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#i guess i could make up. a reason i need medical leave. i could........... break a leg on purpose. except that severer physical disability
unopenablebox · 1 year
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new sources of guilt for today:
fell asleep on the couch last night, could not be woken up enough to move, slept on couch for most of night before eventually regaining consciousness and going to bed
because set alarm in context of above, did not remember that i was going to need to get up with or before 🌸 in order to buy milk; accordingly 🌸 bought milk
allowed my dad’s insane thing about vacations to actually come out of my stupid mouth, have probably defused but will maybe have to re-defuse again later, 🌸 took it gracefully but jesus fucking christ
it’s not like i needed another reason to add to the list of reasons that it’s intrinsically impossible for me to stop doing this job but i’m pretty sure i’m hanging on to 🌸’s parents’ tolerance primarily through an adequate display of aspiration to upward mobility and quitting my phd would really bring my, um, solidly middle-class doesn’t-know-about-financial-instruments uncouth jewish executive dysfunction qualities back into the foreground
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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months
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What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.
It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.
It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.
It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.
Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…
Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.
When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.
One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.
Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.
You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.
You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.
Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?
It’s none of your business, in the end.
After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.
You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.
But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.
You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.
You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.
You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.
“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?
Why did that sound very unlikely…
“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”
He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.
…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.
“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.
“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.
“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”
Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.
You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.
Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.
A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…
Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.
And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.
It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.
‘Beloved Son and Brother.’
Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.
Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.
He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.
The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.
You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.
“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”
“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.
It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.
From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.
Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.
You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.
If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.
Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.
He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.
“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.
You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.
“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.
“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.
What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?
Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.
You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”
He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.
“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.
Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.
On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.
As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.
He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.
“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.
“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.
“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.
You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.
…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.
This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.
Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.
You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.
You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.
Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…
“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.
“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.
Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.
Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!
“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.
Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.
“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.
“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.
“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.
“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.
And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?
Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.
You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.
“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.
This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.
“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”
His voice trails off. Little what?
He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”
Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.
“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.
See? You could do this. Stealthy.
As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.
It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.
“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.
Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.
“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.
It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.
“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.
Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.
You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.
Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.
“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.
“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.
“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”
Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.
Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.
The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”
And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”
Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.
“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.
Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.
You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.
“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”
“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”
And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.
-
Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.
“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.
It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-
You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.
“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”
“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.
“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.
“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.
“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”
“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”
“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.
Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.
“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.
You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.
“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”
“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.
Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.
And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.
“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.
Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.
Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.
“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.
“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.
Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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cameronspecial · 7 months
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heyyy i am so glad to see someone write for zach. if you like this maybe you could give it your take. so zach and reader are like exes and they reunite unexpectedly then zach gets hit by a car and gets a concussion then forgets about their break-up and still think that they are together.
The Amnesiac's Mistake
Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.6K
Masterlist
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The sweet roars of the crowd fill her ears as Y/N points her camera at the soccer team. She’s been the soccer team’s social media content creator for the university since her sophomore year. After her breakup with Zach, it was a little awkward, but they left the relationship on amicable terms and she wouldn’t let a breakup keep her from her dream job. “And MacLaren has the ball. He’s running it up the fie- Oh, MacLaren is down. It looks like the medics are on the way,” the sports announcer’s scream emits from the booming speakers. Y/N removes the camera from her eyes, watching in worry while the medics take Zach off the field. If they had been dating, she would’ve been running after them but it’s no longer her right to be there for him. 
——
Zach blinks to readjust his eyes to the room's lights. The medic puts the flashlight back in her pocket, “You seem to have a concussion, Mr. MacLaren. I’m afraid you’ll be out of any games for the foreseeable future and any screens for the next forty-eight hours.” Zach nods, l looking around for his girlfriend. “Where’s Y/N?” he questions. Coach Grace’s eyebrows knit together, “She’s out on the field. Doing her job.” Her slow pace drives him crazy. “Why isn’t she here? I need her here,” he states with his lips slopping to a frown. The medic knows about the breakup as well and this causes her to question if she should add something to his diagnosis. 
“Mr. MacLaren, what is the last thing you remember?” she asks. Zach’s hand comes to his forehead, “Uh, we were playing the game against UNC.” Coach Grace’s face scrunches like a dried-up raisin. “That was two months ago,” she breaks the news to him. His eyebrows raise and his mouth drops, “How is that possible? Where is Y/N? She’s my girlfriend. She’s allowed to be here.”
——
Coach Grace runs to Y/N, who is talking to another player on the field. She spots the coach and worry flushes her because it must be serious if Zach was okay, it wouldn’t be taking this long for him to come back out. “Hey, Coach. Is everything alright?” Coach’s head shakes, “No, Zach needs you.” Even with the breakup, Y/N dashes toward the medical room, almost tripping over her feet. Her breath comes out like a panting dog as she stands in the middle of the room. Her hands are on her knees, searching for Zach. His eyes light up when he spots her. He hops off the medical table and rushes towards her, “Are you okay, Baby? Take a deep breath in and out.” She does as he suggests, letting her breath return to normal. Her body straightens up, so they are face to face. He gives her a charming smirk, bringing his hand up to her cheek. His lips find hers. For a moment, she lets them get swept up in the moment, kneading his lips with hers. 
She finally snaps back into reality, remembering what happened between them. Her lips leave his with a tiny shove to his chest to keep her away. “Zach, we broke up,” she whispers. The scrunch between his eyebrows smoothes out. Her words bring him back to the present. “Right, right. Sorry. I think I lost my memory for a second,” he reasons. She bites her lip, nodding her head with her eyes cast down, “It’s okay. I guess I’ll just go then.” He watches as she makes her exist. The kiss they shared showed him he made a mistake. They still had that spark and he let her get away. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
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maltedghost · 2 years
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The Omori Fanbase and Misunderstanding of Psychosis
This is going to be more ranty than anything else, so I apologize for that. I think it’s important that I also clarify this is coming from my personal opinion, and not everyone thinks the same.
I may as well mention, I have gone through psychosis for two years and have dealt with long term mental illness my entire life; it’s an uphill battle, and it’s something that never truly goes away. Medication is needed to properly maintain the symptoms of psychosis, and I want that to be kept in mind while reading this.
Here we go
For a game that emphasizes how mental health can take hold of and deteriorate the psyche, I’m surprised/somewhat disgusted by how a majority of the omori fanbase characterizes Basil as an obsessive yandere who is nothing but clingy and all smiles.
I also think it’s important to remember that DW Basil is what Sunny/Omori wants him to be, the same way Sunny/Omori creates the rest of his friends to be ‘perfect’ (which is why he keeps killing DW Basil when he steps out of line from that ‘perfect’ and ‘delicate’ persona).
That being said…
The fanbase is able to separate the DW and RW versions of the characters, but for some reason, this is not the case with Basil. Basil is treated as being exactly the same in RW like he is in DW; clingy, obsessive, and childish (when in reality he is fearing for his life and avoiding everyone like the plague—especially Sunny).
But why is that? My only guess can be is that this is another case of people misunderstanding symptoms of psychotic episodes.
When someone is going through psychosis, reality becomes distorted. You are unable to think or act correctly. Every day is waking up in fear, paranoid that something is going to come get you. It becomes difficult to distinguish what is real and what is not real. You don’t trust anyone, and you have the feeling of constantly being watched. Every day is a waking nightmare, and every night is a battle to fall asleep. It’s impossible to run away from your delusions, and they follow you everywhere you go like some festering parasite that only grows stronger over time.
Basil’s mind has clearly deteriorated throughout those four years. It only makes sense his paranoia and delusions became worse over time, eventually evolving into full psychosis; auditory, visual, tactile hallucinations… its made explicitly clear in-game that Basil suffers from all of these.
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As represented by Basil’s SOMETHING, he is quite literally being eaten alive by his guilt and paranoia.
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Now, as for anyone who has dealt with psychotic breaks, you’ll know that pushing away those thoughts only make them worse. Which brings me to my next point:
Basil is not obsessed with Sunny. He quite literally has no choice but to think about him. I truly believe he tried pushing away any reminders of his trauma, and I imagine during his first year alone, he tried giving up on the idea that Sunny would be there with him so they could have each other’s backs. He most likely tried moving on and living life as normally as he could.
But that’s not how PTSD works.
Basil’s trauma, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, haunted him every day—thus, Sunny haunted him every day. Every day, Basil’s paranoia had been reminding him of what happened, who was there, and what was promised.
This is what leads him into his psychosis, and his haunted perception of Sunny.
When Basil finally sees Sunny for the first time after four years, he’s not happy. He’s more-so nervous than anything else.
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Sunny is a reminder of his trauma, and it’s made clear Basil isn’t ready to face him given he never wants to join your party.
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(Displaying disoriented speech)
When he finds out that Sunny came out after all these years just to leave again (he didn’t even hear it from Sunny), of course that would trigger a psychotic response; thus, Basil retreats into the bathroom and manically repeats the phrase that’s gotten him through those four horrid, lonely years.
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(Repetition of words/rumination)
While hallucinating as Sunny seemingly enters the bathroom to comfort him after all these years, he’s left alone again to be consumed by his paranoia. This goes on for the remainder of the game; Basil actively avoiding the party and staying inside, believing there is no hope left for him or Sunny.
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(Foreshadowing suicidal thoughts)
And then his grandma passes.
Something interesting is that every interaction with RW Basil always leads to a fear response from Basil. Even if the incident from four years ago is never brought up, it’s obvious it’s constantly on his mind (again, psychosis consumes your every waking thought).
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(he immediately becomes paranoid around Sunny, talking about Mari, unprompted).
And then there’s Basil’s meltdown.
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(Hostility)
Some more symptoms of psychosis is sometimes having to deal with bouts of aggressiveness, word repetition, restlessness, and of course, frenzied/incoherent speaking.
When these meltdowns happen, it often reveals innermost thoughts and/problems, but in a more panicked sort of way. With that said…
I believe Basil’s dialogue in this scene reveals how he truly feels about Sunny.
Taking on the responsibility of hiding a horrid truth, all by himself, for four years—the guilt, paranoia, hallucinations getting worse and worse—and then finding out that the only other person who knows about this horrible sin is about to leave you again; but this time, forever. It’s cruel, and I don’t blame Basil for feeling some type of resentment towards Sunny.
(Part of me views Sunny losing his eye as punishment for his sins, but that’s just me).
Conclusion
I guess what I wanted to get across was that I’m sick of seeing people mischaracterize yet another psychotic character as nothing but a creepy yandere. I find it insulting to those who have gone through either short or long term psychosis (including me), and any of those who may still be dealing with psychotic breaks. I really want to see the fanbase do better, especially when this is a game that can be seen as mental health awareness.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t horribly saddened by OMORI’s neutral endings. Seeing Basil commit suicide and succumb to his psychosis is scary, and it’s something so many people dealing with mental illness fear every day. It’s a reminder of what could have happened to me had I not gotten the support and help I needed (meds, friends, family).
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Afterthoughts
I don’t think Basil hates Sunny. Does that mean They should continue being friends? Well, maybe; exposure response therapy is usually helpful for dealing with things like this, and if Basil were to continue avoiding Sunny like the plague I believe it would only make his mental health worse (also of course Basil shouldn’t have stabbed out Sunny’s eye but my boy was hallucinating throw him a bone).
In reality, I think Basil just wants things to go back to the way they were, just like everyone else does. It’s very clear given the context of the game that Sunny and Basil have a special bond (“a red string of fate”).
If anything, I believe Sunny is more obsessed with Basil than Basil is with him, but that’s a different post for the future.
…and don’t even get me started on how Sunny told the truth then left Basil to pick up the scraps and deal with the aftermath of his friends.
…and no, I still have no idea what is up with Basil getting the idea to hang Mari.
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euphoricimagination · 8 months
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Summary: The second selection is about to start after days of rigorous training, you end up meeting new faces, confronting some; but who will you team up with?
Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 -> Masterlist
You are chilling in the dorm room the next day, giving yourselves a free day to rest after such an intense match from yesterday so you could recover properly. You were coming back from the bathroom when you heard Raichi scream, not something unusual, but something that still made you rush towards it.
"HUH" he says as you enter "WE'RE NOT STARTING THE SECOND SELECTION ROUND RIGHT AWAY?!"
"Keep it down, there's a waiting period before the second round begins" Ego says, you sit next to Chigiri
"What did I miss?" You ask him
"Not much, just Ego saying that there's some time in between and Raichi freaking out"
"Got it"
"You'll be doing some rigorous strength training, however, you're not allowed to touch a ball. Anyone who breaks this rule or refuses to participate will be expelled" Ego keeps explaining
You start zoning out as Ego keeps talking, just thinking how exhausting this whole new regimen would be. You managed to pass, but it was barely over, so everyone needed to be stronger than you already are.
And just like that the next day started your training from hell:
9:00: 2 HOUR ENDURANCE RUN X 2 SETS
14:00: EXTREME CORE TRAINING 1 HOUR X 2 SETS
16:00: WEIGHT TRAINING
18:00: SPRINTING 100 ROUNDS
20:00: MEALTIME
You barely are able to breathe at the end of day one, laying on the grass alongside Chigiri after just finishing your sprinting rounds.
"This can't be legal" you say in between short breaths
"I'm wondering the same" Chigiri says chuckling "Do they want to kill us?"
"Couldn't he build this up? Like, did he rea-" you try to add, getting cut up by the speaker
«Player Yn, please come to get a health check up»
"Eh?" You sit up
"I guess they want to make sure you're doing ok, after all you passed out on a match"
"True"
"Go, save yourself from this misery" Chigiri helps you stand up.
You starts walking towards the where the medical check is, undoing your binder in the way assuming the medics already knew about you. You sat down on the couch while waiting for them when the door opened, revealing Ego and Anri there.
"This ain't a health check up, isn't it?" You sigh
"Nope" Ego brings a chair to sit in front of you "I need to discuss something with you"
"I tried to stop him Yn-chan, but this time it seems a reasonable thing to talk about" adds Anri, looking at you worried
"It's alright, Anri-san, go ahead"
"Well, I'll put it simply" Ego starts "To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to pass the first selection. I did want Team Z to grow, but considering who their opponents were, I had little hope. You, however, became the top scorer with no yellow or red cards, meaning that even if your team lost, you would pass"
"Okay…"
"I initially just wanted you to join for the first selection only, you already accomplished your job and helped them bloom, but I can't eliminate you now. You became friends with your team, so the excuse of you dropping out or having health problems wouldn't work on them now. My only option is for you to continue"
"I don't get it, it's that good?" You ask
"I can't eliminate you without raising suspicions, so I just wanted to remind you that you can't become the world's best striker, as long as you remember that we'll be fine"
"I know, you don't have to worry"
"You may leave then" Ego says, making you stand up towards the door while thinking, you need to find a way to drop out without making it look weird, but how? Do you actually want to leave just yet? Sure, this was a lot to deal with, the training, the whole binder thing, but at the same time, it was one of the first times you have had so much fun. Well, for now you just have to survive this hell of a training, then you'd think of that.
And you survive one, two, three…you survive the whole 10 days of that, barely, but you do.
On the eleventh day, a loud alarm starts sounding at 6:30 am
«DING DONG DING DOOONG» You barely are able to open your eyes, hearing a bunch of groans around you as everyone starts waking up. You notice a red hair weirdly close to your face, soon realizing that you and Chigiri were laying close to each other; however, it doesn't worry you much, after all the whole team barely manages to get into bed after training
«AT THIS TIME BLUE LOCK'S FIRST SELECTION ROUND HAS BEEN COMPLETED FOR ALL WINGS. ALL PLAYERS WHO HAVE CLEARED THE FIRST ROUND, PLEASE PUT ON YOUR TRAINING SUITS»
Since everyone was so tired to properly think, a combination of how early it was plus the pure exhaustion in your bodies, that you all change your clothes in automatic mode, quickly going down stairs as the loud ones hype everyone up.
"You look awful" Chigiri says to you once you start to pass the second selection sign
"So do you" you retort "nervous?"
"Kinda, but I'm mostly excited"
The moment you enter the area you see a bunch of other players entering too, players that you haven't seen before and yet they were wearing armbands with Team W, X and Y on their arms. You can see Barou, Niko, Nagi and Reo close to you, meaning that the 25 players of Wing 5 were here…then who were the other ones and why do they have those letters on them?
"Hi there, you lumps of talent" Ego appears on the giant TV "Good job on your physical training"
"Your kidding" you mumble to yourself once it clicked, both Chigiri and Kunigami look at you waiting for you to continue "everyone here thought that they were at the bottom of the ranks, every wing was Wing 5 with teams from V to Z"
"That's messed up" Kunigami says
"It is" you move behind Chigiri, plopping your head into his back without processing your movements much "let me know if he says something important"
As Ego explains this to the rest of the players a bunch of complaints start to arise, which sends Ego into a long rant about how all professional players had lived through the worst and soccer became their only way to survive.
"Now, let's start with the second selection round" Ego says "in our brand new training fields, you'll be fighting to turn your 1 into a 100. The second selection round has five stages, only the ones who clear a particular stage are able to level up and advance to the next one. Clearing the challenge in the first stage is your next objective, and those who are able to clear all five stages in the second selection will participate in a special training camp with top players from around the world who I’ve selected"
Everyone seems amazed by this revelation, and you can't help but wonder what is he talking about, he never told you something about these top players that were going to challenge you, but then again, you weren't supposed to get this far in the first place
"Once you've prepared yourself, enter the gate one at a time. The first stage is an individual battle, once you go in, you can't go back. This second selection will sort out the garbage, only the true egoists will remain. Good Luck"
With that, the TV turns off, an unsettling feeling fills the room, everyone chatter about what's happening and what will happen after.
"It's that…all?" Chigiri asks
"Well, what more do you want?" You ask starting to stretch to do the challenge as soon as possible "it's simple, you enter, pass and we see each other again"
"Only you would be so calm about this" he pats your head "but yeah, when you put it like that it doesn't sound so bad"
"It really doesn't sound bad" Kunigami adds, much more relaxed "Look, it seems like he's going"
You turn around and see a dude, quite emo looking to be honest, taking two balls out of the basket, kicking one in a high trajectory and the other with a low trajectory, both balls hitting each other in the middle. He then enters the door without even looking back at anyone. Itoshi Rin can be read on the screen.
"That was cool" you whisper, you feel a slight tension build up after that, so you just keep stretching while looking around to see potential players. A dude with redish color hair and a single braid, a cyan hair that looks similar to your height and a dude with curly black hair and glasses caught your eyes. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab your arm, pulling you into an almost closed circle.
"Don't forget about us so quickly" Chigiri laughs as he ruffles your hair, his arm passing through your shoulders "you were the more badass of all"
"You have to say it though, it doesn't count if an egoist doesn't say it" Kunigami smirks
"But i already know my goals were amazing" you say, making the two laugh
"Talking like a true egoist" says Iemon "LET'S ALL MEET IN THE NEXT ROUND!!"
"YEAH!!"
"Saying that…" you start, making all eyes turn to you "I'll go first, see you!"
"EH?! HOW DARE YOU? WAIT! YN, YOU IDIOT!" you hear Raichi scream as you quickly go into the gate. You turn around quickly, seeing Bachira laughing alongside Isagi while waving their hands at you, Chigiri just shaking his head with a smirk and Kunigami laughing while stopping Raichi's whines.
Walking through the hallways you couldn't help but to feel excited, it was finally time to let your abilities shine by yourself without having to care about the others.
You enter the first stage, a big, white room with barely anything on it. Suddenly you hear a loud noise from behind, a cannon-looking thing appearing on the wall and shooting a ball at you. You trap it easily, a blue hologram appearing as soon as you do that. In the walls behind him appear a goal zone, a sign with a clock of 90 minutes, and a light shines on you, a light that slowly starts getting smaller the more seconds pass. The only conclusion that you arrived at was that you had to score a goal past the goalie and before the light became too small, so you just lifted the ball a little to pretend to hit it high before actually sending it low.
You mark a goal easily and soon after the ball comes from the other side of the room; you keep shooting and scoring, the game getting harder each goal you make. You end up doing it almost flawlessly, missing only a few shots in the beginning of each level, leaving the first stage with 25 minutes to spare.
You were the second one to enter the second stage, only Itoshi Rin was already there. He barely raised his head once he saw you enter, a slight confusion appearing at the number in your arm and how short you took to complete the first stage.
"Hey" he says, almost with disdain as he examines you "you were fast, join me"
"..." You look at him with the same look he was giving you "why would i do that?"
"Eh? I just need two more, it doesn't really matter who those are"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, to me you are just a stepping stone to become the best in the world"
"Well, I'm nobody's 'stepping stone', so kindly fuck off" you say with a sarcastic smile, receiving an annoyed sound from the boy.
You sit there in silence for a good 10 minutes before the next player arrives.
The next one is the boy with curly hair and glasses that you saw right before the first stage; he, when seeing Rin looking at him with a sour expression, decided to come to sit near you, arriving with a polite smile.
"Hi" he says as he sits down "have we played with each other?"
"Hey, no we haven't, I'm Yn"
"Nice to meet you, Yukimiya Kenyu" he presents himself "how long ago did you finish?"
"About ten minutes ago, I've been here with that ass alone for way too long" you say, making the boy chuckle
"That was fast, you must be good then"
"I guess" in that moment the door opened again, revealing a familiar white hair who almost immediately comes to your side and plops down
"What a pain" is the first thing Nagi says "so now we have to make teams of 3?"
"It looks like it, are you gonna wait for Reo?"
"Yeah, I guess, you for that Red head? You two look close"
"If he arrives soon then sure, I'm down to try to team up with others though. What about your third teammate? Any idea?"
"Yeah, i want Isagi Yoichi"
"Thanks for the consideration" you joke, making Nagi look at you with an indecipherable look
"You're good too, but in that match that we lost i decided i wanted to try to play with him, i want to become better"
"I get it, don't worry. Look Reo's here" you say when the door opened, revealing the purple hair boy, who immediately starts talking to Nagi after he greets you
"So…" you hear from beside you "waiting on someone?"
"I guess, I don't know if he wants to team up though, and I can't wait for much longer in case the good options run out"
"Kind of brutal, but I get it, you want to team up with good options or ones that compliment you well. You're lucky though, not everyone has someone that they work together here"
"You don't?"
"Not really, my team managed to win a lot, but nobody tried to get too close to anyone" he smiles "I'm gonna go talk to some of them in the meantime, should we team up if things don't go to our plans?"
"Sure, if not I'll see you later"
"Good luck" with that Yukimiya leaves to talk to other players
At that moment you noticed Isagi, and closed after Bachira, entering the room. You crossed eyes with him, he seemed indecisive about coming to where you were or not before the decision was made for him. Nagi went to where he was, followed by Reo and said something that left everyone shocked, probably asking Isagi if he wanted to join his team with Reo. But something happened, something that left Reo shocked before Isagi, Bachira and Nagi start walking towards the door.
"Hey Yn" Isagi says "we thought about you joining us, but Nagi…"
"I get it, if Nagi asked me I too wouldn't have thought much about it and let him join. I'll wait for Chigiri"
"Okay, see you then"
"See you Yn-chan!!" Bachira adds and Nagi nods at you
Reo comes back where you are, looking depressed as he sits down again. The door opens again, Chigiri finally coming in.
"Finally, what took you so long?" You say, high fiving him as he came closer
"Some of us actually went in turns to enter, you know?" He answers with a smirk "Waiting for me?"
"Well, yeah, wanted to make sure you pass" you say, making him laugh, ruffling your hair
"So, a three man team? Should we wait for Isagi?" He asks, already teaming you together
"Isagi already went on with Bachira and Nagi"
"They left you here? They left us here? Those assholes"
"Right? But Nagi wanted to play with him, and honestly, if Nagi had ask me to join with him, i would leave behind too"
"Fair"
"So..do we wait for Kunigami or..?" He asks
"I have an idea…" you say, looking at Reo at your side. Chigiri follows your gaze, also looking at Reo before raising his eyebrow, a questioning look on his eyes "i would love Kunigami in our team, but realistically, we need someone that can help us bring the best of us, so…"
"I see" Chigiri pouts slightly, thinking "I'll trust you, I'm sure Kunigami will understand"
"Hey Reo" you call him, the boy looking up at you with a sad look "wanna team up with us?"
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Note
And why exactly Luminous Luisa decided to smash the old hag?
Many reasons.
Long story short, his treatment of herself and the rest of her family, in particular her sisters.
I won’t discuss the obvious things - Isabela being giftless, Bruno leaving, etc.
With herself, Luisa was the perfect golden child. She was built up to be as powerful as goddess, she always had to be strong and unaffected, while also remaining in complete control of her gift and emotions.
Sometimes she had to force herself into certain feelings for particular weather patterns that the town relied on (such as good weather for crops). She would have to find ways to make herself feel whatever was needed, not that she could ever let said feelings show - she had to appear unaffected, even in her emotions. To the point, she was viewed as just controlling the weather; the townspeople have mostly forgotten it is attached to her emotions and not something she just clicks her fingers for.
Having to always be strong also meant she’s never seen a doctor and has never been healed by Mirabel - she has snuck some of Mirabel’s cooking at night, but she doesn’t know what does what: sometimes she guesses right, most she doesn’t. She just been left to be sick or injured and just has to force herself work and smile through it. Such things can pile up and make her feel worse.
Mirabel has basically been feeding an entire town since her fifth birthday, being the superior medical professional in Encanto. Pedro made the decision that most of the food should just be made by Mirabel, as her gift will keep everyone healthy and it’ll be more effective.
Subsequently, she is ridiculously overworked. Do remember that she is still attending school throughout this and has the highest grades of her family (second only to Dolores). She has never received any kind of break, not even her birthday or family occasion, because Pedro does not want anyone to lose someone like he lost his Alma. Pedro often remakes that she’s lucky she still gets sleep and frequently calls her a failure/useless. The first time he did so was after a funeral - the person had been come down with a sickness - gesturing to the coffin and the heartbroken family over the grave.
Then, of course, there is her sensitive nature and squeamishness. Which is the only reason she’s never managed to succeed Luisa in his affections. He’s used the same technique as he does in Imperfect, forcing Mirabel to see severe injuries stupidly young, albeit not as often (his main focus was Luisa here, once he gave up on Mirabel a few months after her birthday). He is fairly rough with her and has definitely caused minor injuries, but nothing to the extent of Fracture.
It’s him hitting Mirabel (in front of Luisa and Isabela, just after their reconciliation moment) that officially makes Luisa snap. The rest was just boiling away over time and she would have done so eventually anyways.
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razor-tits · 5 months
Text
A very long and over due life update.
So, to start this off I guess I need to back up. Let's start in October. It feels like yesterday but also a lifetime ago. Things were...ok I'd say. Boring, routine, the only shake up was my hormones ran out and my job was changing our insurance, so I had to cancel my follow up appointment for bloodwork and a refill. But then I got some bad news from my parents.
My dad had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He was ok, but he needed surgery. First they thought just a stent, but then decided he needed a triple bypass. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, but we're kind of distant. I live a few hours away and only see them around the holidays but we talk on the phone weekly. My dad can lean a little on the conservative side but both of them are the absolute salt of the earth. They're done so much to help me and I felt powerless to be able to help. I couldn't leave work and felt like there was nothing I could do.
The next couple weeks were rough, my dad was staying in the hospital, my mom was going back and forth staying with him and taking care of my grandma, who is in her late 80's and has a litany of health issues. On a Friday I finally managed to make the drive home and spend the weekend there. Seeing my dad laid up in a hospital gown tied to machines is something i'll never forget. He could get up and move and acted like he was ok. But he's one of those guys you meet and you think he's invincible. The kind of guy that put a new roof on our house with a broken finger and can't turn away a stray animal at the door. Some family members I hadn't seen in a long time came and went over the weekend. Thoughts of our own mortality set in and I realize this could be the last time I see any of them.
I've lost people before. Some of them suddenly and unexpectedly. Others who's death was almost a sigh of relief after fighting for so long. I never got to say goodbye when my friend died and I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I don't want to feel that again, ever.
The day of surgery came. He was in the OR for 3 hours but it felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. A few hours after that my mom and I were able to see him. He was extubated already, which was a good sign. But he was on heavy medication, incoherent, coming in and out of sleep. But he knew I was there and that's all that mattered.
I had to leave and make my way back to my parents to get my dog, and then make the 2 hour drive back to Ohio and go back to work in the morning. At this point I knew my dad would be ok, he just had to get through recovery. But now thoughts of my own health were worrying me. I'm not in the best shape, I don't exercise or work out. I've already had surgery to fix stomach problems. Everyone on my dad's side has heart problems, and everyone on my mom's side has cancer and diabetes. There's not much I do to prevent any of that. I'm in my 30's and I feel it, maybe more than I should.
Over the next couple months my mental health continues to fall. I had a birthday and spent it sick, as I always seem to do. It's always a rough time of year for me. Seasonal depression kicks in, I get older, and another year passes. My dog, my best friend, the reason I kept myself alive, is getting old. I see it more and more every day and it breaks my heart.
The holidays came and went. I saw my grandma for the first time in a few years. Always wondering if it will be the last. Despite that, this year I never felt less in the holiday spirit. I used to love this time of year, now I desperately try to enjoy it, but part of me just wants it to be over. The best part seems to be a few days off work.
At this point it should be noted I have not restarted hormones. My identity has always been more in flux than i've let on, and maybe that needs to be it's own post, but I don't know if I want to start again or not. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my goals are. I don't know who i am. Beyond basic hygiene, I really don't even feel like taking care of myself most days. I pretty much always feel melancholic. I'm not angry, I don't get excited, I don't have much joy. My sex drive is non existent and I have no desire to do...well, anything.
New year's comes and I honestly couldn't care. It feels like another day. My gf and I go out and have an Ok time. I'm just so tired all the time it's hard for me to go out and enjoy myself like I used to.
And then, a couple days ago my landlord calls. We have to move out. Not sure when, but probably soon. I'm heartbroken and panicking over it. We absolutely love our house. We've only been here about a year and a half but it's been wonderful. It has plenty of room, privacy, it's quiet. We can leave our doors unlocked and packages aren't stolen off our porch. We're allowed both of our dogs and all 3 of our cats with no issues. We've invested so much time and money here. My gf is close with the owners and their children, who were the previous tenants. We even thought about trying to buy this house off of them when their other kid moves out of the downstairs apartment. And it's affordable. Anything else like what we have now will cost double and we can't afford that.
Our last apartment was tiny, cramped, dark and ran by an awful property investment company. And now we have to deal with that again. If we can even find a place where we can take 5 animals. We can hide 2 of the cats, but not all of them. We're in no position to buy nor do we have the time to go through the process. My gf said we may have to find 2 different apartments and live separately for a while. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. I can't live without her, I can't live without our pets. We're a family. I don't know what to do.
Since I got the phone call I've done nothing but panic, contact rental agencies and weigh my options. None of them are good. Best case scenario is we move in a smaller, worse place, paying more rent.
Nothing is going right for me. I know this isn't insurmountable and nothing that people haven't gone through before. But...god damn I need a break and I can't get one.
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Wow, I did not expect for you to finish chapter one so soon!
Oh damn, that's a lot. Also, Tomura choosing to make a deal with him right as Dabi dies is mean. Expected in a fic like this, but mean. I don't think Dabi would have ended up as a demon otherwise? At least not from what is said in the beginning.
I guess his rage about Enji's accusations and the fact that he was being executed caught Tomura's interest? Or maybe Tomura was already watching the Todoroki's, hmmm.
Thank you Spinner, that is very comforting. I too would like to hear that I owe you my life in order to trust you. For real though, I always love it when you write Spinner as a healer/doctor in your fics.
Okay, so colours are assigned to the sins, yes? I'm assuming red for wrath, because that's always Tomura's colour. Purple for pride, since it's at the center of the door. Light blue for sloth, since you mentioned that that's Spinner's sin and he has a blue pattern in his clothes.
Spinner leaving as soon as the job is done. He did explain a little more than he needed to though, so it's not like he was entirely unhelpful. Lol.
Dabi's clothes do have red detailing. I wonder if it's because he went to hell because of wrath, or because he belongs to Tomura. Probably the second, since Tomura complains about how weak his wrath is.
Well, that sure is one way to test the limits of the bond. I wonder if Tomura is made aware of all the times Dabi tries to break the deal?
Tomura feeding Dabi fruit while he is studying to see how long it takes him to notice is so funny to me. He really has been fairly lenient. For a demon prince, that is. I wonder how much someone's aspect influences their personality? Does Shigaraki feel a need for violence and rage at all times? It would explain some of his behaviour.
Oop, there comes the envy. We know it's not going to be Dabi's aspect, but yeah. I can see what you mean when you said it would have been in other circumstances.
Dabi tries to indulge. He tries so hard to get stronger so that he can have a chance of maybe someday getting away from Shigaraki. Not that that will ever happen.
What a note to end on! Shigaraki is right about Dabi needing to let go of the teachings of the church, but it's very little time to relearn everything that used to define you.
Lol mean, but Dabi didn't offer himself up for a deal until that moment so it's really on him, isn't it? And yes, in theory, not offering that deal should have meant Everlasting for him, but he'll just never know, now will he?
He definitely caught Tomura's interest for a few reasons, but I guess we'll have to wait and see what those were 😏
It's gotta be someone, and while I like Twice and Toga going into medicine if they're going to recover and be rehabilitated from villainy, I don't think it would fit them as villains, since her quirk is so good for espionage and his is so good in a fight, therefore they would always be stuck doing that for the greater good of their friends. Meanwhile, in recovery, I don't think Spinner would want anything to do with the medical field, but he would do it as a villain if it meant that he could make himself more useful to his friends since his quirk is so weak.
Colors are assigned to the sins! Like according to Google they have canonical colors which I looked up to use for this! Envy is green, dark blue is Lust, light blue is Sloth, red is Wrath, purple is Pride, orange is Gluttony, and yellow is Greed! I was originally going to make up my own colors, but I decided to go with these ones to keep any confusion at bay for people who were already familiar with the canon ones!
Spinner is a sleepy little guy! Let him rest!! He's also wearing a ruby because it shows which prince owns their soul, hence also why someone unclaimed by an aspect yet, is also wearing red!
Tomura absolutely knows.
Dabi is an adorable little garbage disposal while he's distracted, or you could just try handing him/balancing things on him and wait to see how long it takes for him to notice. Tomura has definitely been lenient, but his patience has its limits! There will be more details about how aspects effect one as the story progresses, but it's pretty safe to say that it impacts all aspects of their daily lives!
Envy and Wrath are both great aspects for Dabi in canon but in this story? After being able to have a good relationship with the rest of his family for eleven years? Nah, he's too sad about losing them to be as angry about it as he should be.
Dabi is trying! But yeah, the church has a stranglehold on him. But maybe Shigaraki's leading by example and taking a more... 'hands-on' approach to Dabi's indulgences will help with that 😏😏😏
Thank you so much for commenting!
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rinwritesfics · 11 months
Text
How (Not) to Heal - Chapter 13
Plot: After being rescued from Mount Tantiss, Crosshair has to figure out how to work with the Batch again - and their new medic. It would be fine if he didn’t start to fall in love with her.
Warnings: Angst, in-universe swearing and real swearing, allusion to sex at the end
Word Count: 2101
Author’s Note: This is the final chapter, everyone! Special thanks to @starrylothcat for the beta, and all the help you've given me through this series to keep Crosshair, well, Crosshair.
Previously - Start Here!
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Chapter 13
When he returned to the ship, his feet nearly dragged. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky. He didn’t pay attention to his brothers’ arguing at first, but nearly running into Echo caused him to stop.
Echo frowned. “She’s not here.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, she came back to return her medkit, then left again. She was afraid she’d run into you.”
Crosshair pushed past Echo without a word, growling, and put away his Firepuncher. He took off his helmet and left it on one of the analyst chairs in the main body of the ship, then headed to the cockpit.
The bickering got more difficult to ignore as he entered.
“No, Wrecker, I believe she said she would not be around him if he was the last man in the galaxy.”
Crosshair looked away, stern gaze threatening to break as tears filled his eyes. He then stormed off, unable to control it anymore. This was his fault, and he knew it. These were the consequences of his own actions.
He had to find her and at least apologize. He called Hunter, who begrudgingly admitted her location, and then he set off into the forest.
The trees weren’t crowded against each other, nor was the underbrush extra thick, so he was able to see pretty far through the forest. His superior eyesight certainly helped, as well.
Then, he spotted a glimpse of her, and he swallowed thickly, trying to push back tears of relief. She was sitting under a massive tree, her knees hugged to her chest and chin resting on them. The closer he got, the more tears he could see on her face.
“I came out here to be alone,” she said, her voice wavering. Of course she knew he was coming, even if she didn’t turn her head. When she looked up, more tears filled her eyes.
“You know,” she continued, voice cracking, “I thought I was doing fine. That I wasn’t being a burden. That maybe I was becoming a valuable member of the team. I guess I was wrong.”
“I -”
“Go away, Crosshair.”
“No.” He knelt down in front of her.
“First you hurt me, now you won’t leave me alone. Are you trying to hurt me for some reason? What could your smug ass gain from driving me away?!”
“Nothing, okay!? I know I hurt you, and I admit that! I came to apologize and ask for you to at least listen to that! I know what I said was awful, and you didn’t deserve that. I’m the di’kut here. You did nothing wrong. You have done everything right. And I’m sorry.”
“Why, Crosshair? Why did you say it?” Her tone quiets as she speaks, a crackle in her voice. She curls more into herself and looks off into the forest, not making eye contact with him.
He looks to the side, then sighs. “Because I couldn’t stand that I’d fallen for you. And with my brothers teasing me over it, I said terrible things to get them to shut up. I don’t care if we argue over anything else, but you? I can hardly control myself around you, let alone keep my head at the mention of you. But I understand if you don’t forgive me. I just wanted you to know that I know you did nothing to deserve that.”
Her lips parted. “I-I don’t know if I can forgive you for saying what you said to get your brothers to stop picking on you.” She paused, then said, “You love me?”
He nodded, suddenly at a loss for words, and looked away.
“I think I need some time to process this. I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.”
“I understand. Just come back soon, it’s getting dark.” His voice was quiet and he turned and walked away.
Over the next couple days, Crosshair gave her space, not looking at her, but not avoiding her. Anything she needed, he’d help with in some subtle way, not trying to get her attention by doing it. Caf in the morning, getting something down from an upper shelf before she asked for it, and vacating a seat so she had somewhere to sit. The boys noticed, as did Omega, but no one said anything. They watched on as if it was a tense holodrama.
On the third day, Ka’li walked up to him in the cockpit and called his name quietly. It was just the two of them in there. He turned to look at her from the knees down.
“Cross, can you help me with something?”
The nickname tickled his nerves, sending tingles throughout his body. “You sure you don’t want any of my brothers?”
“No. I’m sure I want you.”
He took a sudden breath, then stood up. “Oh, cyar’ika, if only that were true.”
“Would you look at me, Cross?”
He did as he walked out of the Marauder with her. She was as beautiful as a crisp morning and a breath of that fresh air. He wanted to cup her face in his hands and keep looking at her.
“What is it you need my help with, exactly?” he asked, breaking himself out of his thoughts.
“It’s over here. Something you can help me figure out.”
He paused. “Tech could help better than I could.”
“Nope. This will be something of your specialty.”
His brow furrowed, wondering what it could be on such a planet as peaceful as this, and continued after her.
They walked in silence for a minute, but he kept sneaking glances at her. Oh, how he missed being around her like this.
Finally, they reached a passageway in a rock wall. “Come on, just a few more steps.”
He saw the genuine smile on her face and looked at the hand she outstretched, debating if he could grab it without seeming overeager.
“It’s not going to hurt you,” she said softly and he slid his hand into hers. Just that simple touch lit a warmth in his heart and made him want to pull her into him for more.
She began to lead the way into the tunnel, pulling him along with her. They walked in silence for a couple minutes before reaching a cavern and she stopped.
She pointed down at the water lit by hundreds of thousands of glowbugs on the ceiling. “It’s filled by a hotspring.”
“So?”
“So, what I need you to help me figure out, is if it would be a romantic place to take a swim.”
He perked up, looking her in the eye for the first time in days. “Cyar’ika, are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”
She giggled. “Crosshair, I love you, too. Will you test the waters with me?”
He grinned slyly. “Oh, mesh’la, you may get more than you anticipate.”
“Oh, I dunno, I’m anticipating a lot.” She grinned wickedly. “Especially since this spring is said to act as an aphrodisiac.”
His pupils dilated and he started to climb down the short distance with a furious pace, then made hurried grabbing hands at her. She laughed and let him help her down, his hands not leaving her sides.
Touching her as-is was divine and sent his nerves aflutter. But was this something she truly wanted? Had she really forgiven him? He began to wonder if she was doing this for him or for the both of them.
She looked into his eyes and, as if she saw the question in his eyes, she said, “I do want this, Cross. I’ve wanted this – wanted you – for quite some time.” Her hand came up from his shoulder and cupped his cheek. He shuddered at the touch and leaned into her hand. “I know this might be a new concept for you, but I want you as you are, Crosshair. Every bit.”
His excitement faded as he looked at her more, the doubts plaguing his mind. “Are you sure you want used equipment?”
She frowned. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
The long-standing hurt in his eyes he made difficult for her to see as he turned away.
“Crosshair, did someone call you this?” she asked softly.
“Sorry, forget I said anything.”
She rushed to place both of her hands on his cheeks. He pressed his face into them again and his eyes closed, savoring in the warmth they held. “Hey, you’re not ‘used equipment.’ You’re a beautiful soul who has been abused. That goes for your brothers, too. All of them. No being is equipment. Whomever called you this will die by my hand for that cruel comment.”
He opened his eyes, which were swimming in tears. He was happy she wanted to protect him, but also afraid what she would think of him after he spoke. “I already shot him.”
Her eyes widened. “Was – was it on Barton-4?”
He looked away again.
“Hey, hey, look at me. I’m not afraid of you, if that’s why you won’t meet my eyes.”
His eyes, shining in the cavern’s blue glow, met hers again.
Her thumbs gently caressed under his eyes, wiping away any tears that had been shed. “Cross, you’re not ‘used equipment’ or ‘damaged goods,’ you’re a person. You’ve been abused by those you wanted to trust. You made it out alive. You’re a survivor.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. “I love you,” he whispered, his breath catching as he inhaled.
“I love you, too.” Her thumbs caressed his cheekbones. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”
“How about we just sit by the spring together.”
“Okay.”
He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry to ruin your plans.”
“Nonsense.” She waved a hand. “My plan was flimsy at best. Besides, I love you, so if it’s all the same to you, I think I’m coming out of this plan on top.”
Something flashed in his eyes as they snapped open and as he opened his mouth, she laughed. “I mean, I’m coming out of this a winner!” she exclaimed.
“I’m fine if you want to be on top, just so long as it’s because I’m carrying you.” He ducked his face into her neck and she squealed. He pulled away and sat down, motioning her to sit with him. Then he changed his mind and pulled her into his lap, knees on either side of his legs.
She gasped, then bit her lower lip and her cheeks burned. He let out a sigh.
He whispered, “I finally get to tell you how beautiful you are, and now I’m not sure if that’s enough.” He cupped one hand to her cheek, looking up at her.
“Whatever you choose, Cross, know it’s enough for me,” she murmured. “You’re enough for me. And the steps you need to take to get to where you want to be are not going to be a burden. Just know I’ll be right here with you.”
“Mesh’la, I… speaking of burden, I’m sorry I made you feel like one. You’re not.”
“This moment’s about you, handsome. I already forgave you.”
He looked up into her eyes and smiled. “No, cyar’ika, this moment is about us.”
“Us. I like the sound of that.”
He grinned, craning his neck for a kiss and she met him halfway, their lips meeting softly. Crosshair pulled back just enough to open his mouth a little and go in again, cradling her head in both of his hands. He couldn’t get enough of her and she kissed back just as fiercely. Suddenly, she giggled into the kiss.
“What?” he asked, chasing her lips.
“I thought you said I was only going to be on top if you were carrying me.”
“Did I? Hm, I suppose this will have to be an exception.” He surged forward and kissed her again, holding her as the kiss pushed her back, then helping her sit up straight on his thighs again. Her fingers found each space between his armor and tried to make contact with his torso. He shucked some of his armor pieces and her hands balled his blacks in her fists, holding him against her.
He sighed, the rush of adrenaline touching every part of his body and he finally pulled back to properly catch his breath.
“I love you, Crosshair. I’ll always be yours if you let me.” She smiled.
“I love you, too,” he said softly, gently kissing her lips. He didn’t have to say it, and he knew she knew he would always be hers, too.
Tags: @crosshairsbabygurl, @starrylothcat, @thecoffeelorian, @idoubleswearimawriter, @heylosers06, @totesnothere04, @dangraccoon, @the-hexfiles, @jediknightjana, @xxeiraxx, @philiasoul
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s-sunnydays · 7 months
Text
things left unsaid in artist’s depiction
i dont know if anyone checks this blog since i havent posted, but i guess i could share the things i never got to share since i discontinued artist’s depiction!
also, warning: there are trigger warnings!
iris was the one who reloaded the SAVE file and had gone insane since the mc had died in the fire. she was the one who also caused the accident, but she didn’t mean to; it was supposed to keep the mc from leaving since the machine was really close to being fixed and such.
faye had died at around six to nine years old because she’d gotten too sick and the mc couldn’t afford to enough money to keep her alive or to buy her any sort of medicine.
victor and sierra did run away because they were chased by debtors and all of that since they always messed with the wrong people in their lives. though, they don’t care about that as much, they didn’t want the others to get involved. i didn’t think much about how they died, but i would say that they ended up dying far away and no one knew since the mc couldn’t contact them – lost all contact with them.
sans never liked iris and iris never liked sans, they both just liked the idea of being in a relationship. and, sans gradually learns that iris liked mc the most – the best. even if she treated them horribly
there weren’t any sort of coherent thoughts about how the ending would go, but i assumed that there would be a polyamorous relationship with the mc and the skelebros aus where they could visit the original timeline any time they wanted since the machine and the tear was fixed.
iris’ feelings were never reciprocated
iris was mc’s childhood friend, and learned everything from them – how their life worked, how they had three siblings (never knew about oliver).
the mother ended up dying without oliver knowing – she died from overdosing on medication.
oliver vaguely remembers faye, but doesn’t know about the rest of the siblings. mc never told him until later, where he finds a picture of the other three – he asks why he looks related to victor and sierra and why faye looks so similar to the mc
the mc’s past is eventually revealed by iris or someone else, but other than that, it was basically mutual agreement to tell
the reason why oliver was taken away in the first timeskip was because the mistreatment that the mc had received ended up putting them past their breaking point. and then they started acting like a terrible brother, so they had to let him go – they had to take him to some other place; somewhere where he would be safe.
i have the next chapter, though it is unfinished.
WORK IS TIRING.
You suppose that since Iris pays you to work for her, you’ve been going to your job a lot less — within schedule, at least. Not many days are assigned to you.
“Hey, [Name],” Iris coos from her spot in front of you, sitting at the counter. “Do you wanna go shopping with me and the boys? I’m sure you’ll need something there. It’d the mall, after all! Who wouldn’t want to, like, you know — go shopping with me? I’ll pay for whatever you want.” She sings like a witch—or a siren, depending on the person—and you make a face inwardly.
At first, you would’ve said no. Just a simple no and everything would’ve been fine.
You suppose that no is also not in your vocabulary most of the time.
”…Let me ask my brother,” you mutter in response, pulling out your phone begrudgingly. You send him a message, waiting for his response.
If he says yes, you can only hope that the others don’t start causing problems with him around. You don’t mind the hate, the stares, the faces — just as long he can’t see them; hear them; you’re okay with it. As long as he can’t witness it, it’s fine. That’s all that mattered to you.
——
“Okay~”
Iris looks excited for some reason, but you don’t question it entirely.
You stare at the group of skeletons with a squint of your eyes, wondering where more came from. You should’ve known that the trip to the mall was basically restocking for the rest of the alternates stuck here — though you’re not sure if any of them really need anything. They seem to be more well off than you.
“Malls’re so big!” Your brother whispers to you, stunned by the size of the shopping mall you’re in. You have to agree. “What kind’a stores do they have in here?”
You have to agree with him.
To say that malls are huge is an understatement, you think they’re bigger than most mansions you’ve seen. Then again, you probably just don’t know what malls are like because your mother always told you that they were too expensive and a scam. You always did like sticking to every word she said to you, but that’s in the past. You could care less nowadays.
”I dunno,” you answer honestly. Your eyes scan your surroundings, squinting them when you realize just how large the building is. “Never gone to ‘em either, bro.”
“You haven’t taken your brother to the mall before?” Iris asks loudly, eyes wide with surprise. She glances between you and your brother curiously, obviously shocked — but you don’t even know how she heard you two whispering. It’s not like the others care enough to try and overhear, so why was she trying to be nosy?
Some of the skeletons turn to you, some glance at you, and the rest ignores you (out of pity, you don’t know).
”No,” your brother answers, confused. “We only go to the small ones ‘cause [Name] doesn’t like big stores.”
Well now.
Iris turns to you, frowning at you — you have to say, you don’t know why she’s looking at you like that because it’s not her business — and tells you, “You haven’t taken sweet little Oliver to a mall, [Name]? Shame on you! Malls are great, they have everything you’d need!”
You don’t know how to tell her off without calling her a spoiled brat.
”He already said why I don’t take him to big stores,” you point out, somewhat embarrassed that she had to call you out in front of everyone. “And, uh, malls are expensive… and, y’know, big — he’d get lost.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust your—“
You give her a look of irritation, and for once, the skeletons with you don’t seem too upset about it. Probably because they understand your situation or probably just—the conversation isn’t necessary.
“Are we done?” You don’t care if you interrupt her or get on Sans’ nerves because of it. “If we’re done, I can take Oliver shopping then. See you later, just call me when y—“
And Iris just loves thinking it’s her turn for everything. “We can hang out like old times! You know, when we were in high school together and stuff. Plus,” she shoots you a wink, “we have a lot to catch up on — we haven’t been, like, talking to each other at all! Come on, Sans, let’s go.” You don’t say anything when you see the flickering of his pinpricks or the not-so-subtle glances to your brother from the girl.
You stare at her, narrowing your eyes.
”It can’t be that bad,” your brother tries to soothe your vexation. “‘S okay! Maybe Red ‘n Edge can come with!”
Iris’ face twitches.
Sans’ smile falters. “since when were you buddies with ‘em, kid?”
Red grins widely, almost as if taunting the poor guy. “what’s wrong with bein’ friends wit’ a guy like me? i can come with, i got nothin’ to do anyways… maybe the, uh, boss can come with if he oh so wishes.”
“CAN IT, S—RED,” Edge catches himself and corrects himself. He ignores the looks given and clears his throat. “I SHALL GIFT THE HUMANS WITH MY PRESENCE, SINCE THEY ARE SO DESPERATE TO HANG OUT WITH ME. AND, I AM CURIOUS TO SEE WHAT SORT OF… STORES ARE IN THIS SPECIFIC MALL!”
Your brother shoots you a smile.
You squint your eyes.
Rus puts a hand on your shoulder and nudges Mutt. “‘ey, maybe we can finally get that thing wallet owed me. dunno what it is, but it’s gotta be somethin’.”
“…whatever you say, rus,” Mutt mutters and shrugs his shoulders compliantly. He looks like he just wants to sleep, and you can’t say you blame him. It’s not like you want to be here either, it was obvious that most of the monsters here didn’t want to be here either. You’re sure there’s some other meaning behind it.
”I don’t owe you anything, Rus.”
”sure thing, wallet.”
”They’re not your wallet!”
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Alive and Well
Viktor x Sick!Reader
Warnings: Blood.
Notes: Hextech could do more than power lightbulbs. This is a bit of a late Halloween piece, I guess!
Viktor could’ve been considered a workaholic, if it hadn’t so much to do with enjoying the process over seeking results. Of course, he was far too preoccupied with the end goal of his escapades, which had always been the central focus of his studies, with his fixations always drawing him to new and innovating ideas. Truthfully, he wanted to make Piltover a better place, even if it meant diving deeper into his work than he had ever before.
And so, he focused this ambitious necessity with the body. His body. Your body.
Your health, much like his own, had been on a spiralling decline for quite some time. However, unlike himself, your weakness lay purely within your own heart. It was frail, like glass that could shatter and splinter you from the inside. Though, you barely acted as though a simple fall could as easily break your spirit. You spent your days in the laboratory, by his side, and completely aware of the dangers that accompanied new inventions. You didn’t seem to mind, your studies clearly outweighing any other reason.
You had always been a shining beacon, here at the academy. Even far after the days were done, you kept that same smile plastered throughout, and kept that cheerful lull that could too easily put anyone under your spell.
Your insight, as he’d fiddle away at different contraptions, was welcomed with an open mind. Though, you often found yourself speaking grandly about Piltover’s numerous festivals and events rather than the discoveries at hand. You always preferred the world outside of these walls, and so Viktor found himself in awe at the notion that staying here, in the laboratory, with him, had still been a willing choice.
Yet, despite what you were owed by life for your own goodness, it still found its reasons to betray you so well. You’re lucky, he sometimes thinks, that he couldn’t stop himself from generously extending his arms to you, letting you fall right into a long awaited plan. Viktor wanted to see you well — the both of you, really. He wanted you to prosper and see the world. But, with your heart, you never found the chance.
The natural way was becoming obsolete. Hextech would replace it, remove the unnecessary teetering of fate and validate all existences of any kind. This would be the medical breakthrough Piltover desperately needed because, after all, everyone deserved to walk, to breathe, and to live.
He was going to save you, he had to.
It was only to his misfortune that he found you falling unconscious at the most inopportune time. He wasn’t prepared, his plans needed much more polish before entering its testing phases and— and he hadn’t found the time to suggest the idea to you, to hear out your thoughts, your opinion, if you even wanted this for yourself… but you wouldn’t make it till then. Your heart had completely stopped and no amount of pushing and pressing was helping. He needed to act quickly, and quickly did he act. As he began working through his drafted plan, he dragged your limp body to the table at the centre of his laboratory and wasted no time fetching the necessary tools.
There was blood, so much of it, as he cut your chest open and reached inside. Your body was still warm, and he knew it would only get colder from then on. How long could it last? How long could he take, afraid to quicken his pace any more and risk harming you irreversibly?
Viktor wiped his hands on his shirt, the blood smearing across as he thought about his next step. His eyes darted to his notes, and he found himself rummaging through, leaving behind red fingerprints as he did. He was frantic and inconsolable.
Holding up one of his many grotesque sketches, and staining the paper with his hands, he knew what he had to do next. His grip shook as he uncapped a loose container of something purple. Shimmer. A gift from an old friend.
Loading it into a syringe, he punctured the juncture above your newly opened chest cavity, somewhere below your neck and nestled between bones. Ultimately, the placement of such a thing wouldn’t matter.
His next step would be his last, though the fear that flowed through him matched his equally fascinated mind. This was his first run of such an idea, something he had planned to do with himself, too — could Hextech replace flesh as a necessary component to life? Could this be the solution to the world’s greatest miseries?
He reached for it, the Hexcore that made its home on his desk. This was just as much of an experiment as any of his other attempts to tap into its power. Ultimately, he hadn’t a clue what would truly occur, but his assumptions and reports could give him an idea. It was unfortunate that you’d find yourself in this position, as nothing more than a test-run… but Viktor saw great opportunity with your dilemma.
But, peering it’s ugly head in Viktor’s mind, he suddenly wondered what you would think of him — of this outcome. Perhaps it was your time to go, but even Viktor couldn’t see the logic in that. And, once more, he wondered solemnly: What would you think of this? Would you see it as your destiny, just as he had? In his hands, your life would not be in vain.
With twitching fingers, he loosened the tongs and dropped the Hexcore into the cavity of your chest. A flash of blue lit up the room as your body jolted. Fixing his goggles over his eyes, he fell back in his chair and observed the reaction with shocking surprise and equal curious fascination. He should’ve been taking notes, but Viktor was far too captivated by the scene.
The core seemed to be fuelled by the shimmer, moving your limbs with subtle twitches as it shook the table below. The skin around the core began to sear, appearing as a dark purple burn that reached further across your chest and slowly crept up your neck. It was consuming you, like a godly sacrifice on an altar, and he briefly wondered if removing the core would be possible at this stage.
Just as Viktor abruptly stood, and with one significant jolt, you breathed in violently — your first breath that night and, despite the sudden panic that overtook him, Viktor felt elated. Your arms shot up to your chest, but the surface above the core had already begun to fill in. Your hands clawed at it desperately as you slurred frantic pleas, like an itch you’d never be capable of scratching. His heart raced as he watched you, his own fear bubbling to the surface. This had become increasingly difficult to watch, but Viktor couldn’t imagine tearing his eyes away for even a split second. You were alive, he thought blissfully.
Alive and well.
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Handful of a Situation_Part 2
A.N:  This is a four-parter with the same artistReader as in the series Once upon a Time which can be found on my Genshin Impact MasterList.  
I feel like you probably need to read the rest of the series to fully enjoy this one. But there might be explanation you may not get if you haven’t read the rest of the series. So....I’ll just leave it at that.
P.S: I’m so happy to write a hangout with the Sumeru Fam!
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Collei must have been waiting for you because as soon as you entered into Gandharva Ville, you were glomped on. 
“Collei, don't startle Y/N like that!!”, Cyno admonished, placing a hand on your back to keep you from keeling backwards in surprise. 
You laughed and returned the hug, “It's been half a minute Collei. How are you?” 
“I'm fine! I've been looking forward to hanging out. We haven't seen each other in months. But how are you?” Collei pulled back and gaze concerned into your eyes. 
To break the tension you mussed up her hair making her pout, “I'm finnnne! I don’t know who is worse, you or Tighnari.” 
“Tighnari told me about your attack a few months ago. I’m glad that Alhaitham was there to help you. Next time, you need to tell us sooner.” 
You gave a fond smile, “Yes, mother…..”
“I’m serious, Y/N.” Collei stopped suddenly making you. Cyno lingered behind the two of you, “When you first came, you swore you heard sounds that wasn’t here. At least not in Gandharva Ville, but that was a hold-over from your world.” 
“I know I was there.” 
“No, you weren’t!! We had to keep you medicated for some weeks, before you showed even an ounce of lucidity. Then you did, and you got better. But we knew that there was a risk that something might jar you again, which was why both Master Tighnari and I were wary about you leaving Gandharva Ville. So I’m glad to know you have support in the city. You have both Alhaitham and Cyno. If something happens, we expect you to go to them.” 
“I feel I must add Kaveh to this list, lest he whine about not being mentioned in the future”, Cyno interjected. 
But Collei continued without missing a beat, “Exactly. You have three people right there, so there was no reason to go the length of time you did suffering, when you could have turned to them.” 
You nodded, hanging your head, contrite. You had already gotten a lecture from Tighnari when he came to the city months ago on the subject, but since you hadn’t seen Collei since that time, you guessed she had been thinking about it all this time. You didn’t have the heart to say anything since she looked so concerned over this. 
You felt Collei wrap her arms around you briefly, “I don’t mean to lecture you, but I was worried. Don’t let us worry like that again, and say something.” 
You hugged her back, “I will.” 
You both pulled apart and continued walking. 
Collei grinned, “I suppose I don’t have to worry too much since Alhaitham will be your husband soon. I’m sure nothing gets in the way of his eagle eyes.” 
You ducked your head, “You act like I need a minder.” 
“You do sometimes…” came the new voice as you approached Tighnari who heard the tail end of your conversation, “But welcome back, Y/N. I see Collei has already greeted you.”
“Hey, Tighnari. And I don’t need a minder. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” 
Both Tighnari and Collei exchanged glances. 
“Every little bit helps, and it’s less weight off my shoulders.” Tighnari spoke briskly, “Now, Y/N, you will go with Collei. Once Cyno and I are done with official business, we will head to Avyida Forest to hang out for the rest of the day.” 
Collei clapped her hands together, “Yes, we figured a picnic by Chinvat Ravine would be nice. The forest rangers already double-checked the other day, so it is safe.” 
Tighnari folded his arms, “We since cleared out the contamination zones and since none can be replicated anymore, we don’t have to worry about that at least. However, even as we relax, we still must remember that there are other dangers in the forest.” 
“Master!!” Collie begged with a whine, “Don’t forget, after your official business, you are supposed to be on break for the rest of the day. Please don’t get riled up.” 
“Then let us proceed, so we can get our half- a day break started.” suggested Cyno. 
Part 3
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iris-is-silly · 6 months
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To be honest I’ll never actually post anything besides this on here and it will probably be a depressing post.
I hate my life. I’m losing a good reason to wake up every time I get up. It’s to the point where waking up and staying awake is a chore and would just love to bedrot. I’ve written suicide notes on suicide notes and I’ve written one for everyone. I’ve even written a poem and some stories.
I love my friends and my cats but thats all anymore. Even then I still struggle with my friends. I hate talking or trying to start a conversation now and most of my messages feel like they are hitting brick walls.
I hate my body. God is my body disgusting. I feel like throwing up looking in the mirror. I can’t go anywhere without covering up my body. If I’m seen without a hoodie I scurry like a rat till I feel safe.
I hate the stress. I’ve been degraded my whole life. Whether it be in elementary for doing nothing and being the odd one out for being neuro-divergent, To being bullied and degraded by my own mom and dad. Im able to drive and the elementary high school bullying went to being attacked, SA’d, talked about everywhere and being hate crimed. All of these things because what.? Im different from you all.? That justifies your need to attack me and shit talk every one of my uncontrollable insecurities day by day.? Well guess what assholes you are winning.
I hate living. I’ve never had a break. No matter how hard I work. No matter how hard I try. No matter what every single break ends up being dragged into a worse and worse event. “Let’s go to the amusement park” Friend attempts suicide. “Let’s go to vegas get a break take out some anger.” Dog dies. “Im gonna go camping and unplug for a while.” Come back and boom I’m removed from their life and I’m the bad guy for wanting a break from life.
I struggle to stay happy. I miss being a kid. Clueless to the horrors of what was to come. Unable to understand why the kids would laugh or point at me. Blind to the hate. I miss the days where I could look around and take a deep breath and enjoy it.
I’ve lost hope. No coping methods work anymore. I sit on my blood stained mattress wondering why I just add to the stains without finishing the job. I try to find the good in the world or the stuff to make me happy but all I find is a fistful of cats and friends. Nothing makes my happy anymore.
My own family lets it happen. I love being in able to work because of how hard it is to focus. Everyone says “Take your meds” “If you just took your pills” “You wouldn’t fail if you were medicated.” Well guess what? I have been taking them. You pay no notice because you all spend that time berating me. Shoving more pills down my throat for what? A reason to blame me for your anger?
So I’ll leave this earth. No one who is part of my blood ever acts like they care anymore. I wake up to hear “Your rude asshole” For making breakfast and apologizing. I get beat for cooking my dad and brother a steak I saved up for so they can be happy. I get publicly shamed because I was sick and refused to eat. I am the bad guy in every situation and when Im not, Im attacked, Degraded, Left to rot.
If you want me to take them, I’ll take them all. I wish crying myself to sleep at night at-least was a good enough cry for help. Its not. They slow painful feel as my body aches dragging my almost dead limp appendages across the floor to rest just to be called to do more work. They hear me cry. They see how much pain I’m in. They know my condition.
Maybe this is a cry for help. On a day where maybe I’m not always thinking about killing myself something changes that. I wish just once that I may be free from this cycle of constant negativity, But it will always go un-answered.
When I’m gone and days quieter look for me in the fields. I will be sitting besides you although you may not know I’ll be there holding your hand.
Im sorry for wasting your time. You may hate me and this stupid rant. But its no different you just join the common mass. I left a-lot of details out to protect and so my classmates or friends don’t report me to the school. If you know me and you see this. Keep quiet.
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minionsunclee · 9 months
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i just finished tgaa2 and honestly as good as it was the ending was a little disappointing
Like obviously i get the parallel to nick and edgeworth and i thought the last scene was very sweet but … so much missed potential in a way? Especially for susato, like she just stays an assistant. I thought ryutaro was going to come back somehow and she was going to reveal her own passion for studying law and maybe her own desire to become a defense attorney but i guess not 😞 Like why would they introduce ryutaro and mention all that stuff about women not being allowed to do certain things and what a shame it is and have no resolution??? I get the time period it was set it but if iris has an actual medical degree at ten i dont think the idea that susato might want to try and break japans gender norms and act as the first ever female lawyer would be that crazy.. I honestly wouldve loved for susato to tell ryunosuke he could stay in london and she would go back in his place to be lawyer their country needs.
Speaking of which! Pissed me off naruhodo decided to leave! I fully understand why he would but AGAIN such wasted potential! His drive to want to get to the bottom of things in any given situation and his desire to strive for the truth… i feel like the hints at him wanting to take up a role similar to sholmes’s were all there! he has such fondness for sholmes, sometimes even genuinely impressed by his reasoning, obviously cares a lot about what he thinks and like, yes his “wanting to expose the truth” desire was mostly just as a lawyer in court but would it not be fitting of a great detective as well? How many times has sholmes given them a piece of evidence to be used further into the trial to uncover the truth that was hidden??
I feel like it would’ve worked wonderfully for his final resolution too. Him feeling useless now that kazumas back and theres no need for a “replacement” anymore. Him wanting to choose for himself now that he doesn’t feel the need to keep kazumas legacy going. He became a lawyer only for kazuma, what if he didn’t enjoy being a lawyer but rather just being able to get to the truth, whether in court or outside of it?? what if the game had ended with him asking mr sholmes to take him in as an apprentice … to in a way take mikotobas place as sholmes new partner and have more adventures togetehr … the way he gets so excited during the logic and reasoning spectacular in 2-4 that he kinda even takes on sholmes’s persona it right there !!! I’m not crazy am i, i cant be the only one thinking this (i have not looked into the fandom at all i literally just finished the games)
These are mostly just rambling its almost 1 am and i have barely slept today but i just cant stop thinking about it … prosecutor kazuma, defence attorney susato and great detective ryunosuke… it just makes sen se …..
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Like … look at them … it makes sens e …..
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leastdatablebracket · 9 months
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ROUND 3, MATCH 5
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Propaganda under the cut!
Drake Walker
Propaganda
Jobless complainer with a codependent relationship with his best friend (Liam) who bitches about monarchy and nobility constantly, even though he benefits from staying at the royal castle for free. I think it might be mentioned once... in book 3 or the sequels that he actually does some work around the place... seems like something that the writers threw in to make Drake seem less like a useless freeloader. Rude as fuck for literal no reason, obsessed with being a man, he's chock full of toxic masculinity. Won't ice skate, hates the opera, won't drink wine or "girly" drinks, sees fancy food and I feel like he complains just for the hell of it. Just a general pill of a human to be around. Grown ass man (mid to late 20s) who hates the royal life so much, he can just leave! Get a job! Move out! He doesn't have to 24/7 be on call to emotionally support Liam! He can move into the city and call or visit his BFF whenever Liam is having a crisis or needs support or advice or whatever. Utterly ridiculous situation to have Drake there constantly hating on everything. Obsessed with manly stuff only like whiskey and eating BBQ or sloppy joes or some shit like that. Complained in the third book about a pink wedding cake (or decorations?), which caused Drake Walker stans to actually get angry (although he would literally do this, he 100% would bitch about pink) and the writers took out that line. I guess dissing on pink things was just Too Much finally for Drake Walker fans. You have to pay diamonds (the premium currency) to see the soft side of this RO, which is so hilarious to me... why would I ever pay diamonds to spend MORE time with this guy??? I don't need to see Drake's "soft for only one person" scenes, I need to punt him into the sun. Drake Walker fans used to be or still are insane so god help you if you put this horrible man in the bracket. Choices has really fallen though, they lost 90% of their tumblrinas when they introduced their subscription model, so you might avoid the DW discourse. 
His vibes are rancid 
The propaganda here is perfect, but to add a bit for Drake, at one point they rewrote some of the original game, and do you know how they tried to make Drake more likable? They made the main LI of the game, normally a sweetie, a jerk fuck boi. Like the only way the creators of Drake could think to make him more likable was to just make the other characters worse.
Vace
Propaganda
well you (the pollrunner) already know cause hes ur icon but i will say that at least he is meant to suck as a romantic partner with only one ending (two if you include astronaut) having him and sol (the player character) staying together on the other end tho there's three ways to start dating him one is to make him go to therapy n then start dating after he is no longer abusing his girlfriend (either breaking them up by convincing him to dump nemmie or convincing nemmie that hes the scumbag he is n she deserves better) another is to be his side piece and the third way is getting him so mad he drags sol off by the neck to beat the shit out of them with this event ending with either him n sol sleeping together (also causing him and nemmie to break up) sol getting the living daylights beat out of them (to the point they got knocked out n needed medical care) with the implicit threat of vace will do this again if they dont stay out of his way and sol avoiding both of those things but being so shaken by the experience that theyre struggling to breath until theyre outside and fully away from him which gives a very different undertone to hooking up with him in this event
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princessmahle · 9 months
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The dark frost hashira  black y/n reader x tengen x tengen’s wives part 12
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You were very close to the end of your pregnancy and didn’t know when you were going into labor. But you felt the little one coming. You felt the pressure of your child on your lower abdomen. You just rubbed your tummy everyday. And Despite your very exposed belly, you kept training the other slayers only with less physical contact. Instead of whooping their asses, you just slapped their heads whenever their camouflage seemed sloppy and noticeable. But not much was left for you to do, except to take it easy. You had more breaks because you constantly needed a bathroom break from urinating due to pressure. This kid was really getting on your nerves honestly. And everyone suggested you rest. Including Makio who was on your ass about your health and the baby everyday. You finally decide to take their advice. And call in for retirement of your own. It didn’t seem so bad at first until one day when you sent a letter to uruokodaki about your pregnancy. He finally wrote back to you telling you congratulations. But then the wives had a meeting with tengen without you one night. You awoke from the bed you all usually slept together in. But it was just you, alone. You went to go check on them and they were sitting at the table on the floor talking. “We should send her away. As far away as we can!” Suma replied. “Atleast somewhere with a lot of wisteria and also very peaceful.” Hinatsuru added. “She’s going to have the baby any day now and if muzan finds nezuko from where we’re hiding her he’s going to kill all that’s protecting her! Including y/n!” Makio finally interrupted. Tengen just kept his arms folded. Thinking and thinking. “Right now, the safest place she can stay is at the butterfly mansion. They have all the medics and supplies she needs for when she gives birth. There’s no point in sending her far away now. Besides uruodaki says when she gives birth he’ll take her back to his place until muzan is killed.” With all that they were saying it didn’t make you mad that they wanted you away from the situation, it didn’t even make you mad that they were gonna just send you far away to uruodaki. But the fact that they felt the need to keep it a secret from you. Like you wouldn’t understand or you were too weak in their eyes. You finally headed back to bed but being ninja with good hearing tengen heard your little toes poke by. “Angel? Wait….are you up?” You ignored him and kept walking down the hall. “Angel! Wait let me explain!” You finally looked at him as he grabbed your arm. “Why explain? I heard everything you guys were saying. I know I’m just in the way. But seriously? Are you all going to fight muzan if he gets to nezuko?” Hinatsuru spoke “Y/n, we have to be there for nezuko in case things get really bad. Don’t you want to protect her too?” Now you were offended by that remark “what!? Of course! But there’s no reason for all of you to be put in danger!” They all looked at each other and Then back to you. Suma spoke up “I’m not going I’ll be there with you too!” Suma exclaimed. Makio just glared looking more annoyed by suma. Hinatsuru came up and held you close. You nuzzled your head down to her shoulder. “You all said you wouldn’t leave me…was that a lie?” tengen held you close stroking your hair “ I know, I’m sorry we lied. But if muzan absorbs nezuko and conquers the sun. Then we’re all done for….” As a hashira you understood what your duties were. It was nothing different really. What you really wanted was a world where demons don’t exist. Where everyone can just live normally. And that you could give birth to your child in a world where there were no demons. Finally, you looked up and wiped your face. “Ok I guess this is all we can do for now….” Suma grabbed you unconditionally. “Don’t worry y/n! I’ll come with you!” Makio rolled her eyes at suma’s remark. Tengen smiled at you and the girls. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my beautiful wives! Your all going to go with y/n!” The girls were worried about tengen but knew in the end being with you was probably for the best. 
And finally….. that day came. You were feeling so much pain that night. You were sent to the butterfly mansion as soon as possible. Shinobu was there and she reassured you that everything would be ok. aoi was brought in the room to assist shinobu. You trusted no one but shinobu to deliver your baby safely and hoped the baby was healthy. It took two hours but around 8:00 pm you gave birth to a healthy baby. Shinobu handed your child in your arms and the biggest trait that the baby had in tengen was his eyes. Shinobu held your hand. “I have to go now y/n” you smiled at her thinking she had work to do, not realizing she was sweating…a lot…something had caught her attention she gave you a hug and told you “congratulations, sleep well…” shinobu walked out and closed your door. What was going on you thought. When aoi aloud visitors the first person to barge in was Makio and suma. They were too excited. “Move suma I came in first!” Makio shoved suma. “Makio you always get to do everything first! I’m a mother now too!!!” Hinatsuru walked in and shush them both. “Please you too…the baby is sleeping…” you smiled now seeing the wives and you gave the child to hinatsuru first then Makio and finally suma. When you finally realized that tengen was not with the girls you wondered where he was. “Why isn’t tengen here?” The girls all looked at each other concerned. Like they were once again hiding something from you. Makio finally spoke up “he’s not coming…” you were now confused “why?” Hinatsuru spoke “the war has finally started  y/n a little after you went into labor. Master is gone and now a bunch of the slayers are fighting him.”  So much in your brain tried to collect what has happened. This is why shinobu seemed off. She sensed the master. You could’ve sensed him too But you were tired and needed to heal from giving birth. You couldn’t help them. “Tengen is there fighting muzan!?” The girls eyes widen. “He better not..” makio complained. “He’s protecting the master’s son and two younger daughters.” You had a sighed of relief. But you were still scared that all of this was happening right now. Right when you had just given birth. Everything was happening too fast. You just wanted all your fellow hashira here to see you. Gyomei…mitsuuri…giyu…..obanai…even sanemi who at the time hadn’t seeing you as much but had send you ohagi during your cravings. He even had a soft spot for you. And now, they were all fighting for their lives. They told you kagaya,amane and his two older daughters had passed away. You were scared and you wanted to cry. But instead you prayed. You prayed for a long time. And the girls held you close and prayed with you, hoping for a miracle. You later fell asleep that night. While the girls helped take turns in rocking your baby to sleep. You haven’t chosen a name yet. You wanted to wait until morning, you wanted tengen to come in to see you and his child that you created with him. You hoped muzan would see the sunrise and understand how the world will continue live on without him and his wrath. You hoped tomorrow was a good morning….
Hinatsuru: What should we name the child?
help choose the child’s name in the comments!
part 12. Part 13
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