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certifiedwhore4slashers · 5 months

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Manipulative

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, past oc x f!reader.

summary: he’s fallen way too deep, and he knows that.

a/n: i am in no way romanticizing nor defending his actions, he sucks as a person, this is for funsies, keep that in mind. remember he’s literally responsible for mass murders of children. also this idea is cliche ik ik. but, if you want more I will do more with original ideas.

reader has somewhat long hair, BUT no other descriptions of the reader. and I don’t usually do that. just for this post:)

warnings: yandere themes, toxicity, manipulative behavior(manipulation) obsession, possessiveness, no fluff, implied/referenced murder, slight blood, narcissistic tendencies, delusion, unhealed trauma, implied stalking, mild violence.

The meadow was where you’d often go. Ever since the games, it was a stress reliever, humming some songs or even just listening to the birds chirp.

After Coriolanus was sent to be a peacekeeper, You were sent home. District 12 was your home. You sat down on the cold rock. You were more of an creative artist than musician. Sometimes you wrote songs, and sometimes you wrote poems or just stories.

But you didn’t feel like doing anything today, just admiring the breeze in front of you. You were fairly zoned out when you hear a twig snap, and turn around.

You sigh of relief.”Sorry. Still have those instincts from the games.” You rushed over, not doing much. Still in disbelief he really was there.

You didn’t expect him to be here. But here he was. “It leaves quite the impression, He chuckled. It was a long embrace, and you say,”You found me. Quite surprised.”

“You figured I would, He teased. “Not this fast, and really it was hope, You tease right back, lips on his, it was passionate and sweet, ideal for a reunion.

“The sun’s hot, come in the shade, You offer. He had some ice, now melted and offered it.”Here. For you.” “Thank you, You reply.

You were very thirsty. The moment the water hit your tongue you were in heaven. “This must be the only cold thing in November, he joked.

You laugh in response.”So, Coriolanus Snow, What are you doing in the Meadow?” You were half joking. You never were fully serious. At least until it came to your feelings for him.

“Spending some time with my girl, He replies. The word My, a possessive tone, You notice. But brush it off.

“It’s unbelievable, You admit.”Truly. But I was surprised they brought me back. I swore It was all me.” “But it wasn’t, he points out. You look at him.”Clearly they didn’t believe me.”

His lips were on yours again, long and passionate. You two hadn’t seen each other since the games ended.

“Well, It was hard to believe for me too, He admits.”Tell me what happened after.” It was difficult to recall everything. The games were a nightmare. Especially the Arena. And Mayfair.

As the two of you share the water, You couldn’t help but wonder as he told stories, exchanging them, if something was wrong.

“Poor Jessup, You say sympathetically.”He didn’t deserve that. It was you, though, wasn’t it? The one who killed Bobbin?”

“I had to, Coriolanus replied.”He tried to kill me.” “I’m not saying what you did was wrong, but I suppose killing is for survival in the Arena, You reply. Snow only nodded.

“I heard the others brag, You say.”So I know. I thought the worst happened. You know, that you were dead.”

Heading back up beside him, You still couldn’t believe he was here. Whatever relationship you had, seemed to grow.

“What have you been up to? He asks, curiously.”It’s been a while.” “It has, you laugh.”And truly, not much. A few performances here and then. At the Hob, Maude Ivory’s an amazing singer like Lucy Gray.”

For a mere moment, You were in complete bliss. And that night was a normal evening for the Covey. Your parents were killed, well, your adoptive parents. They took you in, then Maude Ivory came along, your younger sister.

You became a part of the Covey. Until of course, their murders. But you had her, at least. “You want one? A peacekeeper asks, referring to liquor.”You might need it for your performance.”

“Sure, You grin, taking a swig, not making a reaction to the bitterness of it.”You’re right. I might need it.” Lucy Gray was a beautiful singer, but tonight, let you perform.

“Are you sure? I’m not the songbird, You tease. “I’m sure, and Maude Ivory wanted you to, She sweetly says. Your cousin was always the songbird.

“Besides, I think he’d like to hear you sing, Lucy Gray smirked. You knew who she was referring to. Truly the one who knew of your relationship, but by accident.

You wore a yellow dress, not too short but not too long either, and sunflowers in your hair. You wanted to have a good impression.

You tease her,”I think he’d like to hear you.” But you went up there, guitar in hand. A talent that you and Lucy Gray both had. It was the genes, you swore.

But you amazed the crowd as you sang. You were no Songbird. But you had some talent. And the whole time your eyes were on him.

It made him feel more special, in a way. Like the only person could make you feel this happy was him. Him. You were his, at least in his eyes.

But you did a wonderful performance. You mostly did instruments and stood in the background. You didn’t sing much.

Even though you were aware he was there, you went on, even with butterflies in your stomach. It was later that evening that things went downhill.

You said goodbye, even to Coriolanus, saying,”I shouldn’t be out so late anyway. But I promise, straight tomorrow. I’m sure you have peacekeeper things to do, anyway.”

He smiles.”It’s alright. You must be tired from that performance.” You laugh, then nod, quickly kissing him, then moving along.

You didn’t notice that he followed you. He was quite literally, obsessed. Especially after hearing your sweet voice. Since finding your home in the Seam, it wasn’t hard to follow you, and pretend he was there for something else.

Sometimes, he’d meet you there. Other times, didn’t even know he was there watching. He’d call it protectiveness. But it was really a sense of possessiveness over you.

That’s what it really was.

He heard your voice in your room, you sang to yourself. You sang a love song. That wasn’t hard to understand.

He had a sense of jealousy. It was clear the lyrics wasn’t about him. A past one, maybe. It wasn’t Billy Taupe. He had Lucy Gray. So who could you mentioned?

He was bloodthirsty. Or at least, had a taste for violence. He’d never say it or admit it. It was like he was a rebel. And he hated rebels.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. As you danced and sang a little. Coriolanus defended his behavior, he was being protective of you. That nobody would hurt you.

He had fallen way too deep. And he was aware. You might feel the same about him, just as equally obsessed as he was. But that night, he wasn’t looking for trouble. Not much, anyway.

Someone stood beside him, admiring your singing. “Peacekeeper, huh? The male laughed. Coriolanus turns.”Yeah. Punishment. Not a choice.”

“She’s always been a singer, the male explained.”didn’t have much faith.” He wanted to know how the male knew that.

“How do you know? Coriolanus asked, curiously. “She wrote that song about me, the male bragged and seemed proud.”One of these days she’ll get back together with me.”

You never mentioned your ex lover much. Only that he hurt you, and that he was still infatuated. You were right about that.

“She isn’t interested, Coriolanus says, coldly. His fists clenched, along with his jaw, both from the rage he was feeling.

Maybe it was his narcissistic tendencies that were showing. A feeling of shame. A feeling that, he was superior than the male standing in front of him. He’d do so much better.

And with that, he swung. He could’ve shot him. But it was the easy way. And he didn’t deserve the easy way. His blood thirst took over a little, and like Bobbin, didn’t know how far his strength would go.

He stands back, his knuckles bleeding and blood on his uniform he’d have to explain later. Maybe it was a mistake coming to visit you. Your singing had stopped.

He pants. What had he done? Standing over the body, Coriolanus realized what he truly had done. And what could he do? He didn’t want a career as a peacekeeper; but his future would be damaged even further. He had to do something.

The Lake.

It brought him good memories. Swimming alongside you and the covey. But he’d have to hide the body somewhere.

It took a lot of his strength; but didn’t wear him out to drag him to the lake. It wouldn’t be too hard hiding evidence. His body would eventually disappear and Coriolanus doubted anybody cared about him. You didn’t anymore.

And he just watched. After the blood washed off, He walked away. He left the Seam. He'd come back. But You'd be aware of it.

Morning came, and peacekeepers came knocking at your door. The whole morning was a mess. When you did eventually meet up with Coriolanus, you decided on telling him about it.

“Did you know? She asked.”I’m assuming every peacekeeper knew. The guy I used to go out with was murdered. Found in the lake.”

“We were informed today, but I wasn’t the one who found it, He lies. He did not like lying, but he had to. He held a tight grip on you.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #fem!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #reader insert #tw obsession #tw yandere #yandere coriolanus snow

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

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Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)

''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.

❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.

❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.

Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.

He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.

Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.

You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.

When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.

You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.

Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.

He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.

If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.

Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.

He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.

Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.

He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.

Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere hannibal lecter x reader #headcanons #yandere headcanons #hannibal lecter #x reader #yandere au #yandere #dark!hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc

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ioniiaa · 3 months

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

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ystrike1 · 18 days

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I hate doing this but there's drama in the horror webtoon community and I have to vent.

Do NOT support Hanza_art

If you don't want to be spoiled/involve yourself in a toxic situation do not read further.

My Deepest Secret was infamous for its overly miserable plot twist ending. The main character turned out to be "crazy" and "delusional". Somehow that protagonist was capable of living a normal life and being a serial killer at the same time. This character never got real professional help, and they were left to suffer in their delusions.

The horror community is often wary of authors that portray mentally ill people as unsalvagable or monstrous. Personally, I was horrified.

The backlash was horrible because the plot twist made no sense in general. In addition the story was marketed as a romance and by the end nobody had paired off. I felt my time was wasted, and I was disgusted by the way the "true villain" was discarded for the crime of being mentally ill.

When Hanza returned with a more level-headed protagonist and a more violent psychopathic villain....some readers gave the author another chance.

I don't blame them. Paranoid characters like Rozy are very interesting! Especially as main characters!

Hawa, the secondary female lead, grows out of her "naive victim" stereotype as well. It's very satisfying to watch. It was tied together nicely by the handsome villain, Adam.

Adam is extremely evil and irredeemable. When the story begins he is a serial killer who targets "innocent, sweet" girls like Hawa.

Rozy is overprotective and she doesn't trust men. In fact she's a known man hater. The characters are all adults, so their character traits and desires aren't just quirks. They are all deeply flawed people.

It was a very promising start.

Plus, it wasn't marketed as a romance so I was sure it would be written better! The weakest part of My Deepest Secret was the romance (by the end I mean) so yay!

Or not...

I do not keep up with TGU on a regular basis. The plot slowed down considerably and I noticed a worrying trend. Frankly, I'm not shocked by this immature behavior in the slightest.

Every single male character in TGU is a sexist abuser who harbors violent thoughts about women.

Hanza is very good at writing scary, irredeemable, sexist pigs that belong in jail...but it was a worrying trend all the same.

Adam was a smart, handsome serial killer who liked to hide in plain sight. By about chapter fifty he was alot dumber, and I cannot stress this enough.

Every male character that associates with Rozy or Hana turns out to be a stalker or harasser. The kind that would get charged in real life.

That kind of hatred towards "all men" is worrying in a thriller comic, and it was very annoying.

I wanted Rozy to outsmart Adam.

I don't want to watch her and Hana be abused by multiple men (mostly former friends!).

I came for the girl boss mystery, and I got alot of sexism instead. What a slap in the face.

Past a certain point I was only checking in to see how bad the story had gotten....and...yup....the male police officer helping Rozy is also a weird guy.

............first of all that's boring.

Second of all it's insulting.

Hanza hates toxic romance, and it shows, and that's perfectly ok. It's not for everyone, but Hanza has built their entire career on top of sexy murder men...so their attitude is extremely hypocritical and annoying as heck to watch.

"I hate toxic romance but I'm also going to sell suit merch of Elios and Adam."

Like, what did you expect?

Hanza is an adult creator, and they do know who they're catering to.

At this point they are absolutely insulting the fans that pay their bills, and that's unacceptable.

Authors are public figures now. They have been since the Facebook Era. Random internet trolls should not influence how you speak to your fan base. I understand that working for Webtoon is brutally hard, but Hanza is a popular artist despite their fumbled first story.

It's like watching somebody blow their nose on a golden ticket.

TGU was their second chance. A very generous second chance, that got great reviews in the beginning.

I'm astonished that Hanza somehow managed to concoct another dud plot twist. Their rude attitude has to be the nail in their coffin. They should not get a third generously funded chance.

Don't interact with their posts.

Don't review bomb the webtoon.

Don't give them any more attention.

They've made more than enough money off of fans they clearly don't respect.

Every creator worth their salt knows trolls and super perverts are only 0.05% of any given Fandom.

If Hanza wants to spit on the 99.95% fine.

Just don't give them any more money or support. That's the only punishment fans have the right to inflict.

Why am I so upset?

Well, as you can see Hanza posted spoilers. They spoiler bombed Twitter because they don't want to finish TGU.

That's right. On top of insulting everybody who paid for this comic they also don't want to finish. Despite the fact that the story reached its climax recently. The girlboss alliance is finally forming against Adam but...too bad I don't wanna write it (suckers).

The sibling plot twist is just abysmal as well.

Shame on you Hanza.

You damn well know that this sibling plot twist is completely out of left field and unexpected. (and boring. I am convinced you are trolling your fans.)

The shipper trolls and the edgy Rozy/Adam fans had no idea it was coming before you randomly spoiled it.

For the record I don't ship anything in this lackluster comic, because I know better. Again, My Deepest Secret was marketed as a Romantic Thriller and then there was zero payoff. Sure, this one isn't a romance, but I don't think anyone signed up for every guy on the block being evil. Just the guy upstairs. Since the story isn't even about love I never imagined so much drama would come out. It feels very pointless and petty. Every time I hear about this artist it's a drama issue and I can't help but think they're part of the problem. Their recent behavior on social media hasn't left me with any other options.

Hanza, you are being manipulative and childish on purpose because you don't want to finish what you started.

You pandered to horror and toxic romance fans on purpose just to get money.

You spoiled a story millions of people have been reading regularly just to satisfy your childish need to bully your own fans.

You took their money.

You signed your contract.

Nobody made you do it.

If you really are super conservative and you think romance must be pure LEAVE US ALONE, and go write pure romance.

Nobody is stopping you, but you wanted to milk more money out of people you don't respect.

It's sickening, and I'm happy that TGU will never get a physical release.

You don't deserve a dime of that money.

Shame. On. You.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #webtoon #do not read any works by hanza #my deepest secret #the guy upstairs #anti-rec I guess

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 24 days

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⟢ to swallow a star | c.bg

pairing: wizard!beomgyu x apprentice!f!reader. genres: fluff, romcom, fantasy. wc: 1,7k. warnings: this is so silly and unedited 💀. an: i was trying to make a point with the last paragraph but my brain isn’t working, but i am a howl girlie so just pretend u get it 🤣 found the last photo on pinterest with no credits, so credit to the original artist 🫶🏻

it is late afternoon down by lilac lane. the spring sunlight douses the cottage in gold, lighting up the grassy hills and fields, glittering off a nearby rushing creek. it allows warmth to seep in through the windows.

normally, on a cozy sunday such as this, you would be curled up on the soft upholstery armchair in the sitting room, with tabby purring in your lap and a volume of the Wizard Howl’s Why One should Not Swallow Stars series between your fingers. But today you were not, and it vexes you greatly to think of it. rather, you are standing on the tips of your toes, leaning over the sink, to squint through the kitchen window.

a great deal of time had passed since you saw the Wizard Beomgyu, under whom you were serving an apprenticeship. he had disappeared into the fields behind the cottage earlier that very afternoon, promising to teach you a new charm once he had returned. and this promise had pleased you.

for the first few weeks in his care, you and beomgyu had gotten along remarkably well. he would teach you spells and enchantments, you would prepare meals and you would share chores and tending to the cottage equally. in your free time you would tag along on his jobs in town, or you would read and he would paint.

but in the next few weeks that took you up to the current third month at the cottage, his behavior had changed drastically. the good-natured, occasional prankster of a man had reverted to a sulking, misbehaving teenager who had not taught you a thing in days.

so the thought of his unhappiness being cured and him now having the time to teach you, enlivened the witch in the exasperated nurse you had become. but that excitement had long since met its end. and as the clock struck five o’clock, your blood boiled.

a flash of green sweeps through the open window and you drop onto your heels. tabby lifts her head from where she had sat napping between the potted plants near you on the sink, one eye opening slowly to follow the squawking bird.

“toto,” you say, relieved to see the wizard’s familiar. you follow him into the sitting room, where he glides around once more before taking his perch. “where have you been? where is your master?”

he squawks. “miss (y/n), master requests your presence at poppy hill.”

“poppy hill?” you say in surprise, “i thought he was in the fields. is something the matter?” then your eyes shine, “is it time for my lesson at last?”

toto lets out a nervous squawk. “you should take your leave before last light, miss.”

“will you guide me to him, toto?” you ask politely. the parrot nods his head before hopping from his perch and sailing through the kitchen window once more.

you tighten your boots quickly, pausing only to check on tabby. “are you coming, girl?”

her countenance was such that, if she were a person, you’d imagine she would sigh unenthusiastically. but she nevertheless hopped off and ran after you at your heels.

you follow toto deep into the fields and up onto poppy hill where the Witch Karina grew and nurtured her genus of wild flowers. it pales you to imagine he had spent the entirety of his afternoon here, but you perk up when toto leads you down the windward side of the hill.

you come to a stop as you find the Wizard Beomgyu seated amongst red common poppies, the last light catching his features and making them glow. the gentle breeze brushes through his long, golden brown hair as he soaks it up. when the light disappears behind the mountains at last, toto settles atop his head and his eyes flutter open. he greets toto with a smile, then turns to you and his eyes light up. you gulp.

“(y/n)!” he says, climbing to his feet. as his hands clear the grass and dirt from his trousers, he starts toward you and continues, “i’m glad you could make it. i was just talking to karina and—”

you fix your hands on your hips and a severe expression on your face. he stops, fear in his eyes. you march toward him and he shrieks. “where have you been! you promised you would teach me today, beomgyu! what is the meaning of this!” you say, poking a finger into his chest.

“i was—”

“i have been patient! so patient with you these weeks and you go and leave me at noon until evening! what have you to say for yourself, sir!”

his frown morphs into a smile and you are simply flabbergasted. but before you can berate him further, he takes your hand into his gently. he presses his lips to your knuckles and then rubs his thumb over them gently.

“i have left you? why, i could never do such a thing my dear,” he says and your face burns red.

“wha– wai– i beg your pardon!” you exclaim. but he maintains his hold on your hand and leads you further down the hill until you reach the middle of the slope. “do you think you can treat me like those swooning ladies in town!”

the sky is now dark and the stars are twinkling above, the moonlight shimmering silver against the blades of grass beneath your feet. you try and use the fragrance of the flowers and the earth to distract you from how warm and soft his hand feels, but then he takes your other hand and pulls you toward him.

“there is going to be a meteor shower tonight.” he says excitedly, as if it explains anything. but you are much too distracted by his closeness and his touch and his prettiness to argue. “i have planned it all with Karina. she will—“

you finally manage to yank your hands from his. “i do not care to be in your presence now, sir. you refuse to explain your behavior! i am your apprentice, you are supposed to teach me. if our arrangement— if my company is not to your liking anymore simply say so and I will take my leave.”

you start your walk back up the hill, which, being now by your full senses, proved to be a lot more taxing than the journey down it. it only aggravates you more. but you gather your dress in your hands and push on. he rushes after you.

“i will swallow a star!”

you stop in your tracks. you turn to him. “what?”

“i will swallow a star,” he repeats, folding his arms across his chest with a resolved expression on his face. “so that i may compete with that pretty boy you like so much.”

you blink. “compete? with that pretty boy? who– The Wizard Howl? Pendragon?”

he does not answer, but turns his face up to the night sky with a pout. your jaw drops in absolute bafflement. then you burst out laughing. his cheeks turn pink.

“oh, beomgyu,” you sigh, taking his face into your hands and turning it to you. “howl’s books are about why we should not contract deals with demons for power; his own autobiography. and you are a powerful wizard of your own accord, why should you need to be like him?”

toto squawks. “that is what i told him, Miss.”

“you shut up,” he snaps, swatting his familiar away. when your hands drop from his face, he returns them to their place and he leans into your touch, still pouting. “but you like him so much. you’re always reading those things and talking to tabby and mrs rochester from the bakery about him.”

you grin, a blush glowing in your cheeks. “beomgyu, the wizard howl is a happily married man with a sweet two-year old son. the story of his life is remarkable to me, so I read about him.”

he stills. “really?”

you drop your head and giggle. when you look up again, he is watching you with a look in his eyes that makes your chest flutter.

“and what about you?” you say, fixing your hands on your hips again. “what were you doing all day with Miss Karina?”

he perks up. “oh! i spent the afternoon trying to convince her to let us borrow her field for the evening. she agreed on the condition that i promenade with her in town tomorrow.”

you glare at him and smack his shoulder. “And you said yes? i cannot believe you! courting couples promenade together! i—“

he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. “i am a cunning wizard, darling. i may have pulled one on her,” he shrugs, “besides. how could i dream of courting anyone else when you are right here.”

then his eyes flit to your lips, asking, and when you nod, he takes them between his own in a sweet kiss.

when you break apart your breath is shaky and you think that if he should remove his arm from your waist you would fall straight to the ground. he smirks, as if he reads your mind.

“sh- she’s going to curse you once she figures it out. d-do you not know of howl and the witch of the waste?”

at that moment the meteor shower begins, like glittering diamonds shooting across the heavens. you stare up in awe. tabby meows and rubs her head against your legs, while toto perches on beomgyu’s shoulder.

he gently takes your chin between his fingers and draws your attention back to him.

“do you know of the wizard beomgyu and the apprentice who stole his heart?” he says softly, bringing your face closer and closer and closer. “they say she was was vivacious,” he kisses one corner of your mouth, “unyielding,” then the other, “a powerful witch in the making who was not wise of what she was doing before it was far too late.”

your breathing is heavy and your eyes hooded, “w-what happened to them? the wizard and the apprentice?”

his lips curl into a soft smile. “the apprentice and her wizard’s fates became inseparable, and they were destined to love one another in this and every lifetime.”

he pulls you in once more, this kiss much different from the first. he holds you impossibly close, a hand buried in your hair and the other lifting you up to his lips. it is enrapturing and toe-curling and your insides melt.

you decided then and there that the Wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon was a charlatan. for if this is what it felt like to swallow a star, to give your heart to another and share a life, you would choose it with beomgyu, every single day.

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

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kyemna · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Characters Positive and Negative traits

Headcanons

I apologize for any grammer mistakes!

Tw: none

Charlie

Positive:

-Loves to do things for you.

-Also loves it when you bake together.

-Keeps every single gift you give her in a box with rainbows and glitter on it.

-Unironically says 'yo mama' at the wrong times LMFAO

-Plays with your hair or fingers when she's in deep thought

-Brags to her dad about how you're the most amazing partner ever

-Has the most amazing made up stories and fantasies. Talks your ears off with them

-When you're laying in bed, and she wakes up before you, she'll lay on top of you to wake you up.

I'm not kidding. It can be 6 am, and she'll crawl over to your side of the bed and lay her whole body on yours.

-In general, she's super fun to be around.

Negative:

-Overworks herself.

With that, she forgets to eat.

On a few occasions she actually fainted.

-Becomes distant when something's bothering her.

-She can get too swept up in her ideologies/fantasies, that she doesn't see what's right infront her.

-Lowkey controlling, but doesn't realize it.

(I don't think there are many negative things about Charlie to be honest LOL)

Vaggie:

Positive:

-Considerate.

-If she sees something that reminds her of you, she buys it.

-Knows how to calm you down/put you in your place.

-Admits when she's wrong, and knows when to apologize.

-Smells good. I have a feeling she just smells sweet. Like coconut or something.

-A surprisingly good artist?

-Has a great wardrobe. Let's you raid it every once in a while.

-Strong asf. Often lifts you up, and throws you over her shoulder.

Negative:

-Aggressive.

Normally, she has no way of outing it, so she bottles it up. Because of this, she can come over as aggressive, simply because her cup overflows.

-Drowns in her feelings.

-Takes things too seriously.

-She hit you in a fight once, and she still regrets it.

-Also hold grudges.

-Gives you the silent treatment if you did something to her dislike.

Alastor:

Positive:

-Surprisingly understanding.

-I said this once, and will continue to say it, he has AMAZING taste in music. Many of the characters do.

-A great cook.

His mom taught him many recipes, so he loves to make them for you.

-Protective.

-Open minded/open to new experiences

-Intelligent, always knows when you lie.

-Good at boardgames.

Beat you at Uno SO many times, it's getting a little humiliating..

-Aware of your likes and dislikes, whether that be: Music, clothes, topic of conversation, certain foods, and tries to help you avoid those things in your daily life.

-Gets along with your mother very well.

He's always willing to lend her a hand.

Negative:

-Obsessive.

-Has his eye on you 95% of the time. Not in a good way.

-Decides things for you without you asking him/giving him permission.

-does NOT mind his business.

-Not good with kids.

Because he's born in the 1890's he's super old fashioned. Therefore I think he would strike his kids if they misbehaved.

-Doesn't get along with your male friends, and is 'overly' friendly with your female friends, which makes it seem like he's flirting with them.

-He's a murderer. That speaks for itself.

-Blood thirsty as hell.

-A good liar, which makes him seem untrustworthy.

Angel Dust:

Positive:

-Loves grocery shopping or shopping in general with you.

-Notices small changes in your behavior, whether it's due to stress or simply a bad day, and helps you relax/cheer you up.

-Is great at planning dates!

-Also has amazing music taste.

I personally think a few of his main artists are:

Lady Gaga, Kesha, T-ara, Britney Spears and The Weeknd

-Funny as hell. No pun or joke gets past him.

-Great with animals! If you have a pet, he has a nickname for them.

-Unironically calls you 'Pookie' or 'Snukems'

-Has a good memory. Remembers your favorite color, your favorite flower, etc.

-Chases you around the house/appartment with a bug he caught. (Whether that's negative or positive is totally up to you)

Negative:

-Doesn't really understand/do boundaries, so he'll often take things too far.

-Argumentive. He enjoys a good argument or fight, which makes it difficult to find a solution to the problem your fighting about.

-Holds grudges.

-Overthinks the smallest things.

-Secretive. It takes a lot to get him to talk about his feelings and problems.

-Takes his anger out on you sometimes.

-Passive aggressive.

-Borrows your things without your permission, and doesn't put them back when he's done.

Husk:

Positive:

-Funny. Like, his jokes are actually hilarious. Unlike Alastor who makes the most awful dad jokes ever.

-Is so fully aware when your bullshiting him, he just pretends not to know.

-As i said in previous headcanons, he LOVES to dance with you.

He's super good at it too!

Has his hands all over you.

Hips, waist, neck, back, you name it.

-Will never admit it, but he likes it when you sneak up on him/jump him.

-In general he's pretty accepting of physical touch.

-He purrs, when you scratch his ears or something.

-Leaves you small gifts and letters around the house/appartment.

Negative:

-Messy. Has trouble cleaning/keeping things clean.

-Forgetful. Often forgets your dates.

-Anger Issues.

-Snaps at you when he's overwhelmed or stressed. Doesn't apologize for it because he's not aware of it. You'd have to point it out to get an apology out of him.

-Easily irritated.

When you're too close to him, when he's in a bad mood or when you take jokes a little too far, he ignores you for a few hours.

Thank you for reading!

#x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust #husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie x reader #vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie x reader #headcanon

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schneiderenjoyer · 5 months

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Now that global's getting some more good world lore with the recent two events, I can finally just talk about how much it fascinates me that arcanists, by nature of their genetics, actually are just a different species of their own.

Like, the clear discrimination aside, the fact they definitely stand out among humans truly emphasizes the battle they face to be recognized as equals to humans if you view their race as not a sub-category of human, but as a different species entirely. How like fantasies depict humanoid creatures such as elves and dwarves, but they're never classified as human. That's what arcanists are starting to feel like.

This idea is also supported by the many hints and factoids scattered around the in-game UI. How the Celluloid Activity (the game's energy system) is a form of genetic DNA seen only in arcanists that help them control arcanum. Or how the concept of Gnosis or Deep Thought is their way of focusing their energy and help process the world and the arcanum around them. Blonney's struggle narratively in the event shows just how much arcanists think very differently compared to humans that it's seen as "odd" and "not normal" (also love the neuro divergent subtext of that for arcanists honestly).

But the real kicker of how it makes me confirm that it's not just a human discrimination of a race, but straight up xenophobia for an entire species is the conversations we get from the entire Nightmare in Green Lake, where the majority of the cast is purely arcanists interacting with other arcanists.

From the conversation in car of casually talking about Tooth Fairy eating fairies to the point she got cursed to have her teeth stolen like it's a conversation about the weather, to them just glossing over the erratic behavior of Changeling keeping campers hostage and later just getting rid (or throwing them out of the campsite) once she's bored of them. These are seen as normal behavior to arcanists.

Like, forget the members of the foundation probably seeing worse, I'm surprised Blonney didn't react more to the realization, it's honestly hilarious. But that just shows the clear divide of what makes arcanists different from humans. Which also explains why a lot of the arcanists talk so cryptic and artistic, sometimes not making sense unlike the human characters who talk straightforward and direct.

Because to us, as humans, we understand that language better and viewing arcanists' language is hard to decipher since they're a different species with a different culture and way of thinking.

This opens up larger avenues of viewing the struggles of arcanists in a human dominated world and the dark implication of the Foundation potentially experimenting on arcanists not to find the cell to withstand the Storm, but to transplant the ability to use arcanum onto humans through genetic alteration. Which can be backed up with the masks the Manus gives to humans to withstand the Storm, but in exchange turns them into monstrous beings because they can't handle the forced application of Celluloid Activity on their body.

#reverse 1999 #don't look at me i'm brainrotting again #going feral i'm losing it #fun fact from the CN beta Schneider was categorized under Infected in the UTTU catalog for arcanists #which brings up the discussion of can becoming an arcanists despite not being born as one be possible for humans #THIS IS MY DESPERATE CRY TO HAVE SCHNEIDER BACK BLUEPOCH PLS #HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION OR NOT BRING MY BBYGIRL BACK

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tookhimtomypenthouse · 5 months

Text

Hate Yourself - Chapter Two

series warnings: female!reader x oliver quick, past/implied felix x oliver, dub-con, stalker behavior, voyeurism, degradation, dacryphilia, bloodplay, gaslighting, manipulation, untagged story elements (the warnings aren't exhaustive!), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT bbgirl

summary: you’re hired as a maid after Oliver comes to own Saltburn, and find your employer to be very invested in your work

minors dni!

Lyuba had left this morning. She hugged you tightly before stepping into her cab, much to your surprise. The normally stern woman was unexpectedly tender with you that morning.

“Take care, zayka,” she whispered as she held you. “Don’t let this house devour you,” she added before pulling away and walking to her cab.

You shiver at the thought, her words chilling. You try to ignore the eeriness of her warning as you dust the study. Dusting was gentle work and a welcome reprieve from scrubbing and scouring the other rooms. Plumes of dust kicked up by your duster shimmer in the late afternoon sunbeams, and you catch yourself watching them float around. The study is full of dusty spots – tall bookshelves, busts of important men, and an overstuffed upholstered chair. Your focus is on the chair when you look up to see one of the many hanging frames of art.

Unlike most art decorating Saltburn, the frame doesn’t hold a stuffy oil painting of a king or lord. Instead, a sketch of a handsome young man looks back. His soft eyes and nonchalant pose invite you in. His clothes seem modern, his messy hair unfussy and tousled. The strokes of charcoal are loose and messy, giving the impression the subject wasn’t as buttoned-up as the rest. Who might he be? In the corner was the artist’s signature, a delicate cursive EC. You search around the perimeter of the sketch for a name, but there’s nothing else. Only the kind, mysterious face.

“Keep your secret, then,” you fake pout to the sketch. You’re pulled out of your examination by clicking footsteps from the hallway. You keep at your dusting, but you hear someone come into the study and rifle through the stack of papers on the desk. Turning your head, you see Oliver sit down and shuffle through a few documents, concentrating deeply on his task. Plucking up some unknown courage, you decided to soothe your burning curiosity.

“Pardon me, sir,” you start, faltering a bit as his eyes connect with yours, “but do you know who this is?”

Oliver pauses as his attention moves to the frame. A sad smile ghosts over his mouth. “Ah,” he says gently. “That would be Felix Catton.” He returns to his task at the desk, but he seems distracted.

“D-do you know him?” You ask, curiosity piquing at his visible reaction.

“I did,” he starts, stepping back from the desk and approaching the picture. “We were…mates.” He’s close now, close enough that your shoulders touch. “Met at Oxford.”

You feel your brows furrow. He’s not giving enough detail for your tastes. “How did he get a picture on the wall if he’s just a mate? There must be more to it than that.” You try and meet his eye, but he is fixated on the image.

“His family owned this place. He invited me to stay for a summer back when we were in university and died at the birthday party they threw for me here. In the maze.” He angles his head back to you, an unreadable expression on his features.

“Oh,” you mumble, “I’m so sorry.” An uncomfortable silence envelops you for a moment. You remember Lyuba’s clipped warning in the bathroom, and you aren’t sure how to react.

“The rest of his family followed,” he finally offers, “so his mother left me Saltburn when she passed.” The revelation surprises you, but it makes sense. You had never seen his surname in the numerous journals, paintings, or statues that graced the halls. It seems odd that an Oxford pal came to own this massive estate. Then again, you’re just a maid. Rich people do crazy things like give away houses to friends, right? Maybe people like Lyuba and you could never understand. The few precious things you own you guard fiercely, but finery probably doesn’t seem as precious when you’re constantly surrounded by it. You can understand the grief on his face, though. His prolonged, desperate look at the drawing makes your chest twinge with sadness.

“Wow,” you whisper. “You must miss him terribly.” The weight of his gaze rests squarely on you. His presence feels suffocatingly close, especially because everyone else has so far made themselves scarce. You haven’t had someone so near to you since Lyuba left. You fight the urge to lean in even closer.

“Sometimes,” he admits. He lingers next to you for a moment longer before stepping back to the desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. You shake your head quickly and return to dusting, hearing his footsteps move out the door and down the hallway. You give the picture of Felix one last glance before busying yourself with the rest of the room.

Hands on your hips, you survey the pristine room. You feel a sense of satisfaction, having made it through your to-do list earlier than anticipated. Making your way back to your room, you decide to reward yourself with a soak in the bathtub. A hot bath. The thought alone is enough to bring a dreamy smile to your lips. The days of work haven’t been too exhausting, but your muscles are sore from adjusting to the workload.

Reaching your room, you rifle through your drawers. Grabbing out your pajamas and socks, you move on to the underwear drawer.

That’s…strange.

You rifle through the contents frantically. Where did they all go? You know you brought more than this. Only a few pairs are left. You shake your head, trying to be rational. They’re just in another drawer, you tell yourself. Hands shaking slightly, you paw through all the drawers in your dresser. By the final one, your breathing comes in raggedly, and your vision blurs with tears.

“What the fuck?” You feel sick to your stomach. Who had been in your room? Suddenly, you feel very vulnerable, too exposed. You rush to the door and try to lock it. The handle jiggles uselessly. A sob breaks from your throat as you sink to the ground. Everything feels like too much.

You miss home, your shoebox room with the ugly brown shag carpet and the tiny window to nowhere. You miss your mother, the twins, your friends. It’s so lonely here. Everyone keeps their distance, and now the one sanctuary you have to yourself feels tainted. Unsafe. If you could go back home, you would.

But you couldn’t. Well, wouldn’t. The private school the twins attend has steep fees, and Mum’s cashier job isn’t cutting it. You think she has enough to worry about as tears flow down your face freely.

“Pull it together,” you choke out to yourself. It was probably a cruel prank, hazing the new girl. You won’t let them send you back home with your tail between your legs. You’d give your siblings a shot at a life beyond the dreary little town you grew up in. They wouldn’t have to clean other people’s houses if you had any say. Peeling yourself off the ground, you resolved to take your bath. Fuck it, you weren’t going to give up so easily. You could take the silent treatment and other nonsense if it meant a future for them.

Clutching your things, you walk to the bathtub and run the water. You can’t help but feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but ignore the feeling. I’m just overthinking, it’s fine. You slip out of your work dress and slide into the steamy bath. You bring your head underneath the water, heat soothing your puffy and tearstained face. You weren’t going to let this place break you.

It’s too bad the person peering through the bathroom keyhole would disagree.

You sleep terribly.

The broken lock and missing panties have rattled you despite your best efforts. You spend your nights watching the door, muscles twitching in anticipation of a confrontation that never comes. Each morning, an increasingly wan face stares back at you in the mirror.

You decide to do something about it. Your distant coworkers have offered you nothing but wary glances and clipped responses the whole time you’ve been here, so you feel certain it had to be one of them. A good boss would want his employees to feel comfortable here, so you make it your mission to bring it up with Oliver once you finish your tasks for the day.

You wander the house looking for him, nervously popping your head into every room. You don’t think he has business outside the house today, so you get increasingly worked up with each empty room. When you end up back in the foyer with no sign of him, you stomp out into the garden. It’s dark and chilly out, but you can’t even care. You just want somewhere private to scream. The maze beckons you. You’ve never had a chance to go inside, so you trudge right inside it.

The twists and turns are dark and disorienting. You feel your anger ebb away into fear as you make your way deeper. The cold nips at you, but you press on. How much time has even passed here? You’re tempted to turn around and try and find the exit when you see a clearing. You press onward, unsure of what lies ahead. You notice a huge statue, its form monstrous but somewhat amorphous to you in the darkness of the night. It looms menacingly over the space, filling you with dread.

You hear rustling and nearly jump out of your skin when you realize you aren’t alone.

“W-who is it?” You call out, voice trembling. You cast your eyes around and see a man’s form in the corner.

“It’s just me,” comes the response, and you almost sigh with relief at the sound of Oliver’s voice. You sheepishly walk to him, relaxing at the edge of the clearing. “Are you alright, love?” He peers up at you with concern.

You try to clear your throat and give a nonchalant response, but your voice comes out brittle and pinched. “Of course,” you rasp out, faltering. You don’t even realize the tears are coming out until Oliver hops to his feet and gently swipes his thumb over your cheek. The unexpectedly tender gesture has all of your exhaustion and worries pouring out.

“Hey,” he breathes, gently cupping your face.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, crying into his hands. “I haven’t been well. Someone broke my lock, a-and stole my clothes, and-“

“Woah, woah, woah, it’s okay,” he soothes, stepping in close and wiping your face. “Someone stole from you?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply.

“I’ll get the door fixed, yeah? And replace what got taken.”

“Really?” you ask, a spark of hope returning to you.

“Of course, I hate to see such a pretty girl upset,” he answers, stroking your hair. He gives you a gentle smile, and you can’t help but give him a teary smile in response. “Now, run along inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, sniffing and drying off the last of your tears. You turn back to the entrance and walk slowly, mulling over his words. Maybe somebody does care about you here.

“Get some rest, please,” he calls after you. “I can’t have my best girl so sad.”

You stifle a giggle as you trace your way back out of the maze, slightly delirious from the attention and unexpected tears. Maybe you really will get some sleep tonight.

#saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #barry keoghan #fanfiction #fanfic #hate yourself

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skyward-floored · 3 months

Text

Here’s my (very late) birthday fic for @kikker-oma, it’s based off her art for day 17 of whumptober!

(Which at least one other person has already written a fic for but I didn’t realize until after I’d already started writing it so any similarities are pure coincidence 😅)

https://www.tumblr.com/kikker-oma/731400216730828800?source=share

I hope you like it Oma, happy (very belated) birthday!!!

————————————————————

Something was wrong with Legend.

Time could see it in the way the teenager walked, his steps heavy and dragging. How he lingered at the back of the group and barely spoke, mostly just nodding along to whatever it was Wind was telling him, and didn’t go out of his way to speak to anyone, his words sharp and vicious when he did.

Normally Time wouldn’t think twice about Legend being a little extra antisocial and standoffish. He was often grumpy (though Time had seen his soft interior once or twice in the brief time they’d been traveling together), and it wasn’t surprising his mood would get a little more severe now and then.

No, the worrying thing was that it had been several days since the behavior began, and it hadn’t gone away yet.

If anything, it had gotten worse.

Legend seemed to get more lethargic and snappish as they traveled across the wilderness of Wild’s Hyrule, keeping to himself even more intensely, and largely ignoring the rest of them. He’d gotten paler too, in just the few days of whatever this was, and Time was only growing more concerned.

It was worrying. Incredibly so.

Time had been keeping a closer eye on Legend ever since he’d realized something was up, and most of the others seemed to catch on that something was wrong as well, but nobody had confronted Legend about it yet. Or if they had, hadn’t succeeded at all in fixing the problem. Twilight had tried to tactfully approach the subject just that morning, and Legend had nearly bitten his head off in response.

Time wasn’t sure what to do, and he wasn’t the only one.

After all, none of them liked to admit something was wrong with themselves— Time himself was certainly guilty of that— but Legend, prickly as he was, was one of the worst. Confronting him head-on about whatever the issue was would only make him more likely to deny anything was wrong at all, as Twilight had already demonstrated earlier.

But someone needed to get through to him, before something snapped.

And later that day, Time finally got a chance.

They’d reached a good spot to stop for the night, Time watching Legend like a hawk the entire trip there. The veteran had nearly tripped on nothing a few times, but had covered it up so quickly nobody could call him out on it.

They had eaten dinner fairly quietly for once, Wild roasting some mushrooms and meat of some kind. Legend kept to himself during the meal, barely picking at his food, and staying out of the conversation. Everyone pretended not to watch, but it was almost laughable how obvious it was that they were all keeping an eye on him, the worry hanging like a cloud over the group.

And Legend seemed to have noticed the increased scrutiny, as later when the heroes were all settling down for the night— cleaning up dinner, getting out bed rolls— Legend stood and told them all he was going to patrol around.

“Really? Are you sure?” Hyrule piped up, and Four frowned from next to him when Legend nodded.

“...By yourself?” the smithy asked.

A very slight edge of concern lay in his voice, and Legend’s shoulders immediately hiked up to his ears.

“What, you think I can’t handle myself?” he shot back in a sharper tone than normal, and Four quickly raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Of course not Vet, I know you can,” he reassured, and Warriors stepped in.

“Exactly. It’s just dark, and we’re in unfamiliar territory, that’s all,” Warriors put in, and Legend turned to glare at him.

“Yet that’s never an issue when Twilight goes off by himself,” Legend snapped. “Shove off Captain. I’m the veteran, remember? I’ll be fine.”

Then before anyone could stop him, he disappeared into the trees.

All of them watched in an uncomfortable silence as Legend stomped away, and Time stopped Twilight when he went to follow him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Best we wait until he’s calmer,” he said, and Twilight exhaled, then sat down. “...And probably best someone who hasn’t made him mad yet go.”

“I think that’s just you at this point,” Sky pointed out, and Time paused, then sighed as he realized Sky was right. Every single one of the rest of the group had been the target of Legend’s ire in the past few days. Time somehow was the only one who had escaped unscathed... which made him the perfect candidate to follow Legend now.

“All right,” he agreed somewhat reluctantly, and settled down to wait.

“Hylia be with you,” Wild muttered as he cleaned his cooking pot. “You’re gonna need her.”

(...)

Half an hour later, as the others either went to bed or tried to busy themselves, Time got up and headed in the direction that Legend had stormed off in.

The moon was large and bright in the sky, and Time almost didn’t need the lantern he’d brought to find Legend’s trail. Though despite the moonlight lighting his path and the assistance of the lantern, it took Time much longer to find the hunched-over figure of Legend then he’d thought it would.

Legend had gone a fair distance from camp, and plunked himself down on a large fallen tree, his head bowed as he stared at the ground. He didn’t react when Time stepped a bit closer, and Time frowned as he watched him for a moment.

Were his shoulders shaking?

Time purposely crunched a few leaves to signal his presence, and Legend’s ear twitched in response. He didn’t do anything else though, and didn’t look at Time when he carefully sat down beside him on the log and set down the lantern.

An owl hooted nearby, and Time listened to it a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

“They can be an overbearing bunch, can’t they?” he remarked in the silence, the owl going quiet.

Legend flicked an ear, and didn’t respond.

“...They mean well, though,” Time continued when the silence stretched between them. ”They’re not trying to be overwhelming, or even nuisances. They’re... just concerned about you, Vet.”

Legend let out a little huff of air that almost sounded amused.

“Right,” he said flatly. “Well they shouldn’t bother, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

His hand tightened where it was held around his waist, and Time couldn’t help but notice when it did. Legend’s face seemed paler in the moonlight shining down on it as well, but when he saw Time staring at him, he scowled.

“Go back to camp old man, I’m fine,” he muttered.

Time took a deep breath. Nayru grant me wisdom, here’s where it gets tricky.

“The way you’ve been acting the past few days seems to speak towards a different answer,” he said in a level voice.

“Well whatever it is you think you’ve noticed is all in your imagination,” Legend shot back, clutching his middle even tighter.

Time looked at it again, and paused in what he was about to say as a thought suddenly dawned on him. He couldn’t remember for sure, not everything at least, but if he was right... would Legend really do something so detrimental to his health like that?

“Legend... when was the last time you ate anything?”

Legend’s mouth turned into a thin, hard line.

Ah-ha.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re pushing yourself not to for some reason,” Time said, firmness creeping into his tone as he watched the boy. “We have plenty of supplies Legend, why aren’t you eating?”

“I never said I wasn’t,” Legend snapped back, glaring at him. “And even if I am, maybe I’m just not hungry.”

“Not hungry at all?” Time asked with a raised eyebrow, thinking back to the past several days. “Legend, I don’t seem to recall you actually eating anything recently, you can’t just starve yourself.”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe it would be better for everyone if I did!”

Time blinked in surprise, and Legend’s anger seemed to falter a moment, something horribly vulnerable cracking through the prickly mask he’d thrown on. But he quickly tossed it back over himself, despite the tears trying to gather in his eyes, and his expression reverted back to the anger he’d possessed a few moments ago.

“Link,” Time said quietly, and Legend looked away. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Okay? Would you shove off?”

“Legend,” Time said imploringly, and Legend’s ears pinned back against his head.

“Look I’ve handled it alone before, I can handle it now,” Legend suddenly bit out, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just— nothing!”

“Nothing wouldn’t make you raise your voice like this,” Time pointed out.

“Well it is!” Legend said in a slightly quieter tone, though it still shook in anger.

Something in Time’s chest ached at the rawness in his voice and the tears that had returned to his eyes. Legend’s lip was trembling, but he was firmly biting down on it to stop it from doing so, and he looked like he was close to losing what control he had left.

Time studied him more intently, trailing carefully over skin flushed with anger, over shaking fists and shoulders, at the hand still held close to his middle.

The shakiness, refusing to eat, the paleness of his face...

Time’s eye widened as a new thought crossed his mind, and he exhaled, reaching a careful hand towards Legend.

“Link, you’re sick, aren’t you?” Time asked in a soft voice, and Legend’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “That’s at least part of this, isn’t it?”

Legend slapped away his extended hand.

“Go away,” he bit out, something truly dangerous in his voice, but Time was nearing the eye of the storm and he wasn’t prepared to back out now. “Go back to camp, wander in the woods or whatever, I don’t care. Just leave.”

“Legend,” Time said, shifting closer. “You can’t keep ignoring this. You nearly fell over earlier, how long have you been feeling ill?”

“There’s nothing to ignore,” Legend snarled. “Just— just leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that,” Time said, his voice soft, but firm. “You need help, and I won’t—”

“I don’t!” Legend shouted, his voice hoarse. He tried to get to his feet, but Time quickly caught him by the wrists, stopping him from leaving. “Just— let go!”

Time shook his head, and Legend tried to jerk out of his hold with no success.

The teenager’s wrists were warm in his grasp, and Time could feel them shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from anger or the illness Legend was fighting. Either way, he wasn’t making any headway in escaping, even though Time was sure Legend would have normally been halfway across the forest by now.

Legend tried to swing a fist at Time, but he didn’t succeed in the slightest, the older hero still holding him tight.

“What’s wrong, Link?” he asked, and Legend only struggled harder in his grip.

“Let go!”

Time shook his head, and Legend let out a cry of frustration.

His eyes were glassy with tears as he glared, and his breath came in short pants as he tried desperately to free himself. Legend’s facade of being perfectly fine had dropped in his anger and panic, and Time was now wondering how on earth any of them had missed just how bad things had gotten.

“Leave me ALONE old man!” Legend shouted.

But Time kept holding him, equally gentle and firm as he tried to lurch away. He met Legend’s eyes, stormy and swirling with emotion, and gave his hands a soft squeeze.

“Legend, son, please let me help you,” he said softly.

Legend’s face twisted with rage.

“Don’t call me that!” he nearly screamed, and tried one last time to pull Time’s arms out of his grip.

But he was too weak to free himself, the sickness affecting his strength. Legend couldn’t do anything but struggle, his breath coming in quick gasps, wrists trembling in Time’s hold as he tried to free himself with one last burst of desperation.

Then he crumpled forward, a sob wracking his body.

Time’s eye widened, and he caught Legend, immediately running a hand through his bangs. His forehead was hot where Time’s fingers brushed it, and Legend was shaking so hard he felt like he would fall apart, Time soothing him as he sobbed again.

“Legend, easy,” Time whispered, panic trying to burrow into his chest. He’d never seen Legend like this, screaming and crying and showing his emotions in such a blatantly un-Legend way. And he didn’t exactly have experience with soothing sobbing, feverish teenagers, but Legend was acting so strange...

There’s something else at play here then just a virus, Time thought worriedly, Legend letting out an unsightly hiccup.

All of Legend’s strength seemed to have been used up by their argument, and he lay nearly limp against Time’s arm, shivering, with tears still escaping the corners of his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Link?” Time asked again, careful and soft.

This time Legend didn’t try to pull away or scream at him. He merely let out a quiet breath, one that shuddered on the exhale.

“I... I don’t...” Legend croaked, his eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t... again.”

“You can’t what?” Time asked, and Legend swallowed, tears trickling down his cheeks. Time shifted his grip a little so that Legend’s head rested more comfortably on his shoulder, and waited for him to continue.

“...Care,” Legend whispered finally. His hand tightened where it was fisted in Time’s shirt. “Every time I-I care, someone gets... hurt. I get hurt, I... I can’t again, not...”

He let out a shuddering breath, and his eyes squeezed more tightly shut.

“I don’t want you all to care,” he whispered.

Time looked down at the boy in his arms, shivering and feverish and trying so desperately to fight through it himself, and exhaled.

Oh.

Legend curled into himself at the admission, tears still falling down his cheeks, and Time suddenly saw himself, trying to keep a safe distance from everyone who tried to care for him, afraid of anyone slipping past his barriers and finding the scared little boy hiding behind so desperate for love.

Time swallowed.

We’re all horribly similar, are we not?

“...Being known is a terrifying thing,” Time said after several moments of silence drifted past, voice barely a whisper.

Legend shuddered again.

“I used to think it impossible,” Time whispered. “To be known, but not hurt. Drifting along and staying unattached seemed best, safer. Even when I was in desperate need of help, taking care of myself... seemed like it would hurt less. Without Malon, I have no doubts I would still be that way.”

Time sighed, and looked down at Legend, not even sure if the words were getting through his fever.

“Legend... you don’t have to tell us everything. But we are a team. Brothers, in spirit if not by blood. By merit of those things alone... we care for you,” he said simply. “I have no doubt that if any one of us were in the condition you’re currently in, you would be caring for them as fiercely as anything.“

Time shifted, and met Legend’s eyes, puffy and red, and bright with fever and exhaustion.

“Let us do the same for you.”

Legend closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Time’s shoulder, face scrunched slightly with pain. Several long moments went by, and then Legend let out an exhausted exhale, and gave Time the smallest nod he’d ever seen.

“...Sure. Fine,” he muttered, almost so quietly Time didn’t hear him. “...But only because my head is pounding so hard I can’t... think of anything better at the moment.”

“Trying is half the battle,” Time said with a faint smile, and Legend sighed again, heavy and exhausted.

Time pulled Legend up into his arms, and noted with a bit of worry that Legend was rather frail in his hold, still shivering. And normally the veteran would protest up and down about being carried, but Legend was completely silent, only a few leftover sniffles coming from him as Time hooked the lantern he’d brought to his belt so his hands would be free.

It truly was a miracle Legend had lasted this long without collapsing in front of them all— but Time knew the power of stubbornness when it came to this sort of thing. Malon was still mad at him for that time he’d tried to milk the cows when he’d had that broken wrist.

It was still impressive, though.

I wonder how long he’s had a fever, he wondered as Legend shifted in his arms. One this intense wouldn’t just appear... it must have been at least a day or two.

“...Don’t tell the others,” Legend suddenly whispered as Time began to walk back to camp, and Time looked down at him. “About... you know.”

Time nodded. “The only thing they get to know about is you being sick,” he promised, and Legend relaxed a bit further in his arms.

When they got back to camp, everyone stared, but nobody commented on Legend’s tear-streaked face, or the fact that he was shivering and being carried. Twilight made eye contact with Time, looking at Legend in concern, and Time mouthed the word ‘fever’.

Twilight’s face softened with understanding, and he quickly put out Legend’s bedroll so Time could get Legend into it.

Legend didn’t resist, and the others didn’t directly address the fact that he had obviously been hiding the fact that he was sick from them all. They merely went about their business, occasionally drifting by where Legend was lying in his bedroll, offering a few words, or some food, or just quiet company that offered to place a wet cloth on his forehead.

And when Legend finally fell asleep, he looked more relaxed then Time had seen him in weeks.

#happy birthday again Oma <3 #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu time #linked universe fanfic #fic #hurt/comfort #writing from the floor #this took way too long and there’s parts I’m still not totally happy with but I’ve been holding onto this too long #I write so many fics with Legend being carried I just realized??#XD

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rthko · 2 months

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Hi :) I read The Tragedy of Heterosexuality and loved it — do you have any other books you’d recommend about gender/sexuality? Thanks <3 I love reading your long posts, you have really insightful ideas and I think we view the world very similarly

Glad to hear that! Here's some context for anyone not in the loop: The Tragedy of Heterosexuality is a book about Heteropessimism, or rather, finding a way out of it. The notion is that heterosexual love is doomed because men and women are just different by nature, and it manifests through relationship self-help books, incels and pickup artists, and the memes and ramblings of countless straight women who they wish they could just be lesbians. Jane Ward think heterosexuality as we know it self sabotages through what she calls the misogyny paradox: straight men love women, except they don't love women. But she doesn't think heterosexuality is doomed or prop up political lesbianism as a solution. She calls for mutual respect and actually leaning into the heterosexuality of, well, actually liking each other, rather than try to "queer" it. This is part of a really interesting turn in queer theory where heterosexuality has emerged as a subject of study--another good example is Hanne Blank's Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality.

So I want to start out by disclaiming I'm not actually that well read. This is something I've been trying to work on more recently. That said, here are some gender and sexuality recs:

Two essays by Gayle Rubin: The Traffic in Women and Thinking Sex. I don't completely cosign everything she says, but these are monumental texts. Thinking Sex is topical especially as the "sex wars" keep playing out.

Gender Trouble by Judith Butler. Everyone's heard of this, so my specific recommendation is to skip to part three and the conclusion, where the text is at its most concise. Butler's theory of gender performativity has exploded beyond their initial reach, so they've since had a lot of interviews and given talks that address a wider audience. People who have read both Gender Trouble and Bodies that Matter tend to recommend the latter text, but I still need to.

The Trouble with Normal by Michael Warner, or if you want a shorter version, his essay "Normaler and Normaler." Even if you're not against marriage in its entirety, his criticisms are so incisive and helpful, especially now in countries where gay marriage was passed but proved to be a dead end. It also really gets into gayness as identity versus behavior, which seems to have exploded into a huge conflict recently. This is how you get people who are on board with queerness in the abstract but appalled by its real-life specifics. I also still need to read Fear of a Queer Planet.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde, is a collection of speeches and essays by one of the most influential Black feminist writers. "Uses of the Erotic" especially stuck with me, where the erotic is taken not so literally but as a sort of creative synergy with political implications. If you've ever heard "the master's tools will not dismantle the masters house," that's included in this collection.

Close to the Knives by David Wojnarowicz, also a collection of speeches and essays, is one of my favorite books on AIDS. The rage is palpable and crucial, and the essay "Do Not Doubt the Dangerousness of the 12-inch Politician" is eerily resonant today as politicians still stoke violence on TV (and now social media).

Lately I've been getting more into trans writing, with Transgender History by Susan Stryker and Whipping Girl by Julia Serano. The former alarmed me with how much I didn't know, and the latter blew my mind. It was written at a time when trans people, for better and for worse, weren't really in the public eye except for in niche circles, and academia about trans people was about or at the expense of them but not by and for them. Her mark is so tangible today. My next read will be Reverse Cowgirl by McKenzie Wark after hearing rave reviews. I think I'm going to like it.

I am also accepting recs!

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