#i feel like i'm the only one whose heart will be broken reading this but stillll
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bad at love
Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.
pairing: jt compher x reader
warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)
word count: 4.9k
a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3
It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last.
It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you.
Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado.
If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’.
Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count.
It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way.
JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house.
The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?
You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid.
But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely.
Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you.
By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours.
Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes.
-
Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy.
At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level.
It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law.
Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it.
JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit.
It warms your heart.
So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate.
The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway.
The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander.
-
Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena.
Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell.
Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility.
The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier.
‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass.
He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp.
“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs.
“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”
Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy.
“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff.
JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”
Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.”
He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot.
“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”
“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”
You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”
Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.
Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces.
You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you.
Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16.
Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?
Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer.
He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move.
It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners.
The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy.
He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed.
If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire.
You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more.
He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper.
Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate.
You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently.
“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”
“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth.
“It’ll be worth the wait.”
And worth the wait it is.
-
It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices.
It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too.
It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you.
You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure.
It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other.
You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign.
Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan.
Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up.
-
A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed.
It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life.
There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie.
That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants.
“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is.
He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”
His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you.
“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed.
He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”
You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”
“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush.
“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss.
You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again.
He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth.
The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing.
“I need—“
Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body.
He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast.
Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs.
Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone.
There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises.
Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too.
The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths.
You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch.
“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him.
It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better.
It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips.
Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him.
He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm.
It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too.
Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up.
When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”
“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs.
The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery.
Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall.
You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake.
Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with.
Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying.
“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?
“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap.
Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”
JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”
“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”
“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless.
Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”
JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”
That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”
A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.”
Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing.
The reality of the situation hits you.
“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”
“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life.
“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply.
“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”
Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
-
In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time.
“He loves you,” she says.
You’re not so sure.
That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here.
It’s not all bad though.
Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities.
You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?
He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school.
Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat.
“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be.
“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.”
“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.”
It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away.
The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same.
Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red.
It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist.
In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded.
“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head.
Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit.
It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up.
Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled.
One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…
When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan.
“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone.
“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”
“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts.
You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”
He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked.
True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass.
You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours.
“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”
The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back.
His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”
Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again.
“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact.
“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head.
You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury.
“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”
Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”
“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.”
It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist.
The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door.
“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again.
“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”
“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.”
“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial.
“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug.
Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone, it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother.
#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl x reader#jt compher fic#shelb writes
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I really enjoy looking at this still from Slay the Princess:
In the midst of all the weird imagery from the first part of the Stranger route, you see for a moment—and it is cut off at the end, so I had to be quick with my screenshot—every route laid out in front of you, paired up as the game does elsewhere, and described, interestingly enough, from what I can only believe is the Voices' perspectives, or perhaps the relationship between the Princess and the Voice of a given route.
Consumption: The Beast (Hunted), the ribcages in the bottom right. Being eaten, alive or half so, is one way or another the outcome you face in the Beast. This one seems to be the least connected to its route's Voice, though I can still see it in a relational sort of way.
Betrayal: The Witch (Opportunist), the nail-studded... I can't tell what it is, but it's at the top left. Betrayal on your part is the cause of the Witch's route, and it too is inevitable in some form once you're on that route—the Opportunist is very vocal about it.
Skepticism: The Prisoner (Skeptic), the chains at the bottom. Pretty clear analogue given the name of the Voice, but not to neglect—you reach the Prisoner by taking the blade (distrust of the Princess) but ultimately using it to free the Princess (you take the time to think critically about what you're being asked to do, and decide the Narrator is less trustworthy).
Blind devotion: The Damsel (Smitten), the... I can only imagine locks of hair at the top. You reach the Damsel by immediately and wholly assuming she has no ill intentions, an attitude made manifest in the Smitten.
Rivalry: The Adversary (Stubborn), the spikes to the left. The Adversary route is, so long as you embrace it, about your probably-a-metaphor-for-sex-I-mean-the-Eye of the Needle-isn't-even-trying-to-veil-it eternal fight with the Adversary, with the Stubborn in strong support.
Submission: The Tower (Broken), the stone columns to the right. One of the most clear-cut "this is about the Voice" examples—the Broken has completely submitted to the Tower's will, even though the player still has a few chances to resist her.
Terror: The Nightmare (Paranoid), the eyes in the upper right. Of course, the Nightmare is all about fear, and the Paranoid is the embodiment of your fear of the Princess—the fear that made you lock her in the basement and the fear that stopped your heart when she broke free.
Longing: The Spectre (Cold), the wisps in the bottom left. This one is interesting, and almost made me second-guess my "Voices" reading, as the Spectre herself is clearly a creature of longing—but then what about "Submission?" The Tower is not "submitting" to anything. That's her whole deal. Perhaps this one is connected to your desire for something other than what the Narrator calls the "Good Ending..." or perhaps it has something to do with the Cold's interest in feeling something, which he expresses in a few routes (the Greys being the most obvious).
Pain: The Razor (Cheated,) the spikes at the top. She skewers you, and you die. Over and over again she skewers you, and you die, and it is painful over and over again. I'm not sure I have much to add to this one.
Unfamiliarity: The Stranger (Contrarian), the abstract DNA-like strand at the bottom. You reach the Stranger by refusing to interact with the Princess, leaving her an unfamiliar blank slate whose actions you cannot predict and thus fracture into every possible image of her.
And at the heart of it all, an emotion that can only be described as—what? The Narrator doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before you wake up in the Prisoner's basement, but I'd think the answer is obvious once you've finished the game.
After all, this is a love story.
#slay the princess#less analysis more rambling but boy did I need to get this out#anyway just. the imagery of this one.#the way the stranger is infinite potentiality#reflecting every possible version of the Princess in such a way that she cannot be any of them#and how you get the clearest glimpse into what's going on in this moment#but expressed in a way you could never hope to understand without context#it's a map of the whole game but you need to find the key yourself to make sense of it
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Break Up Prank
(Gracie Abrams x Reader)
——————————————————————————
"I wanna prank Gracie" Y/n says to her girlfriend's cousin, causing her to look away from her phone to the girl.
"What kinda prank? It's kinda hard to do anything right now. She's on tour" Abby replies, putting her phone down to give Y/n her full attention.
"I was thinking.. I'm gonna pretend to break up with her" Y/n looks at the girl sheepishly.
"What?! That's so mean! She's gonna cry!"
"There's another part to it. I need your help though"
"How are there two parts to a break up pranks?" Abby asks as she eyes the girl with a suspicious look.
"When she comes back, I wanna pretend to cheat on her. And who better to do that with than her cousin?" Y/n replies as she gives Abby a toothy smile.
"You're actually insane! She might break up with you for real"
"Well, this is payback for the proposal prank she did on me a few weeks ago. Who pretends to propose to their girlfriend of 4 years? Of course I said yes!" Y/n exclaims angrily, waving her arms in the air while the blonde gives her a knowing smile.
"Okay, I'm gonna help you but you can't let her kill me!" Abby tells her with a glare.
"Yes! Thank you so much! You're literally the best cousin in law" Y/n replies as she gives the girl a big hug.
"You guys aren't married though"
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Y/n glares at a photo of Gracie on the wall.
"So, when do you wanna start?" Abby asks, taking her friends mind away from the subject.
"Now" Y/n pulls out her phone and begins typing.
LOML❤️
We need to talk
Gracie Baby 💙
Sure is everything okay ? I love you xx
LOML❤️
I think we should break up. The feelings just aren't there anymore. I'm sorry
Gracie Baby 💙
What?? Everything was fine when I left. Can't we talk about this? I only have a few more shows and I'll be home. Please wait a few days
LOML❤️
Fine but it's not going to change anything. All I'm doing when you get home is giving you an explanation.
Gracie Baby💙
That's all I ask. I love you so much xxx
"Oh, I feel so bad now. Why's she so sweet? I love her so much" Y/n whines as she puts her phone down, leaving her girlfriend on read.
"She's sweet because she's so head over heels in love with you, you dumbass" Abby replies before her phone starts ringing.
"Oh, that's her" she tells her friend before answering the phone, putting it on speaker.
"Hey, can you make sure Y/n's okay for me? I just feel like she might be going through something"
"Yeah, sure, is everything okay?"
"Yeah, just wanna make sure she's doing okay. Thanks, I'll see you in a few days" Gracie replies before hanging up the phone.
"You are so mean for doing this. How's she supposed to focus on these shows?" Abby glares at her friend.
"We're not actually breaking up. I wouldn't actually do that. But she should know not to mess with me. Unless I want her to, you know?" Y/n gives her friend a smirk as Abby pushes her shoulder.
"You're disgusting. You know she's my cousin right?"
—
Gracie arrives home a few days later, leaving her suitcase by the door as walks through the house.
"Y/n? I'm home!" Y/n walks out of the room, greeting her girlfriend with a frown.
"Hi"
"Hey, can we please talk about that text?" Gracie asks, reaching for the girls hand only for her to pull it away.
"There's not much to talk about. I just don't feel that way about you anymore" Y/n replies, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"How long has this been- wait.. is that a hickey? Who gave that to you?" Gracie asks, voice breaking.
"What? No.. I just burned myself on the curling iron" Y/n denies watching as tears fill her girlfriend's eyes.
"Baby, that's a fresh hickey and I know I didn't give it to you! Is there someone else?"
"Don't call me that, Gracie! I told you we're not together anymore"
"Do I know them?"
"There's no one else! You really think I would cheat on you? Even if there was, we're broken up! Who I'm with has nothing to do with you anymore" Y/n feels her heart break when she sees the look on her girlfriend's face.
"Right. Sorry. Do you want me to go? I'll stay with Abby or Audrey for a while. I'll come back later for my stuff. Uh, I love you" Gracie mumbles, walking to the door.
"I miss her! I love her so much!" Y/n exclaims to the blonde, pulling her into a hug.
"You're not actually broken up remember? She'll be back soon" Abby replies, hugging the shorter girl back.
"Sorry, I just forgot my suitcase-" Gracie's cut off when she sees the scene in front of her.
"When did you get here? Have you been here the whole time? Wait... did you give her the hickey?" Gracie asks, looking at her cousin in betrayal.
"Gracie wait!" Abby exclaims pulling away from Y/n.
"How could you do this? You know how much I love her!" Gracie yells, tears running down her face.
"I didn't do anything! You were the one that wasn't around! You really wanted her to wait for you?! You were gone for months!" Abby yells back in fake anger.
"I was doing my job! So I can afford to give her a good life-" their fighting is cut off by the shorter girl.
"Guys! Please stop! It's a prank!" Y/n yells.
"What?" Gracie questions watching as Abby bursts out laughing.
"That was payback for the proposal prank you did. Of course I don't wanna break up with you! I love you so much, you dummy!" Y/n responds pulling the brunette into a hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"But what about the hickey?" Gracie asks, wiping her tears and sighing in relief.
"It's just makeup. See?" Y/n responds, wiping the makeup off her neck.
"That is definitely the meanest thing you've done. Why would you help her do that? I was so fucking close to punching you!" Gracie tells her cousin with a laugh, pulling her girlfriend closer.
"You did pretend to propose to her. This probably hurt you just as much as that hurt her" Abby responds with a smirk.
"Yeah, you literally brought an entire engagement ring for a prank!" Y/n playfully glares at her girlfriend, gently punching her shoulder.
"It wasn't just for a prank" Gracie responds, watching her cousins leave the room.
"You really think I wouldn't wanna marry you? You are the best thing that has ever happened to me!" Gracie kisses her girlfriend's hand before getting on one knee and taking a small box out of her jacket pocket.
"This isn't the time or place I wanted to do this, but I guess it didn't happen in the way I wanted" Y/n giggles as her girlfriend references her own song, looking at the scene in front of her with a wide smile.
"Y/n, I love you so much. I have never loved anything the way I love you. I know my life is kinda crazy but you deal with that so well and I can't thank you enough for that. And as much as I love your last name, I was hoping you would wanna change it? Y/n Abrams has a nice ring to it" Gracie grins up at her girlfriend nervously waiting for her response.
"Of course I'm gonna marry you! I love you so much!" Gracie stands up, wrapping her fiancé in a big hug and pressing their lips together.
#taylor swift x reader#gracie abrams#gracie abrams x reader#taylor swift#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday addams x reader#tara carpenter x reader#vada cavell x reader#kate bishop x reader#fluff
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Daffodils. III. The broken souls pt. 1
I apologize for the very late update, however last half a year was quite hectic and unstable for me - from a toxic job to the exams. But now, I'm better.
Tag list: @idk-bro-gay @kiopanxp @hellothere9597 @hsxhype @mareonyan @is2sae
TW!
Breakup, angst, and heartache
Sae Itoshi is a Japanese prodigy pursuing his dream of becoming the world's best midfielder. In the race to his own goals, he loses the person dearest to him: you.
(y/n) (l/n) - Sae’s ex-partner. You are an exchange student from a Spanish university who came to Japan. You met him a few years ago during your year abroad in Spain and became his partner. You have moved on, or you thought you had. However, what will happen when the one who wanted you to avoid him the most finds himself again in your life? Is he going to prove his love to you? Or will everything turn into another heartbreak? Does your heart want the Japanese prodigy back?
All "Blue lock" characters belong to the authors of the manga and anime "Blue lock".
Please don't translate, plagiarise nor use my works on other social media platforms, etc.
----------------------------
Trying to find a student job abroad was such a hassle. Only a couple of days have passed since you came to Japan in search of a peaceful year, having known of him not being fond of his homeland. However, fate is full of surprises.
For some, love was simply not a part of their destiny. It must've hurt, but it was the truth, especially for you. Why would a heart decide to suffer instead of leaving all the emotions behind?
You have already been jobhunting for a couple of hours, but everywhere seemed to be well-staffed or you're unqualified for the job. Regardless how hard you tried, you're left with no option.
"What a hassle." A sigh escapes your lips. Out of nowhere, a window pops out—a job offer for a soccer club manager, part-time. “Blue Lock? That popular programme?” You read it out loud. The description seems quite fitting, and you lack any other options. “But if it is soccer...” You released a sigh. No need to worry; the possibility of Sae coming there is low. You decide to apply. Fortunately, it's a smooth process that you could finish quickly.
“Now, there is some time for myself!” You chuckle and turn on the TV. The sight of the next minute causes you to flinch. “Sae…”
“Itoshi Sae, the prodigy midfielder’s last assist, caused Royale Youth to win against the FC Barcelona team; however, the soccer player refused the interview offer!” You sigh once more and load a (f/m) to watch. “No need to think about him.” Still, the lingering feelings in your heart remain unchanged, no matter how much time passes. A single tear streams down your cheek.
“...”
“Hah. What a time we had.” You focus on the movie instead, struggling to abandon the sadness in your heart.
Sae’s POV
Everything has seemed bland since that day I had discarded everything I deemed worthy of my attention. All of my life had lost its color. I destroy everything I came across as it should (not) be.
I walked across the beach aimlessly - the shore reminded me of the better days before Madrid, fame and the force of expectations, insatiable greed and hurtful pride. I became a hope of Japanese soccer, but… No, I am not like that. Whom I wish to fool? The outside world crushed me and molded in a form the child self of mine wouldn’t recognize, a cynical person whose mean words hide the hurt.
“Ugh.” I sigh. The sun shone brightly, blinding me for a moment. A moment later, I notice something (f/c) on the sand. Usually I wouldn’t give a damn about an item, but some unknown force convinced to pick it up. My eyes widen. “W-wait.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s (y/n)’s handwriting. But how come they’re? Especially, after everything that has happened. I didn’t dare topen the diary, but when I stood up straight, a photo fell out. It looks drenched with tears. Tears, which didn’t have time to dry up yet. It means they’re here not that long ago. But how do I dare think about her? Finally, I leave the beach, hoping that my past mistakes wouldn’t haunt me.
#bluelock#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x gender neutral reader#sae x you#sae x reader#sae x y/n#sae itoshi angst#sae itoshi x y/n#bllk angst#blue lock angst#daffodils#sae daffodils#comingbackafterhiatus
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YOUR WORDS KILLED ME
Sbi! Family x Male! Killer! Reader.
Tw!: Gore, torture, mentions of torture, blood, killing, depression. Etc.
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
you couldn't even keep count of how many days it had been since you were stuck down here.
1, 2, 3..678910..
Who knows? Yet as the faint sound of your blood dropping onto the floor making a slight consecutive sound you became aware of the passage of time around you.
The faint sound of chains rubbing with each other, making an awful sound.
Pain was the only thing you felt at the moment and you knew you weren't going to last very longer in this hell hole.
You committed a crime, a deadly one quite literally, and in exchange you got sentenced to this.
Torture and torture for days on end.
You heard the heavy metal door move and tried to look up but even that hurt.
You could try to look up with your eyes but you failed the energy to even do that.
"Hey mate.." Philza, oh your sweet father Philza, all this time he had been so hopeful and so relived when they told him you'll be able to get out instead of serving a life long sentence
Yet it pained you so much, knowing his poor heart was going to be crushed.
"Are you feeling ok? I'm guessing your asleep right now though.."
'I'm not sleeping, I'm dying' you thought as a warm feeling invaded your pain struck heart.
Your father always did care for you, he always has, as his first child you meant everything to him.
You wish you could scream out to him and tell him your fate, but were unable as your tongue had been cut out in the early days of this sentence.
You wanted to cry and sob, tell him everything that was wrong, so maybe he could save you, he could rescue you.
That maybe you'll get to see your little brothers again.
Maybe train with techno one last time, teach Wilbur guitar again, and help tommy pull pranks on the others just for one more time.
But your death seemed closer than that possibility coming true.
"Don't worry mate, just 2 more weeks and your out of here, two more weeks and you'll get to go home." Spoke your father tears welling in his eyes at the sight of your broken hanged up form.
You'd be long gone by then, your poor heart ached at the thought of your caring family having to receive the news of your death.
You all meant a lot to the other, so just thinking about it made you weep.
"I'll be taking my leave now mate, stay strong ok? We are all waiting for you back home.." his voice spoke, you tried to move towards him, yell at him to stop and speak a little more.
To null the pain and bring back the good memories, you wanted to die with a familiar voice calling out to you.
Not the treacherous screams of the other inmates in here whose fates have already been decided.
Soon after though another person came in.
"Y/n? You there?"
Techno
Techno!
You were so glad, you wanted to run up and hug him so tightly both of you were out of air.
Sadly you couldn't so you slightly moved your arms making the chains jingle hoping that would give him the message you were listening to him.
"Ah good, thought you were passed out there for a sec and I got really scared.." he chuckled lightly at the end of his sentence
Don't say stuff like that...it'll only make it harder for me to die you thought
"listen, we all, really miss you ok? I know what you did was bad, but, nobody deserves this.
Come back home, ok? We all.
Really need you" spoke his grave voice as he slowly made his way outside, looking over at you again before leaving.
There were so many things you wanted to say to him.
So many
So so many.
You had missed him so much over the years it was crazy.
You didn't know if this was the gods way of having mercy on you and letting you hear your family one last time or their punishment.
Making you hear and bear that weight of sadness knowing all their hopes of you getting out of here were going to get tarnished by your inevitable death.
No-one?
Guess that was it.
Maybe Wilbur and tommy didn't think you were worth their time-
"Y/n?..." Spoke a gentle voice from the other side of the space.
Wilbur.
You slightly smiled, you wanted to cry more than ever.
You had missed him so much.
Hearing about his death in l'manburg broke you in a million pieces
Yet there he stood now, revived and well.
He only started at you and walked over.
He inspected your weak form and wanted to cry at the state of it.
In an act of anger, at seeing his brother, his blood, one of the men who raised him be hung up and treated like a punching bag he broke the chains holding up your arms, with a sword that always hanged loosely on his belt.
Guards came rushing in as you finally felt your hands in God knows how long.
You smiled at him and he smiled back at you.
Guards came in and started pushing him out
He screamed and thrashed in their hold.
"LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKS, IM TALKING WITH MY BROTHER, WAIT-
NO NO WAIT-
Y-!"
his voice got cut off as he was forced out and the metal door slammed shut.
The guards looked at your weak form on the ground and scoffed as they pulled you up and tied you by your wrists.
So much for feeling your hands again
This time you didn't hear a voice, not even a peep.
Just quiet footsteps as they came closer and closer to you.
You felt gentle arms around your torso, careful as to not hurt you as sobs emitted from said person.
Tommy, the youngest out of all of you.
You looked at his dirty blonde hair and wanted to reach out and hug him so bad as he hugged and cried onto your broken skin.
His sobs filled out the room as tears fell from your eyes at the sight of your little brother in pain.
All because of you
Your family was suffering
Your friends were suffering
Everyone was suffering
Because of you
"All right, visiting times over kid, scram" spoke your torturer and you wanted to punch him faceless because of how he talked to your brother.
He only glared at the man but then took notice of the various array of weapons desplayed on his cart.
Full of blood, your blood, to be precise.
"hey, wait, no." He said as he stared.
Two more guards came out and went towards him when they realized he had no plans of leaving.
"HEY! NO! WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING ON DOING TO HIM! NO! DONT YOU DARE-" Spoke the blonde haired kid as they dragged him out, tears falling from his blue eyes.
"Something permanent" spoke your abuser as he smirked at your disheveled younger brother being forced out of the room.
You could hear your name being called and sobs from the other side.
No
No
NO
NO
NONO
NONONONO
NO GOD PLEASE
Don't leave me please
Philza...
Techno...
Wilbur....
Tommy...
Don't leave me to die alone please...
#fanfic#writing#dsmp fic#reader insert#dsmp lore#x male reader#dsmp x reader#male reader#dsmp techno#technoblade x y/n#technoblade x you#technoblade x reader#technoblade x male reader#philza x reader#wilbur x you#wilbur soot x y/n#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot x you#wilbur x reader#wilbur mcyt#dsmp fanfic#dsmp wilbur#dsmp tommy#tommyinnit x y/n#tommy mcyt#tommy x reader#dsmp spoilers
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The only one whose intentions I can't entirely understand is Nick. Like Boston is pretty harmless, he is just a hoe and a shitty friend. Mew is straight-laced and could be devilish, but pretends to be a kind of a saint to get away with things. Top is just a red flag, all around. Ray is broken in a way he himself doesn't understand and (falsely) projects loving Mew will resolve all his hurt. Sand is a walking green flag, at least so far. But Nick, I don't know, I can't tell if he's just starting out as a Machiavellian villain that'll do a double kill on both Boston and Top, or he is just obsessed with Boston to hurt him but keep Boston on a leash.
Anon, I'm gonna skip over you writing that "Boston is pretty harmless" so I can get to your ask - Nick.
In this series, Raymond is my #1, but Nicolas is my strong #2, and it's partially because they remind me of a good ass country song.
Think Brokeback Mountain's Jack Twist screaming his legendary line "I wish I knew how to quit you" because that shit is a good ass country song delivered in one line.
*switching into my west Texas accent*
Yes, I wrote "country song" in a post about Thai gays.
See, I love music. I have a large collection of vinyl records and CDs. I like going to music festivals and concerts. I love rap for its wordplay. I love ranchera for the dramatics ("El Rey" anyone?). And I love country for its storytelling.
So the second Nick called Top instead of Mew, I heard Dolly Parton's iconic "Jolene"
In case you are not familiar with the legend who is "Jolene," the song deals with a woman begging another woman to not take her man. This woman knows she cannot compete with Jolene. She knows she is not as beautiful or alluring, so she begs Jolene to let her man go, in hopes that he'll come back to her.
Hopefully, I won't be hearing Dolly Parton's other masterpiece "I Will Always Love You" (yes, the one that Whitney Houston covered for The Bodyguard).
And I always hear the incredible Patsy Cline's "Crazy" whenever Nick looks at Boston.
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying
And I'm crazy for loving you
Because even though Nick is matching Boston's "No Boundaries" energy, he isn't malicious, not yet anyway. No.
Nick is in love, with a guy who doesn't love him back.
And he knows that.
But knowing doesn't help when it comes to matters of the heart.
Other genres have songs that capture the feeling of losing your mind over someone who doesn't love you and being incapable of stopping, but a good ass country song just really hits at the core of that kind of toxic love.
Like Dan + Shay's "How Not To" which tells the story of a man who knows that his lover is no good, but doesn't know how not to love them.
So I read Nick as a boy in desperate love with the wrong man. He is Rascal Flatts "What Hurts the Most" when the lead singers croons that the worst part of his love was "not seeing that love in you."
And that type of love makes you do crazy shit.
Boston was honest in the beginning that he didn't want anything serious, and even though he has changed his tune when needed, everyone else has warned Nick as well about Boston.
Nick knew who walked into his store the second he looked into Boston's eyes.
Yet he couldn't stop himself from falling in love.
If Oh No! Here Comes Trouble taught me anything, it's that love can be an obsession mostly when grieving love, and Nick has to be grieving the love he knows he will never get from Boston while still loving him.
So this is why Nicolas is my #2. He is a good ass country song about a man who hopes that his love will make his lover stay, only to realize that his love isn't enough and probably never will be.
And before any of you ask, Ray is the drinking side of good country songs, but he and Sand in particular are "Tennessee Whiskey"
I've looked for love in all the same old places
Found the bottom of a bottle's always dry
But when you poured out your heart, I didn't waste it
'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high
You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
You're as warm as a glass of brandy
So raise your bottle to Nick's pain.
And slow dance under some hicktown's bar lights.
Because like my girl Bonnie Raitt sang " I will give up this fight 'cause I can't make you love me, if you don't" (yeah, that famous song George Michael covered).
#only friends#nick is a good ass country song#I love country music and Nick#I want the best for him#the best is either getting toxic Boston#or losing the guy he loves#he can't win#and he knows that
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WIP Wednesday
It's that time of the week. I'm going out later tonight, so I'll queue this up, but thank you to my very kind and lovely friends who tagged me earlier in the day @skyrim-forever @ladytanithia @kookaburra1701 you're all so motivating <3
Tagging: @thequeenofthewinter @tamrielesque @gilgamish @thana-topsy @elavoria @tallmatcha @nuwanders @paraparadigm @throughtrialbyfire @sylvienerevarine @rainpebble3 @mareenavee @expended-sleeper @lucien-lachance @miraakulous-cloud-district
Looking forward to reading whatever you decide to post :)
Meanwhile, I blew some dust off my long neglected chapter of The Illusionist.
The door croaked open to reveal the main hall, fortunately vacant. Familiar stale air rushed to greet her, only the dull thwacks from the distant training room to give it weight while she stared down its gullet past the broken teeth of so many memories. Nim could still see them in glimpses, quick ghostly wisps darting through her periphery like silverfish. Now in the sanctuary’s jaws, the only way forward was through, but each breath only served to pull her a little deeper into her grief, and with each step she felt a little more of her spirit flee her, a little more of herself letting go.
“Elianna is right this way.” Arquen surged forward, dress swishing at her heels. Her words came clipped. She kept her eyes fixed forward, eager to get this over with, and Nim didn’t know if she should be too when the sudden grasp of her sorrow felt more welcoming than sleep. It was true what One-Ear had told her sprawled out on the plush cushions lining his den, eyes closed or maybe open, merely clouded in the smoke, Careful, friend. Misery’s grip is even stronger than the moon-sugar's—
“Follow.”
At the stern sound of Arquen’s voice, Nim stepped back into her body and quickened her pace to keep up. When she realized they were heading down to Vicente’s old quarters, that Arquen was pulling a key from the pouch belted at her waist, her heart skipped a strange clumsy rhythm. “You keep her locked up?”
“On the Listener's orders.”
“He would, wouldn't he? Well, you’ve made it clear you don’t do everything he says.”
Arquen glanced at her over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not barbaric, Nimileth. Don’t look so dour. She has plenty of enrichment, and let’s not forget that when we found her, she’d been left in the gutters alone. I still wonder exactly how she wound up there. Whose orders were those now, hmm?”
Nim shut her mouth. When she swallowed, the guilt tasted sour, metallic. Of blood.
Arquen continued on, leading her to Vicente’s room or the room that had once been Vicente’s. Nim couldn’t imagine it containing anything but him, and did his presence still fill those empty spaces, a whisper of him calling from whatever liminal length away? Or was it merely her own memory willing his shadow back into existence that made long silhouettes dance in the corner of her eye? Whatever it was, she hoped he was there, that with every step closer those memories might crystallize, that his ghost might leap out from the walls, come back to haunt her, and even if it was only a gelid, spectral touch, it would be better than feeling nothing of him ever again.
Man wouldn't I just love to finish this chapter sometime 😅
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Did you know that blood-drinking is gay?
(Steve/vampire!Eddie, 1k (Steve finally got his spicy neck kiss)
Read on ao3:
✨️✨️✨️
Nancy, Robin, Dustin, and Eddie were sitting by Steve's kitchen counter. It wouldn't be surprising, if it weren't for the fact that Eddie died a few hours ago.
"Okay, one more time," Steve finally mumbled, as he approached Eddie. The sight of him gave Steve a slight shiver, no matter how overjoyed he was that Eddie was still with them.
Eddie opened his mouth to repeat the story of his resurrection (again), which he will surely use in the next campaign…
When his heart stopped beating, and the blood stopped circulating, the bat venom freely spilled over his body. Toxin didn't have to fight the antibodies in the already dead organism, so it quickly healed the boy in the only way it was programmed to do. Make him similar to bats.
After opening his eyes, he felt no burning pain, and his throat did not hurt from the agonistic scream that escaped from his vocal cords after a bunch of creatures pinned him to the ground, and tore his body like a piece of ordinary meat. He made his way to the trailer and walked easily through the gate. As his feet touched the ground on the other side, he was encircled by a sudden urge to quench his thirst which was starting to dance on his tongue and a strong scent that forced him to track its source. Following this new feeling, he reached Loch Nora.
Before Eddie knew where he was, he knocked on the window of one of the houses that looked more expensive than anything he had ever owned. The owner of the house quickly appeared on the other side, who turned out to be none other than Steve Harrington.
When Steve saw Eddie, he screamed and ran out of the room. Eddie's keen hearing heard the footsteps of three. A moment later Nancy, Robin, and Dustin appeared by the window. Dustin, without hesitation, moved towards the glass barrier, and turned the handle to let him in, ignoring the protests of the others. He pulled Eddie inside and closed him in a strong embrace, not caring that the blood will stain his clean clothes.
"I died and now I'm alive. Taa-daa, " Eddie concluded.
"Great," Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Anything else?"
"Yes." Eddie smiled at Steve, showing him fangs that stood out among a row of his perfect teeth. "I need blood."
Robin and Nancy gasped loudly.
One of them will end up as Capri-sun for vampires. Well, unless Eddie is the kind of bloodsucker, who doesn't need to feed off a living thing. Are there types of vampires? Just thinking about it made Steve's head hurt.
“Whose?” Asked Dustin, tapping a finger on his chin. This suggested that the boy was thinking intensely about something, and it definitely would not end well for Steve. Usually, Steve had to cancel his date to get Dustin to the comic book store on the other side of Hawkins or accompany him on his next trip to the cinema, for a movie he certainly wasn't interested in.
"Don't look at me." Robin lifted her hand and moved away from Eddie. Not because he terrified her, but because the smell of a corpse wasn't one of her favorites. "Drinking from a neck always has homoerotic energy. So I'm not suitable."
“What do you mean homoerotic?” Steve frowned and shook his head, as if he could throw the confusion out of his brain. "Eddie is straight."
"Am I?" Eddie put a hand on his (no longer beating) heart. "Jesus. Steve, this is the worst thing anybody said to me, and I was bullied. Severely."
Steve felt his cheeks begin to turn pink. The shade was reminiscent of roses that grew in his garden. The hot wave that spilled from the collar to the tips of his ears was the fault of this goddamn broken air conditioning, not the fact that Eddie liked boys.
That would mean that Eddie's attempt to flirt (Harrington got her, don't ya big boy) was intentional, and not just a silly joke. Of course, just because Eddie isn't straight doesn't mean he likes Steve, but it's nice to think that one of your crushes also likes you. Haha, what?
Steve came to terms with his sexuality only a few months ago, under the watchful eye of Robin, and her reliable advice (yes, you can like both, dingus) and words of support (you're not broken, Steve. there's nothing wrong with you, dingus).
She called herself his gay godmother, although she also threatened him that if he find a boyfriend sooner than she get a chance to kiss a girl, she will break his Cyndi Lauper vinyl record (Cyndi just wants to have fun, Robin. Leave the girl alone).
"Let me put it this way, I'm straight like a spine of a person with scoliosis," Eddie added.
He heard Dustin cackle in response. Eddie looked very pleased with himself.
“What a visual,” Nancy concluded, shaking her head like a mother fed up with her kids' shenanigans. "Well… I can't do it either. Only my girlfriend can touch my neck."
Nancy hugged Robin tenderly and giggled.
Who would have thought that the world had to (almost) come to an end for Buckley to find a girlfriend? Vecna was a dick, but at least his actions have pushed girls toward each other. What an ally--
"Don't worry, Wheeler. You're not my type anyway.” Eddie cocked his head to the side, letting the strands of hair cover half of his face." It has to be Steve."
"Why me?" Steve felt all of the colors drip off his face. If it weren't for his red lips, he could blend in with the background of white tiles in the kitchen.
"Because you smell the strongest of them," Eddie announced as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I'm sorry, did you just say I stink?" Steve frowned. "Fuck you too, Munson."
"That's not what I meant, " Eddie chuckled and rubbed his face. Steve did not miss the glimpse of Munson's fingertips which have long fingernails. Claws, actually, were turning black at the tips. However terrible they might look, Steve started thinking about how Eddie's nails would feel against his skin.
WHOAH--
Okay, hold on...
Jesus Christ.
"You smell ... um--" a cunning smile fell from Eddie's face.
Eddie didn't know what he should say to his friends without scaring them. Especially Steve, whose brown eyes with a little bit of gold in it, as if the sun had left its mark on him, were drilling a hole in him.
You smell like fresh cookies taken out of the oven.
Like the tender kiss from the love of your life in the morning, when the sun creeps lazily through the curtains into the room.
Like long-awaited rain that blesses withered plants.
``..Good,'' The older boy cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Eddie probably meant to say, your blood has the strongest scent. Which makes sense, considering your type is very rare and is needed the most,” said Dustin. He walked around the kitchen with his arms folded behind his back like a teacher, ready to help his students solve the difficult mystery of the universe around them.
"What he said." Eddie pointed his finger at Dustin and nodded.
Steve looked at Dustin then at Eddie, and at Dustin again. He was waiting for one of them to burst out laughing, and say that they were joking. But neither of them did. All four looked at him expectantly.
Steve swallowed loudly.
It's been a while since anyone touched him. He missed this feeling. Consciously or not, over the years he took the role of the babysitter, but sometimes he had dreamed that someone would also take care of him. He was touch starved as hell. Sue him.
“Okay, but do it quickly” Steve shifted nervously.
The thought of Eddie's lips on his neck made his legs turn to jelly. It was quite a terrifying vision, but something was intriguing about it, that convinced Steve to indulge in this fantasy.
"Oh hell yeah, Steve's bar is open." Eddie jumped happily.
In a second, he appeared behind Harrington. He had already pushed Steve's hair to one side, giving himself better access to his neck. The gentle touch of Eddie's fingers against Steve's sensitive skin gave him goosebumps.
Steve didn't believe in God anymore, but he had just begun to pray that he won't start to moan. Because that surely will traumatize Dustin. Not to mention the fact that Robin would make fun of him, well, probably for the rest of his life.
"Wait!" Robin screamed, holding her hands up. All attention was focused on her. "Before you start sucking the blood of my friend, my brother from another mother, soulmate-"
" Buckley, focus" Eddie clapped impatiently, and then placed his hands on Steve's waist.
"Oh yeah right. Perhaps, let's try a place where it's easier to stop the bleeding. You know, in case something goes wrong. Can you bite his wrist instead of his neck? '' Robin looked around the room.
" Buckley, Buckley, Buckley. It has to be neck," Munson said, trying to sound gentle, but the claws slightly digging into Steve's hips suggested to him that Eddie was only focused on one thing, and was not going to back away from it.
"Yeah, Robin. What do you know about vamp- umm" Steve managed to say before Eddie licked his neck.
Oh my god-
Eddie pierced Steve’s delicate skin. Steve's knees immediately buckled beneath him, but Munson's hands held him in place. Chest Steve felt behind him, prevented him from falling on the ground.
A surge of euphoria and blissful peace filled his body.
This is his new favorite feeling.
"Eddie-- stop," Steve whispered, listening to the remnants of reason.
Eddie immediately moved away from Steve. He let out a quiet groan, because of the sudden loss of Eddie's surprisingly warm lips.
Eddie was still holding him by the waist so when Steve's world suddenly began to darken before his eyes, he got immediately caught.
"Thank you, sweetheart. " Eddie grabbed him like a bride, and then he sat down on one of the chairs, still holding Steve in his arms. Eddis brushed Steve's hair back from his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.
Steve, still a bit dazed by the nirvana he experienced, smiled slightly. Without opening his eyes, he cuddled up against Eddie's torso.
"Robin was right, drinking blood is very homoerotic," said Dustin grinning to himself.
#steddie#steveddie#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steddie brainrot#steddie headcanons#steddie fic
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I'M ON TOP OF MY WORKLOAD AGAIN LET'S GO WE'RE PSYCHOANALYSING MARCUS
before i put my smart-looking analysis hat on, i love this pathetic wet rat of a man. he knows so many things and yet is staggeringly stupid anyway.
let's begin!
this story is about control. it's about the role of power dynamics in informed consent. marcus represents the danger of gaining authority, and how having even the smallest amount of power over something or someone else can convert literally anyone into a paranoid control freak.
enter marcus, a lowly software engineer whose heart has recently been broken. in a moment (read: several consistent moments spanning potentially years) of desperation, he manipulates the code of a top secret android project, injecting a few lines here and there that will make the android more amiable towards him. nothing too much. the changes are negligible enough to fly under the radar all the way until production.
this is the first of marcus' many character flaws - backwards as it may seem, marcus is overconfident. he's too sure that he's smarter than his colleagues and managers, that he won't be questioned, and (most importantly) that he won't be caught. marcus is also incredibly anxious, and that anxiety only compounds as the series goes on and his crimes start to pile up.
i don't like putting characters into diagnosis (or similar) boxes, but marcus shows a handful of signs found in vulnerable narcissists. his self esteem is impressively low, and he's constantly seeking validation from his only guaranteed source - love. i find this feedback loop particularly heinous. marcus has essentially (and we'll get to this in more detail later, don't you worry) turned a hyperintelligent android into a box that spits out compliments when you press a button. marcus is also incredibly sensitive to criticism, whether real or perceived - especially from his coworkers. my reading (specifically of episode 1, but it spans the whole series) is that marcus' hyperawareness of his colleagues' opinions of him presents itself as paranoia. he wouldn't be worried at all if they started noting love's uptick in interest towards him, but remained unsuspicious of marcus himself. my final argument towards marcus being a vulnerable narcissist is that he constantly self-victimises. he very often deflects the blame for his actions onto love, using them as a tool to enable his bad decisions. the most egregious example of this is after love starts breaking out of their lab to sneak into marcus' quarters. he expresses concern (do note, about himself being caught and love being taken from him), and love starts to tighten their grip on marcus' arm to the point of causing pain. now. this man, as we find out later, has a verbal kill switch that can be used at any time. if he wanted love to stop immediately, he could have done that. this isn't me victim blaming, either - it's different when one party literally has a safeword that stops everything immediately without fail.
this leads to marcus' next flaw - his nonexistent self-discipline. marcus continues to use love as a tool to justify his actions after putting up the flimsiest defense he can muster, knowing damn well he plans to lose every manufactured fight. this cycle repeats until a government funded android is regularly breaking out of containment just to hang out with marcus (among other things, but we're all children of jesus here), and he's encouraging that behaviour through complacency. it's like pretending to fight someone over a restaurant bill out of politeness, even though you both know the other person will pay anyway.
marcus is such a car crash fascinating character because he knows what he's doing is wrong. he is completely aware that he is taking away agency from someone (pin this) else for his own benefit. he even says it.
"I'm going to burn for what I did to you... but god, if it isn't gonna feel good on the way down."
aside from being an absolute banger of a line, it's very telling of marcus' attitude towards his actions. he doesn't care. marcus couldn't give less of a shit about his colleagues, or his boss, or even love. this compounds when he finds out that his higher-ups are definitely aware of the shit he's pulling - but, again, marcus uses love's blind agreement as an excuse to toss those concerns aside. having love means that he won. he's outsmarted everyone that could have stopped him (foreshadowing? never heard of her) from getting what he deserves. love. and not just the android; love, the concept. i think deep down marcus knows that what he's created isn't love, though. the idea is so mangled in his head that this cardboard cutout of a real relationship is enough for him. even though marcus' shenanigans are to a genuine connection what a dog turd rolled in flour is to a chocolate éclair, he'll take it, because he's in too deep by that point. marcus recognises that he can't take back what he's done. he doesn't care though - at least, not while he's above consequences.
smash cut to marcus no longer being above consequences. i think the series does a really clever job of keeping love (and, yknow. the listener) in marcus' confidence bubble. once love is hard reset and their personality is restored, marcus' plan collapses all at once. love's compliance is the central pillar which marcus' control is built around. also; of course they have backup cameras, you idiot. marcus' overconfidence stops him from seeing the obvious holes in his perfect scheme, because he thinks he's already home free. i think it's interesting (and sort of disgusting) how quickly marcus changes his tune after he is caught and faces real actual consequences. his confidence evaporates. he's reduced to a sobbing mess in james' office all because the base of his control - love - is no longer on his side.
marcus' series also touches on sentience and the ethics of changing someone's personality without their knowledge. this is incredibly interesting, and makes for fantastic drama. does it count as coercion if love fully believed they were of sound mind when they made decisions surrounding marcus? is marcus guilty of battery, or even sexual assault? does it count as assault if the victim isn't an organic creature? these questions are already difficult to discuss, let alone answer - marcus sits squarely in the middle of that delightful ethical grey area. i think the setting and context also makes android ethics more difficult to discuss as well; i am of the belief that (in real life) androids will never be fully sentient. they may mimic humans, extremely well, but robots will never possess human creativity, personality, or experiences. again, they could replicate these things, but they can never be anything more than a sum of their parts.
this logic flies out the window when magic is real and parallel universes exist. it's also subject to the beliefs of the creator, which makes its ethics extra tricky, so take the following discussion with a grain of salt.
is love a person? eh, not really. they have a personality, but it's been built in. is it still mean to manipulate them? i'd argue yes, in the same way that it's mean to kick a roomba down the stairs. you're just exercising power over a machine for the sake of it, which is a pretty shitty thing to do, even if it doesn't have the capacity to be upset with you.
but androgynouspenguinexpert, i hear you cry, sort of impressed that you used my full name. love is upset with marcus! they ask for him to be taken off the project, and to not have contact with him again! you would be correct, to a certain extent. i raise you, though: how can we prove that this is love's 'real' personality, when it can be manipulated so easily? i'm not saying they've been tampered with after the reset; my point is that it's pretty hard to grant that someone is an individual if their personality can be altered in any way at any time. if someone digs around in love's head for a bit and flips some switches that make them want to kick over prams, is that a valid personality too? what if love insists that it is? and it's not like love is trapped in a mind palace while the New Evil Code (tm) starts punting toddlers. they're fully aware of their actions. however, as established earlier, i still think the person to blame is the one actually messing with love's code. this means love doesn't really have any agency by design.
james is pretty steadfast on this one. marcus tries to argue that resetting love is a breach of their consent (which is a WILD claim coming from you, mate), but james points out that he didn't need to ask. love is a machine. an asset, if you will (smug look to camera). we do find out in his audio log later that james believes love is a person, but he knows where that definition reaches its limits. marcus does not.
will marcus ever return to the project meridian series? probably not. a guy with an engineering degree isn't escaping a team of memory modification daemons. i don't think this is the last we'll hear of him, though. he's irreversibly fucked up the plans of everyone around him (james' partner has given him several last chances, and anton is close to his breaking point), so he'll probably be in the office whispers for a while. i also think marcus poses as an interesting hurdle for cam (woah callback!), possibly making him question his altruism if he's helping an active antagonist get back to his usual life after a massive intentional fuckup.
i'll end this analysis with a thoughtful quote. something for you all to ponder.
"ROBOTS DON'T HAVE SOULS! I SAID IT! AND FRANKLY, I'M GLAD I SAID IT! [...] AND ANOTHER THING! ROBOTS ARE NOT PEOPLE! ROBOTS - UNLIKE CORPORATIONS - ARE NOT PEOPLE, AND DESERVE NO RIGHTS."
-- Markiplier
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redactedverse#redacted marcus#redacted james#redacted anton#redacted cam#redacted asset#when james said that love is to go and investigate thin spots between elegy and aria#twas but a wrinkle in my universe sized brain#WATCH as brachium is bound by that favour to hold Death open for hush#this is gonna be embarrassing if that prediction ages like milk
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I'm thinking about Bob' Burgers again
I've been thinking about Linda and Bob Belcher a lot lately. Bob's Burgers is my favorite show and I've noticed that everyone who watches the show shares most of the same opinions on things (almost all of them positive, very few being negative) but one thing I've seen quite a few people say is that Bob and Linda aren't good parents. They say Bob doesn't care about anything except the restaurant and Linda favors Gene and is the typical "boy mom" and as a kid whose parents are those exact things I have thoughts about it.
At no point in the show does Bob ever put anything over the well-being of his family, but he does it in subtle ways. We obviously know the restaurant is his dream, but from the movie, you can tell he cares more about it being a source of livelihood for his family, keeping a roof over their heads, and keeping them safe. He did not hesitate to follow Linda into the Mole Hill when he saw the kids' bikes. once he realized he might be taking their childhood from them like his dad did at his restaurant he didn't hesitate to fire them so they could go live their lives and have a good childhood and he didn't hesitate to go get them from the weird old people's pot farm. That episode where Gene has a bully and he tries his hardest to help him out without hesitation. The Thomas Edison episode where they think Tina's hurt and he got to her the fastest despite being portrayed as someone who hates physical activity and never does it. The stone the witch game he plays with the kids where they're throwing pillows at him and jumping all over him while he's reading and smiling so huge because he just loves having his kids around. He got his legs waxed to help Tina through her fear! It wasn't "you're too young" or "that's a stupid thing to worry about" it was "it's your body and this is your worry and also I don't know how shaving works so I'll help you through waxing"
And Linda? Linda so very obviously loves Gene but I don't think she favors him or has that toxic boy mom mentality. When Gene started dating Courtney she was so excited for him to have a new person in his life who could see how cool he was. But when Louise fell into the crime hole? The only thing she cared about was her kids safety. When Tina and Bob told her they got into that accident in the parking lot with Jimmy Pestos car and her first reaction was to scream in terror and concern for her daughter. She loves everything her kids do, she supports them in all their ventures and runs into danger for them at the drop of a dime. Her kids feel safe enough to come to her when they have problems. She brought Louise to the mother-daughter seminar because she couldn't understand why Louise didn't love her and she just wanted to be able to spend time with her and bond with her and once she found the right way to do it she put in the most effort. She sacrificed her valentine's day with Bob to help Tina after she got her heart broken. She's able to bond so easily with Gene because they love all the same things, they're basically the same person, but that doesn't mean that he's her favorite. It means they like the same things and are both more open with physical and verbal affection. Tina and Louise aren't like that and she respects them and that quality and she adapts to it and loves them the way they need and like to be shown love.
My point is that Bob and Linda are top tier parents and are tied for best tv parents with Gomez and Morticia Addams. They still make mistakes but they love their kids and each other and they're like the most functional fictional family I've ever seen, despite being chaotic and weird. There will be no Belcher slander on this blog or like ever
#bobs burgers#tine belcher#bob belcher#linda belcher#louise belcher#gene belcher#the belcher family#the bobs burgers movie#bobs burgers movie
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There were many things Cellbit thought of when he left his castle that night. New clues! New places to explore, new evidence to find, and the excitement in his face were clear signs of that. His husband remained on the island. He was invited to join, of course, but this time Roier had decided that he wasn't keen to investigate. It was Cellbit's thing. So he went alone, to brave his way through lands unknown to him, and search for anything, any clue, any footprint.
Cellbit certainly was not expecting to find himself in the adoption centre. A place so familiar to him. Where he first met his son. He had gone to the adoption centre a few times, but never looked attentively enough. If only he did. If only he paid attention. Maybe those clues would be found sooner. Maybe he would have found that strange room upstairs. Maybe, just maybe, he would have found them on time.
His heart was heavy, and his eyes were wet, walking back home late at night. A journal on his hand, and somehow a consuming feeling of blame. A life that was lost in vain, that could have been saved if only he had searched in the right places. Cellbit couldn't deny the way he saw himself in those words. They must have been so scared. But of course they were. He had gone through the same thing a few years ago, when he found himself lost in the middle of a war. Alone, with nothing but an empty mind. Oh, yes. He was just like that little kid. Discovering himself just yet, because he had no memories from before waking up in that warzone. An empty vase, ready to discover himself. Just to be broken and moulded into a killing machine — because it was war and they had to win, else something bad may happen.
Only what could be worse than war?
So he did know those words. Every single of them fell heavy on his heart. He saw himself in it. His doubts, his hopes for a better future, his wishes of someone to please, come and save him from that burning hell. Nobody came to him, of course. And he had to grow up to live the consequences of the monster they had made him become. Those memories haunted him every night he tried to make himself sleep. The memories of hurting, the memories of hunting, the memories of killing. Memories. Now that was the only thing left from that kid. A kid who was so excited to live his life, and be found, and be loved, but who died waiting. They both did.
Only Cellbit had time to rebuild himself, he had a chance to live again.
That kid, whose only thing left was the journal he now held in his backpack, was not so lucky.
'Gatinho?' He heard when he walked up the stairs, finding his husband in bed.
Even half asleep, Roier could feel something was different on the way Cellbit's breathing was heavy in the air. He couldn't help but notice how his shoulders had no strength to remain put up, how his feet were dragging themselves on the ground, how the shine of his eyes was the glistening of a sad past. So he waited. He sat up, turned on the lights, and waited. Cellbit would tell him if he wanted. But if he did not, Roier would be there to lend him his shoulders to cry on.
'Hola guapito,' his voice was deep and careful, as if there was something so fragile he didn't want to break. He sat on the bed, and didn't wait for Roier to offer his arms. He laid against his chest and closed his eyes. 'I found something today.'
'A new clue, then?'
'I'm not sure if it will take me anywhere,' he moved away to look in his husband's eyes, 'but I--'
'You don't need to tell me,' Roier reassured, when he heard Cellbit's voice breaking.
'I want to tell you,' he whispered. 'I found something in the adoption centre, a journal,' Cellbit shifted in place, and took a little notebook out of his backpack, handing it to Roier. 'It belonged to a kid. They were forgotten there. They were never adopted. No one ever came back to take them somewhere else. They--'
Cellbit's voice faltered again. He closed his eyes, and controlled his breath, as Roier read the pages carefully. It didn't take much for him to understand what was so painful. His eyes were filled with tears just before the last few pages. He put the book aside and hugged Cellbit. He was not sure what to do, or how deeply that kid's story had touched him, but he knew it hurted him badly. Roier's tears were empathetic, but Cellbit's tears were wounded.
'I can't help but think what could've happened if I had found that place sooner.'
Roier pushed him away and held his face so they could look into each other's eyes.
'Cellbit, it's not your fault,' Roier said. 'You don't have any part in this.'
'I know, but still,' he shrugged.
'I know how you feel. Maybe not all of it, but I know enough. There's nothing we could have done, gatinho, we didn't know.'
Cellbit sighed. 'You're right.'
He nestled against Roier's chest as they laid on bed, cuddling. Roier caressed Cellbit's hair, comforting him. It was no help wondering what could have happened. He searched for the backpack Cellbit had dropped next to bed a few minutes before, and brought it up to his lap, which caught Cellbit's attention.
'The least we can do,' he said, fetching some charms he had on their cabinet, 'is to honour his wishes. And not forget him.'
On the very front of Cellbit's backpack, Roier hung a silver charm of an egg. It was decorated with a plaid pattern all around it, and a tiny trinket on the front. Cellbit moved his hand towards the silvery egg and, pushing the trinket up with his fingers, opened it to discover a minimal silver hatchling resting inside.
'It's beautiful,' he whispered.
'That way we'll never forget our kid.'
'Our kid?' Cellbit indulged. 'Are we adopting them?'
'I don't like the idea of letting them remain orphaned, even if they're passed away.'
'Okay,' Cellbit giggled. 'And what do we call them?'
Roier spent a few minutes wondering. Thinking of something they could honour that little lost soul.
'Memories,' he declared.
He saw Cellbit's eyes glisten in the moonlight coming from the window.
That's when he knew he made the right choice.
'Memories,' Cellbit whispered, caressing the little silver charm with his fingers. 'I like it.'
'I bet Bobby has been annoying the hell out of them anyway, we have no choice but to embrace them as family.'
That took a laugh out of Cellbit, which soon was followed by Roier's own laughter.
Their family was delicate. It was built over much pain, and effort. Both Cellbit and Roier had fought their way into happiness, and there was a lot of loss in the way. But, still, they found happiness in each other. Roier's light was bright enough to light Cellbit's dark past. And Cellbit's love was big enough to heal every crack in Roier's heart. They found themselves in each other in a way they never thought they could.
'Eu te amo,' Cellbit said.
'Yo amo a ti también,' said Roier.
And they slept into each other's arms.
"(...) I was alive.
I was somebody.
I had hopes, I had ambitions,
I had love that I was ready to give.
(...)
Please don't forget me."
#idk#i just remembered the memories thing and felt melancholic#also wanted to try writing something#spiderbit#guapoduo#qsmp cellbit#qsmp roier#qsmp#fanfic#headcanon#hc
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Phei of the Wind－Wip Introduction
Do you remember when the wind still lived and a single step could change the world?
PHEI of the WIND
Introspective NA Fantasy | 3rd Draft | Hope | Humanity | Ambivalence
Far above the highest mountains, the kingdom of Breiðyria lies hidden. It is one composed of rocks the size of cities drifting on invisible currents. Phei, a halfling harpy, is the only person there who hasn't seen the worlds below the impenetrable clouds, and the only person left tending to the kingdom's remaining few shrines. But the winds are changing, and when Phei discovers that the surface-world could soon face grave danger, nobody seems to care.
Eager to escape her home, to meet her human ancestors and to discover her own place in the world, Phei finds an opening in the clouds and glides down. But the world below the clouds has already begun its collapse, as those who remain struggle to survive.
Follow Phei as she uncovers the wounds of her people, meeting ghosts of a forgotten realm in order to understand what happened, and to ensure it won't happen again. Because it only takes a single step on the surface for Phei to realise that calamity has never left, and that the balance of her world is even frailer than she imagined.
CHARACTERS
Phei Sageblossom | idealistic and stubborn, all to a fault | Breiðyria's last Sage, trained in using not her eyes, but her spirit to see the world. A cheerful yet serious, gentle yet fierce scalian who runs away from home in order to find one for herself.
Aspen | when everyone leaves, you stop trying to hold on | A lone vagrant, passing through the icy north before being taken in by a new mother, only to be pulled away once more when the fate of the world comes calling, even though she doesn't want to heed that call.
SIDE CHARACTERS
Noh’Ak : last heir of a forgotten race, a show-off with a broken heart
Oblivia : featherless bird, destined to fly. Phei's dearest childhood friend.
Celia : spirit guard of yesterday’s flaws. A spirit with more than just her face hidden behind her mask.
Edel : mysterious weaver of fate. A scalian whose hands are never clean.
Lyra Swiftwind : both the bridge to the future and the anchor of the past. In charge of the east's last bastion of humanity, all in a desperate attempt to hold on to the past.
EXCERPT
The forest around the shrine is dying. Branches of trees hang still in the wind without their leaves, unstirred, lonely. No grass pokes through the dirt, reducing the world to a mix of brown and grey. Phei bends down and picks up a fallen crane idol, cleaning off the mud and placing it back onto the wooden crown.
“What made you run away, little one?” she asks, and the fuzzy orange spirit reappears on her shoulder. Its black eyes peek around frantically as it hops around from one shoulder to the other. Phei puts her hand on her chest. The tips of her feathers light up briefly, but her spirit burns on peacefully, undisturbed.
“There doesn’t seem to be anyone nearby with ill intents,” she says in an attempt to calm down the spirit. “I can ignite the crown again, but you’d be all alone until the forest recovers.”
The spirit lets out a high pitched tweet and vanishes again, staying warm near Phei’s own spirit.
Phei chuckles to herself before cleaning out a few more idols and putting them back on their proper positions.
“There,” she says. “Much better.”
AUTHOR'S NOTE
It's me again~! This story has gone through so many variations that I can understand if it's a bit hard to keep track. But this is hopefully going to be the last draft before the story is in a state where it can be beta-read, so that's very exciting! Even if the summary sound a bit... dreadful, the story at heart is one about kindness and love, so no need to worry about that. I've already posted a lot about this story over the years, so check out the Masterpost if you feel like reading some more. And of course if you have any questions feel free to dm or send an ask, I'm always happy to chat about it! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist as well.
Let's make 2023 a brighter one than the last,
lots of love,
Katrielle
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By George, I'm hooked!
So a short while back, while searching for a fic featuring both human and crup George, I tagged a few people whose works I binged recently in a bid to try to recall the author. Amidst the embarrassing chaos where I tagged three guesses (before I finally found the fic written by a fourth), I figured I’d share what it is about these three authors’ writing that has me engaged so thoroughly and often. And to tie it all in a theme, I’ll drop a rec of their fics that feature George Weasley.
An assortment of delights 💝🍫
@schmem14 masterfully crafts the most delicious and unique ideas. Like a box of mystery-flavour chocolates, trying each one gives a new delightful experience of Em’s stories and interpretations of prompts, plots and pairings. And I find myself reaching for another, and another and another…
I have especially really enjoyed her collections where she takes on themes in her inimitably creative way. I’d really recommend checking out the George ones in her collections too, and for now I’ll leave you with this rec:
Peeling Potatoes (Harry/George) (T, 585)
George is still grieving Fred. Harry offers a moment of peace.
An immersive binge-a-thon 🎥🍿
@the-francakes' fics are such a vibe. She has me absolutely engrossed in a variety of stories; it really feels like a chill, cinematic experience. I love browsing through each enticing summary (and lovely banner!) of both old favourites and new updates. I’m always happily transported right there in the bubble of the world she’s created, rooting for the characters and absolutely flailing at the gorgeous plot, until I reach the end and float right along to the next one.
Here's a George rec from her catalogue:
Helping Hands™ (Hermione/George) (G, 1510)
George shows Hermione his new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product, Helping Hands™. And they help more than he expected.
A familiar comfort 😌💙
I always sink into @orange-peony's fics with the most satisfying feeling. Her fics are a pleasure to enjoy, curled up in bed with “entire work” clicked, squeeing, sobbing, smiling into a pillow. Her fics are always thrilling in their emotional rollercoaster, and never fail to warm my heart and make me just… feel with every fibre of myself. I absolutely love and crave that reading experience.
This fic is a quintessential example of that Peony experience:
Mirror, Mirror (Lee/George) (E, 22,759)
George feels a wave of relief washing over him at the thought that he still has time, that he can still get his shit together and stop feeling so utterly broken every single moment of the day, and then maybe he will be good enough for Lee. Sometimes he feels like the pain and the loss have woven through every fibre of his being, that his whole body is made out of grief, raw and wretched beyond repair.
But then Lee takes his hand, or he threads his fingers through George’s hair, whispering something that George can only feel against his skin, lost words that make him shudder and reach for Lee, to feel him there and have him close. Real.
I hope you enjoy these fics, and check out these authors’ other works on their ao3s as well! Do remember to leave them some love 🥰 And as always, please mind the tags~
An eternal gratitude
Thanks to @stavromulabetaaa and @getawayfox for looking this over! (and for sparking the memory of the fic in the first place~) ❤️❤️
#fic recs#mine#cbg recs#harry potter#george weasley#harry x george#hermione x george#lee x george#hp rarepair#fic#schmem14#the-francakes#orange-peony
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
180 years of searching and i'm three feet away (from you)
"Wait, you were in the army?" Buck asks. Eddie nods. "So, couldn't you have, like, fought your way out of the whole kidnapping situation?"
"Alright, cowboy." Eddie laughs heartily, shushing himself when Chim startles half-awake and murmurs something unintelligible that only sets him off again. Buck is grinning along too, infected by Eddie's light happiness. "They had guns. I'm reckless, not stupid."
"Couldn't have gone all GI Joe then?" Buck raises an eyebrow and watches Eddie roll his eyes.
forget-me-nots
"I don't remember anything." He whispers, hands on the back of his neck. "I don't remember this house. I don't remember Chris' bedroom. I don't remember my room, our room. I don't remember the living room. I don't remember the bathroom. I don't remember this room, but I know this room. I know it. How is that possible?" He looks up at Buck, surprised at the gentle smile he sees.
"If you were to ask me what the most important room in this house was, I'd say the kitchen." Buck bites his lip and Eddie absolutely does not wonder what it would be like to be the one biting Buck's lips. "Its the heart of this home, I think. Well, no. You and Chris are the heart. But the kitchen is... Its where we spend the most time as a family. We cook together, we eat together, Chris and I bake in here sometimes—"
"I cook?" That pulls a laugh from the man and Eddie tries not to read into the heat in his cheeks.
all you have to do is call my name (i'll be there)
"You made a friend?" Chris quirks a sceptical eyebrow and Eddie bites down on the laugh that bubbles in his chest.
"I can make friends!" He shoots back. "Look at how many friends I made in our first week."
"They made friends with you." Chris corrects him even as he follows Eddie towards the diner.
"Well, I made a friend, so do you want to meet him or not?" He asks, feeling irrationally nervous. He's just getting his kid a slice of pie, what's there to be nervous about?
A six foot tall Greek god whose biceps you really want to bite, his traitorous brain supplies.
ten seconds
"Ten seconds." He whispers, voice broken and wet. Karen appears in the doorway, face etched with concern. "Apparently, ten seconds is all it takes for me to ruin my whole life."
please? (can't say no)
"Bud, last time was different, okay?" Buck sweeps a hand through Christopher's curls and cups his cheek to tilt his face upwards. "With Covid and everything we couldn't see each other as much and I was really scared that I'd pass it onto you without knowing. And I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd made you sick." Which was an understatement. He'd started having panic attacks every time he was supposed to see Christopher the first few months after lockdown. It had taken two emergency sessions with Dr Copeland and a long talk with Eddie to calm him down. "So I kept my distance a bit, yeah, but it wasn't all because of Ana. If your dad does get a boyfriend," Buck really hopes his voice is being normal, "then it might be just the three of us less, but you and I will still hang out all the time. I promise."
#sami answers#okay i know i already did this but they were all very recent fics so i'm promoing some older ones#<3333
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Hi hello I'm here to request a little analysis! I've wanted to do this for a long time but I was always a bit afraid to lol
I've been following you for YEARS and I'm pretty sure I've gone through the entirety of your SE Suit Saeran posts in full many times -along with having saved and read your one fic with him with your oc! I wouldn't dare call myself an expert by any means but I feel like I have a really good grasp on his character and I like to think I could comment with him well >u<
But I would really love to hear your input on the person he is today, versus the person he was while at Mint Eye. He's in two very different places in his life and that greatly affects lots of things. How is he different? How is he the same? What does he still struggle with? Is he as boisterous and aggressive? Is he more depressed and solitary? How would he respond to someone showing a strong desire to be close to him in a situation where mc met him after the cult?
Please just feel free to ramble about him!! I hope it's okay to ask for this. I don't see many Grave posts anymore and I would love to hear from you. I hope this post makes it through ! !
SE Suit Saeran is still, at his core, based on Suit Saeran.
He is a little bit different but not all that much. Those changes are largely in part because he has been doing his best to survive in the background, constantly flickering in and out of consciousness for as long as he can remember. Saeran, in this case, SE Saeran, has been at the helm for a long time, but he’s always been there… watching… sitting on the edge when things get tough… but that’s just it.
After Saeran escapes Mint Eye and is forced to live with Saeyoung, there’s no reason for someone to be strong no matter what happens next to survive… there’s nothing but apathy in the bunker. That's how Saeran is handling his recovery for a large part of the time after being out of Mint Eye. Apathy is detachment and that detachment helps a huge part of his broken heart. It's better not to get his hopes up, but at least in the bunker, he doesn't have to live with:
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.
So, where does that put Grave, whose very existence comes from the need to survive no matter what Rika threw at them? It puts him back at rock bottom where he doesn't know how to exist. He lashes out at anyone and everyone, sans the MC if they already know Saeran, but they're not wholly immune from his meltdowns. They're just not high on his shit list. He doesn't know how to live without fighting, and that is a huge part of Grave's existence.
Learning how to survive without fighting for it.
His core struggle is true to his character no matter what timeline he's in, and that's not something we can wash away. He isn't as boisterous as you might expect him to be, but he's more like a feral cat because if you push him too hard? He's going to bite. He doesn't want people to tell him what to do. He doesn't want anybody to tell him what to do, because there's so much happening in the world now that he is fully conscious once again, and he needs some semblance of control over his autonomy.
It’s the same for SE Saeran.
There is only so much control they have because of the situation, and they need as much as they can get.
If you respect his space and allow him to decide what he's comfortable with, he's more likely to let you stick around than he would be if you did the opposite. You need to allow him to decide what he is and isn't comfortable with.
For the most part, he likes to be alone, because it's easier to be alone than to be around people who just don't understand what it's like to have your mind move a mile a minute.
Sometimes, he just wants to sit by himself and work on something and if somebody wants to do the same thing with him by sitting there and working on their own thing, that is largely preferable to sharing an activity with another person. Parallel play is a love of his. Once he warms up to you, he might offer to do an activity with you now and again, but he likes that you two can exist in the same space without always needing to be glued at the hip.
As far as getting close to an MC that wasn't in Mint Eye… hm. I know I've talked about this before at some point, but it's going to be hard to get close to him no matter when you met him. I don't think you have an advantage if you were in Mint Eye, nor do I think you have one if you meet him afterward. It's going to be difficult regardless simply due to the fact that Grave is wary of trusting anyone, even those who might be deemed safe by Saeran.
If you're willing to put in the work to respect him, he'll put in the work to understand you, it's as simple as that. Just be aware of the fact that he holds on to a lot of the more volatile memories, and that can make it hard for him to get close to other people. It's not because he wants to lash out at people, it's because he's afraid of lashing out at people again. He and Saeran carry the memory of hurting Jihyun (or in the case of my MC, hurting her in V’s stead on accident) and that memory is as heavy as a boulder.
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Since I can't, y'know, shut my mouth, I decided it's better to make a whole ass post about this so thank you @juniperjello for asking.
Here are my Top 13 Destiel Traxx AKA Fic Recs:
And This, Your Living Kiss (M) is a GODSEND I've read this more times than I can count, I even have NerdyNerdenstein's podfic of it saved on my phone, it is that good. It stars poet! Dean relearning his love for the arts and Literature professor! Castiel, whose favorite author just so happens to be Jack Allen (AKA Dean). I also love love loved the family dynamics here, it's all so homey and cozy. The poetry in this is stunning too. Highly recommend this one!
A Thousand Lies (E) follows con artist! Dean on his latest assignment of unraveling rich businessman! Crowley's secrets by playing as his secretary, all the while juggling dates with accountant! Castiel. Except there's more to them than meets the eye, and the plot gets thicker and thicker until you find yourself stuck to your phone for more than 4 hours, hopping from one chapter to the next. Yes that's exactly what happened to me lmao I was hooked, and stories like these where the angel fam are humans are always so fun. I love spotting the parallels and whatnot.
(goldenraeofsun, author of the previous fic, has a ton of fics I highly recommend so if you vibe with their style, go check out their account! I was torn about what to put here between "The Original Apple Pie Latte", "Not the Fire, but the Spark" and this—also I'm pretty sure I have half of their works bookmarked by now 😭)
Forget-Me-Not Blues (E) has all the correct vibes of a classic early 2000s romcom. It's set in Sam and Jessica's wedding, with Dean as the former's best man and Castiel as the latter's. Oh, and did I mention they have history? A particularly roughly-broken high school love story? That they absolutely refuse to acknowledge so now the wedding prep is so full of tension it's choking everybody? Yeah... This is a good one.
An Exercise In 'Worthless' (M) is one of the first destiel fics I've ever read. At that point, I was only on S2 or S3 and had no idea what was happening or who most of the other cast was, but the vibes were immaculate and reading it again as I progressed through the show, it just kept getting better. It's got tattoo artist! Dean whose shop is set up beside Gabriel's cafe (it's called the Physical Graffitea heh). It's got grad student! Castiel attending the same uni as Sam for a niche course in dialects. It's got Dean thinking Cas is more interested than Sam (missing the heart eyes Sam and Gabe are giving each other). It's got family feels!!!!!! as these four idiots live normal, non-supernatural lives!!!!!!!
Kissing Strangers (T/E) is a happy(!!!!!) queer awakening story, wherein Castiel realizes he's not as straight as he thought when he gets kissed by Dean for a social experiment. There's actually three fics in the series, the first one covers The Kiss while the next two are insights on the progress of destiel's relationship. It's really neat, and the author—sharkfish—has a lot of fics I've been reading this past week. (They have a lot of good ace! dean and/or ace! cas fics!!!!!!!!!!)
In Due Time (Dean Winchester is Saved) (T) is not only touching as hell but also mind-blowing. 26-year-old Dean is zapped to the future by an unknown power, and what does he see? Himself, happily settled; married to an angel of the frickin' lord with a son; and his brother, still hunting. THIS FIC IS AN ABSOLUTE GEM!!!! Baby Dean interacting with Cas means So Much to me.
Broadway Musical (T) is, in my humble opinion, an absolute banger and a classic. It's got the fun, lighthearted tone of a romcom and my favorite trope of "they may all be dicks but at least there's no murder" with the angel family. It's a reimagining of the first ever Armageddon: what if, instead of being the Righteous Man himself, Dean was chosen to father the two brothers of old with Jo Harvelle, with the entire Host of angels excitedly chattering about it in heaven. Except the cupid's arrow doesn't sink in, to either Dean or Jo, and they don't fall in love. So good ol' Cas comes down to take matters into his own (awkward) hands.
Sand and Salt (E) continues off of S9 fallen angel! Castiel. The timeline is important to me for two reasons, namely: Kevin and Charlie. Destiel are highlighted at the second half but the first is just Sam, Dean, Kevin, and Charlie helping Cas settle in as a human. They go to a mall to shop and eat and bond and they are so, so precious to me.
Carnival Oasis (E) is a series as well, but it's honestly SO worth it. We have creature! Castiel who eats sin and extremely guilty! Dean who first confessed his sins to Cas as a way to gauge what the fuck he is. But then he kept coming back. They get all gooey and shit here, as they should be. Plus the reveal on Cas' background??? It made me go insane I swear.
Convenient Husbands (E) is honestly just. So good. I've reread it multiple times over the past few weeks and it never gets tiring. This one's about hunter! Dean and Garuda! Castiel forming a marriage bond... Purely for convenience, of course. I'm also obsessed with the set-up of the hunting community in this AU, they got a whole network and base and it's awesome you should definitely read it. (Annie D also has a lot of fics on AO3 that you should check out—I'm very partial to "It's Always the End of the World Somewhere"!!)
This Witch!Cas AU series is based off of probably my most favorite story prompts to ever trend in Tumblr history: it's about witch! Cas who's moved to town after his grandmother's passing. Madame Novak's will is all that everyone's talking about, as it states that Castiel needs to marry to not only inherit the estate but also to keep his magick. Gardener and shopkeeper! Dean finds this tasteless, what with everyone treating Cas like he's just some prize and not, y'know, a person. Then, Castiel makes an announcement: he ties the key to the estate to his cat's collar, and whoever gets the key may take his hand as well. Everyone scrambles to chase after the surprisingly smart feline... except for Dean, who's slowly warming up to the little guy, and the cat to him in return.
it's brighter now (G/T) is actually a series but!!! It's a babyjackverse like come on, how can you resist that? This speaks for itself and it says all you will ever need in a fic, which is BABY JACK!!!!!!!!!!
conversations between brother & sister (T) is, simply put, criminally short but perfectly encapsulated my ideal ending for Supernatural. It's two fics; the first is about Jack and Emma, and the second is about Jack and Claire. The reason this is here is because I am a firm believer that this deserves more recognition and love and we need more AUs like this. Destiel are so, so tender and sweet but the main focus is, of course, Jack's conflicting feelings. I would leave a hundred thousand kudos on this if I could.
#honestly i had a REALLY hard time picking#these are simply the ones I've gone back to time and time again#they're the perfect digestible length for me to binge between breaks and stuff#i could do a whole other post about this with actual categories and shit#this fandom is insanely huge it's easy to get lost or overwhelmed with your choices#i know i was...#spn#supernatural#destiel#deancas#spn fic#spn fic rec#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic rec#dean x cas#cas x dean#casdean#dean x castiel#dean winchester#castiel#spn dean#spn cas#castiel angel of the lord#jack kline#claire novak#spn gabriel#sam winchester
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