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love-toxin · 2 months

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jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

#sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyun su x reader #hyun su x reader #gn reader #ellie writes #3k

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canislupus-exe · 2 years

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Hours on the Clock | eddie munson

>>gif credit to @/veivir-morte<<

SPOILER FREE

fandom | Stanger Things

character | Eddie Munson

reader | (Henderson) he/him (she ver.)(they ver.)

requested | @/theimaginationgotmegood on tumblr

warnings | mild angst with a happy ending

word count | 3,075

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | Could I request a Henderson reader x Eddie or Steve imagine where he helps him study/apply for something cuz Dustin begged him to and the reader has pretty tensed neck/shoulders and eddie massages it for him. After that they become friends and he keeps on easing his pain, like whenever they are together (cuz he‘s the kid‘s ride) and it‘s just become normal for everyone. But the reader understands a joke from him wrong and becomes insecure, pushes him away until he confronts him and then just fluff maybe? This would be amazing!

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

You hummed along to the radio playing faintly in the background. Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your little brother and his friends. You couldn't even remember the number of times you told him not to mess around after class so you weren’t waiting in the heat, but every day, without fail, you left long after the final bell rang.

Today was one of those days. Most cars had left the lot and you were stuck there, leaning against the door with only your music to signify how much time had passed. The first side of your cassette had played through and you were halfway through the second. You were gonna rip him a new one.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you could see your little brother rushing out of the front doors with his best friends in tow. You crossed your arms and glared at him, making sure he knew you were pissed. He grimaced once he was close enough.

“Sorry sorry sorry! I know we’re late but it was an emergency!” He pleaded his case. You rolled your eyes and opened the door, getting in and swapping out the cassette so you didn’t have to do it while you were driving.

“Get in before I leave all of you to take the bus home.” You said. The three teenage boys scrambled to get in the car, Dustin taking shotgun while Mike and Lucas got in the back. Once everyone was buckled in, you started the engine and pulled out of the school's parking lot.

“So please enlighten me on what was so important that you had me waiting out here for…” You paused to check your watch. “47 minutes.”

“We were talking with Eddie about the hellfire club,” Dustin replied. You raised your eyebrows.

“I thought hellfire was on Fridays.” You said. Dustin sighed and dropped his head against the headrest.

“Yeah well, there might not be any hellfire if Eddie doesn’t bring up his English grade. The stupid principal is threatening to shut down the whole club if he doesn’t get his act together.” Dustin said. You could hear how upset he was by the influx of his words. You frowned, knowing how much this club meant to him.

“(Y/n), aren’t you in English honors?” Mike asked. Your eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror so you could see his face.

“Yes?” You questioned. Dustin looked over his shoulder at Mike and then back at you.

“And you tutor on the side for money!” He exclaimed. You sighed, seeing exactly where he was going with this.

“I tutor freshmen on the side for money so they're better prepared for their classes, not seniors who flunked two years in a row.” You replied. Lucas laughed.

“He’s got you there Dustin.”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing Lucas. We’re all screwed if Eddie isn’t at a D by the end of the month.” He said, whipping his head to glare at his friend, but he quickly turned back to you.

“(Y/n), please. I’ll do anything. Consider all your chores for the next month done, alright?” He pleaded. You raised your eyebrows and glanced at him from the side of your eyes.

“Seriously? It’s that important that I tutor this guy?” You ask. Dustin nodded feverishly.

“Yes.” He deadpanned. You sighed.

“Alright. I’ll fit him into my schedule. But you better hold up your end of the deal.” You said as you flicked his hat downward. He smiled.

“I will, I promise. And thank you.”

>><<

You sighed and checked your watch, wondering how long you’d have to wait out here for the door to be opened. You lift your fist, knuckles centimeters away, ready to knock for the fourth time when it swings open. You backed up, slightly startled from how quickly it happened.

“Your Henderson’s brother, right?” A man with long hair asked. Eddie Munson. You’d seen him around school but never opted to talk to him.

“In the flesh.” You replied. He stepped out of the frame so you could walk in, to which you hesitantly did so.

“We can sit here. Thought it’d be less awkward than sitting on my bed.” He said with a laugh. You nodded and did as he told you, opening your backpack and gathering all the materials you needed. He pulled the second chair out and leaned his elbow on the table, watching your every move. You glanced up at him tentatively.

“Um… Dustin tells me your failing-“

“Horribly. Crashing and burning in fact. Which is where you come in Henderson-“

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).” You reply. He smiles.

“(Y/n) Henderson. Pleasure. As I was saying, I’m in dire need of assistance. In fact, the hellfire club depends on it.”

“Way to put the pressure on.” You said sarcastically as you stretched out your arms and rolled your head. You groaned and gently massaged your neck, looking down at the sheets of paper spread out on the table. You sighed and shuffled through them, finding it hard to concentrate with the horrid knot in your muscles.

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. You looked up at him and gave a halfhearted laugh.

“Yeah sorry. It’s… It’s nothing.” You reply, waving him off. You doubted he wanted to listen to you talk about your problems.

“No no please, enlighten me. I mean, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together so we might as well share our deepest darkest secrets.” He said as he leaned his chin on the palm of his hand. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he spoke. It was odd but… charming.

“Well, it’s certainly no deep dark secret. I’ve just been really tense lately. Dustin and his friends all rely on me for rides everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I drop them all off at their houses after school, I take them to the arcade, I drive them all to each other’s houses. I’m basically a professional chauffeur getting paid in annoyance by my brother. Don’t get me wrong, I love Dustin but I spend way too much time with him. Hell, I’ve never even picked up the DnD handbook and I probably know enough to DM a campaign on my own.” Once you started talking everything just seemed to pour out. You had no idea how badly you needed to get this off your chest.

“And how does that make you feel?” He said, staring at you intently, which only made you laugh harder.

“Oh come on. I pour my heart out to you and you say that. What a dick.” You reply. He smiles.

“You’re right, I do apologize my lord. However could a mere court jester such as myself make it up to the likes of you?” He asked. You snickered, but soon after felt another twinge of pain shoot down your neck and across your shoulders. You groaned again, pressing your fingers into the places it felt the tightest.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a masseuse as well as a jester, would you?” You asked, running with whatever bit he had going. He shrugged.

“I dabble.” He replied. You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him.

“You’re serious?”

“These fingers aren’t just good for playing guitar you know. Let me give it a shot.” He said, wiggling his fingers at you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair.

“I-I mean if you want to give it a go, by all means.” You replied. You couldn’t help but ask yourself how you managed to get here.

He seemed to gladly take the invitation, standing up from his chair and walking behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing his palms into your tensed muscles. He repeated the motions several times before moving on to your neck. His fingertips were calloused from what you could only assume was years of playing guitar, but still shocking gentle. And even more shockingly, they were relaxing you. He was working through all the knots with such care that you felt like you were melting into his hands.

He continued to massage you for a few more minutes, alternating between your shoulders and your neck until all your pain was gone. You hadn’t felt this relaxed in… God you couldn’t even remember. He finished with a gentle pat on your back, taking his seat across from you once again.

“Better?” He asked. You chuckled before sitting up straight.

“Um… Yeah actually. A-A lot better. I wasn’t expecting that.” You replied with a laugh. He places his hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“Such little faith in me.” He said with a smile. You shook your head.

“We’ve already burned through a quarter of our time together and I haven’t even started explaining anything. You’re a bad influence, Eddie Munson.” You said.

“In the flesh.”

>><<

You had been tutoring Eddie every weekday for the past two weeks, and his performance in class seemed to improve drastically. He asked to keep having sessions with you despite this, wanting to prepare as much as he could for the test that would be a significant chunk of his grade. You agreed, on the condition that he would continue giving you those massages.

And yes, you knew how weird it seemed, but you had been in such a better mood ever since Eddie started getting rid of your pain. So much so that Dustin confronted you, saying that you’d been acting weird and “goo-goo eyes over Eddie”. What did that twerp know anyways?

You knocked on the trailer door, wringing your hands over the strap of your bag in nervous anticipation. Why were you nervous? You’d spent so much time with him that you’d think you would’ve gotten over that by now. But this time around, the nervousness was different. Not like the first day when you were nervous because you were in a guy’s house who you never talked to before and was rumored to do dodgy shit, but a kind that made your heart thump loudly and your stomach do summersaults faster than a gymnast trying to show off. The kind that made you come up with weird analogies such as that one.

“(Y/n), you’re early,” Eddie said as he opened the door to let you inside. You smiled and took your bag off, setting it where you normally did.

“Yeah, one of my regulars canceled cause he was sick so you get me for a little longer today.” You replied.

“Sick with a fever or sick of you? Cause depending on which we may have something in common.” He said with a laugh. You frowned and looked at your feet. Did he really just say that he was sick of you? You pushed around a piece of carpet with the toe of your shoe, too embarrassed to look up, but in doing so you missed a key component of his joke. He took a swig of cough syrup, considering he’d been battling off a cold for the better half of a couple of days.

You sat at the small table for two in the living room area of his trailer, keeping your eyes glued downward. You heard a shuffle of feet and the movement of the chair as Eddie sat down across from you. He placed a cup of orange juice down before raising his eyebrows.

“Earth to (Y/n)? You didn’t check out on me did you?” He asked. You quickly glanced up before nodding. You didn’t know how you were going to salvage this.

“Oh yeah. I just remembered I was supposed to take Dustin out tonight though. A brother bonding thing our mom is making us do.” You said, grabbing your bag from the floor. Eddie raised his eyebrows, taken aback by your sudden declaration. You began to walk toward his door to let yourself out.

“O-oh, really? Alright. Yeah, no worries. I’ll see you tomorrow though, right?” He asked. You paused, a twinge of pain plucking your heartstrings. Why did he want to see you if he was so sick of you? But you didn’t have the guts to confront him.

“Y-Yeah… tomorrow.” You replied, walking out the door as soon as the words fell from your mouth. Eddie watched you get in your car and drive off. He always watched you leave, but this time it was different. It felt different. And maybe that different feeling was the reason that tomorrow never came.

Sure, the sun rose, the way it always does for tomorrow, but not for the tomorrow that he was supposed to see you. That day, 6:00 rolled around and you weren’t there, you weren’t rushing in late at 6:15, and you never called to cancel at 6:30. By 7:00 he was dialing Henderson’s number himself, because at 6:45 he’d convinced himself something terrible happened to you.

Your mom answered and apparently, you weren’t tutoring anyone anymore. Which was fine, he just thought you’d gotten close enough to tell him that yourself. When he asked to talk to you, she said you were busy showering. He leaned his head back and sighed in relief. The confirmation that you were safe was all he needed to be at ease.

“Okay, thank you, Ms. Henderson. Can you tell him to call me when he’s out? I have something important to tell him.” He asked. She said she’d relay the message to you and that was that. 8:00. 9:00. 10:00. 11:00. 12:00. And by 1:00 in the morning, he fell asleep by the phone, waiting on that call back that also never came.

Eddie found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. He knew you were okay. He knew that for whatever reason you told your mom to lie about your tutoring. He knew you were avoiding him on purpose. The one thing he didn’t know, was why.

Everything was fine one day and then totally fucked the next. He’d found himself falling for Henderson’s older brother and then suddenly you hate his guts? I mean, what were the odds of that happening?

He couldn’t take it anymore. It had only been a week without you and he was going stir crazy. Even if you told him you wanted him dead, he had to hear it for himself. No more listening to his thoughts running a mile a minute, coming up with the most outlandish reasons for your distance. He was going to get to the bottom of it and he wasn’t gonna give you the chance to use a lousy excuse like showering to get out of it.

He ducked behind the lockers, leaning against the wall that was ever so conveniently adjacent to the dark room. You passed it every day on your way to English, and he was going to have that conversation with you if it killed him.

Finally, he heard your voice, dropping things off at your locker and chatting with your friends. They went their separate ways to their respective classes and he heard the clang of the door. You were walking his way. He checked to make sure the coast was clear (his reputation was already bad, no need to make it worse) and once he deemed that it was, he grabbed your wrist to pull you into the dark room.

“What the fuck!?” You shouted.

“Shhh! It’s just me!” He replied. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Eddie? W-What are you doing? And where’s the damn light?” You asked, fumbling around the wall to search for a switch.

“No no no! Don’t do that! If you turn on the lights you’ll fuck up the photos and then the whole news club will kick my ass.” He whisper shouted. You laughed quietly at this, to which he sighed in response.

“You know I’ve missed that laugh.” He said. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, glad it was shrouded by the darkness.

“Why have you been avoiding me (Y/n)?” He asked, his voice softer than you were used to. You frowned and looked at your feet.

“Last time I went to your house you said you were sick of me so I just… I didn’t think you’d care if I stopped showing up.” You replied, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from whatever he was going to say.

“What? Sick of you? Why would I ever say that?”

“When I told you that my 5:00 canceled cause he was sick you said he was sick of me and that you had it in common with him! And don’t tell me I’m making anything up cause I remember it clear as day. I cried about it for hours when I got home.”

“Woah woah woah, slow down. I remember that too. But that wasn’t the full joke. I said ‘sick with a fever or sick of you? Cause depending on which we might have something in common.’” He replied. You rolled your eyes.

“Exactly.”

“(Y/n), I was also battling a fever. I drank medicine right after I said that to show you I was feeling sick. I’ve been coughing like crazy. Can’t you hear it in my raspy ass voice?” He asked with a laugh. You paused for a second, thinking over the sound of his voice and what he’d just said. Did you ignore him all week over a misunderstood joke?

“You were really sick?” You asked, almost too scared to hear the answer.

“Yes! You can even ask my uncle. I could never get sick of you. Shit, seeing you every day was the first thing I’ve ever looked forward to more than Hellfire days or Corroded Coffin performances.” He replied. You felt your heart start to thump faster once again.

“W-wait seriously? That’s so corny.” You said. You couldn’t see it, but Eddie’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“You’re the one who cried all night cause you thought I said I was sick of you!” He retorted. You laughed before wrapping your arms around him, which he was taken aback by.

“I’ll never ignore you again Eddie Munson.” You said. He smiled down at you fondly, despite knowing you couldn’t see him. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned his chin on your head.

“You better keep that promise, (Y/n) Henderson.”

And you did.

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zickmonkey · 1 year

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Fairchild Family Fic

Mild Chain of Thorns spoilers, Matthew tells his parents his secret. 2,270 words. Also soon to be cross posted on Ao3.

"Jamie?" Matthew had knocked on the office door Cordelia had led him to, before opening it completely, not waiting for his parabatai to call back. Surprising himself when he opened the door without trouble from his shaking hands.

"Math?" James was already looking towards the doorway, towards him, his eyebrows drawn in just enough his face began to crease, his golden eyes direct on Matthew.

"My- my parents leave for Idris, tomorrow. It's their last night in London-"

James cocked his head, "Are you thinking of going back with them?"

"No." He shook his head. "Oscar and I are staying. I was going to tell them, tonight, about-about what- I was going to tell them, before they left. I was- I was hoping you'd come with me."

His friend's head was at enough of an angle that his dark hair was free, tumbling off his forehead in groups, looking messy and carefree. But his face didn't match, the look of worry didn't leave it while he nodded.

"Of course, Matthew. Of course I'll come with you." James stood up, putting aside any concern he visibly felt for his friend and smiled. A gesture Matthew appreciated, when his friends smile had come to be such a comfort over the years, a common similarity.

• • •

James had held Matthew's hand the entire carriage ride to his parents house, keeping it still in between both of their laps.

"I don't know what I'll do," Matthew murmured, "if they don't forgive me." They were stopped outside of his parents house, should've been going in it. But he wasn't ready to move, just yet.

"They will, Math. There's not a doubt in my mind that they will." His parabatai had gently let go of his hand, signaling that it was time to go, but he leveled a clear look at him first that said he wasn't done with what he was saying. "But Matthew, will you forgive yourself with them?"

"I'll try."

"That's the most I could ask for."

James stepped out of the carriage without waiting, giving Matthew no opportunity to change his mind. Not when it would mean leaving his poor bestfriend stranded.

His hands were shaking as he followed James, standing beside him, both of them facing the Fairchild home. His hand no longer held his parabatai's, instead they only held each other in a half hearted attempt to keep them still that failed miserably.

"What if they don't let me in?" Matthew looked at his friend with what felt like the fakest smile he'd ever put on, trying pretend it was a dumb joke and not something he really was scared of. He couldn't bare the thought of walking up to the doors only to be locked out, worse if he'd have to knock and they'd refuse his entrance.

"It's your home, Matthew. And they're your parents. Their door will always be open to you."

"They might not consider it my home anymore. . . I've rarely visited since I moved out. Recently I haven't at all, aside from after Edom. After Belial, and London. . . I'd let my mother lead me home, I slept in my old bed, but I'd left early in the morning. Before they'd woken." He could only imagine how it must of hurt his mother to find him gone like that, without even saying goodbye. It made him want to go inside even less.

"Your mother will let you back in now, too. She will lead you to the same bed, if you need it, she will love you just as much Math."

He shook his head, hanging it just enough he could see the shined black leather of his shoes, before he separated his hands and reached one out to ask for James's.

"I don't suppose if they cast me out yours would take me in? They accepted a ghost, why not someone who attempted matricide?" This he had completely meant as a jest, but Jamie did not laugh, even for his benefit.

"They won't cast you out, Matthew. You're their son."

He allowed himself one more breath before he lead James up the steps, and despite having a key, knocked.

He could not have bared to try the key to find out the locks had been changed, so he did not try.

It took too long for someone to answer.

Long enough that he began to believe they'd spied him through a window and had refused him entry, that he should just turn and leave.

He'd just begun to tug on James's hand to do so, when the door opened.

Matthew stared at his mother, and his mother stared back.

"Matthew," It was less greeting, and more of a numb surprise she hadn't meant to voice. "James. Hello." She hadn't stopped looking at her son.

"Is Charles home?" He asked.

His mother had always been small, both height and stature, but she'd always had a way about her that made her feel so much bigger. You forgot, when she was in a room, that she was so slight, so small, she was always in charge. If not in charge, confident to the point you'd know to turn to her if anything went even slightly off plan.

He hadn't felt as though he towered over her until now, and it was less that he felt tall, but more that he felt she was small and delicate and he was massive. He was taking up all the space- he felt as though he couldn't breathe, he had to be taking up all the air as well- and leaving none for her, for his mama.

She looked briefly disappointed, before she shook her head.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course you can. Is that why you knocked? Did you think-"

"I forgot my key," Matthew lied smoothly, and silently yelled at himself. He was here to be honest, and he started it by lying.

Charlotte stepped from the door frame, Matthew stepping in, finally letting go of James's hand.

"Where's papa? Downstairs?"

"No," His mother was still watching him, and only him. "He's in the sitting room."

"Good." He'd replied. "I need to talk to the both of you."

His mother nodded, only now looking away, starting her walk towards the sitting room Matthew was equally familiar with.

He was used to the soft neutrals of the furniture, the way it was both refined and regal, a part of him missed it. He missed his home.

And he missed his father, who sat in his chair, busy with something in his hands before he'd looked up and smiled at his wife. Then, noticing them, at his soon and his son's friend.

He barely let his mother sit down before he started talking.

"When I was in the academy there was a rumor about me. I didn't- or about our family. I- I didn't believe it, at first, but then I couldn't stop thinking about it." He hadn't even gotten to the real hard part yet, and still he could not look at either of his parents. "It was that I was a bastard. That Henry couldn't possibly be my papa. That it was Gideon Lightwood, instead."

"That's what you needed to discuss with us? Matthew. . . of course Henry's your father. Gideon is a friend-"

"No. I- that's not it. I know now that you're my papa," He looked directly at his father, the man he had once been so close to. He looked unconsciously to make sure his father was perfectly intact, still so used to taking care of him, and despite the distance felt himself relieved when he saw no new burns or cuts on his skin, his browning red hair wasn't even tinged. "And you are the best papa I could ever have. I am glad that it is you.

"I am not accusing either of you of mistakes, I am telling you of my own. I am asking for forgiveness."

He took a moment- he wanted to keep going, instead of leaving them wondering any longer.

He didn't know how to continue when all he could hear was his heart beat, all he could feel was the cardiac muscle slamming against his ribs and his lungs refusing to inflate.

James put his hand back on Matthew's, and he could breathe again.

"When I was a boy, I believed it. I did the unforgivable. I went to a shadow market, I was young and stupid and I was tricked. I'd thought I'd bought a truth potion. I never should've doubted for a moment who my father was, I never should've played with the faeries.

"I made the scones you always liked, mama. And I added some of it. I was going to hear the truth, I'd decided. But it was all a lie. I was a fool.

"I'd nearly killed you."

He took a moment before he said what was left, his head hanging low.

"And I did kill the baby. My sister.

"I'm sorry. I am so so so sorry." He felt like all of him was shaking, he probably was. His stomach was in his throat, almost literally. It was taking all of him not to vomit on the floor. He was trying to avoid crying, and wasn't entirely sure he was succeeding.

James's hand tightened on his own when neither of his parents spoke.

Matthew had known James was wrong. He had known that what he'd done was unforgivable. He'd let Cordelia convince him it wasn't. He'd let James.

"Matthew," he heard his mother, but he didn't look at her. "You've kept that to yourself this whole time?"

He didn't hear anger in her voice, though he was sure that's why she was asking. Because he'd known what he'd done and he'd let them love him.

"I know." He murmured. "I should've told you. I should've told you so you stopped loving me. I'm sorry, that I let you continue to after everything. I tried to get away, so that you'd stop-"

"No, Matthew." He was surprised, this time, when it was his father, sounding surprisingly clear. And there. "You should've told us so we could help you."

He hadn't meant to, but he looked up. He was shocked by how gentle his father sounded. The way he heard no anger from either of them.

He didn't see it, either. His mother's hand was tightly in her husband's. Both of their brown eyes were darkened just slightly by the shadows of their drawn in brows while they watched him.

"Help me?"

"Yes, Matthew. We could've helped you let go of this burden, earlier."

"I wouldn't have deserved that." He knew it was what he was asking for now, that he shouldn't he arguing against it.

"You did. You do. Matthew, you made a mistake. It would be a different story, if you had meant the harm you caused. But we know you hadn't meant it, we know you, Matthew. We know you never would've done it intentionally."

"And Matthew," he looked from his father, to his mother as she took over the conversation. "We lost you too. We lost our baby, but losing you was harder.

"We just want you back."

He looked between both of them, back and forth, even once looking towards James. "You forgive me?"

"We do." His mother nodded.

Matthew had stopped trying to keep his tears away, now. They poured down his face while he stayed on the opposite side of the room as his parents.

He felt small again. Young. He wanted his mother to hold him, he wanted her to stay in London instead of return to Idris. He remembered when he'd held her skirts so tightly as a small boy begging her not to leave and he had the urge to do it now.

"I've stopped drinking." He said instead. Instead of asking that they hold him or stay longer. He was grown now, and while he wasn't a fan of his brother, he was sure Charles had never fallen at their feet and begged them to love him.

"You have?" He heard a tone of happiness in his mother's voice.

"I have. I stopped- I stopped after Paris. I- I've been sober for- for a couple weeks. I'm trying."

"That's wonderful, Matthew!" His mother stood up from where she was sitting, gently separating her hand from Henry's, and walked towards him.

She wrapped her arms around him so tightly he let out a loud breath by accident, before he buried his head in her shoulder, and sobbed harder. He held her back just as tightly. Not letting her go for too long.

When finally he let her go she stepped just slightly back, before returning to her chair, and her husband.

"We have good news, too." Matthew watched him place her hand back with her husband's. "We're expecting another baby."

"You are?"

"We are. And we are very happy that you'll get your chance at being a big brother."

#jamie shut the fuck up #just vibing #personal blog #books #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #charlotte fairchild #henry fairchild #chain of thorns #fan fiction #fan fic #chain of thorns spoilers #chain of thorns fanfiction #matthew fairchild #james herondale #matthew gets forgivness #cot #cot spoilers #the infernal devices

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lavender-long-stories · 7 months

Text

Nari's Feral on Display Part 2

spoilers for Lavender Clouds

Can we just appreciate that Nari’s second Lavender Clouds' first comment was soo long and unhinged that they had to put it in two comments?

Mild disclaimer Nari references chapter 11 which is no longer chapter 11 since the rewrite. Ignore the numbers here.

Kisame [...] did such a number on me I couldn't possibly predict he would become the family's official favorite uncle, and yet (and yet I got another ship, even though I already have so many. Hinata's harem keeps getting bigger)

You and me both. T-T KisaHina might be one of my favorites that came out of Lavender Clouds and they were very much not romantic here. I just love their soft dynamic so damn much.

I absolutelly love how Hinata can be such a mom to these grown ass terrorists.

She really is. I think the best thing is it’s not even out of character for her. She is trying to do her job which is caring for them and there is no other way for her to do it. She isn’t going to threaten them, she is going to scold them.

Also: Itachi respecting her, Hinata feeling proud of herself because of him, Kisame letting her do her thing. The three of them were my favorites from the start, right up until the end. [...] The three of them were just so comfortable to have around, and it felt like such a huge thing when they weren't there all the time anymore.

I need to write so much more of this dynamic of the three of them because I love it so much. Kisame being a protective big brother to Hinata, except when she is mothering him when he is hurt or she is feeding him. Itachi and Hinata being soft and understanding of each other. Itachi and Kisame leveling on being concerned about Hinata. GAH! I need to write more of the three of them.

I think you are really talented writing comfort stuff, because when you make your characters care for each other you make us readers care for them in return, and the hardest thing in writing a good story (to me, at least) is to make characters human enough and to give - or reproduce - their personalities well enough, and you can do that so nicely, even when they get a little out of character you can still pull that off because you give them humanity and reason to do so.

Not the best compliment being dropped in the middle of a paragraph like it’s going to make my entire heart melt less. I am going to go die happy now, thank you. T-T

“You’re a regular housewife.” SO? SHE'S KEEPING YOU ALIVE, DIPSHIT. [...] It's really cute how Kisame went from "I don't trust you, I will end you" to "You're useful" to "I would die for you" so quickly, the three stages of adopting a missing-nin.

Well after making me cry we are back to the chaos. I love Kisame’s teasing.

Kisame is the dad who says ‘we are not keeping the dog’ and ends up the one bonded with it.

Hidan mocking Hinata when he first showed up is just so funny to me, not only because he will have his ass handed to him, but because he also becomes an uncle. Fuck you, Hidan.

Hidan and Hinata’s relationship is wonderful because I think Hidan brings pain-in-the-ass big brother energy and Hinata gets to actually have some fun with him when he’s around, and she’s not sewing his limbs back on.

Do you know that feeling when amazing fictional locations are destroyed? That feeling of hopelessness, even though the places do not exist, but the memories in there are just as strong as if they're real? I feel that a lot, because I think the memories are what build a home. Hinata's little cottage was a home, as well as a bribe, and everyone had a good time in there. It's so bittersweet. I think her house was a character just as any other, because it had a personality and served a purpose just like any other. Seeing it again and knowing they will need to move on eventually hits really hard.

Ugh T-T Destroying the cottage gave me retiring the Going Merry flashbacks.

Anyway, Akatsuki could totally be a real state agency, it seems.

Head cannon request: Do you think the Akatsuki owned it before asking Hinata to join or bought it to bribe Hinata after the found out she was available? O.O?

I love it when Hinata is missing having people around and thinks "hey maybe I shouldn't be emotionally dependent on criminals" and then she gets emotionally dependent on them anyway.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t become emotionally dependent on the men who keep coming back with their organs falling out and limbs missing possibly due to people I knew and loved there is no way that can end well.’

Oh yeah, I meant to ask you something when I first read. The books Pein gave her for her research were previously owned by Tobi? He talks about his later on, about the research being compromised. I thought the icky feeling she had was because the books were owned by Orochimaru, since he is a fucked up psychopath who was part of Akatsuki before.

So all the research is collected by Tobi. Some of what he tells Hinata is lies that’s why that might not be clear, but he does say to Hinata (in their final conversation) that he collected all her research. Most of the research pre-dates Orochimaru, but some of it may have come from him without him signing his name.

Thank you for introducing the art of killing people by Hinata's pretty hands too, it gave me life and joy and happiness and I twirled my hair and giggled a lot :D

I never did come up with a name for the technique because I refuse to call it ‘violent fist’ like my husband suggested. -.-

SASORI AND DEIDARA ARE HERE, FINALLY. LAV, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I COULD WRITE YOU A FUCKING ESSAY ABOUT THEM AND NEVER SHUT UP ANYMORE.

Bring it on bestie.

I think Sasori was just so fucking confused. I also think it's funny how what made it for him, regarding Hinata, was pretty much what did it for Gaara in [Lavender Sand]: being treated gently not because she was wary of them, but because she saw them as deserving of it as any other person. She saw both of them as people and treated them as such, and it really did a number on them. Funny, considering how Gaara and Sasori behave about each other in here.

Hinata basically wins over everyone like this, just seeing people for who they are and treating them like they are people. Gaara and Sasori both suffer from the emotional damage of falling in love with the woman they can’t be with who treated them like human beings for the first time. T-T

You said it was rough to not make Sasohina and, well... yeah. It was hard on me too because how dare you make Sasori such a complex and interest character, the travesty. The travesty in giving him something he could only long for and never truly have because he isn't like the other men around. He kind of had her, and he decided to stay even though it hurt emotionally, because in the end having something bittersweet was better than having nothing at all after all the love and care. It really hurt because you made them care for each other so much, in Hinata learning about him and how to help him (as she did to everyone) and him taking care of her in his own way. I never expected Sasori in here. I never expected him to be a possibility.

I have admitted this a few times. If I were to write Lavender Clouds today, it would have been SasoHina because they just had so much chemistry, and it would have been perfect to have her go with one half of the love triangle between her, Gaara, and Sasori.

I need to write another fic with them because I just love their dynamic so much, one of them always teaching the other something. (Maybe another GaaHinaSaso because I love to make myself feel pain.)

Sasori trying to be an authority and getting beaten down by Hinata’s reasoning. Sasori gives up so early to not express his affection because he knows he’s no longer human and believes he can’t offer her a normal relationship, but the biggest tragedy is that if Hinata had known this probably would have ended SasoHina because Hinata would not care about him not being human or his true age.

"Deidara acted like a civilian teenager, flirting, rebelling, and throwing tantrums, especially when she told him how long she would keep him. No one in the Akatsuki had any patience at all. He was also rather sweet, passionate, and funny." And it fucks me from behind. This Barbie son of a whore was so suicidal and loathed himself so much it became narcissism. It seems like with Deidara, in canon, he never felt like he was enough to a point where he just wanted to be remembered when he died. You gave him a reason to stay, you got him coming back too. Being alive might not have worked in the long run, but at least to me, it felt like you respected him and did him some justice. I'm thankful to you for being good to him. I cried a lot about him.

God damn it Nari ‘This Barbie son of a whore’ had me rolling.

Deidara and Hinata probably had the least interaction (until he came back, if you know, you know) but they were cute, and he was excited to come home and have someone like his work and appreciate his birds. He was remembered, he can be sure of that.

To be honest I cried very often. I cried every 3 chapters, I think.

I am not sure if I just personally hit you in the emotions, or if you just cry a lot and after knowing you for a while I am still not sure XD

This is about all of the "what could have been". I'm totally unhealthy about how much out of time Hinata was in here. Out of time with her loved ones, never reaching when she could, never having enough time with them. She lost Naruto before even having him, she lost the possibility of Gaara, she lost Itachi when he was within reach, she lost Sasori to things that weren't their fault and happened before her time. It kills me, it fucking obliterates me, that her time was made of missing chunks of things that never came to be, of flowers that never grew, of impossible possibilities. I thought she didn't have as much chemistry with Sasuke as she had with her other possibilities, but what made it truly work for them imo was that Sasuke was just there at the right time. He stayed. Even when they thought they'd lost each other they didn't because they were in the right time, for once, and they didn't want to let it go.

I think this is the true secret to the final ship of this story. Hinata knew that her and Gaara would never last. Itachi never gave her a chance to think of him that way because he knew he would break her heart. Sasori kept quiet because he knew he wasn’t human. Hinata had given up on love and would have really taken anything and Sasuke was consistent and was waiting for her when she got back.

A lot of IRL relationships are like this. Think of all the people you may have missed just because of the timing or the missing the person you are with now because you didn’t take the chance or didn’t show up to that event.

Diving into the second message, buckle up.

I went back to ffnet yesterday after leaving the second comment because I wanted to give Lavender Umbrella a chance and it made me realize stuff and I'm totally going insane.

Live footage of Nari discovering the Lavender-verse.

You created your own little world inside your stories, you have the characters humanity and you gave them things to enjoy and care about, and you worked those things in your other works. Gaara and his thing about hugging Hinata and hiding in her tummy in Lavender Sand, Kisame enjoying the cooking and being taken care of in Lavender Umbrella, Itachi in Testing Success being a stable source of comfort and tranquility even in his worst moments, Sasuke being weirdly good with kids and having a good head on his shoulders when it comes to help Hinata because he cares about her and doesn't expect shit in return in What He Left Behind. It is too soon to analyze Death Wishes and I haven't read Wheels and Lavender Memories yet, but you are solid with your description of their core traits and it is so nice.

Let me die happy right here with the best compliments ever.

A personal love I have with writing fan fiction is I can pluck a character or character dynamics out of one story and plop it into another situation, and it makes a whole new story.

Kisame and Hinata’s absolute tooth-rotting fluff of their need to take care of each other.

Gaara not understanding but desperately wanting to take Hinata’s comfort and affection.

Itachi constantly being bitch with a plan that causes problems for everyone and him not backing down on it.

Sasuke calm when Hinata is panicking or spiraling and Hinata’s calm when Sasuke is being erratic or angry.

(And now since it came out but they weren’t at the time of this comment) Hidan being loosely respectful of Hinata’s authority because he either feels like he needs her (medic) or because he doesn’t want to lose the one person who treats him nicely (which is most of the reason most of my pairings happen).

Btw, stop killing Itachi.

Hey… I technically, I have only killed him once if you count Death Wishes as him not being dead. There are several stories set after his death (because of where the story falls in cannon) but I don’t think that counts. I think I plenty of room to kill more. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I think he was already dead in the moment he resigned to it, to be honest. And I think Hinata knew that too.

Is accepting that you are going to die part of death itself - and other spooky thoughts I probably shouldn’t be asking myself.

There were several moments I think he wanted to kiss her [...] I think it was the moment it hit Itachi how much he trusted her.

This is interesting to me, I would love know when these moments are. Lets talk I want all the head cannons.

He was also with a foot in the grave and still went for the base with Hidan for her, I will KILL ALL OF THE WINDOWS IN THE WORLD-

Hahahahahahahah

Kisame's hugs. Kisame's hugs and Kisame being lovely. And Kisame's tenderness. Kisame in general, just Kisame. And cuddles. I'm having a stroke, do you feel me? I developed such and attachment to a dude

THIS This is why I needed Lavender Umbrellas to exist.

now I want to lick his face.

ಠ~ಠ Nari sometimes I question you. XD

Lavender Clouds

Pairing: Sasuke x Hinata Rating: T

Description: Hinata runs away from home into the arms of the Akatsuki. Bonds with Itachi. Saves his brother. Learns to reverse Gentle Fist. Raises a demon baby?

@nikandrros

#nari i blame you #I love you #this is how you become my best friend #comment highlight #lavender clouds

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lovelywingsart · 10 months

Note

*explodes into your inbox* HI I know this will probably be answered later on when you reach that part of the plot, but in the Metalworks AU: what's the Heisenberg's relationship like with Chris/the BSAA like? Do they have to check in on a regular basis to make sure Karl isn't attempting world domination one weaponised Roomba at a time?

👀👀👀

I might, though that also depends JUST how deep ill want to go with the written stories, or when i get to sketching them more- But anyway! Smol bitty 'spoilers' for the story, but not enough to ruin it. uwu This will also be long. You know my rambles.

Karl and Chris/BSAA have an... interesting relationship.

Karl was, of course, incredibly hesitant when Emelia and Chris made the deal that granted them freedom. He didn't trust Chris for a single fucking moment, and you can bet he wasn't too happy when part of the deal was that they would absolutely be under some sort of *mild* supervision via the Hound Wolf Squad specifically, and partially the BSAA as a whole. Not so much that they'd be up their asses, but just enough to make sure things don't go out of hand. (Meaning no, no weaponized roombas. Sorry to disappoint. 😂 He kinda fell off the whole 'creating murderous robots to take over the world' thing when he suddenly had no real reason to after Mirandas death- it was alot to take in. He had MANY feelings after that.)

They amazingly don't really check on them much, maybe a random helicopter from a distance- because what really helps the 'survailance' is Ethan and Emelia writing back and forth. Once again, Karl was adamant in demanding not to put too much personal shit in there because he KNEW Chris would see them too. It took him a little bit to get comfortable with the idea that someone on the outside might know more about their life, as he discovered that he would definitely prefer living in solitude with his family now that he actually had the choice to.

The only times Karl and Chris really came face to face was when Ethan and Rose would visit and vice versa, and honestly they just... avoided eachother mostly. An untrusting glance here, a defensive growl from Karl there, but they more or less left eachother alone save for Karl sometimes being a smartass, as he does. Really their slight animosity came to both a head and a surprising end when Emelia had the twins, which is where the one image of Karl getting in his face comes in- and honestly it was partially because of Adalwulf. Had he not stepped in and calmed Karl down, Chris wouldn't have had the respect for him that he does, and he wouldn't have joined the Hound Wolf Squad as a 'Bioweapon Defense' with Rose who joined shortly after. Karl kinda came around to the idea after being incredibly against it, and his own trust in Chris genuinely didn't start GROWING until after Emelia talked to him about Ada joining them. So it took... about 12-13 years for both Karl and Chris to not completely have sticks up their asses about it despite Emelia calling him for help once before (to find her birth family), if I'm doing my timeline math right.

After that they ended up having enough mild respect to at least talk without Karl being a complete dick and Chris being a military hardass, and eventually it was enough to share a few beers and for Chris to actually offer THEM a small spot in the crew due to the fact that they're considered 'first generation bioweapons'. While they don't take the spot fully (again, they prefer staying with their *growing* family), they do sometimes go out for things that might be of their concern, mostly to assess things or at least provide support somehow. Mostly Emelia, but Karl will join too, which leads to Chris finding out just how much of an actual fucking tank the old man is with his defense without needing to mutate at all.

I can't really say Karl ever FULLY trusts Chris and vice versa even after a few years, but it's enough to occasionally be drinking buddies and work together after the twins are born and just kinda stays on that point until Redfield kicks the damn bucket (who knows if he ever will tho, Capcom likes to squeeze as much as they can out of him specifically so I mean 🤷)

#answered ask #ask answered #ask me #ask me anything #ask me things #ask me stuff #Metalworks Survival AU #karl heisenberg #chris redfield #re8 OC #re8 fanfiction #heisenberg x oc #Metalworks asks

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godtier · 10 months

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and now for something completely different—

so I'm playing through ffxvi and I wanted to Rant about my experience so far so spoilers

so firstly, and not actually spoilers lmao, idk why this game makes my ps5 so warm. it's honestly not... *that* impressive graphically? which isn't necessarily a dig at it; I'll play anything as long as I can tell wtf is going on and it's fun to play. so idk if it's just yet another AAA game that isn't optimized well or what, though typically console games are *more* optimized... idk! just a gripe.

other than that, I'm seeing some Issues developing narratively... I'm not what I'd call an Expert Writer but yknow it's been noticeable so far. here are few thoughts and gripes with the story:

the inconsistencies in the story. the biggest one so far, and this is what I'd consider p big spoilers, is clive's whole "I gotta come to terms with the fact I killed Joshua" which is like... okay *fair* I suppose, but once he figured out that he was ifrit, yknow after killing benedikta, he... I mean he kinda *did* immediately accept it?? so... the whole "I gotta accept this" part was odd. I have heard tell that it was meant to represent a jungian acceptance of the shadow, or at least that's what people are alluding to in their own theories (and this is all secondhand btw bc I have the tags blocked til I finish)

to elaborate on what jung's interpretation of the shadow is for those who don't know: the shadow is essentially the suppressed subconscious, the things you don't want to acknowledge, for better or worse. it's most typically applied to things like traumatic events, but jung specifically does not commit to the idea that the shadow is *only* bad things. when you confront the shadow, the next step is to integrate the shadow to the conscious mind or ego, which you could argue was why they may have written it the way they did; clive isn't just acknowledging that he did do that (which he pretty readily did when he figured out he was ifrit's dominant) but he's also accepting it as irrefutable fact and integrating it to the ego so it cannot be repressed again.

now... having said that, the *problem* narratively that I'm seeing is that... well. Joshua isn't dead. clearly if Joshua had died... well, that'd be one thing. now they're saying "well ACKCHUALLY 🤓 he didn't die at all!" so that, to me, renders the entire "journey" pointless. what exactly is he accepting? if he didn't actually do it, why or how could he feasibly accept ifrit in that context? wouldn't his subconscious mind, his shadow (ifrit in this case) remain unincorporated? it's just very clunky and I think it was meant to show Clive as an unreliable narrator.... but there's really no one there but Joshua to confront this false accusation. and Joshua is MIA currently at the point I'm in so! who knows!

moving on, Jill is currently nearly a non-character at this point. what I mean by that is she's always just sort of... there. the only times she's shown depth is her speaking about hating herself for what she did with her powers while in captivity. even then, it doesn't appear to be given the attention smth like that deserves; we see a handful of flashbacks from when we fight her at the very beginning... and that's really it. I would like to see more but I have a feeling they will not be showing us

benedikta died way too early. she seemed like she was going to be a character of mild intrigue, but she was killed so very quickly. her and cid's past relationship (whatever that might have been) was only just elaborated on (we know cid saved her from slavery but little else), but I feel it could have been fleshed out beyond that. they spoke in broad terms about how she was and then what she became... but nothing I would consider to be substantial enough, given her connection to a major character. we also don't see enough of her and hugo, just that scene where they practically dry hump in the hallway. we know he cared a lot about her, esp during the scene with her uh. severed head? which... who did that, exactly? they blame it on cid, but we know he would not have done that. but anyway, fleshing out their relationship would have been nice

cid's death. now, it's not that I'm saying something as basics as "he could have lived" which, maybe? and it's not even that they did the whole "oh [mystery person] (it's Joshua) shows up to save them but he's too late!" trope crap. what bothers me the most about his death from a character perspective is his lack of *any* mention of the daughter he supposedly loved so much as he lay dying. now yes, up til that point, we only know that cid has a daughter via a sidequest that people could miss. but that in and of itself is an issue. why introduce that aspect of his character... and then never do anything with it while he was alive? why did they feel it sidequest worthy? they could have just slipped it in as banter or something, maybe gav teasing him or something?? anything?? basically the fact that he dies without nary an utterance of his so beloved daughter, not even her name, was a huge sour point to me. sure, you could argue that he wanted to get pertinent information to Clive as quickly as possible since he knew he was dying, but I would have been satisfied with just a whisper of her name (which I don't remember them mentioning during the sidequest?) and they could elaborate on it later, maybe in a follow-up sidequest??? maybe you find the letter he meant to send her back?? anything??? it just seems so weird from a characterization standpoint to introduce this concept of him melting for his daughter, his daughter being such a soft spot, etc, and then... never addressing it in a meaningful way when he's on death's doorstep

OK this is a dumb thing and not necessarily a negative thing but how the fuck did tomes, a geriatric librarian, survive the raid on the hideout but a bunch of younger, much more spry characters just croaked and couldn't escape lmao. IDK I LOVE TOMES DONT GET ME WRONG but it was just so... idk. funny? I also get it's a game mechanics contrivance as well, given that they built an entire mechanic around him, but idk I wanted to mention it bc it makes me laugh

that's about it for now. if you message me about this tho, pls no spoilers beyond the iron kingdom crystal raid. thank. 🙏

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #final fantasy 16 #as mentioned in the post #pls don't spoil beyond the mentioned point #thank #otherwise feel free to discuss any of the above #bc it's wild to me

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anfie-in-the-box · 1 year

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Я опубликовал(а) 51 пост в 2022 году

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Только 20% из моих постов остались без тегов

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#like either the world proved something to me or i proved something to the world

Мои самые популярные посты в 2022:

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

By some miracle, I finished this a few days before the event, so please have this little thing. It's not even a spoiler for Turns, twists, and paradoxes, since there's not much plot or would-building or whatnot. Just some feelings and mild info gathering without any details (again, not to spoil anything). You may consider it a teaser of some kind if you'd like.

For those who are interested in X-tra Dark Cream, here's the link to the first chapter of the main work (with beautiful fanart!) and the first teaser (also for Dark Cream Week, by the way!)

。。。

On Edge

Cross is right on the edge of a universe, some kind of Outerfell or something, watching its code carefully.

。。。

Dream is waiting for him in the Anti-void, always on edge, always somewhere between life and death, so fragile and so strong it fascinates even him.

。。。

Cross rubs his tired, sore eyes. Looking for weak points is never easy; it's a boring, thankless job, something he's not fond of at all.

。。。

Dream is sick of waiting. He hates it when Cross has to leave, but he's also useless where Cross is not. He can't see the code, and he can't trust himself to stay the way he is, so instead, he stays put.

。。。

Cross misses Dream greatly. It hurts to be away for long, and what he's doing always takes so very long. Scanning the whole universe's code, its every timeline and character, is time-consuming for sure. But as Nightmare said, Dream's power is highly specific, so they need to know what they're doing. Cross will make damn sure they do.

。。。

The lack of Cross' warmth and complicated emotions, always love and always heartbreak, affects Dream greatly. The Anti-void is, like it's supposed to be, empty, and while it's safer this way for everyone including Dream, it's also suffocating in a way he can't possibly explain. Weakening, too, but that won't last long: Cross will be back, and soon they'll ruin yet another world.

。。。

Cross absent-mindedly plays with the locket on his neck. It carries so much, reminds him of the path he's taken, with all good and all bad, all success and all mistakes, and the choices he's made, and how far he's come, despite everything. How far they've come — he's not alone anymore. Never will have to be. It also reminds him how there's a purpose in his pain – something he desperately needs to remember to stay as determined as he is. And when he's determined, he doesn’t need hope anymore.

。。。

Dream plays with the ring on his finger, thinking how he should get one for Cross. Maybe when he's not like this. Or maybe earlier, if Nightmare doesn't think of something soon. Dream is tired of waiting. There's just never the best time, every single time is wrong. Might as well just do it. The thought fills his with determination, not much different from Cross' own. With that, Dream doesn’t need hope. And being as weak to positivity as he is, that's all he could ever ask for — to not need hope. Cross has taught him this, and who knew it'd become not only convenient but crucial for survival. What a life they have.

。。。

What a life they have. Once again getting ready to crush a whole alternate universe with their own dreams — at that, it seems to be an easy one, a classic, dare Cross say. Would be enough to destroy the barrier, violent monsters and scared but strong humans will do the rest without their help. Dream'll get a whole lot of shattered positivity, even from such a dark world, the usual Fell one, — there are still kids and even some adults who love and hope and dream, it's not entirely rotten with misery and hate. Unlike some they stumbled onto.

。。。

Recollecting some of the nastier ones, Dream winces. He's never had the access to them before, simply couldn't get somewhere lacking any positivity, but now that he's able to, he gets to know just how bleak, cruel, woeful and just sinister the Multiverse can be. There really are worlds where there's nothing for him to shatter. It's unnerving to think about, even now, on the brink of death. Everyone deserves happiness, right?.. But everyone also deserves to live, and for that, they need balance. A universe destroyed means a universe created, a world racked with fear and hate means somewhere there is a world of prosperity and joy. That's how it works, Dream knows. That's also why he's not afraid to meddle — and surely he's meddling, has been since the beginning, just less than his brother. The universes exist without their help or any interference at all. They weren't even supposed to be here, as Nightmare found out; it's not even their Multiverse. Suits them right to be with those who don't exactly fit in as well, both Cross and Killer being neither monsters nor humans, and Killer with his wrecked mind, and Cross with his unstable, manic creator, one who just were never supposed to be in the same world with his creations; it's all so complicated... Ccino is the only person of some sort of norm among them, and even he is a mystery. Dream wishes he had some of his coffee; it'd remind him of Cross and Nightmare, warming him inside and out.

。。。

Cross would honestly kill for some of Ccino's coffee at this point. And maybe even a cat on his lap. Purrfection, preferably; he must admit, he's rather fond of his cat-self. More so than he is of himself, if he's being entirely honest... Cross is getting tired, restless. He's not a patient man; he's a fighter, not a clerk sorting through the files. But that's what he needs to fight later and as a good guard, he does what needs to be done. Even if it bores him half to death. They must be aware of where and when they put themselves into, what they should exploit and what they have to avoid. There's too much at stake to take any risks. There's Dream’s precious life at stake; and really, Cross' own as well. He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if he failed. So he won't fail. It's easy like that. They're not okay, probably won't ever be, at least not entirely; but that's alright. Maybe they've got a real bad hand, so what? They'll live with that. They just will. Everyone works hard to make it happen, Dream most of all, with Cross and — as much as it pains him to admit — Nightmare following suit. They're... a somewhat good team, even. Somehow.

。。。

They're a surprisingly good team. Not the best, but… As disconnected and disharmonised as Dream and Nightmare are, as complicated as Cross' relationship with both Nightmare and Killer is, they're doing well. It's… It seems almost possible that they can do it, sometimes. That Dream won't die sooner or later. And Dream's so afraid of dying. But what terrifies him more is his brother's fate — losing control, being merely an observer of the deeds of an entity none of them can quite comprehend. That helplessness just might kill him. Almost killed Nightmare, too, — and isn't that a terrifying thought to think. Dream does his best to shoo that kind of thoughts away, into the farther corners of his mind, but that never really works out. Denial is not the best way to solve one's problems, as easy as it might seem. It's just running away. Something Dream cannot possibly afford. He needs to be here, to stay present. Otherwise he's as good as lost. They don't want that. That can't allow that to happen. Too much is at stake. And Dream… Dream doesn’t want to die, regardless of the consequences. Simple like that. Natural even.

。。。

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47 заметок - опубликовано 10 марта 2022 г.

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

It's short but pretty much finished, so here it is. Again, nothing much, and no spoilers for Turns, twists, and paradoxes either. Some self-reflection and a bit of much needed warmth.

。。。

In Control

Dream wanders around, his steps light and quiet, his thoughts loud and tangled. After all…

It is Dream who hurts all those innocent people.

It is Dream who ruins lives and damages worlds beyond repair.

It is Dream who corrupts and twists and spreads hatred and fear and sometimes kills.

It is Dream who does everything he's once sought to end or at least decrease.

There's no excuse. An explanation, maybe, but who cares? Definitely not those he's left to rot in their hopeless universes, utterly broken by him.

He's not a good person anymore. Cannot afford to be, sure. It's a matter of survival, alright. There's a million reasons why, but not a single one and not all of them are enough to justify what he does.

Once full of mercy, full of love, he'd now walk a million miles to see others' worlds on fire. Figuratively mostly, although sometimes that kind of disaster is indeed the best — as a distraction or on its own.

It kills Dream to not be the way he used to be. It kills him to go against his nature, slowly but surely changing.

He's adapting, one might say. Maybe even Dream himself might say that. Because that's right. That's true. That's what he does. But is that enough? All he ever wanted was to be good, and for his brother and everyone to be happy. Funny how he failed so miserably. Although... might it ever work out? In the end?

"Dream?"

Oh. Cross is awake. Dream turns around, smiling despite himself at the sight of his slightly sleepy love.

"I'm okay," he assures, first and foremost. As okay as can be, they both know. No need to clarify.

Cross gives him a small, relieved smile. "Good." Rubs his eyes, stretches a little, yawns without a sound. So pretty and so… relaxed, almost; something they can barely afford these days; never could, and likely never will, not fully. It's a bittersweet sight, how this relaxation slowly seeps out of Cross' body and mind, replaced with concentration and resolve. That's what they need, but that's not what either of them would want.

Not that anyone's ever asked for their opinion. They'll just have to make do. As pretty much always, but the situation has never been this dire. This… desperate.

Dream lowers himself on his knees in front of Cross, stretches both hands to him, and just for a moment, nothing matters anymore.

It's Dream who holds Cross' hand in his two, caressing gently, reverently almost.

It's Dream whom Cross is staring at, so very lovingly, so fondly it hurts a little.

It's Dream who'll hug Nightmare the next time they meet, what feels like a fleeting touch that's never quite enough, no matter how long it lasts — and it can last longer than it could with anybody else, for Nightmare is a being of negative energy. Every second is precious, and Dream can't possibly get enough.

Dream’s in control. He'll do everything to make sure it stays that way. For everyone, and for himself most of all.

It's about time to learn to be selfish. If not on the brink of life and death, while by some miracle he's still the one in control, when else?

。。。

Notes

There's actually a reference in this one! "Once full of mercy, full of love, he'd now walk a million miles to see others' worlds on fire" — this sentence is changed lyrics of the Undertale song RUINous by Go! Child:

Once full of mercy, full of love / You fear just what I have become / You know I'd walk a million miles / To set your world on fire

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51 заметка - опубликовано 12 марта 2022 г.

Hello there! So. The 11th of October is my birthday. Congratulations are unnecessary, I don't celebrate; but what you can do is support me! If you're interested in any of my works, consider reading others! Here's some links to help you navigate in my projects.

A dream that comes crashing down (UTMV x Coraline — a book and a cartoon — crossover; part of the Ragdollsverse series)

Fragments of Shattered Dreams Hurt So Much (But You're the Only One I Need to Heal) (missed and extended scenes of Dark Cream comic by @zu-is-here)

Turns, Twists, and Paradoxes (X-tra Dark Cream story, an alternative ending/continuation of the very same Dark Cream comic) (with art by @zu-is-here and @yuriyuruandyuraart!)

Dreamtale_Not_Found (Aftermare (Geno/passive!Nightmare) slow-build story)

Each other's lifeline (Nightmare's story if the man's voice in the corrupted apples wasn't that bad)

I also have ao3 if you prefer to read there!

P. S. I have started a NOvember challenge, feel free to participate! It's never too late to take care of yourself, as a human and as a creator, so if you'd like, please say YES to NOvember! Like, reblog, create!

61 заметка - опубликовано 11 октября 2022 г.

Each other's lifeline

Notes

Are you excited? I sure am! I love this series quite a lot, after all.

Do be careful, there're some self-esteem issues and self-deprecation here. One word: Nightmare. Doesn't need any explaining.

。。。

First steps

Nightmare vaguely remembers coming around a few more times, just for a few seconds at a time. He couldn't hear or see anything, and the darkness — or lack of any stimuli at all — didn't help him stay conscious, he supposes. That, and the kind person said something about him needing his sleep, saving strength?..

"Me? Kind? You're so messed up, kiddo, you've no idea…" they respond immediately, almost as if they waited for him to think something. Anything.

"I was," the voice confirms. "Not much to do without your consent. It's your body I possess after all. The negativity wants some action though, so not sure I'd be able to resist much longer. You're the warrior, not me."

The warrior?.. What are they talking about? It's just him. Weak, stupid, worthless him. He couldn't even do one job right. Now all's lost 'cause of him.

"Hey, none of that! From what I gathered from your memories, you're pretty amazing! You went through hell you didn't deserve yet never once stopped to even wish your tormentors harm. And you love your brother more than anything. It's admirable how loyal you are. You're definitely a much better person than I ever was. You are intelligent, too. It's not your fault that no one taught you to stay away from the golden apples. The previous guardian could've warned you two, at least. She's the adult, you two are mere kids who didn't know better. We don't even know if it's a lost cause yet; Dream got that last golden apple, after all. And the Multiverse hasn't collapsed yet, so that's good, am I right? Maybe the balance is upset, but we don't even know that for sure. It'll be okay, I'm sure we'll figure something out. You always do. You're smart like that."

Nightmare thinks he would've blushed if he could. Maybe cried, just a little; it's the kindest words he's ever heard not from his brother, after all. He has all the reasons to do just that.

You really think we could do it?..

"If not us then who?" they ask in return. "But first we should do something about the rampaging negativity. It's getting restless. You think I could go to a universe or two spread some fear and chaos?"

They really could just go and do whatever they want, now that Nightmare has no means to access his own body — or what's left of it, anyway. Instead they decide to stay and ask permission. To communicate. It's… exhilarating, somewhat. Nightmare's never been given the choice before. Even if it's not much of a choice this time — either he goes with the voice's plan or the negativity takes hold of the both of them, which is… less than desirable. Its mindless cruelty would destroy the last remnants of hope they have. No, they can't afford to lose control even for a moment. It's a team effort.

"Damn right it is! I won't let you down, kid. Promise."

It's so weird to share every thought with someone he barely knows… How does it even work? Nightmare can't hear their thoughts, after all.

"No idea. Magic, I guess, and maybe something to do with me being the one in control. Maybe, if you were the one controlling the body, I would be the one with all my thoughts out in the open? Although I do hear you quite distantly, if you don't concentrate on getting the message to me. It's mostly background noise."

Good to know. It means if Nightmare ever gains control back, he likely wouldn't be too distracted by the voice. As great as their company is.

"Aw, I like you too, kid! And I'm rooting for you there. As nice as it is to have the ability to walk and talk back, it's your body, and you're very much alive to have it. To be honest, some part of me hoped you wouldn't make it after all; then I'd have a body of my own…" Anxiety and pain pierce through Nightmare's mind; do they really want him gone? "Stop that! Don't get me wrong, I just… it's hard being a tree after being a human, you know? And I'm really not all that kind. Or nice. Or… good in general. I'm a selfish piece of crap, you see?"

It feels like they want to continue that string of thought, but Nightmare doesn't let them. You helped me, he thinks in the smallest of voices. Possibly saved my life. So no. I don't see.

They laugh; it's a light-hearted, warm kind. "You are obviously a sweetheart. How those jerks didn't see it is beyond me. They got what they deserved though. Now's your turn."

What do you mean?

"Freedom, of course! Not complete, you're stuck with the negativity for now, but… Even that's not so bad. We're strong now, you know? Can do whatever we want, as long as the negativity is satisfied. And we're about to find out what we need for that. So, am I to go cause some havoc? You in for a ride, kid?"

There's no going back, Nightmare thinks, as confidently as he can, might as well go forward. Let's do it.

"Great! I don't have a certain plan yet, but I can feel the negativity from the worlds around ours so that's something. Probably might help with moving around?.. No idea yet. What do you think?"

Hm. Let me think.

The negativity of the other worlds, they say?.. Perhaps they could indeed use it. As a road, maybe? Or a beacon of sorts. Something that shows the way. It's amazing that they might be able to travel the worlds, especially considering Nightmare's never been far from the Tree, ever. The mere idea is fascinating, even though he wouldn't be able to see or hear anything. One day he would, and that's what he chooses to focus on. The future isn't all dark. There's something to look forward to.

I think you could try pulling the negativity. Not too hard, just enough for it to show itself for you to follow its path, Nightmare finally concludes. If that doesn't work, they'll just try something else. If only things always were this easy as they are with this person…

"Worth trying at least. Let me just… oh."

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61 заметка - опубликовано 17 июля 2022 г.

Мой пост №1 в 2022

Turns, Twists, and Paradoxes

Notes

Bet you wanted to hear from Dream or, if he's still not available, Cross. Or Nightmare, wouldn't that be interesting? But alas, everyone's busy either having their world torn apart, or trying to help collect the pieces of said shattered world, or investigating! So, here, have Killer (and Ccino's cats) instead :3

。。。

Chapter 2

The voice, Killer thinks, absent-mindedly petting one of Ccino's cats. How interesting.

Killer knows voices. Killer's familiar with voices. Every time he makes a decision he hears them — the two devils sitting not on his shoulders but inside his head.

It’s all in his head.

It’s just that boss said it like in their case the voice has its own consciousness.

To be honest, Killer would like to say he's familiar with that as well. But it's foolish to deceive himself; Chara is but an embodiment of his own darkness. A part of himself, conveniently taken another form in his consciousness.

After all, it's all in their heads.

Purrincess, who lied quietly on Killer's lap and purred loudly just a moment ago, dodges his palm out of the blue, bites his finger — gently, not at all painfully; almost a «thank you» — and goes away. Doesn't stop purring though. Killer watches her go, and his soul is full of something resembling fondness; and when the cat disappears around the corner, he shrugs and gets up from the floor. Stretches till his bones crack.

It seems he has to find something else to do.

He doesn't want to go downstairs; there's Ccino, and he's working. Take-away only though: boss asked for silence as soon as they got back here. Not that it would stop Killer, it's more of an excuse than anything. If he admits the truth at least to himself, he simply doesn't know what to make of Ccino and how to behave around him.

Their first meeting was… strange, to put it mildly. No more than what's happened not too long ago, a few hours at most. But strange. Boss didn't comment his choice in any way — he doesn't have to, but curiosity is Killer's weakness, — and Ccino merely asked what he can do despite his astonishment and fear, so apparent in his trembling voice and sockets wide open. Got them bandages and gave them sanctuary.

Killer took a coach in the living room. He doesn't mind sharing if a cat — sometimes a few — would like to lie down there.

It turns out boss has his own room in this house — only half-habitable, since the first floor is a coffee shop. Apparently Ccino looks after it in boss' absence, carefully as possible — maintains order but doesn't touch personal possessions, as many of them as there are. Killer knows by experience that boss wouldn't accept anything less, as well as wouldn't leave his wherever. Killer's glanced at the bedroom itself once or twice and haven't seen anything of interest but the shelves cluttering the walls and full of various tomes. It'd be a ridiculous lie to tell Killer's not curious to know what part of boss' collection is relocated here — or what Ccino did to deserve such trust.

Or, for example, why he's still (relatively) okay, even though he's obviously known Nightmare for a while and boss isn't known for his mercy. What kind of demons does this version of Sans have, so helpful and gentle, that it has attracted attention of the king of negativity himself?

There's certainly something intriguing about this Ccino. Killer loves riddles, although he's not sure yet how to start solving this one. There's seemingly no rush — it looks like boss is here to stay, and Killer's by his side. Killer's going to follow Nightmare everywhere, as long as he's allowed. This choice has been made a long time ago.

With a light, inaudible steps Killer exits the living room, goes downstairs and finally enters the backyard enclosed with a short wooden fence covered with ivy.

Or whatever it is that creates this distinctive atmosphere of coziness and warmth, where anyone would belong. Feel at home.

It’s been a long while since Killer has felt anything like this. He's not sure how to deal with it.

He wonders if boss feels it too. But Killer wonders about Nightmare a lot and doesn't get many answers. He doesn't mind. There was a time when he had to pay a lot more than unsatisfied curiosity to stay by boss' side. And that didn't matter either.

The sun warms but doesn't blind. There's a cat resting on the wide swing, Bar Cat — it's impossible not to recognise him among the other residents of this place — his short white fur, covered by smallest black spots that form patterns, wouldn't allow to mistake him for anyone else. Bar lies curled up in a ball, hiding his nose under a paw, so Killer can't see neither a spot on his cheek nor his ever-changing irises but he knows they are there nonetheless.

Killer weightlessly comes closer, sits on the other half of the swing as carefully as possible; Bar Cat wiggles his ear but otherwise doesn't react, doesn't even open his eyes. A success in Killer's books.

Suddenly Killer realises he's actually smiling — barely, not at all his usual grin, wide, laughing and not really sincere. He reaches out to Bar, puts his hand on his back but doesn't pet — Bar doesn't like it when they're petting him. Just holding him is okay though; here, he's purring through the drowsiness… Good.

Maybe Killer has really lacked this kind of small, warm accomplishments.

As if… as if Papyrus…

No, Killer won't think about it. He refuses. There's a cat version of one of his — former? — enemies, and Bar Cat's not easy to approach or please, so Killer's just going to engoy his little win. No memories.

None at all.

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223 заметки - опубликовано 16 октября 2022 г.

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lordalastorhartfelt · 2 months

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My Alastor Headcanons:

⚠️ potential spoilers - beware⚠️

tw: mild profanity, deal making, manipulative

He has beautiful cursive handwriting but can't print for shit. Figured he wanted to practice his penmanship while writing scripts for his broadcasts, both pre-hell and present.

Is willing to listen to any song at least once, even if not jazz. Will 100% hold it against you if he hates it, though. Expect a lecture of everything he did not like about it. If, in turn, he likes it, it just might end up on the radio one day.

Isn't touchy himself. However, he accepts the respectful acts of affection from his closest friends and most trusted familiars.

This man has probably tried on a corset or two in his life.

If he has a tail, it's well hidden if not having been removed. It would give away the emotions that he "doesn't have" otherwise.

Might have started helping the hotel for selfish endeavors at first, but is actually growing fond of everyone and takes less and less pleasure in their shortcomings as they're starting to reflect himself.

Politely rude to everyone he deems as inferior :)

Has a busy schedule (doing Lilith knows what) but regularly makes time for tea.

Once had someone he deemed very special to his life but has spent so much time in hell, he has lost their memory or moral impact. (not his mom. mom always reigns surprume to every soul to ever grace his path.)

Doesn't like lucifer for many reasons, even some self loathing and projection of his own in there. Perhaps is because he can mask his emotions better? or maybe it's because of the reputation rivalry? who knows for sure

Doesn't appreciate assumptions that damage his character, will reveal truths or half truths to steer rumors in his favor.

Platonic acts of love will actually make him reminiscent of his past life and grow his own affinity towards them to a degree. Buy him a coffee just how he likes it, compliment his radio show genuinely, hell run a few errands for him. He will repay your services in his own way, whether it be doing the the same for you during outings, providing gifts of things you've been wanting, or offering his retro advice on things.

Is protective of Charlie, at first to protect his own endeavor, but grows to actually enjoy her shenanigans. He finds the entertaining and sometimes even endearing of a sorts, even when they fail.

still a walking grim reaper, just chooses to reserve his anger for those who truly deserve it. Hell has a way of making "karma" come around far more quickly these days.

Makes deals but will let them either destroy themselves on their own, or respectfully carry out the end of the bargain. Their choice, literally.

+ Is not one for forcing deals. However, he can be persuasive if he is offering one. Just don't defy the agreement, and everything is smooth sailing (mostly) :)

Considers Husk as a genuine friend, even if it's only because of the restraints of their deal. He can't defy him and is reliably around. Maybe Husk is even his closest friend because he has to be loyal to him regardless of personal morals or feelings.

Rosie is his oldest friend. Perhaps they met when he first came to hell? or was one of the first to admire his actions/mannerisms.

I think that's enough for now.. I could think of these all day. Sorry if any of this isn't correct to canon al. He's a mystery, really, and none of this has much to do with the actual show. Thanks for reading ☀️

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #the radio demon #headcanon

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casualjacobwrites · 8 months

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FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt #6 - Ring

Going back to some Urianger/WoL (Pasha Silverblade) for this. In game there is a necklace that looks like a chain of flowers. I'm too lazy to log in and find the name of it, but she always has this necklace glamoured to represent them. Mild spoilers for Shadowbringers here. Takes place during patch 5.3.

I think later I'm going to do a master post of all my characters with screenshots and short descriptions of each. I'm also going to work on making some RP contacts around here, Discord, and/or in game. Anyway, back to the challenge!

Word Count: 816

Rings were impractical, or so Pasha had said once upon a time. It came up in a conversation with Urianger who had noted that she kept her hands free of jewelry. She replied with a lengthy explanation of how easily a ring could catch on her lance or armor. There were some rather gruesome descriptions of lost digits, infections, and entire layers of skin and muscle being peeled like popotoes. At the end of their talk, Urianger wasn't sure if he had been enlightened, disgusted, or a bit of both. Nonetheless, he had learned something important about the woman who had won a place in his heart. As far as gifts were concerned, a ring wouldn't do.

After many years spent on The First, Urianger had learned more than his fair share of magic from the fae of Il Mheg. One spell in particular could preserve flowers for an indefinite period of time. The pixies tended to use it when weaving colorful crowns or other such artistic endeavors. While Pasha worked with the Crystal Exarch and Beq Lugg to secure passage back to The Source for the Scions, Urianger used his free time to put his knowledge to use. With the aid of some of the pixies—who, admittedly, hindered and helped in equal measure—he picked the finest blossoms to weave into a small necklace into which he poured a small amount of aether to keep them from ever wilting.

When he was done, one observant pixie exclaimed, “I recognize these flowers. They're the same ones we planted in your bed chambers!”

Amid much giggling from his fae friends, Urianger's cheeks grew warm. He did his best to maintain his customary stoicism. “Are they? Mayhap it is a happy coincidence.” It was a complete lie, but there was no force on either The First or Eorzea to get him to admit the source of the flowers was the exact reason he chose them. The memories of the Warrior of Light's first night in Il Mheg were never far from his mind. He only hoped she would recognize the flowers for what they were and would understand his intent.

When at long last Pasha came to his residence in Il Mheg to tell him it was time to return home, he took the opportunity to pull her aside to offer his gift. For a long moment she stared at the necklace in silence. Her lack of response worried him and he began to panic that he'd somehow erred.

“Is it not to thy liking? Or is it too much? I could—” His words were cut off as she threw herself at him with enough force to cause him to stumble backward. She clung to him in a fierce embrace while burying her face into his neck. Soon after he thought he could feel the dampness of her tears on his skin.

“It's perfect,” Pasha said, her voice wavering.

“Oh.” He ran his hands up and down her back to soothe her, confusion settling in. “Then why dost thou weep?”

Pasha pulled away enough to look at his face. Her expression showed she was as confused as him. “Because I could lose you. All of you. The auracite might not hold you, or what if something happens when I cross back into The Source? What if it shatters?”

Urianger smiled and tugged her towards him to kiss her forehead. “I have the utmost confidence in our comrades' designs. Furthermore, I know thou will move the heavens to ensure thy companions' safe return. For all thy past deeds, this trivial event will be least among them.”

Pasha's hands squeezed his shoulders. She tilted her head back to press her lips to his. “Will you help me put it on?”

With steady hands, he clasped the necklace to her neck. Afterward he couldn't resist the urge to slide his arms around her waist and kiss the nape of her neck. He held her for several long moments while she rested her hands atop his. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if this would be the last time he held her. Despite his gift for prophecy, he had no inkling as to what awaited them upon their return to The Source, assuming he and the other Scions' souls and memories survived the journey.

“Whatever occurs, thou wilt need only to see the flowers upon thy neck to remember my fondness for thee and the happy memories thou hast given me. Should I fall, know that I will wait for thee upon the shores of the Aetherial Sea.”

Sniffling, Pasha squeezed his hands in hers. “I will drag you back if I have to.” He smiled at the conviction on her words.

“Aye, I have no doubt my lady will alter the very course of the stars.”

In all of history Urianger felt that truer words had never been spoken.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #CasualJacob's writing

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maroonghoul · 8 months

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Horror Movies I watched: August 2023

Bodies Bodies Bodies Well, if Rian Johnson had a plan to make the next Benoit Blanc mystery a take on And Then There Were None, he might as well scrap it now.

I'm sorta in the middle of an Agatha Christie kick, so this was extra fun, even though, mild spoilers, it almost plays like a deconstruction of her mysteries. Also, despite having a young cast with a somewhat similar premise, this movie also plays like the Anti-Scream. In that franchise, we follow a group of friends; one coming in with baggage and the others gaining them the longer they survive. Only to find whatever problems they're dealing with this time is "solved" by removing the bad apples of the group when they reveal themselves. That might be why the first one, and the fourth one to a lesser extent, are still considered the scariest; the culprits there are someone Sidney knows longer then in any of the other movies, so the betrayal hits harder. That might sound like a slam, but to be fair, a reason why Scream had such a great track record on this is that it's killers are, more often then not, a different variety of compellingly written privileged assholes and all the returning cast are portrayed likable enough for us to consider them good people.

But here, it's not so simple. The good friends don't outnumber the bad this time. Heck, the two newcomers you can make the argument are the only ones who come the closest to being innocent by a wide margin. All the trauma and hurt this group has concocted up until the events of the movie were not gonna go away by ousting the worst one. (They even literally tried that and it didn't stop anything). The best solution would've been to dissolve this friend group completely, at least for a while, but that was not on the table.

Getting back to the Christie comparisons; sure in her stories, everyone has a secret and somewhat of a reason to kill, but once the one who finally acted on that is revealed, everyone else spontaneously gets a happy ending, regardless of all previous deaths. Granted, And Then There Were None's original ending was an exception, but in a strange way, revealing the mastermind to the audience at least left them leaving satisfied regardless of everything else.

But here, once again, these characters don't even get that. It's bad enough they don't have a Benoit Blanc, Hercule Poirot type to make this easier for them (Though I would love to see what an earnest Gen Z version of that archetype would be). To make it worse, all of them are actively trying to be that, but failing miserably because they're all, except Bee,

1. coked up

2. paranoid

3. inexperienced

4. sick of their friends

5. did I mention coked up?

With the final killer reveal being a textbook example of being completely satisfactory by being completely unsatisfactory. The grand reveal was anything but. Actual parodies of this genre wish they could've nailed this.

You would think with how I described all this, I would hate this move or think less of the murder mystery type stories it's mocking, but far from it. It's not my new favorite movie, but I'm glad I saw it. Sure, there's a lot of skewering Gen Z, but I could argue you could've told this story with any generation, with a few tweaks. It's because it's main point is, well, the cozy locked room mystery unfolding in today's world would not be nearly as neat as Christie made it look. It could be fun, but it's not a solution to all your problems. If anything, it's the exact opposite because, well people you know are dying. And it's even worse when reality ensues.

It's a good deconstruction. Though that doesn't mean it should be the end of the genre. It's something the genre can build up from and consider. Maybe either discourage from getting too realistic or to do so with a point.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter Like Haunted Mansion, this is another horror film that's not fit to release in Summer! Sure, it's release date is close to when these events took place in the novel (August), but given the tone it went for, closer to Autumn would've felt appropriate.

Here's a tangent. I know I watch horror movies all year long and my enjoyment of each of them doesn't hinge too much on what time of year. But I have a theory that certain types of horror movies do well or are more successful depending on what time of year are released in conjunction to what type of movie they are. From what I observe, I would think the type of horror movies that do well in the summer evoke more summer imagery, like outdoor recreation, wilderness, lighter tone. Jaws and any of the Friday the 13th movies are a good example. This movie, while set mostly at the sea, has a far darker tone than anything considered fun, especially when compared to what the layman would think they'd get from "Dracula on a boat".

And sure, while going goofier like Renfield might've helped it's mass appeal, I appreciated that it honed more to the book's dour doomed tone. (And besides, we already got Renfield this year, so our bases are covered).

The ending's a bit weird. On one hand, I'm weirdly glad it didn't pull as many punches as to who would make it and who wouldn't as I thought they would. On the other, I'm not sure how the character who survives would factor into the next chapter of the story if at all. Would he take another characters place? Get killed off within 5 minutes? We divulge from the book even more? Then again, that's assuming there was ever a sequel in mind here, box office results be damned. So even my problem here isn't even an actual problem.

It's a simple fact that in the original, Dracula was not a sexy seductor with a silver tongue, but more of the creeper in the back you don't see most of the time. In a weird way, nakedness aside, this might be the most true to the book version of the character I have ever seen. Honestly, it's to the point where, while I'm fine with sympathetic, human vampires depicted in movies, I kinda want, if are more depictions of Dracula the character, more versions of him where he's the exception to that again; an unsexy, perverted, entitled, bastard. The type of vampire no other vampire would want to associate with, because they think he's a creep. Like I said, cover all our bases.

Wrong Turn (2021) I haven't seen any of the other movies in this franchise. It never really looked like my thing. Still, I heard good things about this one so I was curious.

As an avid nature walk visitor, this is pretty much my worst nightmare about what would happen if I ever leave the trail. Booby traps, Territorial cults, regressing to a more animalistic state; it's all here.

I'm not sure about it's attempt at class commentary; only one of the city folk comes off like an asshole, and only one of the mountain cultists, any who's not an extra, seems to not be evil. And the former is the white guy and the latter is the little girl, i.e. the exact one's you'd expect. I preferred how Pumkinhead handled this myself. Not only was the inciting incident a bit more morally grey in that it was an accident, but it was clear even some of the mountain folk in that one thought the retaliation went too far, even if they couldn't do anything.

It's a shame that the part where Matthew Modine being guided through the mountains by those two guides was so short. I would've loved a whole movie if that was our main plot. It was a bit refreshing.

Pearl Toldja I was planning to watch this after X last year.

First off, Man I miss saturated colors in film. It easily makes any shot look more visually interesting, even when it contains the most mundane things. Sure, it shows up in a lot of recent films I watched, but usually in films also set in dark place, so there's a lot of black too. Yeah yah, makes what color is there pops, but I missed when more then half the screen popped. Course I guess that makes me a sucker, because that makes when this film gets grosser as it goes along even worse. Now you can see every maggot on that pig!

If you put this on after X, without knowing exactly what type of horror movie it was going to be, what you expect? Another slasher? But that only really made sense because the previous movie was made in the style of the kind of horror movie fit for that setting. That would be out of place in this WW2 setting. Supernatural? Could fit, if you took hints from Dracula or Frankenstein (the latter one you can argue it sorta did, but it clearly wasn't the main inspiration). But a supernatural element wouldn't have added to the themes Ti West was tackling. Going for 1918 specifically could seem arbitrary, aside from a reason why all the extras had to have masks. But of course, once the audition started being a plot point along with the scarecrow scene, made it clear what West and Goth had in mind for this film alone, and not just as part of the trilogy as a whole.

Not only was the a complete dark inverse of the Wizard of Oz and psychological horror structurally like May or Taxi Driver, it's a sad commentary that even when filmmaking was new, when Hollywood was just starting up, the myth so many young folk, especially women, believed over the decades that if they could make it into movies, all their problems would be over. The movie offers the horrible idea that none of these dreams never had a chance, no matter the time, not even when Hollywood was new. Even before the idea of a "Star" was a thing or a gimmick, men like the ones holding this audition was looking for their idea of one rather than actually help someone become one. This wasn't a good dream gone bad; it was always been a con. There's never been anything over the rainbow.

I have more to say, but I think I'll save it for MaXXXine when that comes out, so I can say it about the trilogy as a whole. Of course, now the question is what kind a movie would that be. As affecting as this was, is it strange to say I'll be a little disappointed if it was just this movie again, but in the 80s? I don't think West and Goth would've made a trilogy if it that's all that would happen.

Well, that's all for now. We're now pretty much in spooky season, so my yearly marathon is coming up real soon. It's going to be exciting!

#the last voyage of the demeter #wrong turn #pearl 2022 #Bodies Bodies Bodies #support the wga

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paulisweeabootrash · 1 year

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Review: Love in Hell

Happy Halloween! I bring you a tale from the underworld that I have been meaning to get around to talking about for years but my copy of this manga has been in storage and buying a second copy seemed silly. But I finally have it again!

Love in Hell (manga, 2011)

Volumes read: 3 (whole series - omnibus)

Rintaro has died unexpectedly from a fall while drunk and found himself in another world full of magic... unfortunately for him, this is not an escapist isekai, but just a traditional afterlife. It is one of the many hells where people go between reincarnations.

Rintaro, you see, is an asshole, and he is basically unaware that there's anything wrong with him. Upon meeting his newbie demonic overseer Koyori, who tells him where he is, he is totally dismissive and pokes her horns to see if they're real. When she reacts... uh... in an unexpected way, is he embarrassed? Does he back off or apologize? No, he tries to force himself on her, and is immediately shown what happens to people who try to pull that crap in the underworld by Koyori's senpai Momone and her assigned sinner, Yukihiko, whom she has recently relieved of his skin for a similar offense. Really, this first chapter is the perfect intro to the story of Love in Hell because it is a sample of what to expect throughout. If an unsympathetic protagonist doing and experiencing bad things is something you can't or don't want to look at, you know right away to stay away.

For those of you still interested, let's proceed. Koyori was so shy meeting Rintaro because she is brand new to the sinner-punishing business. And yes, it's a business. The demonic economy runs on a currency, "vexes", which overseers earn based on their assigned sinner's suffering. And the pay rate is outrageously low. Koyori has to stab Rintaro in the eyes and then smash his head open with a club to earn enough vexes to buy him a pair of misprinted novelty boxers as a replacement for her initial effort at clothing him (tying her iPod around his waist as a loincloth). Rintaro promptly gets to work... looking for ways to avoid punishment, find alternate methods of earning vexes, and turn his stay in this hell into something he can tolerate. Understandable, sure, but also a bad move on his part.

See, hells are like holes: when you find yourself in one, you should stop digging, and by the end of the first volume, he has ended up with a larger load of sins to work off than he arrived with. Meanwhile, he gets to know some of the other denizens, both demon and human, and starts to get some perspective. Rintaro starts to sympathize with at least some of the demons, and to learn more about them, including that there are some things that are out of bounds even for them. It also begins to sink in that he hasn't been a good person, but that he also hasn't been too bad compared to so many other people. He's in a relatively mild hell, actually, and the truly heinous and unrepentant are thrown in the abyss to suffer at the hands of much more extreme demons.

However, working off his karmic debt is still not worth it to him to continue suffering, especially after he does something that manages to lose the little bit of atonement progress he gained, and he continues to search for another solution. And as you might have guessed from the title, he develops romantic feelings for Koyori in the meantime. But he still needs money, both for himself and to pay back an unexpected kindness from another sinner, so he ends up taking jobs that demons want kept quiet. These range from gathering a dangerous aphrodisiac plant to letting a newly-trained demon practice basic punishments on him. But then, one of those clients restores the lost traumatic memory (see "Content" section for spoiler of what the memory is, since traumatic is the right description) that shows Rintaro the real reason he is in hell, and just as we get this big reveal... the plot trips over itself.

Just as he comes back out of the chapter of flashback, Rintaro dumps exposition for a few pages that really feels like it would have gone better in natural conversation. This wraps up in a scene that, in Yukihiko's words, "is so sweet it's hard to remember we're in hell", but is immediately interrupted by the surprise return of a particularly obnoxious sinner introduced early on. The sinner kidnaps Koyori, hands her over to one of the truly deranged demons of the abyss, and a dramatic love confession, gesture of self-sacrifice, and deus ex machina ensue, resulting in Enma Himself wiping away Rintaro's remaining need for atonement and granting him the wishes to (1) send the person he wronged straight to heaven and (2) become a demon. All in the last chapter.

Honestly, especially since Rintaro and Koyori's relationship is based on them basically being each other's first real adult romantic opportunity, this feels like there should be more development here. There just needs to be some breathing room between Rintaro's realization that Koyori is the first person he has ever opened up to and a dramatic declaration of love, you know? It feels like this was rushed or edited down to be completed in three volumes when it was originally paced for four (or more?). I will freely admit this is toward the high end of the Shit scale before we even get to the Weeb Ass Shit Scores just because of that massive last-chapter stumble. There's a difference between "trashy fun" and "just unambiguously unenjoyable", though, and this is mostly on the fun side for me, so maybe check it out next time you need some more demons in your reading schedule.

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W/A/S: 5/7/6/!

Weeb: I think most "foreign" aspects of this story are explained or easy to grasp, but there are also passing untranslated things like "senpai" and extremely Japanese tropes like the obligatory peeping in a hot spring scene that will make non-otaku audiences go "what?".

Ass: This is certainly not something I would want people reading over my shoulder. The demons do not wear much clothing, the humans they're assigned to tend to wear even less, and although sexualized nudity isn't that common, you can bet it takes up a whole page when it does show up. However, sexual content is mostly used for gross-out gags (sometimes regrettably homophobic ones) or examples of what not to do.

Shit (writing): Ugh, several points of shit just for the last chapter. Otherwise, it has some pluses. Although Rintaro's character arc hinges on a "recovered memory" epiphany, a trope I don't really appreciate, he is still interesting to watch across the story because he changes gradually and unevenly, and it's not hard to see that he would have responded very differently if the big reveal had happened earlier, perhaps lashing out more instead of self-reflecting. Koyori gains confidence and maturity as she goes from a stammering new hire to the mastermind behind how the big reveal was revealed, but I wish we had seen more of her side of the story actually play out. The author also leaned too heavily on a recurring joke that masochists like being in hell, I think. It gets old fast.

Shit (other): The characters and their environment are distinctive and consistent, and although the "demon = kinky" trope of many demons' clothes is not at all original, I feel like a bit more effort has been put into making their outfits, uh, make sense than I've seen with other "kinky demons" before. Also, to me, the trick of remembering an event from a previous chapter by sticking a copy of the panel or page in a thought bubble is admittedly clever but also kinda lazy.

Content: Warnings for violence of the regular, twisted, and sexual varieties. I hope I've made it clear that if you don't want to see depictions of demons punishing people in ways that range unpredictably from graphically horrible to slapstick-but-still-horrible, nor what sinners did to receive those punishments, this is not for you. I also didn't want to spoil what the big reveal is, but if you're already thinking this isn't for you, you should probably be aware of it. It turns out Rintaro is in hell for abandoning his childhood friend when he saw that her father was both physically and sexually abusing her, which set off a whole cascade of events including his total failure to form new friendships and her suicide. I'm kind of surprised this manga has only an "Older Teen" rating, but I guess Seven Seas doesn't think it's quite extreme enough in either sex or violence to get "Mature".

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Stray Thoughts:

Maybe the author has fleshed out what he didn't get to the first time, since there's a spinoff from another sinner's POV, so maybe I'll check that out too? Oh, nope, from this description, it sounds like it's a completely unconnected story. Damn.

It's odd that souls who have worked their way out of this hell can go to heaven, since that isn't traditionally part of Buddhist cosmology, so I don't know whether this is an example of Western influences on afterlife-related story tropes or just a loose translation choice.

#manga review #weeaboo trash #love in hell

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 years

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I know you said you wanted some double feature requests so how about a Harry Gardner x reader where the reader knows that Harry takes the pills because he told them and they make him "protein shakes" to tide him over in between kills but they're worried that he's not getting the nourishment he needs so they start putting some of their own blood into the drinks and when he finds out he immediately gets worried for their health so it's kind of angsty but ends in fluff? Sorry if that's too weird

It's not weird at all! Harry is so fine, I'd make him a blood smoothie any day-

Protein Shakes (Harry Gardner x reader)

Warnings: Spoilers for double feature, dark themes, discussion of the black pills' side effects, accidental finger cutting, intentional finger/hand cutting, mild cursing, mentions of blood, unappetizing description of a "protein shake", reader is a simp for Harry (aren't we all)

You and your husband, Harry, moved to Provincetown during the winter so he could work on his writing. He didn't have the inspiration he needed to finish the pilot he needed to, so when a local legend offered him a pill he guaranteed would help, he jumped at the opportunity.

Ever since he'd started taking the pill, however, he'd had this insatiable lust for human blood, which he quelled a couple of times a week by killing some random pedestrian he came across who wouldn't be missed. You gave yourself the job of making sure he was fed in between kills, not only because you worried about him, but so that he wouldn't wake up one day and start looking at you like his next meal.

Once a day you would fix him a snack, a protein shake if you will, mixed with blended steak (and the occasional roadkill). One morning, you accidentally cut yourself while you were chopping up the beef. Not wanting to have to go to the store to get 10 more packages of steak, you stuff it in the blender anyway, making sure to get yourself a bandaid after.

After you poured the bloody concoction into a mug, you walked into the living room to see Harry furiously typing away at his laptop.

"Breakfast," you say as you put the mug on the coffee table beside him, lightly kissing him on the head.

He took a quick sip before glancing at you and smiling. "Thanks sweetie," he said as he continued working.

That was odd, you thought as you made your way back into the kitchen. He would usually ignore you when you brought him breakfast, let alone thank you for it.

Then you remembered how some of your blood got on the meat that was put in the blender. Realizing that having actual blood in his diet might make him happier, you decided to make it a normal thing.

It had been a couple of weeks since you'd started putting your blood in his morning meals, and Harry seemed fairly happier: he'd started thanking you when you would bring him his meals, and he was snapping at you less than usual.

On your side, however, things wouldn't doing so great. The constant blood letting from you had started to take its toll. What started as a small finger nick that was just deep enough to draw blood had turned into you cutting open a line down your finger long enough to where you couldn't close it properly without it hurting.

The whole thing came to a head one day when Harry walked in on you cutting open the inside of your palm.

"What are hell you doing?"

You turned around just in time to see him running towards you. He took the knife from you and put it on the counter before wrapping your hand in a dish towel.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he rummaged around looking for the first aid kit. You could tell how much self restraint it took for him to not start sucking the blood from your wound, and it made you feel bad for putting him in a situation like that in the first place.

After he found the first aid kit, he silently started cleaning your wound.

"Are...are you mad?" You quietly asked, looking at the ground.

He sighed, throwing the dirty towel into the trash can as he began to bandage your injury. "No, I'm not mad, I'm just...confused. Why would you do something like that to yourself?"

You hesitated before answering. "I did it for you."

"What?" His head shot up, a surprised look on his face. "Why?"

"It's just...I know how difficult it can be for you, having to drink blood substitutes rather than the real thing. The first time it happened, I cut myself purely by accident. But when I saw how happy it made you to have real human blood, I started to do it more often. I guess....I just wanted you to be happy."

His features soften as he looked at you.

"Baby, I'm already happy, because I have you. I know I don't say it often, but I appreciate you and everything you do for me, and I never want you to feel like you have to do something that hurts yourself in order to make me happy, okay?"

You slowly nodded as he finished bandaging your hand. When he was done, he leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss.

"I love you," he whispered across your lips.

"I love you too," you said as you softly kissed him back.

#american horror story #ahs #american horror story imagines #ahs imagines #american horror story imagine #ahs imagine #american horror story x reader #ahs x reader #ahs double feature #ahs red tide #ahs double feature imagines #ahs double feature imagine #ahs double feature x reader #harry gardner #harry gardner imagines #harry gardner imagine #harry gardner x reader #harry gardner angst #harry gardner fluff

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canislupus-exe · 2 years

Text

Hours on the Clock | eddie munson

SPOILER FREE

fandom | Stanger Things

character | Eddie Munson

reader | (Henderson) she/her (he ver.)(they ver.)

requested | @theimaginationgotmegood

warnings | mild angst with a happy ending

word count | 3,075

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | Could I request a Henderson|SisterxEddie or Steve imagine where she helps him study/apply for something cuz Dustin begged her to and she has pretty tensed neck/shoulders and he massages it for her. After that they become friends and he keeps on easing her pain, like whenever they are together (cuz she‘s the kid‘s ride) and it‘s just become normal for everyone. But she understands a joke from him wrong and becomes insecure, pushes him away until he confronts her and then just fluff maybe? This would be amazing!

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

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“So please enlighten me on what was so important that you had me waiting out here for…” You paused to check your watch. “47 minutes.”

“We were talking with Eddie about the hellfire club,” Dustin replied. You raised your eyebrows.

“I thought hellfire was on Fridays.” You said. Dustin sighed and dropped his head against the headrest.

“(Y/n), aren’t you in English honors?” Mike asked. Your eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror so you could see his face.

“Yes?” You questioned. Dustin looked over his shoulder at Mike and then back at you.

“And you tutor on the side for money!” He exclaimed. You sighed, seeing exactly where he was going with this.

“I tutor freshmen on the side for money so they're better prepared for their classes, not seniors who flunked two years in a row.” You replied. Lucas laughed.

“She’s got you there Dustin.”

“(Y/n), please. I’ll do anything. Consider all your chores for the next month done, alright?” He pleaded. You raised your eyebrows and glanced at him from the side of your eyes.

“Seriously? It’s that important that I tutor this guy?” You ask. Dustin nodded feverishly.

“Yes.” He deadpanned. You sighed.

“Alright. I’ll fit him into my schedule. But you better hold up your end of the deal.” You said as you flicked his hat downward. He smiled.

“I will, I promise. And thank you.”

>><<

“Your Henderson’s sister, right?”A man with long hair asked. Eddie Munson. You’d seen him around school but never opted to talk to him.

“In the flesh.” You replied. He stepped out of the frame so you could walk in, to which you hesitantly did so.

“Um… Dustin tells me your failing-“

“Horribly. Crashing and burning in fact. Which is where you come in Henderson-“

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).” You reply. He smiles.

“(Y/n) Henderson. Pleasure. As I was saying, I’m in dire need of assistance. In fact, the hellfire club depends on it.”

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. You looked up at him and gave a halfhearted laugh.

“Yeah sorry. It’s… It’s nothing.” You reply, waving him off. You doubted he wanted to listen to you talk about your problems.

“No no please, enlighten me. I mean, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together so we might as well share our deepest darkest secrets.” He said as he leaned his fin on the palm of his hand. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he spoke. It was odd but… charming.

“And how does that make you feel?” He said, staring at you intently, which only made you laugh harder.

“Oh come on. I pour my heart out to you and you say that. What a dick.” You reply. He smiles.

“You’re right, I do apologize m’lady. However could a mere court jester such as myself make it up to the likes of you?” He asked. You snickered, but soon after felt another twinge of pain shoot down your neck and across your shoulders. You groaned again, pressing your fingers into the places it felt the tightest.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a masseuse as well as a jester, would you?” You asked, running with whatever bit he had going. He shrugged.

“I dabble.” He replied. You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him.

“You’re serious?”

“These fingers aren’t just good for playing guitar you know. Let me give it a shot.” He said, wiggling his fingers at you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair.

“I-I mean if you want to give it a go, by all means.” You replied. You couldn’t help but ask yourself how you managed to get here.

“Better?” He asked. You chuckled before sitting up straight.

“Um… Yeah actually. A-A lot better. I wasn’t expecting that.” You replied with a laugh. He places his hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“Such little faith in me.” He said with a smile. You shook your head.

“We’ve already burned through a quarter of our time together and I haven’t even started explaining anything. You’re a bad influence, Eddie Munson.” You said.

“In the flesh.”

>><<

“(Y/n), you’re early,” Eddie said as he opened the door to let you inside. You smiled and took your bag off, setting it where you normally did.

“Yeah, one of my regulars canceled cause he was sick so you get me for a little longer today.” You replied.

“Earth to (Y/n)? You didn’t check out on me did you?” He asked. You quickly glanced up before nodding. You didn’t know how you were going to salvage this.

“Oh yeah. I just remembered I was supposed to take Dustin out tonight though. A brother-sister bonding thing our mom is making us do.” You said, grabbing your bag from the floor. Eddie raised his eyebrows, taken aback by your sudden declaration. You began to walk toward his door to let yourself out.

“Okay, thank you, Ms. Henderson. Can you tell her to call me when she’s out? I have something important to tell her.” He asked. She said she’d relay the message to you and that was that. 8:00. 9:00. 10:00. 11:00. 12:00. And by 1:00 in the morning, he fell asleep by the phone, waiting on that call back that also never came.

Everything was fine one day and then totally fucked the next. He’d found himself falling for Henderson’s older sister and then suddenly you hate his guts? I mean, what were the odds of that happening?

“What the fuck!?” You shouted.

“Shhh! It’s just me!” He replied. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Eddie? W-What are you doing? And where’s the damn light?” You asked, fumbling around the wall to search for a switch.

“You know I’ve missed that laugh.” He said. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, glad it was shrouded by the darkness.

“Why have you been avoiding me (Y/n)?” He asked, his voice softer than you were used to. You frowned and looked at your feet.

“What? Sick of you? Why would I ever say that?”

“Exactly.”

“You were really sick?” You asked, almost too scared to hear the answer.

“W-wait seriously? That’s so corny.” You said. You couldn’t see it, but Eddie’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“You’re the one who cried all night cause you thought I said I was sick of you!” He retorted. You laughed before wrapping your arms around him, which he was taken aback by.

“I’ll never ignore you again Eddie Munson.” You said. He smiled down at you fondly, despite knowing you couldn’t see him. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned his chin on your head.

“You better keep that promise, (Y/n) Henderson.”

And you did.

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reesiereads · 2 years

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So. That pjo au??? I used to be obsessed with the series and would love to hear your takes on the au!! No pressure to respond :)

Ooo! I'd love to talk about it thank you for asking!

I already know this is gonna get long so read more:

Okay, so I've figured out parentage for just about everyone. However I mostly only have backstories and shit for SBI/Bench Trio/Las Navedas Crew so this will mostly be focused on them.

We'll go about this time line wise:

So Camp Half Blood is ran by Philza who's essentially in Chiron's place. I've set him as a centaur for the moment but honestly I might just make him a harpy or some other bird hybrid because having him be anything but a bird feels too weird. The 'Dionysis' in this scenario is gonna be Kristin who's a Goddess still, she's Hades and Persephone's second kid. She isn't always around but she's around enough that the campers are used to her. She can revive or kill anything living (which becomes very important later on).

I also should preemptively mention I've taken some liberties. For instance the 'three on a quest' thing doesn't exist and Satyr's aren't demigod protectors.

So my current 'timeline' starts with Techno showing up to the camp because he's the oldest of the current campers (19). When he shows up to camp though he's a literal baby, think Jason Grace kinda shit. Parent just said 'I aint dealing with this' and dropped him at the camp so Phil and Kristin raised him. It's a big reason why he's so strong now. Techno is a kid of Nemesis (if you want to know why I chose her or any of the other parents send me another ask cuz this is already gonna be hella long) and he doesn't really have any powers other then getting a mild strength boost when he's trying to get revenge.

Dream (Athena), George (Hypnos), Sapnap (Ares), Karl (Iris thought I might change it to Hecate) and Quackity (Tyche) all show up next. Don't have much to say about that. None of them rlly have backstories yet (though I do have their powers and shit done if you wanna ask me about those).

Punz, Purpled and Hannah show up next. Punz and Purpled are the only two I have at the current moment that are biological siblings. They're both kids of Nike about three years apart. Hannah is just a friend that's close enough to essentially be their sister (child of Demeter, obviously).

Now this next part is a little iffy but basically Techno is sent by Phil to go off and find Jack, cuz Jack Manifold is the only alive kid of one of the big three (child of Hades). This gets messy though because he ends up finding Niki (Nemesis), Wilbur (Apollo), Sally (Posidon), Fundy (Hermes), Tommy (Demeter), and Tubbo (Haephestus) on the same trip and has to somehow get them all back in one piece.

Spoiler alert: He doesn't manage it. Sally dies and Wilbur leaves pretty soon after they get back to camp because... well, man's is grieving and I need to show his death arc somehow without killing him (because I can't use the Kristin powers twice that's lame and I need them later).

Schaltt shows up after Wilbur leaves. He's a kid of Dionysis and long story short an ass, cuz this is modeled after dsmp right? I don't have it fully fleshed out but I know he gets together with Q for a bit and that relationship isn't super great and that he takes Tubbo and Fundy under his wing for a bit (which again, doesn't end super well). He dies in some super pathetic way at some point idk, who cares.

The fiancees also get together for a bit but end up breaking off for some reason I haven't decided yet. This only gets a mention because frankly I haven't fleshed it out and I'm not very focused on it.

Now we get to the fun parts.

Ranboo is a child of Aphrodite who shows up and gets taken under Techno's wing. Gets some training, makes friends with Tubbo and Tommy dunno poggers shit. He's a bit outcasted cuz he's... well, not a typical Aphrodite kid and also cuz man's still has his memory issues (not sure why he has them yet, might be trauma might be something else idk not super important as of now).

Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy go on a quest where they find Michael (Demeter) and Shroud (Athena). Ranboo and Tubbo get together for jokes at first until it isn't, you know Pog shit.

The Las Navedas crew (Quackity, Purpled, Fundy, Sam (Athena), Foolish (Apollo though might change to Hecate)) go on a quest for some reason or other. Dunno specifics but it's led up to cuz Fundy starts getting those prophetic skin demigod dreams and has to have George walk in his dreams to figure shit out cuz you know, Fundy's like 12 in this au and has no idea wtf is going on. But anyway they find Charlie (Athena) along the way so that's fun.

Wilbur comes back to camp which is shocking cuz everyone just kinda... assumed he was dead. Think of that scene in the fourth pjo book or whatever when Percy shows up from Ogigia and everyone is like "WE THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD" its like that.

Then to mirror the burger van arc Wilbur, Quackity, Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy are sent on a quest which I have actually planned out! For the most part anyway... I've planned Ranboo's arc, whatever same/dif.

Basically Ranboo is helping Wilbur and Quackity stop being idiots and get together, while in the process giving them shit therapy a la "I don't think your a bad person." It's fun. They meet his mom who's like "focus and love urself Jesus Christ," they meet Q's mom who tries to kill them in Las Vegas, Wilbur and Q get together finally, Ranboo dies to protect Tubbo it's a fun time. And Tommy is there because I want someone to call these dumbasses on their bullshit.

Anyway, so yeah, Ranboo's dead. Sam isn't an idiot here though (and Dream isn't evil) so we get revengers except Michael's find so they're just going to find Kristin in the underworld (cuz ofc she's gone when they need her) with Tommy and Wilbur to revive Ranboo. Tommy comes so I can do the fun "ig I like Ranboo or whatever" thing and Wilbur is there because I want him to be angsty about Sally. That's it, I just like torturing him, don't judge me.

Anyways this is just a gross generalization of everything and it's still like thirty paragraphs so... pls fkin send me more asks I want to talk about this more. Atm I want to write like just one shots for it that aren't in any particular order? Like I really want to do one for Techno and Ranboo going into their histories and parallels and shit. So... ye <3

#reesie rambles #dsmp #dsmp pjo au #cuz i want to talk about it more so it gets a tag #also if this doesnt make sense srry rfnogoreu #im basically just rambling #im planning on making playlists for each of the characters tho #so thats fun #i didnt rlly get into their backstories much #but they do exist!#if anyone wants to ask about those...

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

Note

Do you think you can come up with a scene out of the potential Ineffable Husbands x Adventure Husbands fic? I'd love to read something from it. (Or might it be an actual AO3 fanfic in the future?)

I can do a little scene for you guys here, though I'd like to see a bit more of atwi80d before I really focus on making a fanfic out of this au. Also, I wanna write a few more chapters of More Than What You Know as well, so I don't abandon it haha.

Summery: A boat trip gives the large group a break from the events of the past few days, and it gives Aziraphale and Crowley time to watch over the two look-alikes they've seem to have taken a shine to.

Warning: takes place after episode two, on the boat for the Suez Canal, mild spoilers, uses elements of my Guardian Angel au and that one ficlet of Will meeting Phileas on the train in Italy, Aziraphale is aware of his feelings for Crowley (and is somewhat aware that Crowley likes people who look like him) but can't act upon them because Heaven Is Always Watching (tm)

On with the fic!

"They're off to a start, it seems."

Aziraphale snapped out of his wandering thoughts, turning to the demon who approached him, standing in his usual spot next to him. They were on a ship, headed for Egypt, another spot in their long, long journey to travel the world.

They had arrived on it an hour ago, after a long, exhausting train ride. Aziraphale pondered briefly how much the damage to that train car would cost, considering they dismantled nearly everything of it for fuel for a two hour ride to save a child.

Yes, Crowley and Aziraphale each could have spared a miracle to help, but Phileas was so determined to make his plans work so that little boy would live a long and happy life, that the two supernatural beings joined in on the destruction. Crowley clearly had fun with it, even getting a few laughs out of everyone as he did.

It was rather nice that he had helped, though Aziraphale would never say that out loud. Crowley was talking to him again, but a lot of it was just centered on this Arrangement he dragged the demon into, they haven't spoken casually since he pulled Crowley into coming along for help.

And he had to admit, Crowley was willing to do so, he was curious of the bet, of the results, and of the awkward, quiet human that looked identical to him. Crowley had commented to Aziraphale during their first day of the trip that Phileas was like Crowley if Aziraphale was running around in his body.

What a bizarre thought, Aziraphale running about as Crowley.

But then again, he could just as easily say the same about the mysterious addition to the group.

Will Charity, who they met on the train the night before, seemed to have drawn himself towards Phileas quickly. Aziraphale didn't know him well, even though they both had ties to the British Museum, particularly in antiquities.

Yes, they had crossed paths before, but Aziraphale worked from home, Will ran off to do his job, to explore the world and keep artifacts and the like out of the hands of bad people. Aziraphale admired that, really, things should be left where they belong, unless given permission, of course.

After all, a few things in the collect at the museum were now in the bookshop, for their own safety with permission (and because Aziraphale knew they can never return home, so why not he hold onto them where they will last forever, right? Specifically a few scrolls and clay slabs that reference a wily redhead or a bumbling blond, yes?)

But because of their difference in their work, they didn't interact enough, but Aziraphale knew Will. Crowley seemed to have taken a shine to him, always the sort that drew attention to themselves in spectacular ways. The demon did have a soft spot for adventure stories, and Will was a walking example of one.

It also didn't pass Aziraphale by that he shared a similar face to Will, and Crowley was always drawn to that, Aziraphale had observed. He saw how Crowley was around Nero all those years ago.

Not that Aziraphale could talk, he had found himself, often, in the same circles as Casanova back in the day.

And now, it was probably a similar situation, as Crowley seemed to have found a new person to circle around. Will certainly was more of a fitting choice for him, but Aziraphale couldn't comment, he didn't want to get them into trouble.

He blinked, watching Crowley lean over the railing, looking down at the deck below. Aziraphale looked down as well, seeing that Phileas was sitting on a chair, with Will talking to him. The shorter of the two seemed to be telling a story, animated with his actions as Phileas listened with a rare look of delighted interest on his face.

It brought a small smile to Aziraphale's own, he had been so worried about his friend since last night, the man had been so tired, so sad, so emotionally beaten down from the humiliation he endured from people within his usual circle of society.

A harsh reality, and he wished that Phileas had been more eased into it rather than having it slapped in the face, but Crowley had spoken to Aziraphale later in the evening, a passing conversation. He had said he convinced Will to talk to Phileas, get him to speak to someone who knows the situation better than a bunch of rich bastards.

From what Aziraphale had seen the next day, Phileas had still been in a sad mood, but he had been a little better, a little more thoughtful, instead of lost in his mind.

Then he seemed to be in a more chance-taking mindset when the track was damaged, being clever and quick to see a solution. Will had commented to Crowley, within earshot of the angel, that Phileas had the makings of a true adventurer in him, he just had to figure out how to unlock it.

Aziraphale was proud of his personal human, watching as the brunet seemed to asked something with an excitement he hadn't seen since the balloon flight over the Alps. He smiled more, turning to Crowley.

"I think you're right, oh, I do hope that this becomes a friendship. Poor Phileas doesn't have many, and even then, they're terrible to him. I think it's really just myself and Ms. Fix's father, and possibly his old valet, but that poor man is a few books short of a full collection."

"Wouldn't hurt, but you're still his friend, don't worry. He still sees you as a guardian angel of sorts, helping him in the right direction." Crowley replied, eyes on the two below. "Will wants to do that too, I think we should let him help. You and I have traveled the world, but never like this, never a full trip around, but Will has experience."

Aziraphale couldn't help the twinge of something bitter in his heart at the tone in Crowley's voice when speaking of Will Charity, but he shouldn't let that bother him. Why even let it, he and the demon couldn't have anything more than what they had now anyway, and besides, Crowley was still mad about the holy water, he just knew it. Would explain the clipped conversations, being all business.

But then again, Crowley looked so relaxed right now, looking at the two humans with some sort of thoughtful look on his face. Maybe... maybe this was a sign that they could try to fix the damage that was-

"I'm gonna go see what Fix and Passerpartout are up to, keep an eye on 'em down there, angel. Ciao." Crowley was already off, making his way to another part of the ship, leaving the angel alone.

He sighed, his attention now on the water instead. Well, so much for that then.

And yet...

"He called me angel." Aziraphale whispered to himself, with just a smallest upward tug at his lips.

#john's drabbles #good omens extended universe #good omens #around the world in 80 days #the adventurer: the curse of the midas box #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #will charity #phileas fogg #will charity x phileas fogg

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