#when ''but i am being so brave about it'' goes wrong

[kaledya]

Bonjour. Guess who returned!!

I saw your post on how you can't really draw at the moment because of your back, I hope you'll be back at your thing soon ❤️

But to the questions, mainly about side characters:

1) I am curious about Mammon's daughter's character in further detail. Did you come up with a name yet? You said we could compare her to Charlotte from Princess and the frog in her sassiness and general demeanour, but is she really a bad person like her father or is she actually a good girl? How would she react if she found out (unless she knows) how Mammon treats his employees, mainly Fizzarolli (unless his character history changed in Sinners Symphony), for example Mammon threatening Fizz after announcing he's quitting his job? And lastly, what is her relationship with her "cousins" and "uncles/aunties"?

2) I was thinking about Bee's son, mainly about who's the father? I mean, since Beelzebub is currently dating Tex (unless she isn't dating him in Sinners Symphony), is he his father or not? If he isn't (which, Let's be real, I guess he isn't) what does he view him like, unless he doesn't know about him. What is his relationship with his mother like? Depending on the answer to the previous question, who was his real father and where is he now? What did Bee's son think about this? And lastly, do you have a name for him and again, what is his relationship with his "cousins" and "aunt's/uncles"?

3) What else could Belvedere (my precious favourite side OC of yours) do? We know he's a butler, and a good one for sure, and a teacher/nun for the royal offsprings, but where else his capabilities may lay? I doubt this is all he can do, perhaps he is more like Alfred than we thought?

Is the picture above accurate to reality? (Please be true please be true XD)

I just really want to see more of Hell's Alfred Belvedere in the future

4) Recently we have been revealed that there isn't such a fool that would fight Constantine. But let's say there would be a sinner that would be brave enough (or perhaps have nothing to lose?) to stand up against him for their honest opinion, for example speaking out what they think about his cold logic at the expense of his feelings and lack of empathy, and how they disagree with it (let's say based upon their experience in human life), perhaps even mock it. How would he react?

I just hope you'll get alright, and I will continue to watch your career with great interest.

Have a nice day/night, and may we meet again

Richard

Her name is Monet her nickname is Mone (I hate you Mammon) this name meaning wealty protector.

She's truly her father's girl, but

I can't call him completely bad. So let's look at it this way, she is the daughter of a sin and one of the most noble beings in hell. Why would someone like this treat imps well or respect them? Imps are beings located almost in the lowest layer of hell and have short lives. Monet grew up being taught that she was far superior to them In other words, she does not build the sets for evil, she does not think that what she does is wrong.

And in the scene where Fizz swears at mammon and quits, Monet took her father's side

"How dare that imp insult a Sin, even though my Dad spent his precious time for him!?

Monet even goes on stage and tells Fizz this

"I don't know what you think about your relationship with my uncle, but all you have your worthless body, you'll grow old and die, and all that's left will be my poor, heartbroken uncle."

""If you ask me, if you really loved him, you wouldn't put him through this pain."

Monet is really sassy and outspoken, but technically she's telling the truth here. Sins are immortal beings and 50 or 100 years is a very short time for them.And yes, according to Monet, Fizz is a pet. After all, you love your pet very much, but you know that it will die before you.And here Monet really doesn't want her uncle to be sad or heartbroken.Even though Mammon has a bad relationship with Oz, Monet loves her uncle.

After what Monet said, when Oz talks to Monet, Monet thinks, "Did I say something wrong?"So she doesn't realize that what she says is bad.

____

2-His nickname is Wasp

Wasp's father was a hellhound and died of old age a long time ago.Wasp really loved his father and had a good relationship with him.

Wasp considers his mother's relationship with Vortex normal. Bee had not had a relationship for 150 years, and when she became lovers with Vortex, Wasp was happy for his mother.

He's not on bad terms with Vortex, they're not too close.

Bee and Wasp have a really good relationship. Wasp is already very similar to his mother and likes the same things, so they have a very close bond.

He and Charlie are close, kind of like the Wasp, the fun cousin who loves to party.And they both have the same level of high energy,That's why they get along so well.

Wasp and Monet, they love to spend good time together and have fun. So they're really on good terms.

Constantine does not like Wasp's attitude and finds him irresponsible and childish. Wasp likes to get on Constantine's nerves.

Wasp finds the Satan's daughter very serious and boring, and the Satan's daughter finds him annoying. But still, their relationship is not bad, they get together from time to time and spend time.

3- Belveder is Alfred in every sense

He is a great and very strong warrior and also a very knowledgeable person.Someone who has been loyal and served Lucifer for centuries, even when lucifer was at his worst.

Belvedere is someone who gets his strength directly from Lucifer, so he can fight against most nobles without any difficulty if he wants, and he never loses his gentlemanly air while doing so.

He doesn't have a family himself, but he cares for Constantine and Charlie as if they were his own children.

Even though he is a hell born who is not born as a noble race, he is someone who no one will show the slightest disrespect to, thanks to his current position.

4.It is very rare for Constantin to talk to a sinner. He rarely talks even to overlords. The mere thought that a sinner could talk to him is an insult to him; if that sinner shows even the slightest disrespect, he will die right there.

Constantine is the prince of Hell, but he is disgusted with sinners. How dare a sinner come and criticize him?Just for this reason, that sinner crosses his limits.And he gets punished for it.

But if that sinner speaks logically and Constantine thinks they are right, he will not kill him, he will listen the sinner, and if he thinks the sinner is smart enough to deserve an answer, he will answer. So if you're smart and talk logically, chances of survival are higher.

The reason for Constantine's patience and tolerance towards the sinners in the hotel is Charlie, Charlie's presence protects them, especially Alastor. Constantine may be a loving brother to Charlie, but he is very cruel to others.

Have a good day too!

#hazbin hotel au

[lith-myathar]

Watch "Why you are always proving you are strong but are not allowed to be powerful" on YouTube

#well #wig #anyway the way i process emotion is excruciating 🫠 #Youtube #when ''but i am being so brave about it'' goes wrong #and the IDEA of asserting power or boundaries or needs is terrifying #which makes VERY DIFFICULT TO DO ANYTHING #because the anxiety around the beat down you expect in reaction creates #absolutely immobilizing anxiety

[strangestcase]

tomblr discourse in the monster high universe must be something else.

0 notes

💝​ lalalala Follow

What would I do without cherry smoothies... probably die again 💔​

🟥​ b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

Of freaking course the frilly daywalker is a vegan 😒​ bet you do witchcraft too you dirty hippie

💝​ lalalala Follow

🝢🜊🝣🝗🜚🝰

🟥​ b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

WTF is that lol

🟥​ b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

i t burns. wh at did you do to me .

💝​ lalalala Follow

^-^

17k notes

🧠​ msdeadfast Follow

Ok but Dead Fast: Night of the Living (2002) has no business being considered the worst Dead Fast movie when the MCU (Murder Cinematic Universe) not only retconned his origin story to make him a virus zombie rather than a curse zombie (which throws off his entire arc about being something more than his deeds!) AND made him be allied with B.L.I.G.H.T. of all organizations because Like say what you will about NOTL and the forced heterosexual romantic plot but at least 1) it gets what makes Dead Fast a hero and 2) GIVES HIS LOVE INTEREST A PERSONALITY AND SOMETHING TO DO

🕷️ 8legscomix Follow

Literally

Also they made the villain Dr. Igorable's motivations so laughable like..... so his wife got turned into a zombie and he wants to cure her? Ok? Did she ask for it? She doesn't even have any groaning lines. Im not even a zombie but that was offensive as hell. Like in the original comics he wants to straight up undo all forms of zombism forever

🧠​ msdeadfast Follow

NO FR LIKE....... so suddenly the eugenics obsessed human is tragic because being a zombie must be such a tragedy you guyyyysssss -_- and wanting to get rid of an entire monster type is ok. I swear that movie has turned monster attitudes towards zombies back into the 80s

⚠️ mentalhealth-hazard Follow

I am not sure if I'm overstepping here but, furthermore, the addition of Pendulum to the movie was unnecesary. Stereotyping shapeshifters as untrustworthy and traitorous is something of a past era. Either leave the character behind, or change it entirely.

🧠​ msdeadfast Follow

Jackson I love you and I love your takes. but you type like a Victorian in his deathbed ;-;

⚠️ mentalhealth-hazard Follow

The MCU is so dreadful, it's irrevocably turned me into one.

#It has also substracted years off my lives.

23 notes

🌊​ lacriatura Follow

🦈​🦐​🐠🪸​​🐡​🐟​

^ aquarium!

#lagoona's originals #ocean #sealife #ah-! so refreshing <- aesth tag

26k notes

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Not to vague anyone but some of you have to shut the freak up about the ocean. You don't see me making little dioramas of the Malebolge because I'm not a little cringelet like you lmao

1 note

🌊​ lacriatura Follow

If you don't freaking love the ocean don't follow the ocean tag. Yes that goes for @666firepit666, square up and fight me if you're so brave Heath!!!!

#lagoona's originals #personal #more skulls for my skull collection!!!

10 notes

🌙​ wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

Day 1 no toxic doomed yuri

🌙​ wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

WRONG SIDEBLOG

#stop reblogging this

80k notes

🔩​ stitchez Follow

Got a new arm! Can't wait to try it out!

🐯 ninelives Follow

try it out how 🤨​

🔩​ stitchez Follow

Building a wretched creature out of corpses, of course!

🔩​ stitchez Follow

OH that was a double entendre! You should be ashamed of yourself!

🔩​ stitchez Follow

I would never use my arms for violent purposes!

54 notes

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Lagoona dragged me into the pool and now my hair is out 😡​

🌙​ wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

Skull issue.

🧠​ msdeadfast Follow

skull issue

👻​ ghostlygossip01 Follow

Skull issue. Take the L

💝​ lalalala Follow

Skull issue ^-^

🐯 ninelives Follow

skull issue lmao

🔩​ stitchez Follow

Skull issue! I dont know what that means but I'm sure it relates to your experience!

🎸​ innerdemon Follow

SKULL ISSUEEEEEEEEE !!!!!!!

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Your own cousin 🥲​

🎸​ innerdemon Follow

I AM NOT RELATED TO ANY BALD PEOPLE

105 notes

💎​ scarab-g1rl Follow

Alright, who stole my sinister amulet?

#monster high #mh #fakeposting #unreality #fake posts

[itspyon]

compilation post of commentary youtubers talking about dream, no drummyaches edition !

note, i might not exactly like 100% of the things said in these videos BUT they ultimately redeemed dream to a very large audience

starting with i think is the most viewed video right now, Will Dream's Response Actually Fix Anything? by Lessons in Meme Culture. it's 2:40 minutes long and the point is simply to open conversation about him being able to successfully redeem himself, but it has a lovely comment section if you want to scroll through that

Dream Just Responded To Everything by AugustTheDuck, had already spoken about Dream pretty positively, lovely guy, lovely summary [ touches earpiece the main studio is telling me august actually was a dream hater but turned around recently, so noting that down ]

Dream's Response was Perfect, But... by EntLaiser, who previously made a video actually speaking negatively of Dream, completely changed his opinion and talked about how meme culture is being used to justify mass harassment, along with being nice to Dream stans and defending them

Pyrocynical made a video. its bad. don't watch it. he gets cooked in the comments though so that's okay. Acheeto also made a video but i don't like the guy so i'm not linking that either, but it was a good video

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by sensitive soci3ty. i really like this video but i especially like the comments that bring up a lot of great points, it was refreshing scrolling through them

LIES! by Omni. Omni is really big on the commentary community so his input is valued, this video is long and goes through a lot of unrelated stuff because it's a news segment, but i linked to the timestamp he talks about Dream. it is long, it is thorough, he READS THE DESCRIPTION which i haven't seen anyone do, pretty good

Dream Might Actually Be Innocent by Saverino. this guy is like, the perfect representation of "i only consumed Dream content through social media for years", the most passive onlooker in the world. and his video is awesome, he took a lot of notes, he resumed Dream's video pretty well, and i feel the way he thinks of Dream is how people will look at dream from now on

Dream Finally Responded by Dolan Dark. it's a slob but it's fucking Dolan Dark and he says he believes he's innocent so who cares W for us

other creators we already know and knew they believed Dream, Hot Sauce Beats did a live reaction and so did Nate Alyn if you'd like to go and support them

Dream's Response Was Actually Good by Saamuel. dream hater admitting he was wrong. all is good in the world

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by Optimus. don't watch this video lol. he says a bunch of stupid shit, his comments call him out for it, but i am linking it because this guy is huge on the community, a lot of people were waiting on this video on twitter, and he's very clear on saying the allegations are fake, along with shaming twitter antis for their behaviour

Dream's Response Wasn't Good Enough by luhrix specifically talks about the reaction from antis on twitter to the video and how unreasonable some expectations are when it comes to responding to allegations

Does Dream's Response Make Him Innocent? by Blissolic who VERY BRAVELY calls out coyglone ( the guy behind the dreamwastalen account ) for being a piece of shit

Dream Responded... by Repzion. excellent video no notes, less about dream himself and more a critique of how people consume serious topics as "drama" and farm engagement through it

I Was In Dream's Video by orangepeanut. it's kind of ass but he is in dream's video ! he's the "dream sucked his own dick" guy. he says sorry for baiting and actually apologises to dream which is kind of funny, and he does say dream is innocent. just noting it down for reference

Dream's Response Was GREAT! by TekuToji. another excellent video, nice summary. he did thought the poki xqc dms were real but he corrected himself on the comments lol

Dream Has Returned ( and why you should be excited ) by PurpleMatter. sweet video ! go leave a nice comment :D

this is a different one as it is a full reaction, but it is by Kenji, a VERY famous vtuber, and he was awesome about it and called out his chat several times when they spoke misinformed shit. it's very fun and i'm glad a completely different audience now has a positive view of Dream

#i'll add more as i find them when they upload #dreamwastaken

[heartpascal]

masterlist. . .

collection of my writings! more to come… stay tuned

alternatively, read over on my ao3!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

JOEL MILLER

▹ late spring, f!reader — you and joel didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but things have started to change, at least for you. [2.2K words]

▹ the gold, f!reader — you don’t like the person joel’s become. [2.1K words]

▹ i’ll be brave, platonic!f!reader — an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways than one. [2.4K words]

▹ i am good, platonic!f!reader — joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you. [2.4K words]

▹ the crooked kind, platonic!f!reader — you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day. [2.5K words]

▹ the tunnel, platonic!f!reader — joel gets hurt, and in the face of losing the only person you have left, something inside of you breaks. [2.7K words]

▹ to an empty house, niece!reader — tommy hasn’t been your dad for a very long time. [3.0K words]

↳ something is rotten, niece!reader — part two, arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations. [4.0K words]

▹ so far from it, platonic!f!reader — you get yourself into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help. [2.3K words]

▹ all my faith, platonic!f!reader — joel and tess raised you, in a moment of anger, he nearly loses you. [5.3K words]

▹ if the door wasnt shut, platonic!f!reader — months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating. [5.1K words]

↳ i would let you in, platonic!f!reader — part two, after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure. [7.5K words] ↳ lock it when you leave, platonic!f!reader — part three, tensions rise in jackson, leaving you scrambling to find your place. [6.9K words] ↳ check under the doormat, platonic!f!reader — part four, settling down fully in jackson means new friends and more patrols. what could go wrong? [9.7K words] ↳ you’ll find the key, platonic!f!reader — part five, after feeling hopeless, you decide it’s time to heal [10.5K words]

↳ please don’t lose it again, platonic!f!reader — a what if one shot, the aftermath, set in tlou part two [2.7K words]

▹ the world is brighter, platonic!f!reader — joel is trying to be someone he’s not. [13.0K words]

▹ weight too heavy to hold alone, platonic!reader — joel’s life in jackson is much more complicated than he thought it’d be [4.0K words]

↳ hoping there’s somewhere to go, platonic!reader — you try to navigate life after the rejection of the only family you’d ever had [3.9K words] — Recent Work!

▹ break beneath the weight, platonic!reader — joel struggles to deal with someone who isn’t as emotionally constipated as he is [3.9K words]

▹ carved over the door, platonic!reader — you’ve been hiding something, and joel finally finds out what. his reaction is… not what you expected [2.1K words]

▹ forgive the sea, platonic!reader — after a trip to the outside world, you come back different [3.0K words]

▹ when the sun goes down, platonic!f!reader — joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does [3.6K words]

▹ the sun was collapsing, platonic!reader — joel thought you moving to a college halfway across the country would be the worst thing to happen to his family [6.6K words]

▹ fight the tide, platonic!reader — you face the consequences of going to seattle, set in tlou 2 [3.3K words]

▹ i was born waiting, daughter!reader — you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him? [8.1K] — Newest Work!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

TOMMY MILLER

▹ be your armour, platonic!seraphite!reader — after escaping the seraphites, you find that the world is not as they described it. [9.2K words]

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

SPIDERVERSE

▹ is it freedom?, platonic!reader — after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along [8.0K words]

↳ or is it loneliness?, platonic!reader — you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that [9.2K words]

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

. . .check out howl’s song association!

and my platonic joel miller recs!

#heartpascal #masterlist #heartpascal masterlist #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagines #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou imagines #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #heartpascal writes

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.

Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.

Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).

What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?

Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.

I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?

We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!

I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.

You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt

[tacticaldiary]

I just recently found your blog and am in love with everything about it You are a very talented writer and I look forward to your post so I was wondering what you think it would be like sharing a bed with ghost

I Swear I Asked For Two

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; The Classic 'One-Bed' Trope

She freezes when he turns with her, a strong arm banding around her middle, holding her in place. "You gonna make me hold you in place?"

Bless whoever's up there for the dark because her face is burning.

"Would love that, actually." She mutters to herself before she can reign the impulsiveness in.

Masterlist

"Don't hurt me." Raises her hands in surrender, taking an exaggerated step away from him as the door to their room clicks shut behind them. "I swear I asked for two."

Ghost, bloody and dirty and exhausted, runs a hand down his balaclava-covered face, dropping his bag somewhere near the wall behind him. "Better than the floor." Is all he manages.

Once she's sure she's not in any mortal danger, she shoves back her bag next to him and kneels down, rifling through it. "Wash up first, L.T. I'll go after." There's no response but he must agree because he goes off wordlessly, a testament to how he must be just as exhausted as she was.

12 days. 12 days they had been trekking through this rural town trying to track down a target. The man had infiltrated their chain of command and had been feeding crucial information to the enemy for over a month, information that had led to quite a few of their operations being compromised. Needless to say, once he was found out he had ran in the middle of the night.

A slippery bastard.

Long stretches of land, a lot of camping out and surveying the area. Days and days of hunting this man until he was finally caught. Secured with the unit that had been traveling with them, they'd relinquished their target and been ordered to wait for exfil the next day.

Until then...well, this shady motel would have to do for the night.

They're lucky they were near a town and not in one of the long stretches between them, that much she's grateful for. Even if she didn't completely trust the room's ceiling to cave in while they were sleeping.

Stains on the walls she doesn't want to think about, cracks in the ceiling, and of course, the one queen sized bed pushed back to the far wall.

The bed.

Truthfully she doesn't know how she managed to keep her voice steady before. Her stomach was rolling at the thought of having to share a bed with him. With Ghost. With Simon.

He was...well, she thought he was extraordinary. Capable, brave, and funny in his own way. It hadn't taken long for her to develop some sort of a crush on him.

And now she was supposed to bunk down for a night with him? On that bed? Alone?

She shakes her head, focusing on rifling through her pack to find a spare set of clothes. They'd slept in worse conditions before, this was no big deal.

No big deal at all.

She curses as she finds her other pair of clothes filthy, mud staining the fabric. She'd forgotten about how she had to use them already after an unsavoury encounter with one of the locals.

"Something wrong?" She jumps at the deep voice, head snapping up to see him.

His hands are stripped of his gloves, his tactical vest off and away. A soft t-shirt takes its place, along with sweatpants that she has to make a conscious effort to tear her gaze away from.

This simply wasn't fair. It's like he's making this whole situation ten times harder for her on purpose.

"Negative." She says instead, standing up. "I'll have to make do with these clothes, forgot my spares were filthy." He studies her in that silent way for a beat, before he leans down and rummages through his pack.

Leaving him to do whatever, she pushes open the bathroom door while wondering how quickly her clothes would dry if she ran them under the tap-

"Here."

Ghost holds out a spare shirt to her. Plain black.

His.

"What?" It takes a second for her mind to catch up.

He cocks an eyebrow. "You're filthy. I'd rather not sleep next to someone who smells like shit."

The insult draws an indignant bark of a laugh from her, "I don't stink." She exclaims, snatching the shirt from his grip. "Not as bad as you do."

"Tell yourself that." He deadpans, but she swears she can see a hint of an amused smirk beneath his mask when she slams the door in his face.

Muttering to herself, she cleans up before slipping the shirt on. It's obviously large on her, just skimming the bottom of her thighs. It smells like him, something so distinct and familiar it makes her relax on instinct.

It's a wonder what good a hot shower can do for you.

Ghost is already stretched out on the mattress when she emerges from the room. He spares her a glance, and she visibly sees something like muted interest snap into his eyes even despite his lack of words.

She'd be lying if something in her doesn't preen at the way his eyes subtly follow her across the room.

Neither of them exchange a word as she slips into the covers next to him. Both of them barely fit on the mattress, but neither having the energy to complain. They don't brush against each other but if she shifted they'd definitely touch.

The room was secure, they'd done a thorough sweep and checked the doors and window, all the locks and for cameras. Nothing of interest, so they allowed themselves to let their guard down.

"Sharp 05:00 tomorrow, Sergeant." He says into the dark.

"Copy." She stifles a yawn and they fall into silence.

His heat is unbearable. She can't push the thought out of his mind, the knowledge that he's right there, a fingertip's distance away. She can hear his steady, quiet breath, almost taunting her.

Despite her exhaustion, she stays awake, turning onto her side away from him hoping that the movement would dislodge the thought from her mind. She needed sleep, needed to relax but isn't that impossible with how all she needs to do is lean back a little to touch him-

She huffs silently, turns onto her back again, rustling the sheets.

No, this was bad. Her body's tired but her mind and heart are racing. Traitors.

She shifts onto her side again-

"Fucking hell, will you stay still?" He rumbles, startling her. The gravelly, tired voice shoots straight to her head and if she were standing she's sure she'd have to grab onto something to stay upright.

She mumbles out an apology. "Can't sleep. Little chilly, isn't it?" She bluffs.

When he stays silent, she thinks he may have just accepted the answer. Letting out a shaky exhale, she turns again-

She freezes when he turns with her, a strong arm banding around her middle, holding her in place. "You gonna make me hold you in place?"

Bless whoever's up there for the dark because her face is burning.

"Would love that, actually." She mutters to herself before she can reign the impulsiveness in. Her body stiffens when she hears her own voice, and she's ready to spring up and apologise, tell him she didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, ready to banish herself to sleep on the floor.

But then Ghost hums.

His hand starts to drift. She swallows as he traces a slow path down to where his shirt's hem is, toying with the fabric between his fingers.

Dream, this must be a dream-

He tugs her backward into him, into his warmth and his soothing scent and something about it has her going completely boneless. It felt...comforting. Felt nice to be held. Ghost takes to tracing small circles into her skin, soothing and repetitive. "Relax." He orders, albeit with less of a push.

A shiver runs down her spine as she feels his breath fan over the back of his neck. The bastard notices too, if for the way his chest rumbles with a chuckle.

There's no way Ghost doesn't feel her heart pounding against him.

Maybe it was the comfort of the dark that makes the both of them so bold, but she takes in a shaky breath and reaches for his hand, stilling it in place with her own. They stay like that for a moment, and suddenly the silence isn't as unbearable.

Eventually, her breathing evens out, her eyes become heavy and she finds the tension draining out of her. Nothing would happen to her here, she didn't have to worry about anything right now. Just sleep. Just sleep and the warmth that enveloped her, and why the hell was he so warm and why does she want more of it?

Right before she lets the lull of sleep pull her under, she mumbles a whisper of thanks to him.

She doesn't think she imagines the content sound he lets out in response.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(2/09/2023)

#ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #x reader #x y/n #fluff #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | wc: 509 | tags: established relationship, first time, virgin!eddie, just soft boys being soft, not the actual smut I am sorry | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is terrifying by @starryeyedjanai | @steddiemicrofic prompt "edge" | AO3)

Steve's hands start to shake as he lifts Eddie's shirt over his head, and when he fumbles with Eddie's belt, they shake so badly that he can barely get it unbuckled.

They've never done this before. Shaking like that when Steve touches someone he's attracted to, that is.

Because he never felt that way about anyone, not even Nancy.

Like he's on the precipice of something life-changing and once he goes over the edge there's no coming back.

He was 16 years old when he learned that monsters were real and that there was another world out there full of them. Within a few months, he lost his social status, his friends, and his girlfriend. In return, he got a severe head trauma, nightmares, and a bunch of kids who were too smart and too brave for their own good.

And yet, undressing Eddie in his bedroom is the scariest thing he's ever done.

"Are you okay, Stevie? You're shaking," his boyfriend asks him, as if this were Steve's first time and not his own. As if it's Steve who needs gentle reassurance.

Shit, maybe he does. It's like he doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't know how to show Eddie what this means to him, that Eddie trusts him so much. That Eddie loves him so much.

"I'm okay. Just a little nervous, I guess?" Steve concedes, too many things going through his head to put them all in words. "Are you okay?"

Eddie's steady hands wrap around his own shaking ones, squeezing them gently. "I'm good, Stevie."

He says it so simply, his voice as steady and sure as his hands, and Steve wonders how Eddie can be so calm when Steve's heart is pounding in his chest.

"But... aren't you, I don't know, nervous?"

He doesn't want Eddie to be nervous because there's no reason to be. Steve can't wait to explore every inch of that beloved body, to kiss every single scar and thank anyone who will listen that he's allowed to do that. His body and soul both long to get closer to Eddie, and soon they'll be as close as two people can be.

And yet, it feels like something might be wrong with him if Eddie doesn't feel any of the overwhelming fear that has Steve so nervous that he can't even get them naked without shaking.

Pulling Steve in, Eddie presses Steve's palm against the warm skin of his chest, just above his heart.

It's beating as fast as Steve's, and something settles inside him. He's not alone in this, Eddie is with him. Where one goes, the other follows.

"Oh, I am. I'm so fucking nervous, because I have no idea what I'm doing while you have all this experience. I don't want to let you down. But I'm still good because it's you, Stevie. You're here, so I don't have to worry, even though I'm scared."

Taking a step forward so that Steve's hand over his heart is trapped between them, Eddie kisses him gently.

"I'm safe with you."

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie drabble #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #steddiemicrofic #my writing #day 18

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

you once said that the ZK do not allow the canonical Zuko to show real, sometimes ugly signs of trauma. can you write more about this? because that's what I always felt when I came across their terrible takes, but I couldn't express it.

Gladly! But first, I need to mention the sign of trauma that Zuko usually lacks - and that, for some reason, the fandom insists defines his character:

Fear

Don't get wrong, I'm not saying Zuko never experienced fear. We all saw that poor boy on his knees, crying, begging his father not to hurt him.

But in "Zuko Alone" we also see 10-year-old Zuko get bitter that only his younger sister was expected to show off her firebending skills, and deciding that he would go against his father and demonstrate his own skills to the Fire Lord - that despite the fact that he knew Azula was better at it than he was. Even when it goes wrong, he is upset, but doesn't look afraid of the consequences.

That same episode shows Azula mocking him for playing with knives despite not even being good at it, and even though the fandom insists she was his worst fear ever since he was a child, Zuko responds with a "Put an apple on your head and we'll see how good I am." That little guy has exactly zero chill.

Let's not forget why he was banished either: Despite being considered too young to be in that war meeting, Zuko demanded to be there, eventually got his way, and despite having been told not to say anything, the second he hears a general suggest using their own men as "fresh meat" to lure the enemy, Zuko speaks out against it. And at the start of the Agni Kai, he looked 100% ready to fight a grown ass man with battle experience - until he saw it was his father/Fire Lord.

Let's not forget his Agni Kai with Zhao, which was his idea and that he actually won - and before that, he openly calls Ozai a fool, to which Zhao points out that banishment clearly not teach Zuko to watch his mouth. Or the time he openly challenged Azula in Ba Sing Se and they only didn't fight then and there because Azula knew she'd have the advantage by using the Dai Li. Hell, at the start of that very season, after she tried to lure him to a trap, Zuko's first reaction is to charge at her, fire-daggers in hand. That boy is the definition of "Fuck around and find out."

He has also done things like choosing to save his uncle from earthbenders instead of chasing Aang, crossing a blockade and going into actual Fire Nation territory even though he legally is no longer allowed to do that, and helped rescue Aang from Zhao as the Blue Spirit. It shows us that Zuko doesn't have an issue with temporarely deviating from his mission because of something HE deems important even though his father doesn't, openly disregarding Ozai's orders, and even basically saying "My father will have the Avatar as a prisoner only if I'm the one to capture him"

And, of course, on the day of the eclipse, Zuko grabs his swords and directly threatens Ozai, telling that bastard to sit the fuck down, shut up, and listen to his list of reasons why he sucks as a parent, ruler and person.

Zuko is brave. Unbelievably so. He is fierce, proud, and impulsive to the point of getting himself in situations that he should have known would not go his way (like fighting a waterbender in the snow, in the full moon) because he is very much a "act first, think later" kind of guy. So the fandom's insistence that he is constantly paralyzed by fear is a gross over-simplification of how his trauma affects him.

We only see him genuinely afraid of Ozai twice. During the Agni Kai itself, and then again when he WANTS to speak out against his father's plan to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground, but can't bring himself to because he remembers what happened last time he spoke out against that kind of horrible thing during a war meeting, at that very room. It took something THAT triggering to make him cower before a challenge.

However, fear wasn't the only reason why didn't speak out during that moment, and that takes us to the first "ugly" sign of trauma that the fandom as a whole likes to pretend Zuko wasn't repeatedly shown to experience:

"My father is right about me, actually"

Zuko doesn't think Ozai was wrong to disfigure and banish him. How could he? Nobody in that entire room stood up to at least try to support him, not even his uncle - who also once said "Why would your father have banished you if he didn't care about you?" because, surprise surprise, nobody in that family knows how to help someone through trauma because they're all dealing with their own shit. Even his crew, who WAS sympathetic to him after finding out how he got that scar, were still 100% willing to not only support Ozai, but risk their lives for him.

Zuko isn't just trying to heal from abuse, he is trying to heal from victim-blaming, and to go against YEARS of indoctrination that say the Fire Lord can do no wrong. That's part of why it was so difficult for Iroh and others to help him: Zuko didn't believe that he needed or deserved help.

And that is also one of his three major unhealthy coping mechanisms. Claiming that HE needs to prove himself to Ozai, that HE needs to make up for HIS mistakes, not the other way around.

It might seem strange that this could be a way to cope, but look at it this way: If it WAS his fault instead of Ozai's, then that means his dad is not an unfair, abusive piece of shit that is unbelievably cruel and impossible to please. Zuko just needs to accomplish this mission of capturing the Avatar and everything will be fine, they'll be a normal family again, and he won't have to be afraid of someone he thought he could trust.

It was like Iroh said: Things are never going to be the same ever agin, but the Avatar gives Zuko HOPE. And that hope that his abuser will one day have a change of heart and be a loving father to him again is both what allows Zuko not to give into despair - and what keeps him trapped in that awful situation.

Misplaced Anger

Another "unpleasant" sign of trauma that Zuko has is how he clearly has an anger problem. Sure, he's a moody teenager with a short fuse, but we see over and over again that he tends to blow things way out of proportion, and that when faced a fact or opinion he doesn't like, he is quick to lash out at someone with VERY cruel words (see him calling Iroh a lazy, shallow, jealous old man in "Avatar State", or calling him crazy and saying if he wasn't in prison, he'd be sleeping in a gutter in "The Headband").

Through the entire show, many people faced Zuko's wrath - Iroh, Aang and friends, his crew, Azula, innocent people of the Earth Kingdom, Mai, Ty Lee, that one rando that talked to Mai, and even Zuko himself.

The one person that usually escapes said wrath is, ironically, Ozai. In "Zuko Alone" he refuses to believe his father would ever be capable of harming him, in "Avatar State" he snaps at Iroh for doubting that Ozai really changed his mind about the whole banishment thing.

He is mad at Aang for being too difficult to capture, and at Zhao for stealing his one chance to come home. He never stops to question if it's fair that his father had him chase someone that was presumed dead, aka an impossible task, as the condition to bring him home. He also never addresses how he feels about the reason WHY said banishment happened until the Day Of Black Sun.

He is mad at Azula for lying to him and trying to take him home as a prisoner. He never gets mad at his father for not only wanting to lock him away forever because ZHAO screwed up at the North Pole, nor how messed up it was that he put Azula in charge of said mission.

For fuck's sake, in the day of the eclipse, we find out that Zuko legit believed his mother was DEAD - and the entire circumstance was shady as hell and put Ozai in a very bad light. Yet Zuko still wanted his love, still wanted to be a "worthy" son.

He HAS to direct his anger at other people, otherwise he'll realize that no, his father, the adult that was meant to care for him, is a complete monster.

Everytime Zuko lashes out at other people before confronting Ozai, he's basically acting like someone who is drowning and, in a panic, is trying to pull the nearest person under so he can try to breathe. It is one of the most accurate and honest representations of trauma and abuse, and it makes me SO mad when people erase it in their fics because "poor, innocent, helpless turtleduck that can do no wrong" makes Zuko look like less of a dick - and also completely strips him of his agency.

And that isn't even the thing that fans ignore the most. That "honor" goes to the simple fact that Zuko, as expected of a child raised to believe the Fire Lord can do no wrong, decided that Azula had the right idea and that the best way to avoid being a victim again was...

Copying His Abuser

Zuko has REPEATEDLY let his "inner Ozai" out through the show.

He is all manipulative by not letting the pirates know he was chasing the Avatar who was worth A LOT more than the scrowl they'd get as a reward for helping him, and by using Katara's necklace as a way to try and get her to say where Aang was.

He repeatedly steals stuff from innocent people (including some who helped him, like Song) because, in his own words "These people should just be giving stuff to us" - aka he's very much an entitled prince.

He betrays his uncle by joining Azula in Ba Sing Se, leading to Iroh being thrown in prison. He also doesn't give a shit when Katara says "I thought you had changed!" and he sends a freaking assassin after the Gaang. Even him refusing to tell Azula that there was a chance Aang could still be alive works both as a "Zuko doesn't trust Azula to not use that against him, and for good reason" and "Zuko did not even stop to think that, since Azula was the one who killed Aang, him coming back also puts HER in danger, because he's too focused on his own problems to notice anybody else's."

More importantly, he rejected a chance of a ceasefire with the Gaang three times (The Blue Spirit, The Chase, Crossroads of Destiny), much like Ozai refused his shot at ending the war in the finale before his battle with Aang, and not only did he challenge Zhao to an Agni Kai and seriously consider burning him, he also threatened one of his crewmen by saying he'd "teach him respect" - which we found out later that episode was what Ozai right before disfiguring poor Zuko.

For fuck's sake, Ozai was literally designed to look like an older Zuko. One without a scar, one that was never banished, one that never had to see first-hand all the death and suffering war brings and reflect on the role he plays in it.

Finally, we have the war meetings in "Nightmares And Daydreams", in which Zuko doesn't speak out against his father's completely inhumane plans to deal with the Earth Kingdom. When talking about it with Mai, he says "I was the perfect prince, the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me."

That is the turning point for Zuko for a reason. It's him finally being forced to acknowledge that, to become Ozai's ideal son, to earn his (conditional) love, to not be his victim he has to be just as bad as he is, just as cruel, just as unfair - and we see in Azula's breakdown how Zuko likely would have ended up if he accepted that path.

But he didn't, and that was not easy because even though it was the morally correct choice, it'd require him to sacrifice everything - his title as a prince, his right to be in the Fire Nation, his relationship with Mai, his (extremelly complicated, sometimes good, often awful) bond with Azula, the "easy" way to get literally anything he wanted at everyone else's expense, and, of course, accept that his father was never going to love him, was never going to change, and was never going to feel sorry for abusing him.

Erasing such a central conflict of his character for the sake of denying he ever did anything wrong is, ironically, removing one of Zuko's most noble character traits: his inability to just live with himself after doing something horrible. There's a reason he is in deep conflict even after getting everything he wanted after the fall of Ba Sing Se - he knows he doesn't deserve it after what he's done.

If you ignore his mistakes and the horrible consequences it had for other people, you also ignore Zuko's growth. This puts him more in the position of a good guy being held hostage by the evil villain, not of a troubled child that redeems himself as he matures.

No flaws, no mistakes, no growth, no arc.

Trauma Doesn't Just Go Away

This one is, by far, the bad trope regarding Zuko's trauma that Zutarians are the most guilt of: assuming that if he just gets enough comforting hugs (mainly from Katara), all of his inner turmoil will suddenly be healed. No more sadness, no more fear, no more of the ugly traits they never acknowledge in the first place. Just a happy, fully recovered Zuko.

But that's just not how these things work. Having the support of a loved one helps victims feel better, but it won't magically make everything okay. Trauma is a really difficult thing to handle. There's good days, bad days, relapses, bad habits that are difficult to move past from. And not only are there cases in which people take YEARS to recover, there are also cases in which they never fully heal, and instead just learn to live with that burden that is still very much present.

I understand the desire to show in fics and headcanons that Zuko will eventually be fully healed and happy, but the way Zutarians make Katara act as not just his girlfriend, but as basically his therapist that needs to find miracle solutions for every single one of his problems, comfort him whenever any minor inconvenience happens until he's gotten enough hugs to be magically okay doesn't just reveal how hypocritical they are, since they insist Kataang is about Katara being Aang's girlfriend/mom/baby-sitter, but also that they legit do not understand a damn thing about trauma and how it works.

Which takes me to:

How Mai Actually Did Right By Zuko

Poor, poor Mai. She gets blamed for "bring out the worst in Zuko", for not being "supportive", for being too cold and unemotional, for not "seeing the real him" - yet she's one of the characters that CONSISTENLY help put Zuko back on his track.

She offers him emotional support and lots of signs of affection over and over again - telling him not worry when they're arriving at the Fire Nation, pointing out she doesn't hate him when she says she's beautiful when she hates the world, explicitly saying she cares about him in The Beach, being incredibly sweet and loving to him during all of Nightmares and Daydreams, and then again in the finale by helping him get dressed up and acting all cute as they get back together.

But she also holds him accountable when he screws up. She doesn't let him use his difficult life as an excuse to be a jerk and calls him out when he's being unreasonable, or when she feels mistreated/like he's making a mistake (see The Beach and Boiling Rock Part 2).

But since the fandom loves to completely erase Zuko's mistakes AND to not let go of a stupid ship war, this completely changes the context, making Mai out to be this awful, bitchy girlfriend, when in reality, she did a great job handling Zuko - sometimes even better than the fan favorite and mentor figure Zuko had through most of his arc.

Uncle Iroh Fucked Up

Before all of you try to kill me, let me make one thing clear here: I love Uncle Iroh. He is one of the most awesome characters in the show, and I fully believe he was trying his best to help Zuko.

But he is still a human being that makes mistakes, and he was raised in the same dysfunctional family Zuko was, meaning he often had NO IDEA how to handle his deeply traumatized teenage nephew/son.

Him spending all of book 1 trying to help Zuko capture Aang so he could go back to living with the guy that disfigured him is already bad enough, but we also have the episode "Avatar State" in which Iroh asks "Why would your father banish you if he didn't care about you?"

Obviously he only did these things because he didn't want Zuko give into despair and depression - but he is still, at best, ignoring the issue, and at worst actively making excuses for Ozai's abuse of his own son. This backfires on him spectacularly, as Zuko sides with Azula over him both in the first and last episode of the season specifically because he believes that appeasing Ozai is the right thing to do, as he was only banished "for his own good."

But THE biggest mistake Iroh made when it came to helping Zuko was his refusal to accept that no, Zuko was never going to be happy by living a quiet, simple life in Ba Sing Se - even after Zuko explicitly said as much to his face.

Obviously, to some extent, Iroh HAS to make Zuko accept that he won't ever be able to come back home after Ozai literally ordered Azula to capture him, but he could have tried to find some kind of middle ground with Zuko, since being a waiter clearly wasn't making him happy.

"Oh, but what about how Zuko started acting after his metamorphosis? He was so happy about working on the tea-shop with his uncle, and that was supposed to reveal his true self!"

Yes, it was supposed to do that. But we saw how Zuko acted after actually dealing with his trauma and redeeming himself. He was obviously in a much healthier place, both mentally and spiritually, but he was still moody, still sarcastic, still as proud as ever, and even Iroh recognized that he was meant to be Fire Lord.

Zuko's arc has a lot to do with identity, with how he sees himself. At that point, the only thing he still had in life was his uncle - so he was acting like him, because there seemed to be no other role model, no other path. Seeing that weird, cheery, relaxed, always-seeing-the-good-side-of-things version of Zuko was honestly unnerving.

And Iroh thought that Zuko basically giving himself the Lake Laogai treatment was okay because he following in his footsteps, doing what helped IROH heal and change - he didn't realize it was never gonna be able to do the same for Zuko.

The very second Azula shows up, even when she's being hostile, Zuko drops the facade, because she's a reminder of both his old life and what he thought his future would be. And when she offers him "redemption" Iroh tried to advice Zuko against joining her by saying "The redemption she offers is not for you" (as in not for someone who is doing better and doesn't need to return to the Fire Nation) and "It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good." How is it a choice if Iroh is explicitly saying which option Zuko cannot pick, essentially making the decision for him?

Iroh didn't just get the way to help Zuko wrong - he didn't realize his nephew didn't believe he needed help. They were not on the same page at all, and that contribuited to Zuko betraying him.

Though, thankfully, it ended up being for the best, as Zuko found his own way to redemption by himself.

Conclusion

This fandom as a whole tends to not understand Zuko at all and just eat up a bunch of fanon while pretending to be so intellectual, which I very much resent it for.

#anti zutara #pro maiko #pro mai #zuko is not an awkward turtleduck

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Molasses

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, Idk if i'd call this fluff lol, bad communication gets resolved at the end WARNING: trigger warning for CRINGE

“Is it easy for you to keep up with him?”

Your friend is interrogating you about Kaiser again. After a while, the topic of your relationship lost novelty, making way for newer drama, but it’s difficult for them to disregard that you’re dating a football player. Like, a real one, not just some dude who goes to play every other Sunday with his buddies.

You swirl your straw around your drink, looking at it like there’s slop in the glass instead of what you ordered. You wouldn’t say you keep up with Kaiser, so you shrug. “Give him a ball to kick around and he’ll be content.”

They raise an eyebrow, picking up on your sulking. Not like you’re being subtle about it. “So, I take it you’re not super stoked about things right now?”

Well, that’s the thing. You have nothing to do with what makes him happy. You don’t even call him by his first name, which is odd for obvious reasons, but also because it gives off the impression you’re one of the lackeys on his team, even though you don’t play. Or worse, a stalker fan who follows him around a lot.

Of course, you know what he’s like. That he’s a jerk who isn’t occupied with much besides himself, whose personality is cold and distant, and despite being a bit of a romantic, you’d prefer to think you didn’t have any unrealistic expectations. Maybe you overestimated your ability to tolerate how unavailable he is. And still — still! — is it such a crime to expect your boyfriend to display some vulnerability after several months of dating?

He doesn’t show you much of himself besides his persona, but you find it unnecessary, this covering up and playing His Majesty and forcing distance between you two with his paper thin smiles and showy kisses after games. You’re not a journalist trying to write an exposé on him (‘Michael Kaiser Is a Big Bitch’). You just… You just like him is all, and have a desire for a more profound closeness.

Does he share the same sentiments of affection towards you? It’s kind of a ridiculous question to ask yourself, and he’s way too pompous to allow anyone he finds uninteresting in his presence, but are you on his mind as often as he is on yours? Does he wonder about you the same way? You don’t believe you’re even half as elusive as he is, so it doesn’t seem plausible.

On the other hand, are you too overbearing? Should you pull back and relax?

You’ve been meaning to be mature and speak up about your concerns, but have been procrastinating on the conversation. For now, you wallow in your doubts while your friend suggests you break up with him and points out how big his forehead is, and how dumping a star is a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity.’

___

Kaiser is… off balance.

Not really. He’s standing upright and his posture is perfect and he’s not dizzy, but right now, the world is wrong and he can only hope the way he is clawing at his phone doesn’t betray how upset he is.

“Ness,” he says in his ‘I am about to complain’ tone. It is also only slightly different from his usual voice.

“Yes?”

“Before I continue, I just want you to know that I’m being very brave and nonchalant about this.”

Ness smiles, the expression seeming guileless as usual. “Of course,” he says eventually.

Kaiser all but shoves the screen in his face, since putting all of your offenses into words is beyond him, though it soon occurs to him Ness can’t read from this proximity and ceases the assault he’s committing on his eyes. Ness scans over your sparse chat, looks up at Kaiser again, and raises his eyebrows.

“They can’t make it to practice?” He states it in the form of a question when it appears that Kaiser is unwilling to talk, even though he’s the one who started the conversation.

“Congratulations, you can read. How many times has this happened?”

“I don’t know,” Ness says, despite knowing this is the fifth since he counted every time you didn’t show up the last two weeks. “Are they not feeling well?”

You shot him down the last two times he asked you to go out on a date. And you haven’t called before bed in a while. And you didn’t even add a kissy emoji when you told him good luck (not like he cares about your stupid emojis, but you didn’t). And whenever you see him lately, you act closed off.

“No, they’re totally avoiding me,” he says, after going through a mental flashback of all of your betrayals as if he was in a war instead of on iMessage. “Do you think I’m ugly? Or maybe boring?”

“Never.”

“Then what should I do?”

Did he have a plan for if he were unattractive? Get plastic surgery just to keep dating you or something? “You should try asking.”

“Maybe our relationship is losing its spark,” Kaiser says, completely disregarding Ness’s input. Ness continues smiling. It is unnerving, but an idea comes to Kaiser’s mind, and he’s too busy marveling at his genius to notice. “It’s an easy fix. I just need to romance [Y/n] again.”

Ness is still smiling.

“Anyway,” Kaiser continues despite the lack of answer, “you know they love those comics or whatever. It can be like a challenge. Recreate the atmosphere, sweep them off their feet. I can make my sweetie’s dreams come true. Because I’m not replaceable, and only I can do that for them. Right?”

For a brief moment, Ness considers telling him this is not the way and that he’s jumping through so many hoops, he’s going to trip and fall, but decides against it. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what he’s saying. He doubts anyone else would come to this conclusion, for one, let alone devise a plan around it. If irreplaceable is synonymous with unique by some stretch of the imagination, then sure.

“Of course,” he says again. His eyes are big and innocent. Kaiser gets the distinct impression that Ness is judging him right now.

___

It’s already dark outside and you’re still sitting at your desk, doing mundane things on your computer, once again distracted from an assignment you’ve been meaning to do for a while. Something smacks against the window, startling you, but when you pull the curtains, you don’t see anything near the sill. You assume you imagined the noise, but another pebble hits the window, and this time you witness it as it happens.

The thought of some asshole throwing rocks at your windows irritates you, so you stand up to investigate, pressing your forehead against the glass.

Kaiser waves at you from below, looking way too cheery. You don’t know what he’s doing here, but you turn to go and let him in through the intercom — did he ring? you don’t remember him doing so — until you notice him gesturing at you to open the windows. Confused, you comply, peeking your head out, the cold breeze blowing against your cheeks and invading your already poorly insulated apartment.

“You look lovely today,” he yells out. Not a strong start, but he can redeem himself. Maybe.

“Thanks? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yes.” You lean away from the window again, but he stops you with another bizarre request. “No, wait. Later.”

This perplexes you even more, but you humor him with a weary expression anyway, resting your face against your palm.

… You interrupt his unnecessarily loud reading of some obscure love poem with a flail of your hands and a, “Cut it out and just come up!”

God, you hope none of your neighbors heard. To spare you both of this embarrassment, you don’t give him a chance to continue and instead close the windows, hurrying to let him in and unlock your door.

What’s with him, anyway? You feel a pinprick of anxiety at what’s about to come after such a strange… greeting from him, but try your best to seem stoic while you wait for Kaiser to climb up the stairs.

When he comes into view, you offer him what you consider a cool nod (which you may or may not have practiced in the mirror), and he continues to stand there at the doorway as if waiting for something. You move aside to give him space. Kaiser blinks once, figures this isn’t going his way, then follows your lead.

“Please don’t make me ask ‘where’s my hug at?’” he says, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. “That’s not like me at all.”

In your struggle to think of a neutral response, all you come up with is, “No one’s making you do anything,” which sounds more disagreeable than what you’re going for.

His lips settle into a thin line, the action calculating, as if he’s contemplating his next move. Both of you are being tactical. It’s weird considering this is supposed to be a sweet surprise visit from your boyfriend, not a battle of psychological warfare, but you don’t even know what’s going on anymore.

Then he takes a step closer until he’s in front of you, invading your personal space with his face leaning in so close to yours, resting his palm against the wall, almost pinning you to the wall but not quite. “Why not?”

“Do you need something? I kind of wasn’t expecting you, so,” you say irrelevantly. In your head, you’re still trying to make sense of this, not understanding where these corny gestures are coming from all of a sudden.

“No, I just wanted to see you. Is that a crime?” he says, backing away, folding his hands behind his back. There’s an artificial grin on his face. “Was this enjoyable for you?”

“Well, um, it was alright.”

“Did you like my recitation?”

“No…”

He read your stupid favorite series and the idiot love interest did both of those things. Does he have something that Kaiser doesn’t? And should he throw an irrational and jealous tantrum about it, shoujo style, or should he move onto the amnesia subplot?

This is awkward. You can’t think of an inoffensive topic to bring up. Perhaps deliberately withdrawing yourself from him has impaired your conversational skills? Either way, his unpredictable actions from earlier are throwing you off your game.

Kaiser follows you when you lead him to the couch, sitting in a manner you think is far too dignified considering he was serenading you from under your balcony not too long ago — prim and proper, with his ankle crossed over his knee and his hands intertwined together like he’s at a fancy meeting, offering opinions about a business deal.

You fumble for the remote with sweaty fingers, turning on the TV, hoping for a distraction. You can’t focus because you can feel Kaiser’s gaze on you, putting you on edge, burning into your side profile. He’s not even paying attention to whatever random show you started.

You turn towards him, conveying your incredulity with a raise of your eyebrows because you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to ask. ‘Why are you looking at me?’ doesn’t communicate what you want to say to the fullest extent.

“Oh, you caught me staring longingly at you. How embarrassing,” Kaiser says with the same sly smile, not sounding the slightest bit ashamed.

“Are you okay?”

“No. Have we met before?”

You scrunch your face in evident disbelief and think, OBVIOUSLY?

It makes Kaiser contemplate whether the amnesiac subplot is worth continuing.

“Seriously, you’re acting weird,” you say after gathering your wits.

“‘Weird,’” he repeats in fake amusement and looks away, switching from… whatever he’s been doing to a strange defensiveness, then adjusts the collar of his shirt. “I think the definition of that word is subjective.”

“I mean, sure.”

“And anyway, you were the one who was acting strange first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Instead of acting like I don’t exist anymore, you should’ve just said you want to separate.”

God, Kaiser is so dramatic. Saying you were ‘acting like he doesn’t exist’ just because your world doesn’t revolve around him. You’re struggling to keep up with these mood swings. “But I don’t want to break up?”

“Oh,” he says before his lips turn up again. “That’s good,” he settles on, figuring it makes him come across as calm and collected enough.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you were doing, but… if you were worried about something, maybe you should’ve just told me?”

“You’re so cute when you’re being hypocritical.”

You cross your arms and frown, offended.

“I mean,” Kaiser elaborates, “you haven’t told me why you’re avoiding me either. And what was I doing? I wanted to find a new way to woo you again, but since you didn’t notice, it obviously didn’t work. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“Well, it’s hard to put it into words,” you say, picking at a hangnail on your finger to distract yourself. “I don’t want you to woo me or anything. A lot of the things you do are performative, just for show. Even all this wasn’t sincere… So I don’t wanna be in a situation where I’m opening up to you when you’re not doing the same.”

He seems taken aback by this. “Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“Not exactly. More like the depth of them, if that makes sense?”

“When I thought I was losing you, I started acting irrational,” he says in a disdainful tone, vaguely gesturing at nothing in particular to imply this entire ordeal. “I hate to admit it, but it scared me how much it was affecting me.” Kaiser appears to regret admitting this almost immediately, though, because he tries to divert your attention by asking, “Is this the appealing kind of vulnerable? Or the pathetic one? I could repeat myself while flipping my hair from my best angle if it’d help.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you say. “I should’ve just been upfront instead of playing games. You were right, that’s pretty hypocritical of me.”

“Yes, you should be sorry, making me act like a clown.” You narrow your eyes at him in annoyance. “But I guess I was confusing you, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Hold on,” you say, when the tropes finally click into your head (though you have to admit, as much as you love the romance genre, these things do come across as really bizarre in real life). “I don’t know if you were reading with your ass or what, but all these things are supposed to happen before the characters get together. It was way too late for any of this!”

“Haha. Is that so?” Kaiser asks, pretending he’s not dying of even more mortification on the inside. Then he pulls out his phone. “That reminds me, I organized a duel for your hand against Ness at the city center for later. I guess I should cancel it.”

“What-”

“Don’t worry, we choreographed it to be quick and painless, with a decisive win in my favor,” he says, as if any of what he mentioned is what you were questioning.

“Choreographed- Never mind, actually, I don’t wanna know. Why would Ness even agree?”

“Because I asked him to do it…?”

#michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 3: Cursed Creatures

AO3 Link | Chapter 2 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas

Note: This is not at all how I thought this chapter would start. Alas, I am riddled with religious trauma, and Taylor Swift just released the song “Guilty as Sin?” I mean… “My boredom’s bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks, Throwing my life to the WOLVES” Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. So this started out differently than I planned. But what was I to do? I am just a girl.

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There were many topics on which you had been educated in-depth but were never supposed to experience first-hand.

Sex was one of those topics.

You knew the mechanics of it. The anatomy that was involved. Its purposes and benefits. The dangers of it.

You had been told, vehemently, that it was something that should never be done outside of the safe and proper confines of marriage.

Which meant you could never do it because you could never marry.

The Prophet had to remain pure.

Set apart.

Free from romantic, familial, worldly ties.

You were taught to suppress any desire to do otherwise. A task that you had been mostly successful at upholding.

But there were times when your eyes lingered where they shouldn’t and your own thoughts made you shiver and blush.

It was the sin of lust.

The other major vices were usually easily circumvented. You could be disciplined and selfless, just and kind, modest and brave.

You always did what you were told, and you didn’t ask questions.

You told yourself that you weren’t weak; you just knew your place. You knew what was expected of you, and no other options had ever been made available.

So, like thrown clay, you had allowed yourself to be molded into the person you were today, each piece of you carefully and intentionally shaped by the hands of others.

The Elders created the perfect Seraphite specimen. Quietly devout. Enigmatic. Indelible. Untouchable. Obedient.

A mouthpiece disguised as a leader.

A Prophet.

They made you.

You were not a naturally occurring thing.

Sometimes you didn’t even feel human.

Lust was one sin you knew could be concealed, buried far below your surface, unseen by critical eyes.

It was a small act of rebellion. A hidden glimmer of defiance. Although, you weren’t doing it on purpose.

And it was made especially loathsome due to the regrettable fact that it only ever happened to you when you were looking at or thinking of a woman…

Now the Wolf stood in front of you, hammer held tightly in her right hand.

Demons were quickly descending upon you, and you had just witnessed (and neglected to intervene into) the death of three of your own people. The only person you helped was the Wolf, your enemy, who you were meant to kill.

You could guess what the Elders would say if they were here now. How disappointed they would look as they pointed out your many failings.

For once, you didn’t care.

Strangely, despite everything, you felt like a bird whose cage door was just thrown wide open.

Or a well-trained dog that had been mistakenly let off leash.

You could breathe. Unrestricted.

Your eyes remained glued to the Wolf.

Her back was to you, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. Her shoulders rose with each of her deep, deliberate breaths.

Time seemed to slow as your eyes traced down the length of her arms, taking in her strong form…

See, you knew the sin of lust was bad, if only because it made you stupid.

Or distracted, at the very least.

Demons were coming, and you had just been moments away from gutting this girl.

You definitely couldn’t trust her.

But you didn’t have to trust her to look at her.

A series of snapping twigs and high-pitched shrieks from the surrounding forest instantly brought your attention back to the approaching threat.

Demons were another one of those things that they taught you about but never thought you’d actually encounter.

When you arrived on the mainland that morning, you had been led to the network of Seraphite-built bridges, above the city, concealed in the clouds.

Nearly your entire day had been spent in the sky.

If there were any Demons below, you didn’t see them.

Honestly, you hoped you’d never have to come across the cursed creatures.

The sounds they made were animalistic, but somehow still eerily human. Like a voice that was either enraged or overwhelmed with pain.

You had been told that they were unsavable. Completely consumed by the disease and irrevocably punished for their sins. No longer even human.

As a child, you heard stories of the first Prophet valiantly fighting off hordes in defense of her early followers.

In training, they taught you how to fight both Demons and human adversaries alike. Although the former was always theoretical.

You were shown sketches, detailing the different stages of it.

Foolishly, you thought you were ready.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came running out from the cover of the trees.

It moved faster than you would’ve thought possible, too quickly for you to take it all in, but the glimpses you captured were grotesque.

It went straight for the Wolf, swinging its arms wildly. She effortlessly dodged its attack before striking with the hammer. Hard. It was dead in just three blows.

Two more approached from behind you, closest to Lev, and it was past time for you to be useful.

Lev was a skilled archer, but he was still a kid. And Yara, also a kid, only had use of one of her arms.

Both of the Demons were focused on Lev. He fired an arrow, hitting one of them in the chest, but it didn’t take it down.

Its back was to you.

You couldn’t let yourself freeze again.

You closed the distance between you and the beast, lifting your dagger with both hands and bringing it back down swiftly, piercing deeply through its skull.

It let out one last pained shriek as it fell.

The Wolf had taken out the other Demon before Lev had to loose another arrow.

But there were two more where those came from. One swung at the Wolf, and the other came for you.

You were able to dodge, narrowly missing the impact of its savage attack. Stepping back, you continued to evade its blows.

You swung at it, but the thing was fast. Your blade cut into its shoulder instead of its head. Ripping your weapon out, you tried again. This time, you hit your target.

That was two for you.

“Prophet, look out!” Yara shouted. Before you could discern which direction the threat was coming from, you were brutally thrown to the ground, the wind knocked out of you entirely.

Death wore the grisly face of the Demon standing above you.

You had dropped your dagger, leaving you completely defenseless.

Lev’s arrows pierced its throat twice.

It kept coming.

You blinked and it was on the ground. The Wolf knelt over it, hammer crashing over its skull repeatedly, past when the thing was decidedly dead, until the hammer actually broke in her hand.

You just blinked again.

She saved you.

Why did she save you?

You scrambled to your feet, your breaths coming too quickly.

You tried not to panic.

You had only almost died.

You were fine.

The Wolf dropped the splintered remnants of the hammer and stood, shaking out her hand. You stared as she walked over to where your dagger lay on the ground and bent to pick it up.

She looked at you for—as far as you could tell—the first time since you’d cut her down from the rope.

She walked over, holding your gaze.

You realized that she could kill you now. That that was likely why she had saved you.

So she could end you herself.

Because you were the Prophet, and a Seraphite. Or because you had nearly killed her before.

She could even do it with your own weapon. The one that had been meant for her.

You imagined that would be satisfying for a brutish Wolf.

As she approached, you noticed that she towered over you, making you doubly aware of the fact that this was not a fight you would win if it came down to it. Especially when you were unarmed.

She stopped when she stood only a couple feet in front of you, turning the dagger over in her hand and simply offering it to you, handle-first.

Dumbly, you slowly reached out and took it.

Her hand fell back to her side.

There was a hint of a smug little smile on her face, like she knew what you had been thinking.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” she said, voice low. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to you, and you resented the way it made your cheeks warm.

Before you could come up with a competent response, Yara interrupted.

“Prophet, Wolf! Come on. We have to move!” She held a lit torch in her uninjured hand. Lev stood at her side, ready to run.

“Where are you going?” the Wolf asked, unsure if she would be following. You were already moving to join Yara and Lev.

“Out of these woods. We’ve gotta run! Now! The coast is this way.”

They took off into the trees with you close behind. The sound of footsteps falling behind you informed you of the Wolf’s apparent decision to tag along, at least for the time being.

You could also hear more Demons, closing in on either side, chasing the torch’s light. Which meant they were after Yara.

You ran faster, trying to close the distance between you just in case.

As she passed an abandoned vehicle, one of the Demons jumped out, tackling her to the ground.

Lev shot an arrow through its head as you ran to her, pushing the dead Demon off and helping her back to her feet.

The horrifying chorus of even more of them, just beyond your vision, made you startle with each screech.

“They’re all around us!” Yara cried, moving closer to her brother.

The Wolf, weaponless after breaking the hammer, quickly looked around, finding a glass bottle. She grabbed it and threw it at the next creature that emerged from the forest.

The Demon slowed, momentarily stunned, and the Wolf wasted no time knocking it over and bringing her foot down on its skull hard and fast.

Just one stomp and it was dead.

You flushed again, transfixed.

Stupid.

You should not find that attractive.

But she was undeniably incredible.

You shook your head in an attempt to refocus as you turned to watch Lev take down another with a couple well-aimed shots.

A shriek behind you revealed the presence of yet another. You turned to meet it, killing the thing easily enough.

It seemed your training in combat had been sufficient after all, at least where Demons were concerned.

“That was the last of them,” Yara said.

“You guys okay?” the Wolf asked, like she might actually care.

“Yeah,” Lev breathed out, bow and arrow still at the ready.

“We have to keep moving before more come,” Yara insisted, taking up the lead again as she pressed forward.

You all ran after her.

“Every direction looks the same,” said the Wolf. You were inclined to agree. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“It has to be this way,” Yara said, quietly determined.

“What the hell am I doing?” the Wolf muttered to herself under her breath.

The four of you picked up your speed as the Demons grew closer.

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Abby seriously had no idea what the hell she was doing.

She was running through the woods, fighting off Infected with three Scars.

And one of them was the Prophet.

Who had been fully intending to disembowel her not too long ago…

Something had to be wrong with her. Maybe it was brain damage from nearly suffocating.

Because this wasn’t like her.

A couple hours ago, Abby was killing Scars. Happily.

Well maybe that wasn’t the best word for it. It didn’t make her happy. She just didn’t feel bad about it.

And now, she was prancing through the forest and going out of her way to protect Scars?

The kids were one thing. They seemed to be just as in danger with other Scars as they were with the Infected.

What had that one woman called them? Apostates?

Abby had done enough reading to know what the word meant. She guessed they must have broken some stupid, insane rule and run off.

Or been kicked out.

Either way, from what Abby had gathered, they had gone rogue and were being hunted by their own people.

Which meant they weren’t necessarily her enemy.

But the other girl. The Prophet…

Abby didn’t know what was going on with you.

Were you going rogue too, or were your friends just dead and you needed help getting past the Infected and out of the woods?

And yeah, you had been about to kill her before. But you’d stopped as soon as there was a distraction. Took the out the second it was offered.

And then you had been the one to cut her down.

So maybe you didn’t want to kill her.

That counted for something, right?

Abby didn’t let herself think too much about how pretty you were.

How stunning your eyes looked when they met hers.

How your fingers felt, lightly grazing her bare skin for just a second, then leaving all too soon.

And how you had definitely blushed when she spoke to you.

See? She totally wasn’t thinking about any of that at all.

And she was probably delusional.

And way too distracted, spending any amount of time or energy thinking about such crazy shit while you were all actively running for your lives.

Abby was bringing up the rear of the group, and she knew a horde of Stalkers was not far behind her.

She really hoped these Scars knew where they were going.

“It’s just up here!” the girl, Yara, shouted from up ahead, leading the way to a wall of hanging vines.

The boy, Lev, pulled the vines aside, revealing an opening behind. Yara carefully but quickly maneuvered through. You waited until both she and Lev were on the other side before looking up at Abby expectantly.

There wasn’t time to argue, so Abby went next. You followed closely behind, then let the vines fall back into place, hiding your path from the Infected that pursued.

On the other side, Abby was met with the sight of several dead bodies, clearly recently slaughtered.

She couldn’t tell from this distance what had killed them. Or if they were Scar or WLF.

“Those are fresh. There another way around?” she asked, maneuvering around the corpses.

Lev spoke up. “If there were, would we be going this way?”

Okay. Fair point.

Yara pointed to a chain link fence with the torch. “Come on, Lev. Get it open.”

The kid tried to bend the steel wires up to create an opening. It didn’t budge, despite his efforts.

“Move,” Abby said. He did.

She strained as the piece of fencing gave way beneath her hands.

“Get in there, Prophet,” she said, teeth clenched.

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You quickly slid through the opening and popped up on the other side.

Finally, you were free of the suffocating forest.

The clearing was illuminated with light of the full moon.

You wandered on ahead as Lev, Yara, and the Wolf came through the fence behind you.

“Prophet?” A new voice spoke out as you turned the corner. The reverence in the person’s tone alone told you that you were dealing with a Seraphite.

You turned toward the voice to see a woman you recognized but whose name you couldn’t recall. She was large and stood tall, the side of her face bloody and a pickaxe in her grip.

She had been part of a patrolling squad in the area. You’d seen her briefly earlier in the day, with Emily, after the Wolf had been captured.

The woman saw that you were, in fact, who she thought you were, and she bowed her head out of respect.

“Are you alright, Prophet? What are you doing out here? Where is Emily?”

You were at a loss for words.

Her voice was calm and concerned now, but you knew that she would kill Lev, Yara, and the Wolf if given the chance.

“I—”

Your two friends entered the clearing behind you, drawing her eyes toward them.

“Apostates,” she hissed, and instantly her demeanor changed.

She rushed past you, ruthlessly throwing Yara to the ground and lifting Lev up by his neck.

You moved without thinking, your dagger still tightly clutched in your fingers. Again, you raised your arms above your head, just as you had done when fighting the Demons. Using all of your strength, you brought the blade down above her head, piercing her skull. The weapon was long enough that it exited through her chin.

Her body slackened and slumped to the ground. Dead.

You stared down at her, feeling the weight of what you had just done.

This wasn’t a Demon. It wasn’t an animal.

She was a living person.

And a Seraphite. One of your own people.

You were supposed to be her Prophet. Her leader. Her new hope.

She hadn’t been watching her back because she never imagined that you could betray your people like that. That you would pose a threat to her.

You continued to stare, holding your breath. You couldn’t look away.

You didn’t deserve to look away.

You felt a sob rising in your throat. Your eyes began to water.

No. You would not cry.

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Abby was the last to enter the clearing.

By then, the Scar was already holding Lev in the air, and you were already approaching from behind, lifting your dagger.

Abby watched as you killed her.

Woah.

You were good with that knife, she’d give you that.

Yara and Lev got back to their feet and watched as you stared down at the dead Scar, unmoving. Like you were frozen.

You weren’t even breathing, and you looked like you might cry.

Abby had been wondering how many WLF soldiers you killed today before you got to her. If the three she’d seen hanging when she first came to were yours.

Now, she was sure they weren’t.

Because based on your reaction, that had to be your first time.

She wasn’t usually one to be especially sensitive to the emotions of others, but when she heard you sniffle, finally taking in a ragged breath, she couldn’t help but move towards you.

Abby thought of her own first kill. How easy it was to do in the heat of the moment, but how torn up she’d been in the aftermath.

She understood that it was necessary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as hell.

She fought the urge to put a hand on your shoulder, or even rub your back soothingly. Reminded herself of who you were and who she was and all the reasons why she shouldn’t even be here right now.

Instead, she bent to retrieve your dagger from the body. She tried to hand it back to you, but you were still stuck, staring down.

“Hey. You did a good job.” She took your hand in hers, placing the handle into your palm and closing your fingers around it. She didn’t let go, allowing her hands to fully encompass yours.

Abby waited until you met her eyes. “You saved them,” she said, nodding towards Lev and Yara, who were both silently watching this unfold. “You did what you had to do.”

You drew your eyebrows together at that, like you wanted to argue. But you seemed to change your mind, ultimately just nodding your head lightly.

She let her hands drop and glanced back down at the slumped body again, her eyes catching on something.

“Wait. Is that my backpack?” Abby asked, looking more closely.

Beside her, you lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“Probably. Emily gave it to her earlier,” you said numbly.

Abby didn’t need to ask who Emily was. She could guess.

She reclaimed her belongings while you pulled yourself together.

“Are you two alright?” you asked the siblings.

“Yes, Prophet,” Lev answered, watching you closely. Abby noticed that you seemed to bristle ever so slightly at his use of your title. You didn’t say anything though.

She held her rifle in her hands again, happy to have her stuff back.

Especially the guns.

Wordlessly, the Scar kids led the way into the nearest building.

Out of habit, Abby began gathering supplies as you went along, taking ammo and medical supplies and anything else that seemed useful.

“How’s the arm?” she asked Yara, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I have it under control,” the girl insisted defensively.

“Okay…” Abby took a box of ammo from a cabinet. “Grab any supplies you find.”

“We can’t touch this stuff. It’s Old World,” Lev said, like that should’ve been obvious.

“Are you fu---? You need supplies. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She opened and then shut a drawer. “Pun fucking intended.”

“What’s a pun?” Lev asked from another room.

Abby didn’t have the energy to answer that question.

Instead she said, “I’ve never seen Scars go after Scars like that before.”

“Seraphites,” you and Lev corrected in unison as you explored different rooms of the building.

Again, she ignored. “So what the hell did you do?”

“I shaved my head,” Lev answered simply.

Abby scoffed. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

The group passed through building after dilapidated building, heading towards the coast. At least in theory.

“We’re almost there,” Yara said. “Just a little farther.”

She led the way down a steep drop-off into another run-down building. One where you wouldn’t be able to get back out the same way you went in.

“Now what?” Abby threw out, tired and frustrated.

“I’m quite confident it’s this way.”

“Quite confident?” Abby repeated incredulously.

“You don’t have to follow us,” Lev pointed out.

“You want me to leave you three out here alone?” Abby shot back.

Your response was an immediate and insistent, almost panicked, “No!”

Everyone else turned to you, surprised.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Lev offered.

Abby found the front doors, but they were held firmly closed by a metal gate on the outside.

Above the door was a large opening, too high for Abby to pull herself out of, but not too high for someone to climb through with a boost.

“If you get us through there, we’ll open the gate,” Lev said.

Abby remembered again that these were Scars she was dealing with. And like hell was she going to boost you all up to safety just so you could leave her stranded here.

“Get them out,” you said, as if you could read her mind. “I’ll stay with you.”

Lev started to protest but stopped after one shake of your head.

Abby nodded. “Okay. Come on.”

He gave you one last look before walking over to her, stepping into her open hands and pulling himself through the opening.

“Your turn.” Abby looked at Yara. “Watch that arm.” She carefully helped the injured girl maneuver up and out.

The all too familiar shriek of Infected sounded off behind you, coming from deeper in the building.

On the other side of the doors, Lev pushed at the gate. It wouldn’t budge.

“The gate’s stuck!”

“Fuck! Hurry up!” Abby looked back and forth between the door and the direction the Infected were coming from.

“We’ll look for another way!” Yara said, and the two of them disappeared from view.

Abby tried to stay calm and prepared herself for the inevitable fight.

“They’re not going to leave me,” you said, drawing her attention. You held your knife at the ready, rolling your shoulders back.

She didn’t respond, not sure if she believed you.

“They won’t,” you reiterated.

“I hope you’re right, Prophet.” She offered one of the weapons from her stash. “You ever shot a gun before?”

You shook your head but accepted the firearm anyway.

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

What Abby hoped would only be a few Infected turned out to be an entire horde. Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and even a couple Shamblers.

You were fighting them off like a champ.

Seriously. She was impressed.

You’d kept the gun, watched her rushed demonstration on how to operate it, but ultimately chose to primarily stick with the dagger.

Both of you had been fighting for several minutes as you moved through the building. No sign of the other two Scars. Abby had pretty much resigned herself to needing to find her own way out.

She cleared the room she was in, lowering her weapon to take a breather.

You were in the next room, and it sounded like you had cleared that one out too.

The only warning Abby had before she felt the blow was you urgently shouting, “Wolf!”

A Stalker that she failed to notice had her pinned to the ground, knocking her rifle from her grip in the process.

It reared its head back as Abby struggled, fighting to get it off her.

A gunshot rang out, and the Infected slumped, lifeless.

She shoved it off her and sat up to see you standing there, borrowed gun still aimed and ready.

“Good girl!” Abby exclaimed, beaming up at you from where she sat on the floor.

Wait.

What the fuck?

She meant to say “good job”…

Actually, she hadn’t meant to say anything.

You lowered the weapon. Based on the look on your face, you were just as taken aback by her use of those words as Abby was. Although, she managed to keep it from showing on her face. Mostly.

She stood quickly and fumbled through a recovery. “Good shot. That was—I mean—It was a good… A good shot. Good job.”

You smiled softly at Abby’s obvious display of nerves, walking over to where her rifle had fallen when she was attacked.

You picked it up and returned it to her.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” you said, mimicking the teasing tone Abby had used when she said those same words to you earlier that night.

She made a face. Something that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement.

“Prophet! Over here!” came Lev’s quiet voice from the next room.

You shot Abby an I told you so look before the two of you ran after the sound.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When Yara collapsed, the Wolf picked her up and carried her.

You listened as she quietly comforted your dear friend, encouraging her to keep breathing and promising to find somewhere to rest soon.

Your heart felt soft for her in that moment.

Or maybe you were just exhausted.

Lev led the group with you in the back, gun drawn and alert to the best of your current abilities.

You entered a clearing, full of enormous metal boxes and small, raised buildings. All things from the Old World that you had never seen before and didn’t have words for.

The Wolf instructed Lev to start checking the doors of all the small buildings. It took a few tries before he found one that was open.

The inside was in noticeably better shape than any other structure you’d seen on the mainland, with a few simple, fully intact pieces of furniture.

You watched as the Wolf moved through the first small room and into the second, carefully setting Yara down on the couch. She went over to the windows, checking again to make sure the four of you hadn’t been followed.

When Yara began to slowly remove her overshirt, you were quick to help, being especially careful with her injured arm.

It was swollen and bright red from her elbow down to her fingertips, visibly mangled. You had to bite back a gasp.

Lev stood on the other side of the room, a horribly worried expression on his face.

It wouldn’t be helpful for you to panic now.

“Hey,” you said to him, light and encouraging, drawing his gaze to you and away from his hurt older sister. “It just needs to be set. Okay?”

You turned your eyes to the Wolf who was still hovering by the window. “You know how to do that?”

The face she made confirmed what you already knew. Yara needed much more than just for the arm to be set.

Still, the Wolf walked over, instructing Lev to cut the discarded overshirt into strips and telling Yara to lean back.

You helped her, kneeling on the floor by the side of the couch where her head lay, ready to assist in any way you could.

“I’m gonna move it, okay?” said the Wolf.

“Okay.”

They were both speaking so softly.

“You ready?” she asked.

Yara nodded, reaching her uninjured hand out for one of yours. You held it, letting her squeeze as tightly as she needed to.

The crunching noise the arm made as it was set nearly made you sick.

Yara let out a series of pained noises, panting and grunting. You used your free hand to gently brush the loose strands of her hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears.

You whispered that the worst was over, and that she would be okay now.

You didn’t know if that was true, but you hoped it comforted her a little.

The Wolf broke a leg off a wooden chair, took the newly cut strips of fabric that Lev offered, and went to work bracing the newly-set arm, using the chair leg as a splint.

Yara watched the Wolf’s face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The Wolf secured the last piece of cloth before she answered, meeting Yara’s gaze.

“Abby,” she said.

She stood, looking to Lev and then to you.

“I should go,” the Wolf—Abby—said.

You stood too, to walk her out.

Lev quickly filled in the space that you left, kneeling in the same spot and taking Yara’s waiting hand in his.

Abby grabbed her backpack and followed you into the first room, toward the door.

You paused, turning to face her.

“Are you—” You wanted to ask where she was going. What she would do next. Really, if you were being honest, you didn’t want her to go at all.

But you didn’t have the right to ask for any of those things, so instead you went with, “Are you okay?”

You gestured to your neck, meaning to indicate the dark, noose-shaped bruises that circled her own throat.

It felt like so long ago that she’d been hanging in front of you, unfortunate to find herself on the wrong end of your dagger. But, realistically, only a couple of hours had gone by.

She cleared her throat, her own fingers instinctively ghosting over the marks.

“Oh umm… Yeah. It’ll be fine.” She waited a beat before adding, “Thanks for cutting me down.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, considering it was technically your fault she needed to be cut down in the first place.

You settled on a nod and a tight smile.

She turned to go, twisting the doorhandle and stepping back out into the rain.

Before you could close the door behind her, she looked back and said, “This area gets a lot of traffic. Whatever shape she’s in…” Abby leaned closer, hand on the door frame, “You need to get out of here by tomorrow.”

Again, you nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer before she turned and walked down the steps.

You shut and locked the door.

----------------------------------------------------------------

As Abby walked away from the office trailer, she couldn’t help the images that came to mind.

She kept envisioning you and Lev and Yara, dead.

Hanged and gutted by the Scars.

Or shot by the WLF.

Or ripped to shreds by Infected.

She had real responsibilities. A friend to look for. A whole community counting on her.

She had a war to get back to.

But if she left now, would she always wonder about what happened to you?

The urge to stay near you—to protect you—was so overwhelming. She didn’t know where it was coming from or what she should do with it.

You were not safe, but she knew you were much safer with her.

Isaac had warned her that the first Scar Prophet had been able to make even the most dedicated soldiers turn on a dime. He said that with just a few carefully chosen words, she could make a person question where their loyalties lied.

It had seemed so ridiculous just that morning, but now you were doing the same thing to Abby.

You were in her head.

But this didn’t feel like manipulation.

She didn’t know what it was that drew her to you, but it felt real. Natural. And entirely unintentional.

Or maybe she was reading you all wrong, and you really were a master manipulator.

Abby needed to make a decision. Because she was currently standing still in the pouring rain with the trailer still in view.

She chose to trust her gut.

And her gut was telling her to turn around. To stay with you.

Owen would have to wait.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Thank you to anyone who’s read all three chapters of this! The fact that literally anyone has is absolutely bonkers to me. I’ve already learned so much about myself as a writer since I started writing fics a couple weeks ago. For example, this week I learned that I DO NOT enjoy writing fight scenes… Unfortunately it was thoroughly unavoidable for this chapter. Regardless, I really hope it was interesting to read, and I’m looking forward to fleshing out the relationship between Abby and my reader more and more!

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

[phoenixlionme]

NOTE: In case anyone is wondering, I added the gif below the video because the video cut off the moment where Charlie pulls Vaggie closer and I wanted it in.

Now, I am going to ramble on in various bulllet points why I love this scene, from what I've notice and what other people have noticed in this reprise as well. Be prepared for a long post. And enjoy.

Vaggie's soft "Charlie?" when she sees her girlfriend upset. And Charlie being honest about her fears of losing instead of putting on a smile and brave face like she did earlier in the episode.

Vaggie's starting off the reprise by reminding Charlie of all the good she's done and all of the people she's helped by creating the Hotel.

When Vaggie starts singing, Charlie still has a forlorn expression on her face but immediately smiles when Vaggie touches her cheek; and unlike her big and implicitly forced smiles earlier in the episode, it's a small smile that shows she's still scared but deeply appreciates her girlfriend's comfort. And when Vaggie touches her cheek, Charlie goes to touch the former's wrist.

Vaggie grabbing Charlie's hand and guiding her from the dark to the light. Symbolism, anyone?

Possibly my favorite line from Vaggie in the song - "And in the end, if it's only me you saved" - Vaggie isn't a sinner but a fallen Exorcist Angel that Charlie found and rescued from near death; so, she doesn't need to be redeemed in a literal sense. But, here? Vaggie is telling Charlie that even if everything goes wrong, that even if they don't know that their plan to redeem Sinners will work, that whatever happens, Charlie must know ONE thing - the Princess saved the Soldier not only from death but also saved her soul. Vaggie was cast out by Lute and Adam for showing mercy but then rescued by the Princess of Hell who's all about mercy and forgiveness. Vaggie is telling Charlie that the latter helped her own redemption.

Charlie's smile going from a small, tired small to an even bigger, love-filled one. Vaggie's emotional comfort really helped calm Charlie's fears.

Another line from the couple that I really love, "There's something that I've been dying to say" - For the past 6 months, the duo have been under enormous stress from the upcoming 2nd extermination, helping to redeem Sinners, being mocked from all corners, and personal issues (i.e., Charlie hurt and angry over Vaggie's secrecy). It's been fast-paced and chaotic, so much they haven't been given a moment to really just be a couple. And the next day, they have to face off against Heaven's Army and might not make it. But in this quiet moment, Charlie and Vaggie are able to fully express their love for one another for the first time in a long time. No interruptions, no business, just them. And honestly, I LOVE the line so much.

Just the look of peace and vulnerability from Charlie when Vaggie gently strokes the former's hair and cheek. The Princess has been so stressed and scared but having the love of her life be by her is a truly calming presence.

The happy sighs they both make after they kiss.

Charlie pulling Vaggie closer while they are kissing.

Possible wedding foreshadowing. That's it. I predict marriage given how they are positioned. And I hope I am right.

They definitely had sex after this. I mean, you can hear them sigh happily once they kiss, Charlie pulls her closer, and they're going into battle the next day.

French version of the song translates, “More than anything” to “Tu es tout pour moi” which directly translates to “You are everything for me” or “You are my everything”.

Again in the French version, “Need you to know I love you more than anything” becomes “Je t’aime par-dessus tout et je ne veux que toi” which translates to “I love you above all and I only want you”.

In the Italian version, the line is translated to, "Whatever happens, just know that/You are my everything".

#vivziepop #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #otp #otp analysis #otp appreciation #myotps #songs #singer #music #video

[sunkiss3dlily]

to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part two | joel miller x reader

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2611

Summary: While waiting for Joel to recover, he takes a turn for the worst, and you find yourself doing whatever you can to keep him with you and Ellie.

Note(s): I was asked to do a second part of this fic where the reader gets hurt and Joel goes crazy over it, but it was getting a bit long so I've split it into three parts, so this is the first and the second will be up pretty soon! This deviates from the show/game in terms of the David situation (Ellie doesn't get hurt), but I hope you still enjoy! I feel like this idea has been done a few times so I hope it's not too repetitive!! Also I am not medically inclined in the slightest so if the details are wrong for anything, please just go with it hahaha. As always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

He made it through the first night, then the next, and the one after that.

It was almost unbelievable. While you kept a brave face for Ellie, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, the fact that Joel was still there with you felt almost too good to be true—not that you were complaining, not one bit.

Night after night, you would lie beside him, simply watching him. When Ellie succumbed to fitful bouts of sleep, you made sure to keep his coat tucked under his chin, preserving his warmth as he lay unconscious on the mattress. With your flashlight aimed at his torso, you checked for any signs of movement, or rather, the ceasing of it, until you eventually succumbed to sleeping yourself. After the flashlight inevitably died after the second night, you resorted to placing a delicate hand on his chest, under his coat, feeling for the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.

Most of your conversations with him—conversations that felt more like monologues—happened when Ellie was either asleep or out collecting snow for Callus. Initially, it was to offer comfort during those brief moments of consciousness—the occasional groan of pain or the utterance of your name. Eventually, when he fell completely unconscious, talking to him became a source of comfort purely for yourself.

You'd ramble on about just about anything that came to mind, mindful of your volume to avoid waking or alerting Ellie. It began with small talk and general comments about how cold it was and how you hoped he was warm enough. To pass the time, you'd share some of the less corny jokes from Ellie's pun book, and then you began telling him about your life before the outbreak: your family, your occupation, and your hobbies. For some reason, it all spilled out, and there ended up being more words spoken between you than before he was injured. For whatever reason, whether that was because you did not have his hardened expression aimed at you while you spoke for once, you found it really easy to open up to him, and you could only hope that he could hear you somehow and that he'd know you and Ellie were still there, waiting for him.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how nurses felt before the outbreak. Did they talk to their comatose patients, hoping their voice was enough to guide them back to the land of the living, to the ones they loved?

You hoped that was the case for Joel, even if you couldn't fathom being a reason for him to live, no matter how desperately you needed him.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

On the fourth day, sunlight streamed through the overhead windows, gently nudging you awake. Your forehead was pressed against Joel's coat, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling him breathe. As you glanced up, you noticed his head leaning towards yours, a mix of pain and contentment etched on his typically stoic face. A faint smile crossed your lips at the first sight of his subtle reaction.

With a sigh of relief, you slowly sat up, withdrawing your hand from his chest.

On the other side of Joel, Ellie was still fast asleep, nestled as close to him as possible on the mattress. A frown creased your brow as realisation dawned upon you: none of you had eaten properly in days, rationing the minimal scraps you had, just in case Joel woke up and, undoubtedly, felt hunger. The truth was, surviving purely on those scraps and melted snow alone wouldn't last much longer.

Letting out a small sigh, you approached Ellie, kneeling beside her and softly calling her name before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to wake her. "Ellie? Hey, Ellie?"

She woke with a start, glancing around in momentary disorientation before her eyes met yours. Her gaze quickly shifted to Joel. "Is he okay?"

You hummed, "He's doing as well as he can right now. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," she murmured, laying back down and looking as exhausted as you felt.

You reached for your bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a piece of jerky that looked to have seen better days. You let out a small sigh and held it out for Ellie, who narrowed her eyes at you and took it before breaking it in half and holding one piece out for you.

"I'm good," you assured her with a wave of your hand, and you watched as Ellie reluctantly lowered her arm after a few moments. Instead, she shuffled closer to the mattress and laid the jerky on top of Joel's coat, which made you smile slightly.

Ellie continued chewing quietly for a moment before raising her hand and laying the back of it on Joel's forehead. "Holy fuck. He's like a furnace."

You were no doctor, but you were sure that just having a coat draped over him wouldn't raise his temperature that much, especially in the blistering cold of winter. You frowned, placing your own hand on his forehead and retracting it almost instantly. Sweat was forming at his brow, and using your very little medical knowledge from the medical dramas you used to consume before the outbreak, you realised he had a fever.

With quick speed, you lifted the coat off his lower stomach, lifted his shirt, and examined the wound that you had the displeasure of stitching up all those days ago, realising almost immediately that something looked off. The skin around it was scorched red, swollen, and oozing pus, something that you were unable to see last night with no flashlight.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, knowing it was infected and realising that it was more than likely caused by the bacteria-infested needle you had used so hastily to patch him up.

Ellie sat up, watching you with concern. "What? What is it?"

"The wound is infected," you sighed, sitting back on your heels and trying to think of the best course of action. "Okay, I'm going to search the other houses to see if any of them have any sort of antibiotic."

Ellie nodded, sitting up. "Okay, let's go."

You shook your head. "I go. You stay here, with Joel."'

Her mouth opened, her stubborn attitude ready to argue with you, but you simply shook your head once more. "Someone has to watch him, Ellie. If he wakes up and needs help and no one's here, he'll..." You trail off, and Ellie's fight seems to wane considerably at the sight of your sadness. You clear your throat and reach towards the weapon lying beside the staircase. "Take Joel's rifle. Anything goes south down here; you take care of it, alright?"

She takes it, nodding, her eyes falling to the slow rise of Joel's chest as she asks, "What if you don't come back?"

You were speechless for a moment; for some reason, you didn't even consider that a possibility. You were only going to search some of the other houses, not even going too far, but there was still the possibility that the raiders were still hanging around waiting for you all. That, or infected.

"I will," is your simple response.

It's not enough for Ellie. "You don't know that."

"I have to," you state, and she looks up at you. "I have to come back, Ellie. I took this job for a reason, and... I'm not leaving you behind."

Your eyes flitter to Joel's unconscious form.

"Either of you."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚, '"Where the hell did you go?"

The search for medicine in the abandoned houses near the garage where you, Ellie and Joel had taken refuge proved utterly futile. Exiting each house empty-handed drained the last remnants of optimism from your body.

However, a glimmer of determination emerged when you found yourself tailgating a white rabbit through a clearing into the snowy woods between two houses. With the smallest spark of fight left in you, you raised your rifle and focused on at least securing a substantial meal for yourself and Ellie today.

Yet, as the woods were entirely blanketed in snow, your search was already compromised. Nevertheless, you kept your feet moving, aware that any pause could cause your knees to buckle, making it a struggle to find the strength to stand again.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, the chill blistering your skin as you narrowed your eyes in search of the elusive creature. "Where the hell did you go?"

Taking a few more steps, you heard the familiar squeaking resume as you approached a log. The rabbit seemed to have burrowed itself in the snow behind it in an attempt to protect itself, and you did your best to move quietly to avoid startling it. Fate, however, had other plans. A few twigs snapped in the near distance, and the creature bolted once more.

Turning your head to the source of the noise, your blood ran cold. Two men were facing you, their rifles prominent in their hands, though not raised. Their eyes were fixed on you as they took a step forward, the shorter one leading the taller.

Although you couldn't recognise them as the raiders who attacked you, Joel, and Ellie days ago, you weren't naive. You understood the dangers posed by any desperate man.

In an instant, you dove behind a tree, raising your rifle and aiming it towards them, cautiously glancing out to keep an eye on their movements. "Don't come any closer."

From the shadows, the shorter man with short, ginger hair, barely visible at the top of his head, raised a hand to halt his friend. "Easy, there; I'm sure we can all work this out. We aren't here to hurt you; quite the opposite, actually."

"I don't care what you're here for; walk away or I shoot," you called, squeezing the rifle in your hand, finding it a comfort. You'd feel much more reassured with Joel there, but you're sorely reminded of your predicament. "And I never miss."

Silence followed your warning, and you cautiously looked out, seeing them both still standing there. The shorter man seemed more relaxed than the taller one. He had his hands raised in surrender, and his gun had been dropped to the snow-covered ground. The taller man, wearing a beanie, still held his gun, but in a loose grip.

"Just...just hear me out for a second," the shorter man began, nodding at you in an attempt to calm you. He noticed your attention focused on his friend's gun and turned his head towards him while keeping most of his body facing you. "James, drop the gun."

James eyed the shorter man wearily, but ultimately he did as he was told. Your shoulders loosened considerably, though you kept your gun raised in warning, your finger resting on the trigger.

The shorter man looked back at you, his lips quirking slightly at the edges in a way that unsettled you. "See? We truly aren't here to cause you any harm. My name is David, and this is my friend, James."

You bit back a snarky comment about not giving a damn, and feeling assured enough that you had the upper hand now, being the only one holding your weapon, you stepped out from behind the tree. David's eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in, but a smile settled on his lips soon after.

"You out here all alone?"

You visibly stiffened, tensing your finger on the trigger, and David laughed a little as he spoke. "Easy, now. Just having a conversation is all. You're looking a bit worse for wear. You been out here long?"

"A few hours," you responded honestly, before pausing just a fraction too long. "My whole group has. In fact, they should be on their way back here right now."

David quirked his eyebrow, sounding disbelieving as he asked, "How many of you are there?"

"Enough." You responded, glaring at him, but this only caused him to smile unnervingly towards you again.

"So you're travelling with a big group, huh? Yeah, me and James come from a big group too." He looked towards his friend and nodded. "Yeah, we have a settlement a couple miles from here. Nothing too fancy, just a little village, but it's safe—you'd have a roof over your head, some extra clothes on your back, and new boots if you needed them. You could come and check it out to see if it's good enough for you and your friends; it would be nice to see some fresh faces."

You narrowed your eyes at his offer. "Why aren't you there right now?"

David paused. "I'm sure you know all too well how quickly food runs out in big groups like ours. I guess that's why you were chasing that little bunny so carefully. Yeah, we know the feeling. The desperation. It's hard, right? Well, truth be told, we've been struggling with keeping everyone comfortably fed over this harsh winter, but James has been scouting this big buck for a couple of days, and we've come to bring it back to our people."

You nodded slowly, your stomach twisting at the thought of having something big enough to feed you, Joel, and Ellie comfortably. You could kill them both and go looking for it, but then you'd know you'd truly lost your humanity; you were not yet depraved. "Maybe you should focus on keeping your own people safe before trying to recruit new ones."

"You could help us." David suggested, and you didn't miss the way James looked at him. "As you said, you never miss a shot. James and I are pretty rusty ourselves. But if you helped us, we'd be able to feed our people and yours, or you could take half the buck for yourselves if you truly don't want to give us a chance. Fair trade."

Nerves bubbled within your stomach, and you cleared your throat, tilting your head. "What's to say you won't shoot me dead the second we find it?"

"That wouldn't be very smart, would it?" He smiled. "Not when your group will be showing up soon; James and I'd be outnumbered in seconds."

You breathed out nervously, not knowing what to do and knowing, damn well, no one was coming for you. "Yeah, you would."

David laughed. "So, we have a deal?"

"Back at your village, do you have medicine?" You found yourself asking suddenly, noticing the way James' eyes widened partially, but David remained cool. "For infections and such?"

David hummed. "We do. Someone hurt?"

You nodded, saying nothing else about it.

"Well, then," David sighed. "Tell you what, how about this? James, you head back home and speak to Howard. Tell him you need two bottles of penicillin and a syringe."

James looked at David with an expression of what looked to be confusion and unsureness.

"This isn't code, James. Do as I said," David continued before he turned to you. "You and I will keep hunting for this buck while James gets that medicine for you; then, when he gets back, you can decide whether you want to follow us or not, alright?"

You aimed your rifle towards James as he looked back at you.

"That works." You watched as James leaned to reach for his rifle and fired a warning shot beside his feet, sending the snow flying. "Leave that there. You can find it when I'm gone."

"Listen to the lady, James," David instructed, and James straightened back up, taking a few steps back until he began running through the woods back towards the clearing that you had previously come through yourself.

David met your gaze once more, smiling softly. "Well, let's go find that buck."

©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x you

[yanderes-galore]

yandere ghostface (billy pls! if you want, you could also/or do stu) and scared darling. shes friends with with him, best friends even. suddenly murders and they couldnt be more scared, calling him up with broken sobs and apologies for bothering him so late but you’re just.. so scared. maybe you inv him over or whatever u wanna write 😁 (its friday the 13 >> even if its late, still gotta rq my fave!)

You got it! Sorry for the long wait :( Excited to write a Slasher again!

Anxiety

Yandere! Billy Loomis Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Yandere behavior, Obsession, Anxiety, Paranoia, Death, Graphic descriptions of murder/death, Blood mention, Possessive behavior, Forced kissing, Forced relationship, Manipulation, Sadism.

Billy Loomis, someone you called a best friend. One who was brave, flirtatious, and someone you felt could protect you. Even if you were just best friends... you felt close to him.

Your 'relationship' was tame for the longest time. Then the murders started happening. Ones that terrified you to your core.

You heard how they all started. A phone call at night, you're asked a question, getting it right or wrong kills you....

Upon hearing the news you decided to not go to school anymore. Instead you had someone pick up your school work and take it to your home until you felt it safe to go outside. Something Billy, your dearest friend, didn't seem to enjoy.

"I never see you at school anymore... you really that scared?"

You feel embarrassed to admit to him that you are that scared. In response he pouts and does his best to comfort you. Sure, he can be insensitive at times, but he does what he can to help you.

You were too scared to notice your friend acting weird. He was at your house frequently. Often being a bit too touchy to be comforting.

Yet he claims he does it in good heart.

You think your anxiety hits its peak when you hear about more morbid news.

Recently, your other friends had become victims to this killer going around. Entrails scattered along the ground, throats bubbling blood out from their wounds. Upon hearing the news, you couldn't take it.

Late at night you dash to your phone, dialing the number of Billy. The one person you felt you could trust.

A bit too quickly, Billy picks up. His 'Hello' sounds tired until he hears your choked sobs. By then he sounds more awake.

"(Y/N)? What's up?"

"Billy, I'm so damn scared..."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The news... haven't you seen it? There were more murders. All of... my friends-"

You take a moment to gulp down a sob.

"Do you think the killer will come after me next?"

Billy goes silent for a moment before answering in a soft tone.

"No... I don't think they will. Did you want me to come over? I'll help make it all better."

"That'd be great, thank you."

You then hang up the phone and sit on your couch. Anxious thoughts eat away within you for what feels like hours until you hear a knock at the door.

"(Y/N), I'm here. Let me in, okay?"

You rush to the door and throw it open, lunging at your friend with a shiver. Billy recoiled but hugs back before nudging you back into your house.

"Poor thing... you're really scared, aren't you?"

You nod, eyes watering as tears drip down your cheeks. Billy rubs away your tears in a comforting manner to calm you down. Once you calm a little more you then sit on the couch beside him.

"Of course I am. I've been scared since the first murder. Now... my friends are all dead-"

You hiccup, Billy taking your hands in his.

"But you still have me...!"

You look at him with clouded vision, sniffing softly.

"I do now. Yet what if you die like them? Then I'll be alone... I can't trust anyone to make new friends."

"You don't need to make new friends."

Billy's voice turns stern, gaze hardening for just a moment. You look at him with concern. Was he also on edge?

"Billy, what-"

"In fact, I wasn't very fond of those previous friends you had."

You narrow your eyes, fear subsiding momentarily.

"Oh, cut it out! Now's not the time to-"

"I had to tell you at some point. You didn't seem to get it. I didn't like any of them. Don't even get me started on that one who'd bring you your work when you left school. I would've loved to do that for you."

You're in shock at Billy's rant. You try to pull your hands away, but Billy pulls them back.

"You're so cute when scared... it's not like you can run when you've already let me in, anyway."

You give a scared and confused expression before realization hits you. Shock then paints itself upon your face, it couldn't be...

He did it, didn't he?

"I had to ask Stu to help, but we both enjoyed it. We killed them and I had so much FUN scrambling their guts and slashing their throats."

A grin is on his face at your mortified expression. Like a deer in headlights... you were frozen. Completely speechless at his sins.

"But now? Now, I have you. All alone, clinging to me for comfort because... let's face it?"

Your pushed down on the couch, the murderer crawling over you and pining you down.

"I'm all you have now. You won't need any other person, because you have me. Your new psychotic, yet adoring, boyfriend."

A kiss is then forced upon your lips before he pulls away.

"Aren't I right, baby?"

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere scream #yandere ghostface #yandere billy loomis

[isa-ghost]

Phil and bagi hcs?

YOU HAVE JUST ENABLED A MONSTER.

I AM SO ABNORMAL ABOUT THESE TWO.

Also these will apply to AMFMN!! Because SURPRISE, if no one has checked the fic tags, her name is listed as a main character. ;) She'll be arriving in Chapter 6!! :D

I cannot fucking WAIT to expand upon their dynamic, which is funny because by the time Bagi shows up, Phil is possessed so it won't be exploration through direct interactions until the recovery period waaay later in the fic. Nonetheless it'll be hype! :D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Phil is a member of the "Bagi can do whatever she wants forever" club. He supports her rights and wrongs and fully believes she could kick his ass no matter how unbalanced of a fight it'd be in his favor (disclaimer I don't actually know Bagi's exact pvp skill level 🤔)

Bagi is a member of the "God I want Phil to take me on a flight some day, I am so sad his wings are fucked up" club. (She would probably be terrified /pos)

I don't know what it is about their friendship but I feel like Bagi is so much more attuned to the way Phil thinks than the average islander. I guess I'd say it's because of how perceptive she is in general, especially with how she's a detective? Whatever it is, Bagi just has this talent for reading Phil like a damn book. And she won't hesitate to call him on his bullshit either. She's much like Fit in that regard. Crow man can't hide SHIT

Like fr if Phil ever gave Bagi reason to be concerned the first thing she'd do is start cornering those closest to him and either ask what's up or be like "hey Phil's on some shit rn, we gotta go force him to confess whatever stupid shit he's shouldering on his own and bottling up"

Phil has definitely been whacked with the frying pan for not venting and acting like he has to brave the horrors alone btw. Bagi's the type of friend that'll kick your fucking ass if you're not self-caring or being mean to yourself. (I am projecting LMAO)

Bagi isn't as Holy Shit We Could Die Any Second about things as Phil, but they're both very protective people, which can manifest in very volatile ways when they're hurt or angered by something (ie: Feds). I would not want to experience their individual wraths simultaneously.

Bagi is one of the top people Phil shows his gift giving love language to. Be it resources she needs, pictures he's taken of her/Em/Tina or of weird island shit, the means to complete cookie tasks, etc. She's one of the first in mind.

GOD Phil wants her to teach him how to wield a frying pan so badly. He's an excellent swordsman and bowman, but PAN?? The enjoyment he'd get out of it would be infinite, he'd love to be kicking ass while getting a laugh out of it bc pan go BONG when it hits a motherfucker.

If one needs something the other says yes no hesitation. They might ask each other a couple questions, but as soon as they have 100% clarity, they trust each other with the rest and know that if something goes wrong, whoever is present at the time will unleash hell on the person or monster that caused it.

I've somewhat already hinted at it but GOD the mutual admiration they have for each other!! Their wits and way with words, their natural sense of leadership, their determination to defend what they believe in, what they think is right, and the people they love, their specific expertise, the list goes on. They just think the other is so fucking cool and brilliant.

Tbh I think in the right circumstances they'd teach each other some lowkey fucked up tricks they have up their sleeves. Like Bagi giving Phil insight on manipulating people into giving the answers you're looking for by asking the right carefully worded questions, or Phil teaching Bagi the best spots to hit/hurt a person/mob to really do some damage just purely as a "hey if you ever find yourself in a Situation, here's a tip" thing

I don't know how better to show this without explicitly saying it: These two are not the other's fucking caretaker. Phil is not Bagi's father figure and Bagi is not Phil's mother figure. Yes, they can scold each other when the other is doing something dumb (cough, 7 hcs ago, cough). Friends do that. They support each other and call each other on their bs. That is not parenting, that's being a good friend. And they are to each other.

On that note, it hasn't come up too much yet but when shit sucks (like when the eggs were lost or lost lives), they're good at distracting each other. But like without halting the process of dealing with their emotions. If they're sad, they'll be sad together, but they're good at picking the right conversation topics to lighten the mood. If they're mad, they'll be mad together, and they'll plan what to do about it with each other.

I think I've sorta demonstrated it well enough in a couple of these hcs already but AUGH, they're just. So on the same page with each other almost all the time. And when they aren't, they're so good at giving each other perspectives they didn't think of before. Which, I don't mean to compare Bagi to her brother here, but is also how Phil and Cellbit can be with each other too; though they've somewhat fallen out of that sync post-Purgatory. The way the Mystery Siblings are so on the same wavelength as Phil makes me so *slams fist on desk*

Phil is normally a very Just Vibin' kinda guy but Bagi can get him into some really deep intellectual conversations sometimes and it's so 🍿🍿🍿 to watch

#qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qsmp bagi #oibagi #q!bagi #qphil headcanons #AMFMN things

[limerenceheart]

Kafka and Blade sharing a darling seems either: tug of war or everything goes wrong for darling tm

hello! i wrote this as a drabble and thank you for requesting kafka! <3

trigger warnings - breech of privacy, implied physical violence and patrionising.

the stellaron hunters.

you weren't just dealing with just one but two, how lucky.

"darling, it's a privilege to have mine and bladie's attention."

the remark that kafka made one day out of the blue as she forced you to sit on her lap at a booth in a cafe. such an abrupt and absurd statement till a lightbulb went off with the realisation that she somehow managed to find your hidden journal.

a breach of privacy. if only they understood the meaning of that word. kafka laughed when you mentioned the word upon her walking into you on showering along with the water running to mask your tears.

you never dare mentioned that word to her counterpart though. blade. at first, you thought that they must share a history together since you couldn't comprehend the idea that kafka was that daring enough to call him by a nickname.

bladie, such a patronising nickname. you wanted to hurl though when kafka gave you one, the only woman that made you thought all women are trash.

you wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't met her. if blade asked you for directions, you would run away out of fright but kafka may been alluring but not intimidating enough to be a threat. so you helped her where she took advantage of that. the spiral downfall of your soul being sold to the devil.

so you much rather prefer blade, he wasn't the bitch that threw you into this hellhole and sure, he only added fire to the oil by joining in with kafka's charade but at least, he treated you like an adult.

something that kafka never did, the woman microscope all your actions where you felt like she became your shadow or rather say her shadow. the most piss taking thing is that she always kept you in the dark along with the countless teasing.

at least, blade would call you by your name. with each passing day, kafka seem more like a guardian whereas blade was just that random neighbour, you would only say hi to.

you rather deal with the neighbour so blade sitting atop your bed wasn't enough to ignite fear but still strong enough to put you on edge.

his partner have disappeared to deal with urgent business so blade was looking after you today. the only unsettling thing about blade is that he never listen to kafka.

so he was a wildcard.

but you did not care.

anyone but kafka.

so when blade prompted you to come sit next to him by patting the empty space next to him, you immediately obeyed but you weren't that daring enough to break the silence so you just stared at your hands in your lap.

"i'm going to help you escape."

your head snapped up to see blade's stonic face staring at you with a deadly glare.

the bastard was incredibly hard to read.

was this a test of loyalty? or did blade actually care?

the man certainly was not perfect either, recalling the one time he tugged on your hair for such a minor thing but you couldn't remember what since his action terrified you that much.

if kafka didn't come along, there would been more than one bruise. remembering that, you looked back into your lap and began twirling your fingers.

"blade, i am happy here so no."

when he grabbed your hand to take you outside of the house to get something to eat, everything clicked.

kafka would always do that when you did something that she liked.

it was a test.

you passed and now blade was rewarding you like a pet.

but your pride wasn't that brave enough to imagine the outcome if you took up his offer.

#honkai star rail #hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #blade #kafka #yandere kafka #yandere blade #blade x reader #kafka x reader #yandere blade x reader #yandere kafka x reader #kafka x reaer #hsr x reader