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wakebymoonsleepbysun · 11 months

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Untitled Roxy x Reader fic (hurt/comfort)

EDIT: A more polished version is now up on ao3. If you're re-reading it or sending it to someone, then the ao3 version is preferred, but it's not changed enough that I would necessarily suggest re-reading it again if you weren't already going to. <3

For some reason, last night, I decided that it was imperative I write and release a Roxy x Reader oneshot before Ruin. (ETA: To be clear I mean I wrote this before Ruin released, therefore it contains NO SPOILERS. <3) It's an idea I've had for awhile and was going to do as a comic but decided to expand it and write it out instead. I may post a more polished version to ao3 at a later date.

Fun fact: Roxy was my first FNAF crush, before SB even came out. So Ruin will have many chances to break my heart.

Word count: ~3200

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When the Pizzaplex burned down, none of your colleagues had seemed particularly interested in returning to the ruins. You could understand…some of the techs arriving for the morning shift had been caught in the blaze, and while there were no casualties, there had been some injuries. Yourself included.

After a few weeks in the hospital, the burn mark across your face was just an angry red scar, and the singed hair you’d had to cut off had regrown enough for you to wear a slightly uneven pixie cut.

The other techs said you were crazy to want to go back. The future of Fazbear Inc was uncertain, and the animatronics themselves were just that. Animatronics. Machines. Not worth putting yourself in danger for.

But you’d come to consider Roxy a friend. Sometimes you thought she considered you one, too. She didn’t seem like she would readily admit such a thing even if it were true.

She had at least liked you as a tech, if not as a person. You were the only one who could do her pre-show checks and weekly maintenance without ruining her hair, at least according to her. According to the other techs, Roxanne’s hair was always fine.

You quickly learned that to Roxy, “fine” was equivalent to a reprehensible failure. A disaster. A complete horrific mess.

You didn’t think your experience with costuming (specifically wigs) in your college’s theater club would ever be something you used after you graduated, but life is full of surprises.

You wander through the corridors of your ruined, burned out workplace, flashlight in hand. You have a few guesses as to where Roxy might be. You desperately hope she’s okay. The structure is mostly intact, but there are a few collapsed portions and fallen bits of decor. You think as long as Roxy had been able to avoid the worst of the heat, she’d be mostly alright.

You make your way to Rockstar Row, your workboots crunching on the debris as you walk.

As you approach Roxy’s room, you hear something that makes you freeze.

Crying.

For a moment you wonder if another tech, or perhaps some urban explorer or rubbernecker is in here with you. Then you recognize the voice behind the sobs.

Roxanne is crying? You’re more surprised than you probably should be. But you’d seen behind her mask a couple times. Behind the vanity, haughtiness, and borderline entitlement, you had occasionally glimpsed a profound insecurity. Beneath it all, you don’t think Roxy actually likes herself very much.

You swipe your badge on the door, and it actually dings and slides open. Or tries to. Something jams it halfway and you have to wedge yourself into the doorframe and push the door open the rest of the way.

Roxy, who had been sitting at her vanity, head in her hands, perks up. Her ears twitch as she glances around. “Who’s there?” she calls out.

You open your mouth to speak, only to leave it hanging open in surprise as you see how badly she’s damaged. So much of her exoskeleton is missing, exposing the endoskeleton underneath. Her hair is a tangled, singed mess and her tail isn’t much better. But most horrifying, her eyes are completely gone.

“Who’s there?!” Roxy repeats, a growl in her voice as she stands up and starts stalking towards you. You can hear the servos and joints in her body creak in protest as she moves.

“R-Roxy, it’s me!” you say before hastily blurting out your name.

She stops, her ears twitching and her claws grasping at the air. At first you think she’s baring her teeth at you, but you quickly realize her broken faceplate has put one side of her mouth in a permanent snarl.

She huffs, turning away. She skulks back to her vanity, plopping down in her chair and burning her broken face in her shattered hands. “What do you want?” she mutters.

You tense, taken aback. “Wh-What do you think I want, Roxy?” you ask incredulously, slowly moving towards her. “I-I wanted to know you were okay. I wanted to help you. I was…terrified you’d…been destroyed,” you say quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She pulls away with a growl. “I have been destroyed! Just--Just look at me!” The rage in her voice doesn’t fully mask her despair, nor does it completely hide her fear. Fear of what? Of what could have happened? Of how close she came to being permanently deactivated?

Her command was clearly rhetorical, for she lowers her head further, digging her claws into what remains of her scalp.

“Roxy…all this can be fixed…” you say gently.

“No it can’t!” she snaps. “I already checked. Parts and Services is a pile of rubble now.”

“Well…what about the loading docks? Maybe we can at least find some new eyes for you…”

She scoffs. “Oh good. Then I can see myself. Because feeling all this isn’t bad enough,” she sneers, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Roxy--”

“FINE!” she growls, pushing back from her vanity abruptly. If the chair weren’t screwed into the floor she surely would have toppled it over. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

You flinch nervously, nodding. Remembering her blindness, you quickly say, “Okay. Here,” you say gently putting a hand on her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, though she sounds somewhat less defensive and a bit…nervous? Embarrassed? With a huff, she adds, “I’ll just follow your footsteps.”

You bite back a sigh. “Alright,” you say patiently.

You lead the way out of her green room towards the long stairway down to the loading docks. You’re not about to risk trying to take the elevator.

“Here, careful on the stairs,” you say, gently taking her arm again. This time she allows it, albeit with some reluctance as she gives you what probably would have been a withering look if her faceplate had been intact.

It’s a long way down and neither of you want to rush. The sound of your softer footfalls and her heavier ones as you both pick your way down the stairs echoes through the stairwell.

Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk.

You watch her carefully. She seems too focused on making it down the stairs to be too sulky for the moment. Small blessings, you suppose. Still, the silence is only stretching out your descent.

“It sounds like one of your knees is out of alignment,” you say eventually.

“The left one,” she confirms a bit gruffly. “I can manage.”

“I can see that,” you say gently. “It took me awhile to notice something was even wrong. You carry yourself well,” you say, smiling a bit.

Roxy grunts in acknowledgement, but doesn’t preen even a little at the praise. That’s unusual for her…compliments usually cheer her up.

“Maybe I can find a new hinge while we’re--”

“Why are you doing this?” she cuts you off.

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the flight of stairs.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean,” she says. Before you can speak, she continues, “This whole place is finished. Nobody’s coming back to rebuild. What’s the point of you patching me up?”

“I told you, Roxy…I was worried…” you start as you resume your climb down the stairs.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you!” you say, exasperated as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You keep your hand on her arm as you make your way down the corridor, and she doesn’t protest.

She snorts. “You care about a pile of scrap?”

You wish she could see the glare you give her at that. “You are NOT a pile of scrap! You’re just a little scuffed.”

“More than a little,” she huffs.

You sigh. “Okay, maybe a little more than a little,” you admit. You force a smile. “But hey…I’m the perfect tech, remember? If anyone can get you fixed up, it’s me, isn’t it?”

You weren’t normally any kind of braggart. Roxy had been the only one to ever call you the perfect tech, though you feel like that was almost more a point of pride for herself rather than for you. As if she were praising herself for being deserving of the best tech more than she’s praising you for being the best tech. But you still liked hearing it…and sometimes it really did seem like she was directing the praise at you.

Roxy turns her head towards you, her ears swiveling forward. It’s hard to read her expression with her broken faceplate, but eventually one side of her mouth ticks up into a small smile. “...Yeah…” she admits softly.

You squeeze her arm gently, careful to not touch any of the sharper broken off bits.

Once you get to the loading dock, you guide her to sit down on a crate while you look through some of the recent part shipments.

The fire had somehow spared much of this place, but the collapse of P & S had rippled partially through the area and several patches of ceiling had fallen, knocking over piles of crates and leaving the whole place in disarray.

Eventually you find a crate that has the P & S stamp on the wooden slats, and figure that’s a promising place to start. You grab a crowbar and begin trying to pry it open in any way you can.

Roxy’s ears perk and she turns towards you. “What are you doing?”

“Trying--urg--to get this crate open,” you grunt.

She stands and walks towards you. “Let me,” she says. She reaches towards you, trying to determine your position.

You take her hand, your fingers weaving in hers for a moment before you guide her hand to the crate.

“Thanks,” you say, stepping aside.

“Well…pretty silly to make a human do all the heavy lifting,” she says, digging her claws into one of the planks. The wood splinters and creaks and is readily ripped free.

You smile weakly. “You’re right…these arms would never have a fraction of your strength,” you say. Jokingly, you lift your arm and flex…only to realize Roxy won’t be able to see it.

Probably for the best. It was a dumb joke anyway.

She snorts, actually preening a bit as she pulls another board free. “Even busted…” she agrees softly. Her tone is slightly melancholy…as if she doesn’t fully believe it.

She pulls another board free, and you put a hand on her shoulder. “I think that’s enough for now,” you say, guiding her back to the crate she had been sitting on before.

You begin pulling the smaller boxes from the shipping crate, cutting them open and rummaging through them, looking for anything usable.

Once again, the silence stretches on.

After finding nothing useful in the first two boxes, you glance back at Roxanne. Her hand is over her face, her middle finger slowly tracing the cracks near where her eyes had been. The quiet isn’t doing her any favors.

You shove the box you were looking through aside and pull out another, cutting it open. “Roxy?” you break the silence.

“Mm?” she grunts, still more focused on her faceplate than you.

“You…d’you um…remember that time we ran out of driver bots and that angry dad yelled at me?”

She pauses briefly, turning her head towards you. “What about it?” she asks before going back to feeling her faceplate.

“You remember what you said to me?”

“I called you an idiot.” Was that a touch of guilt you detect in her tone?

You laugh weakly, nodding. “Yes. But you remember why?”

“For letting a loser like that get under your skin,” she says plainly.

“Right,” you say, smiling. “I think about that a lot, you know.”

Roxy scoffs. “Really? Freddy said I was too rude,” she says. If she had eyes she would have rolled them.

You let out a gentle chuckle. “Well…maybe a bit,” you admit, earning a slightly sulky huff from her. “But there was truth to it, y’know? And I think about it a lot. It uh…it’s…helped me. Deal with people like him.”

She cants her head, one ear flicking curiously. It’s a cute expression even with her broken faceplate. “It…did?”

“Yeah,” you say, pulling out another box and opening it. “I-I mean…you were right. I knew he was a loser but I still told myself his opinion meant something. But it doesn’t, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly.

The conversation lapses again, and you try to resist the urge to slow your search in order to come up with a new topic. Luckily, it is Roxy who picks the next topic.

“You remember that time a birthday party ran long, and I was late getting back to the recharge station?”

You freeze. Oh you do remember. You remember that evening well. The animatronics tend to get a little quirky when their battery dips below five percent. Something about a power save mode cutting power to random systems. Usually mobility, but somehow, their…inhibitions, for lack of a better term, also seemed to go by the wayside. As far as you know nobody ever quite understood why, but it was a little like getting loopy from lack of sleep, or even a bit tipsy.

Roxy smirks, hearing your stunned silence. “You do.”

“Y-Yeah…I…I wasn’t sure if you did, though.”

“I remember the important parts.” Before you can start to wonder what the “important parts” are in her mind, she continues, “You’d finally used that salon voucher I gave you for your birthday. Gotten your hair done. Actually wore it down. I never understand why you hide such long pretty hair up that bun.”

You fluster a bit. “Th-The dress code--”

“Oh, you do it without the dress code,” she scoffs, flicking a hand dismissively.

You clear your throat awkwardly, pausing to rub at your cheeks as if you can wipe the blush away. “W-What’s your battery at, by the way?”

She snorts. “Just an idle wondering?” she smirks. “It’s twenty-two percent.”

So it’s not her low battery talking…

Roxy continues, “You know…if you can find a set of replacement eyes…I wouldn’t mind seeing your hair down again,” she says, actually sounding wistful, of all things. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard her sound wistful.

You sigh softly, running a hand over your chopped off hair. “Y-Yeah…” you say, noncommittally.

She glances at you questioningly, sensing something in your tone. But before she can comment, you cut open another box, and find it has the spare eyes you’ve been looking for.

“Found the eyes!” you say. Some of the happiness in your tone is genuine. You grab two amber ones, going over to her. “They’re just standard optics, so you won’t see as well as you’re used to, but…it’ll do for now,” you say, guiding her to lay on the floor.

Her smile fades slightly and she nods, reality setting back in. Despite your claims that you could repair her, she wasn’t convinced she’d ever be as good as she was before. “Guess it’ll have to,” she mumbles.

You put a flashlight in her hand and position her arm to shine it down on her faceplate, giving you light to work with. Your toolkit is beside you, with some extra lengths of wire and soldering iron to work with. As you cut away the burned wires, murmuring apologies whenever Roxy flinches, your mind drifts back to that evening.

Her power had been at one percent when you finally coaxed her into her recharge station. Before you did, though, she had leaned down and pressed her lips to yours. You think she had been trying to nuzzle your cheek. Even “drunk” you don’t think she wanted to kiss you like that.

Neither of you had ever spoken of that night again, until today. She must not remember the kiss, you decide. She wouldn’t bring up that night at all if she did.

The truth is you’ve carried a small flame for her ever since then. Or perhaps a little longer, if you were more honest with yourself. Nothing you couldn’t ignore most of the time, of course…but something that had occasionally managed to put a bit of warmth in your heart when you allowed it to.

But none of those silly little what-ifs you’d allowed yourself to daydream of would ever come to pass now.

You wire in the eyes, then carefully fit them into their sockets. As they come online, the attached eyelids blink shut against the light.

You quickly turn away, keeping your back to her as you pack up your toolkit. “Th-They working okay?” you ask. It’s silly to turn away like this. You can’t possibly delay her seeing your scar for more than a couple minutes. Why even bother trying?

She moves the flashlight out of her eyes and sits up, looking around. “Yes,” she says. She pauses. “...Better than I thought. I forgot the standard optics still have night vision.”

You laugh weakly. “Another thing you have over me, then,” you say in what you had meant to be a good natured tone, but you couldn’t quite keep the melancholy from your voice.

Roxy catches it and glances at you curiously. She stands up, then reaches down a hand to help you up.

Well. No more putting it off.

You bow your head slightly as you turn to take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. When you stand before her, you finally lift your head to look into her eyes, giving a small, tentative smile that borders on apologetic.

Roxy stares down at you, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Wh-What…happened…?”

You sigh, glancing away slightly. “I-I…got to work early, and…I was upstairs when the fire started. It…spread so fast I…had to cut through some pretty bad areas. I-I mean. I guess, something like that…I-I don’t really remember…” you say, your voice starting to shake.

Roxy’s hand is on your cheek, turning your face back towards her as she examines your scar.

You feel your face growing warm. “I-I don’t know how I got the scar, really…The EMTs found me passed out in the employee parking lot.”

Roxy smiles sadly. “You were strong enough to save yourself.”

You blush deeply at the compliment, lowering your gaze. “I-I guess so…”

She runs her thumb over the scar, tracing the ridges of the shiny, discolored skin. “Can it be repaired?” she asks, her tone more gentle than you’ve ever heard from her.

You shake your head, resisting the urge to nuzzle into her palm as you do. “Not…really. My hair will grow back and the scar will probably fade a bit, eventually, but…it’ll…probably be pretty noticeable for the rest of my life…” You feel tears brimming at your eyes and force out a weak laugh. “C-Can’t really…uh…s-switch faceplates on a human…y-y’know?” you say in a wavering tone.

Roxy hums quietly, bringing her other hand up to cup your other cheek. “No need,” she says, lowering her head and gently nosing at your scar.

Your breath stills at her words, your eyes widening in surprise. You’re almost not sure you heard right.

She pulls back, smiling down at you tenderly. “You’re still beautiful,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours.

#fnaf #fnaf roxy #fnaf roxanne #roxanne wolf #roxy x reader #roxy x y/n #fnaf security breach #my writing #apologies to everyone waiting on the next chapter of stereo souls #my brain just does this sometimes #i can only focus on the third item in my todo list #sometimes i can glitch tasks into third place to work on them but other times i just start a random new project

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a-boca-do-inferno · 1 year

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sex etiquette, free therapy & sincericide (david 8 x reader)

summary: David has many skills built into his design. Luckily for (y/n), trying is one of them.

warnings: swearing, nakedness, mentions of smut, slight angst, fluff

words: 1.0k

notes: hiii. i missed writing for him. could be read as a continuation to love or trust, or a standalone. either way i hope you enjoy x

David is oddly amusing after sex. He will awkwardly, although conceptually contradictory to his unhuman nature, walk to the bathroom and just stay there for a whole minute. Then he will come back — still without a word —, with his perfect naked body only illuminated by the low blue light in (y/n)’s quarters and frozen blue eyes that advert from hers at any cost. And it’s in that moment her gaze meets his, briefly, that sometimes she wonders if he ever regrets paying her those visits at night.

Ever since the crew awakened, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice the difference of treatment David displayed between her and their colleagues. It was as subtle as a lingering touch whenever he brought her tea, or as blatant as his toothy smile directed at her whilst she studied some coordinates for the next expedition. Either way, it simply seemed impossible to escape the android’s overwhelming attention over herself. He hovered like a heavy cloud, but caused its opposite effect on the girl with his somewhat disconcerting warm presence. So, it was only natural their acquaintance would grow to be more intimate as time went on, resulting on that strange, casual relationship of theirs.

It didn’t have a name or a clear goal. For now, (y/n) enjoyed his company — and his bedside manners, of course — very much and enough to want him around even after having sex. And that’s why his alien demeanour bothered her so much. Granted, this time she just had to speak up.

“You always do that”, she muses.

Sitting right next to her on the bed, mimicking the way her body is inclined on the headboard, David looks up at last. He has a neutral expression that turns into light confusion, flexing his eyebrows. “Always do what?”

“You stand there, quiet, distant, as if you weren’t almost fucking me through a wall just now”, her tone is obviously comic, but it doesn’t seem to affect David that much. “I’m just kidding, by the way.”

“I know”, he says, not really showing any sign of contempt. But then again, he never really did. His blonde hair is dishevelled and (y/n) puts it on place, causing him to flash her a smile before continuing, “and I am aware I have quite a lot to learn about sex etiquette.”

“It’s more than that and you know it, David.”

He frowns. “I don’t follow.”

“Are you afraid?”, she then asks, taking a deep breath when the crease on his forehead only thickens. “Of us? Of me? Does this thing we have... I don’t know, frighten you?”

His faint smile flutters a bit as his eyes travel the room. “I wouldn’t say fright. I believe I am incapable of experiencing such thing, as it is not in my design”, as low as his voice is, she can hear him clearly, yet his tone gives her nothing to consider. David is just plain about things, and although (y/n) appreciated his honesty, in that moment she only felt annoyed by it. Noticing her sour face, David inquires, “have I upset you with my words?”

“Not really”, she shrugs, but fails to convince him of her lie. The girl sighs in defeat, closing her eyes for a second. “I just... I can’t understand how you can do what you do with me, hold me close, kiss me so passionate, and tell me that this is all just part of your design. It is not. I can’t... I can’t accept that.”

“That is not what I meant, and you didn’t let me finish my sentence.”

“So finish it.”

“You don’t frighten me, but I must admit I am uncertain of this relationship”, David explains, gazing intently at her. “You are aware of my limitations. I am not human, and I can’t provide you with the fulfilment a male of your species would and that which you probably will need, eventually. Emotional and physical wise.”

(y/n) only hums in thought, nodding once. She then opens up her bathrobe, revealing her naked body to his eyes one more time. “What do you think when you look at me?”, she offers him a small grin, caressing her own curves as she waits for his answer. Some of his liquid remains still ran down her inner thighs and it almost aroused her again, but she contained herself. That question was important.

David’s eyes scan her up and down as he states with a gravelly voice, “I think about having you for myself forever.”

There is pause, and her insides burn with his words. (y/n) then scoffs, shaking her head as she covers herself again. “David, you can’t say things like that.”

With genuinely curious eyes, he retorts, “why?”

“Because I am alone in this giant piece of metal floating in middle of space for two years. And then you tell me this. How am I supposed to react?”

“I simply responded your inquiry, (y/n)”, he mumbles, and there is no indignation to his voice. It is collected as ever, although his confused expression just gave way to a slightly more concerned one. “I don’t see how I could help your feelings, and I am truly sorry for that. However, perhaps... I could try.”

“You can’t, David”, (y/n) sighs, taking his hand into her own. His pale fingers instantly curl against hers and she can’t hide a sad smile looking at them. “Nobody can, I guess. I’m just using you as my free therapist at this point, that’s all.”

David stares at her for a moment and simply nods. “Do continue, then.”

She shakes her head, another bitter smile painting her lips as she does so. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything, you’re right. You can’t and shouldn’t have to help me. Let’s just fuck again and call it a night.”

David stops (y/n) halfway when she tries to straddle his body, raising his brows in a quick realization. “But I want to”, he whispers, squeezing her arms as he holds her in place. He then lets her continue to move onto his hips, pulling her close enough to feel her hot breath against his mouth. David grins at the surprise spread on her features, brushing their lips together, “do you?”

They kiss, eventually, and his tongue takes her places (y/n) didn’t think were possible in the middle of nowhere. His embrace around her waist gives only enough room for her to catch her breath, before she rests her forehead over his.

“Try me.”

#david 8 x reader #prometheus x reader #david 8 imagine #prometheus imagine #michael fassbender x reader #michael fassbender #michael fassbender imagine #prometheus #david 8

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ninapi · 4 months

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*＊✿❀ Bewitched ❀✿＊*

Premise: Prince Keisuke was known to be a troublesome lad, often bringing problems to the queen herself. In an attempt to tame the wild prince, the queen calls for a powerful witch to aid him with his cause, hoping to put an end to this quest sooner. What she didn't count on was love being what he needed most.

Word Count: 2875

Chapter 4: The Witch and the King

The definition of a steamy night would depend on who lived it.

A soft heartwarming hug while sharing a hot beverage was an accurate definition of one for a wounded soul like Kazutora, a walk under the moonlight holding hands, one for Draken, as for Baji Keisuke, a steamy night involved a lot of kissing, his favorite blanket, hair pulling and less clothing.

But to be fair, he was in no shape to do such a thing. “My prince, you were stabbed less than half an hour ago, we shouldn’t be mghfff…” he just wouldn’t let you even talk, his thirst for those juicy lips of yours have been growing wild since the moment you tried to turn his enemy into a rat. “Shhh (Y/N) just kiss me….that’s an order…” while his tone wasn’t commanding at all, it was clear he was trying to abuse of his power to get what he wanted, which of course would not work with you.

“Keisuke.” that made him shiver, your sweet voice had never taken that tone with him, but he somehow liked it, how improper that sounded, to you he was not the prince, he was just a man, a man that loved you, your man? Or so he wishes to think.

“What…?” he mumbled while keeping your lower lip in between his teeth, his scowl being almost comical.

“I said, not now.” the whine that left his lips could be heard all the way down the hall where Draken guarded Kazutora’s room. He’s never been known as a whiny guy, but you made the real him shine, to an embarrassing degree.

“You dare defy your prince?” while his words were harsh, a rather naughty smirk adorned his handsome face. “No, I worry for my prince’s health, you need to rest and get better soon and I need to go and brew a potion for that to happen. We can continue….this…” you motioned to the mess of limbs and sheets you were currently in while sighing “…when you’re in top condition. Agreed?”

While he was pouting heavily, he had no choice but to nod at your words, they weren’t a request, and he knew it. Not a single person would survive using such a tone with the crown prince, safe for yourself.

“You are to come to my chambers as soon as the potion is ready, without stopping at the queen’s chambers, nor Kazutora’s. Agreed?” you were already getting yourself detangled from his strong grip, it amazed you how he still had such strength regardless all that went down just now. “Agreed. It won’t be long.” you bent down just a bit before leaving to place a gentle kiss to his forehead, your fingers threading his long hair. “Rest, my beloved prince.”

Saying he was a mess was an understatement, he didn’t know a human being could melt down to a puddle if given enough love. He didn’t even know someone could feel so much out of a simple act as a gentle touch of his hair. Everything you did to him felt like magic, like only you’d be able to achieve such a thing with him. It was inexplicable and utterly intoxicating. He wanted more, more kisses, more of your soft warmth, your delicious natural scent mixed in with some random herbs, more of that soft look you give him. He wanted more, and that was something he never experienced before. He’s always had it all and didn’t even want half of what he had, but this was the first time he really wanted something, someone.

And that was you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The prince didn’t take long to regain his strength, your potion did wonders to heal his inner wounds and thanks to the rapid treatment of your healing magic nothing major happened with his health.

The quest was now over, even if Hanma Shuji was still on the run, nobody really cared about him anymore. The mastermind had been captured and sent to exile guarded by ancient spells and highly trained military buffs, Pah-chin and Peh-yan renowned members of the elite were tasked as head of this operation.

And most importantly, Kazutora had been retrieved.

While the prince’s physical wounds had been healed, there was very little you could do to heal those wounds of the heart. He had been betrayed by one of his best friends, not once, but twice. He wanted him dead, wanted his woman to himself, wanted to make the past his present, yet he wanted him out of said picture.

That hurts.

Seeing someone you trust and love wanting you out of their life completely, thinking of you as a disposable part of their life is just…painful…

It took time, but having your support made wonders to his mood though, he was brighter when you were by his side, his friends always making sure he had enough moral support from them as well.

However, they were as torn as he was, specially Mikey.

While Mikey refused to meet Kazutora, Keisuke wanted nothing more than to clear the air as soon as possible. Once he was ready to let go of his grief he decided to visit him, taking you along.

“Kazutora…” he was sitting by the window looking over some sheep in the distance. Even if he was technically being held prisoner, truth is he was very comfortable and had never felt as safe.

“Baji?” his mind was clearer lately, his emotional outbursts more stable. While you were no mind doctor, you did a good job trying to get him back to reality in the softest and most gentle of ways. “Are you sure you should be here?” to this he just nodded, sitting beside him to contemplate the sheep.

By the door Draken and you remained quiet, you both knew your presence might be necessary at some point yet you did want them to have a moment of their own.

“The past won’t come back no matter what we do. We must take ownership of our own decisions and move on supporting those we love and care for in their life choices.” Kazutora remained still, he didn’t like where this was going yet he promised you he’d do his best when the prince finally did come talk to him. “We never pushed you away, you could have been part of the military or could take on a different roll like Mitsuya did, we would have supported you, we would have make you a part of our lives like we did back then. But we can’t run away from change, things can’t stay the same forever. That doesn’t mean we have to part ways, if you want to be a part of what we do, all you had to do is tell us.”

You were holding onto the door frame for support, Kazutora was doing a fantastic job listening carefully, he didn’t seem to be agitated, but you were on edge, he could lash out at any moment, while the prince wasn’t worried for his own well being, you were for both.

“Are you and (Y/N) a thing?” his question was more unexpected for you than for him, he was certain he’d touch the subject sooner rather than later.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I’m not the only one who isn’t living in the current timeline, Baji. You are to be king, seems to me you keep forgetting that. Like you said, change can’t be avoided, you will be king soon, you do know what that means right?” while he was saying this with a selfish interest, he was also worried about you getting hurt like he was in the process, you were so kind and selfless, you didn’t belong in this world, very much like he didn’t.

“Means I’ll need a queen.” the gasp that came out of your lips matched Darken’s and Kazutora’s in unison.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’ve never done unnecessary things and I’m not about to start at this age. I am indeed courting her, if that’s your question, and with a serious intent of making her my woman, my queen, to be the mother of the offspring that will carry our legacy to future generations. And I hope you, my friend, will support our union.”

Kazutora was speechless, while he was expecting a fight, he wasn’t expecting it to be this deep and full of raw love. He did care for you, liked you even, he dreamed of living in a small cottage in your forest and visit you daily; but he had never gone as far as to think of marriage or the prospect of bringing offspring to this world.

“Is that what she wants? To be tied to the implications of having royal blood? Because to me she looks like a free spirit who would hate fancy parties and socializing.” that made Baji chuckle, this conversation was turning softer and to a more familiar tone as time went by.

“Oh she’ll hate it for sure. But I treat my girl right. She has her greenhouse here in the castle and she can have all she wants, she’s very good at demanding things. Why do you think she kept coming to see you after all that happened? I had to hear her yell at me for about an hour saying all the good things she could accomplish regarding your overall health if she was allowed in your chambers…I had to say yes, she was driving me insane.” both chuckled together like the good old friends they were.

Seemed like no fight would come, seemed like everything would be just fine.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A few weeks after the altercation, the queen had summoned the royal clothier without the prince’s consent, a rare occurrence to say the least.

“Mitsuya? What are you doing here?” the grin gracing the prince’s features was one you haven’t seen before, it was so warm and full of longing, it made you smile just by seeing it.

“Oh Baji! Hey, your mother requested I brought some gowns and matching outfits for you. How do you feel about a purple cape? I had this idea that’s been eating my brain all morning-

Oh, who’s this?” Mitsuya’s eyes suddenly lit up with your presence, a face he’s never seen before.

“Wait…” his face was suddenly almost pressed to your waist, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist as he examined your body up close.”

“Mitsuya, what the hell are you doing? Get your hands off my girl right this instant-” snarling, Keisuke was pulling Mitsuya away from you as if he was a dangerous wolf.

“Those sizes…” Mitsuya’s mumbling made Keisuke’s cheeks turn bright red, “Just what were you looking at man?”

“The gowns your mother ordered…I thought it was a bit off, her chest size is quite small compared to what she ordered…The gowns are for her aren’t they?”

Before anyone could answer the queen herself entered the room, her grandiose aura causing you to bow your head down immediately.

“Of course they are, dear. But aren’t you a rude one? You should never compare girl’s chest sizes, our pride could shatter easily.”

“Your majesty…” Mitsuya fell to his knees, bowing his head low.

“Get up, silly boy. I shall be queen no more starting tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about, mother?”

“You’re a man now Keisuke. You have what you need to be king, your friends have shown their loyalty to the crown as well as the witch of the forest has shown unconditional love and devotion towards you, the king of this realm. There’s no need for a queen regent anymore.”

There was nothing but silence filling the air as the queen strolled through the multitude of outfits she had requested.

The gowns were fit for a queen and they matched the king’s outfits to perfection, just as she ordered, golden embroidery, rhinestones, silk ribbons.

While you haven’t been formally asked to take on this role, the fact that you continued supporting Keisuke, his decisions and his people, made you a really strong candidate for queen consort. A better option than the far away kingdom princess who just turned seven last spring, that is for sure.

And just like the former king had wished for, his son would take his place the moment he’d become a man, the moment he’d understand what love is and the responsibilities that come with it, he’d be ready to take the crown.

“It’s time for me to retire to the side palace and stop wearing dresses every day. Do it for your mother if nothing else…” even if she was half joking, he could see how tired his mother looked, her fine lines accentuated by the lack of sleep, her features growing old as days went by. He was not a baby anymore, it was his turn to take over, to let his mother get her much desired rest, she was never meant to take on such a load, it was time to lift it from her shoulders.

“My dear witch of the forest. I shall not ask you to stop what you’re best at, on the contrary, I ask you to continue supporting my son, your king, not just as the powerful magic wielder of our kingdom but as woman taking care of her man.” her words were honest and heartfelt, words of a caring loving mother, and they made your face light up like a Christmas tree, bright and red.

“I-I will do my best, your highness.”

“Of course you will. The coronation ceremony will take place as soon as the sun graces our highest hill. Make sure to be there on time, both of you.” and with that she left the room to a speechless bunch.

“Does that mean you’re getting married?” Mitsuya, who was still there was left in awe at the news, “I did not get a wedding dress request. I will need at least a week.”

With boisterous laughter Baji patted Mitsuya’s back, his eyes never leaving yours across the room. “Don’t worry buddy, we still have time for that…I haven’t even asked her out yet…”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[Time Skip]

The king ordered every remaining Valhalla member to join the army, first handedly trained by the best of the best, Ryuguji Ken, right hand of the head of the army himself in charge of turning them all into men of duty.

Kazutora, instead of joining them, decided to help his majesty the queen consort and tend to her green house.

Having a queen that was also the most powerful witch in the real made the kingdom the strongest amongst all since now they weren’t just a military powerhouse but an ancestral magic one as well. So the requests for potions and magical objects was in high demand and a source of income for the kingdom, the queen being pregnant with twins was having a hard time fulfilling all the requests and good old Kazutora remained in the castle to take good care of his dear friend and help her with the arts of brewing potions.

“Keisuke…would you please go to work? We have to provide your entire army a crate of healing potions by noon, stop hogging my assistant!”

“Babe…before he was your assistant, he was my friend, you know that don't you, beautiful?”

“Are you fighting over Kazutora-san again? My king…we must go now…” Chifuyu was trying to drag Baji out of your greenhouse, his horse ready outside the castle for him to ride it towards the neighboring kingdom.

“Chifuyu just take him please, I might end up having the royal babies right now out of stress…”

“WHAT? You feeling sick, baby? I don’t have to go to this thing…I’ll just stay here and make sure you and my children are fine…”

“You don’t have to go to this thing? It’s a banquet in your honor, Keisuke! Get your ass on that horse right now…” your hands were glowing red and he knew well what that meant, without saying anything else he gave your cheek and swollen belly a soft kiss before being escorted out by Chifuyu.

“He’s such a pain, you sure you don’t prefer me? I know how to brew potions now and all~” he was joking but the longing in his tone of voice still tugged at your heartstrings. “Trust me, you don’t wanna deal with him if that were to happen…” giggling together, you spent your day pretty much like any other, brewing potions with Kazutora, tending to your garden, playfully fighting with your husband and listening to Chifuyu nag all day about your swollen ankles and how much you needed to rest.

Being a queen wasn’t easy, being a king wasn’t either. But being a friend, a husband and a wife, a mother and a father, those were more important titles to the two of you.

The Baji dynasty was far from over, a new bright future for the kingdom just began.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

Note: And that's it for this series! 🫧Thank you to all who took time to read it all, I appreciate you 😊❤️ Chifuyu is coming next so hope you stick around!👀

Masterlist Previous Chapter

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #fluff #tokyo rev fluff #baji keisuke #baji x reader #baji x you #tokyo revengers baji #baji fluff #tokyo rev fanfic #baji au #royal au #fantasy au #fantasy romance

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super-hero-confessions · 8 months

Text

Billy Butcher is a genuinely worse person than Homelander and this is plain to see when you actually read the comics.

Homelander actually feels disgusted with himself when he does bad things. And he only does them because he's been led to believe he was horrible without actually having done any of the shit he's blackmailed for in the photos and videos. Including what happened to Becky.

If it's not clear. It was Black Noir, a clone of Homelander, who put on his costume, did those terrible things and enjoyed them, and then took pictures and videos to frame Homelander. Noir was the one to rape Becky, but Homelander got the blame.

And the very few things we actually see Homelander do show us how much revulsion he feels from doing them, to the point where he throws up and has a visceral reaction, like he doesn't actually want to and isn't used to it. Asking himself "what have I done?".

That's far from a spoiler at this point, these comics have been out in full, for several years now. I'm not gonna pull punches or be dishonest about it like some people confessing weird out of context bullshit either.

In contrast.

Butcher kills all of his friends, excuse me. All of the people he used and lied to and made believe he was actually their friend, with no remorse or second thought. Or at least tries to.

Kimiko. Frenchie. MM. Even Vas (Love Sausage). All of them die by Billy's hands. For no other reason beyond.

"They're supes."

Despite the fact that this is after he discovered he was wrong about Homelander the whole fucking time.

Down to trying to kill MM's momma. Down to killing Janine's fucking mother in front of her so that she witnesses it. And then makes sure MM knows that for Billy, he "ain't got no mates".

Hughie is the only one to survive because after killing the others, Butcher threatens to kill Starlight and says he won't stop unless Hughie stops him.

There's no question here. Butcher was always the bigger monster. He just didn't have the power to be as bad as Homelander could be. Potentially.

Potentially. And that is a huge fucking key word.

Barring the fact that Homelander never actually met that potential or even wanted it. Noir was the actual monster, using Billy to confuse him into believing he had, so he would try. Just so the clone could swoop in kill him.

Imagine that.

And there are still people deranged enough to think there's any kind of contest on who's worse between Billy and Homelander?

Fuck's sake, this guy immediately kills a fucking premie baby instead of trying to pacify it because it's terrified out of its mind and has powers it can't control. With a lamp.

I love the show, I love the portrayals and the jobs done by the actors. I think it does a great job touching on the important topics and themes in the comics while connecting it to current events. I do hope it has a different ending. But one thing's clear.

While the characters are fundamentally the same at their cores. They made Billy softer and sweeter while they made Homelander harder and more ruthless in order to make the dynamic more mainstream and less controversial. Which is honestly a bit disappointing.

It also makes me a little worried because if they don't find a way to navigate that well, it may mean they've messed up the finish line before we could ever reach it. They could definitely go for something more comic accurate or even include Billy killing Ryan and just not caring anymore as per typical Butcher fashion, but given that they've already chickened out on some of the more intense stuff, I can't say it's high in the hopes factor.

And a happy ending doesn't exactly feel appropriate either.

But who knows, maybe the set up is there specifically to make everything hurt that much more in the end if or when Billy betrays everyone.

And this is coming from someone who is ecstatic to see Homelander go on a chaotic rampage of blood, death, and destruction. Bring it the fuck on you goddamn chaos cockteases.

But yeah, no. It's no contest. Billy is a far worse character than Homelander in the comics, and he has the potential to get a lot worse in the show. He's not there yet, but it's pretty clear he actively wants to be and it's grating him that he isn't yet.

Guess it'll be interesting to see if that comes to fruition or if there's even some crazy twist that shows us Homelander isn't as bad as people think.

#confession #the boys #billy butcher

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the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 4)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: As always, thank you to everyone reading this and coming on this journey with me.

—-----------------

You watched carefully as Billy tried to hotwire the car to no avail. It wasn’t the first one he’d tried, you’d lost count somewhere between car four and five. After he’d calmed down slightly, he’d announced you’d both be taking one of these cars back to his camp. His rationale was that there were so many, that one of them had to work. Only a bunch of them now looked like swiss cheese and the others just didn’t run after being sat here for so long. Every single one he tried had been a failure and you were starting to get anxious. He was in a terrible mood, not that you blamed him, but he hadn’t uttered a word to you after he’d told you his plan. The only thing coming out of his mouth was curse words directed at the cars every time it didn’t work. Sometimes he’d even hit the car as if he thought that might help, but you knew this was your fault and it was prickling at you. The idea of him being mad at you because of what you cost the camp felt like a heavy stone settling in your stomach and you just wanted to leave. You’d been here hours now working on the cars and you needed to get back before it got dark. On the way here you’d driven through a neighborhood so you knew you could camp out there to wait out the night, the journey being considerably longer on foot than in a car. You didn’t know how to broach it to him though without the possibility of him blowing up on you. He was well within his rights to leave you here but you were further than you’d been out here and you weren’t sure you’d know your way back on your own. But as he lay on the front seat with his long legs dangling out of the open car door, once again cursing as the car wouldn't start, your eyes anxiously darted to the sky you knew would be getting dark soon before back to him.

“Billy… we should just leave on foot,” you murmured, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. He shot you a dirty look before trying once again with a car.

“I’m serious, I don’t wanna be stuck out on the highway at night,” you added, worry lacing your tone. It was bad enough being so out in the open if the dead came but you’d already had a run-in with the living and you didn’t want a repeat performance if they came back. You’d hoped it would be a long time since you had to deal with hostiles again but you knew you’d asked for too much. You could only hope they had just been passing through. He heaved a large drawn-out sigh and you prepared yourself for an earful. Instead though, he sat up, wiping a weary hand over his face as he rolled his shoulder.

“Fine, let’s go,” he muttered, climbing out of the car and slamming the door shut roughly, making you wince. You grabbed the duffel from the floor that you hadn’t put in the van before it was taken. All that was in it so far were the comics but you wondered if there would be anything in the house you’d camp out at. Neighborhoods could be deadly but this one seemed silent with no sign of the dead or the living. Clearing out one house if needed wouldn't be too bad.

You followed him as he walked, not quite in step with him as you were feeling far too on edge by his silence.

“We should go by those houses we passed on the way here, camp there for the night,” you suggested gently, eyeing him as you did. All you got was a stiff nod and you gripped the duffel bag tighter. The tense silence felt like it was suffocating you as you walked and when you were almost at the houses, you couldn't take it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, a deep frown on your face. Billy didn’t stop walking but he turned to look at you, a confused look on his face.

“What for?” he asked, sounding oblivious and your frown only deepened.

“This was my fault. If you didn’t bring me here to cheer me up, the van and all of your supplies wouldn't have been stolen,” you lamented. Billy’s dark eyes roamed your face quickly for a minute and you couldn't read his expression.

“Did you steal the van?” he asked pointedly.

“Well, no but-” you started, getting cut off by him.

“Then stop feelin’ guilty for shit that ain’t your fault,” his tone was bitingly final, his raised brow punctuating the sentiment. Part of you wanted to argue, to tell him it was your fault, that you were the start of the chain of events that led it to happen but you kept your mouth shut. Surprisingly, he wasn’t mad at you and you weren’t about to convince him to be, so you decided it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You fell into step with him then as you both walked, feeling a little less tense at the idea of having to stay the night with him since he wasn’t pissed at you. When you finally got to the houses, it had started to get a little dark and Billy stopped, you stopping next to him as you looked around. The street was mostly silent, a few roamers lurking further down but they wouldn’t be a problem. You looked up at Billy as his dark eyes assessed the houses and you wondered what was going through his head, what exactly he was looking for as he picked one. But then he was off again and you followed him to a blue house. He banged on the door much like he had the time you went to the hunting store but no noise greeted you, so he pushed open the door. Despite it starting to get dark outside, it wasn’t dark enough to blanket the inside of the house in complete darkness and your eyes swept around the place as you both walked in and shut the door. You strained your ears to see if you heard anything. Any shuffling, banging or groaning, but you heard nothing.

“I’ll check upstairs, you check down here,” Billy muttered and you nodded at him before he started making his way upstairs. The house didn’t smell like death which you were grateful for. One of the houses you’d been to with your old group a while back had the stench of death so ingrained into it that you didn’t think it would ever leave. The family there had been decomposing in the master bedroom. The dad had killed his three kids and his wife before turning the gun on himself, seemingly thinking he was saving them all from a worse fate. Maybe he had.

You looked around, your knife at the ready with every door you opened but nothing popped out and tried to bite you so you relaxed a little. You were just making your way back into the living area when Billy came downstairs.

“All clear,” he stated.

“Same here,” you nodded, moving to flop onto the sofa and give your weary feet a rest. You watched him as he grabbed a small trash can from the corner of the room and brought it to the middle near the coffee table. He then went over to the little bookcase along the wall, looking at the books for a long moment before selecting one. He didn’t choose it to read though, instead, he opened the book and started ripping out the pages, throwing them into the trash can. When he was satisfied, he took a lighter out of his jeans pocket and set a page on fire before tossing that into the trash can also, making a small fire. You were grateful for the warmth as it started to get colder as the darkness got worse. He moved over to a large cupboard then and pushed it in front of the front door, no doubt to stop anyone coming in. He then went into the back of the house and you heard scraping on the floor and you presumed he was doing the same with the back door. You’d offer to help him but you didn’t want to get in his way, especially when you still felt sheepish over him losing his van. When he came back in, he was carrying a saucepan, grill rack, a tin of tomato soup, two bowls and two spoons.

“There’s food?” you asked hopefully and he gave you a smile with a nod.

“Yeah. Not too much but it’s better than nothin’,” he said as he put the rack over the trash can and then put the saucepan on it. You didn’t exactly have your own backpack with you, not packing for a trip overnight. You had no food on you for either of you and you hoped there would be enough to take back too, that maybe it would soften the blow of all you’d lost. He emptied the soup into the saucepan before sitting on the floor near the fire. It didn't take too long to warm up the soup but he still had to keep stopping to put more pages of the book in the fire since it burned so quickly. But before long, he was handing you a warm bowl of soup.

“Thanks,” you murmured sincerely, wasting no time in digging right in. It felt so odd now to eat out of a bowl and with a spoon, felt so foreign. Even just having warm soup for once was a pure delight that felt so far removed from all you knew.

When you were done, you set the bowl on your lap for a moment as you enjoyed the feeling of being full with something warm for once. But now with the warm food and the fire, you started feeling a little hot. You shimmied out of your jacket, tossing it next to you on the sofa before rearranging your scarf out of habit.

“You wear that thing ‘cause you're cold or ‘cause of the scar?” he asked bluntly, dark eyes watching you.

“What?” you squeaked out, body tensing at his words.

“I’m just sayin’... I get it if you wear it ‘cause it reminds you of bad shit, probably doesn't make you feel good. But if that’s why you’re wearin’ it then you’re thinkin’ about it all wrong,” he shrugged, going back to eating his soup.

“And how should I be thinking about it?” you asked pointedly, drawing his eyes to you again. He licked his lower lip and tilted his head at you.

“Those assholes tried to kill you, slit your goddamn throat and somehow, you survived and here you are and now they're dead. You got outta there alive. You should wear that thing like a badge of honor. It shows how strong you are, that you're a fighter, a survivor. It shows anyone that sees it that you're not weak,” he insisted firmly, eyes never wavering from you. You looked away quickly, toying with the spoon for a moment. He wasn’t wrong. It wasn't like you got to see it often but just knowing it was there would make you feel sick. You’d wear your scarf even when no one was around as if you could pretend none of it had ever happened. Because when you remembered, you got flashes of what they’d done and how scared you’d been, helpless. You didn’t like it. But you’d never thought about it the way Billy just explained it and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. The whole topic felt very heavy and far too deep and you weren't here looking to get attached to anyone. That was a fast track for one of you to die and you didn't want Billy to die. You cleared your throat before setting your bowl on the coffee table.

“I’m gonna see what shit they have upstairs. They might have some clothes we can take,” you murmured awkwardly, not missing the look of disappointment cross his face at you not acknowledging his words. You stood up and walked up the stairs trying not to feel too guilty about it.

You started in the master bedroom and found a suitcase in the bottom of the closet. You got to work filling it up with clothes. You weren’t sure if there would be stuff to fit everyone but you did your best, folding things up carefully so you could get as much in as possible. Even things like t-shirts or long-sleeve tees would be good for winter if you layered them. Once you cleared out anything usable, you went into the kids’ room. The pictures on the wall and the two beds in the room made it seem like they were twins, a boy and a girl. Once again, you had no idea if anything would fit but you put stuff into the suitcase anyway hoping they could make use of it. On your way out of the bedroom, your eyes were drawn to the nightstand where an iPod lay. You picked it up and turned it on, fully expecting it not to work. To your surprise, it turned on. A smile broke out on your face and you got the urge to listen to it but you stopped yourself and turned it back off, slipping it into the suitcase. You’d let the kids have it, give them some sunshine in their very dark world. It wouldn't last forever obviously but you hoped it would at least make them smile.

The suitcase was getting heavy but you made your way into the bathroom, setting the suitcase down on the floor before opening the cupboards and rummaging around. You found some pain pills, nothing major but maybe they’d come in handy and you put them in the suitcase too. You noticed some body wash and shampoo on the side of the bath and while they weren’t really essential, they were still hard to come by. You knew the creek ran behind these houses and you wondered if Billy would be okay with you cleaning up a little before you head out the next day. You knew you needed it, maybe he’d want to too. You put them in the suitcase too, leaving them at the top where you could easily get to them if you ended up needing them the next day. When you were done, you glanced into the mirror feeling confused about who was looking back at you. The end of the world wasn’t kind to anyone and you’d definitely lost weight out here with so many days you’d gone without food. You looked tired beyond belief, rings around your eyes. You blinked at yourself for a long moment before you carefully unwrapped the scarf from around your neck and forced yourself to look at the jagged skin there. It looked a lot better than the last time you’d seen it but it was still glaringly obvious. You felt that wave of nausea but you blew out a long breath and forced your eyes not to look away. You tried to remember Billy’s words, that this was something to be proud of. A badge of honor. This was physical proof that you’d made it out of there that day and Frank and Billy had taken care of your problem for you. As you tried to take his words to heart, it got a little easier to look at it. You kept repeating in your head that you were a survivor and you looked down at the scarf in your hands before you folded it up and put it into your jacket pocket. You weren’t sure when you’d feel the deep need to hide it come back but for now, you’d see how this went.

“Find anythin’ good?” Billy’s voice startled you and you whipped around, a hand over your chest.

“Jesus Christ, you need to wear a bell or something,” you huffed, feeling your heart beat against your hand rapidly.

“Thought I wasn’t stealthy?” he asked amused, raising a brow at you and you gave him a look. You noticed then how his eyes darted to the scar on your throat and your body tensed a little. He didn’t look repulsed or disgusted though and instead, you noticed how his lips curled into a small smile seemingly happy that while you hadn’t acknowledged his words, you’d clearly listened to him. You were grateful that he didn’t comment on it though, you’d feel far too awkward for that.

“So, what d'you get?” he asked as he glanced down at the suitcase.

“Some clothes, not much but it's better than nothing,” you smirked, echoing his earlier words and he chuckled.

“I found an iPod too for the kids, and some pain pills,” you added and he smiled.

“That’s good. More than what we came here with,” he murmured, looking pleased and it made you happy. He grabbed the suitcase with ease from the floor before he left the room and you followed him. When you both got downstairs, he set the suitcase by the door before sitting in the armchair and you sat on the sofa again.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured as you sunk into the soft cushions.

“What about you?” you asked, raising a brow at him. He also looked pretty tired.

“I’m gonna take watch,” he explained and you rolled your eyes.

“You need sleep too, Billy. You take first shift and wake me up, then you can get some rest,” you said, giving him a firm look before he could argue. He snorted but nodded.

“Alright,” he acquiesced and you felt a little better. You didn't need someone watching over you sleeping like you were some princess, you were more than capable of taking watch just like anyone else. You pulled your boots off before laying down on the sofa, facing away because it was weird to sleep facing him. You hadn’t slept around anyone else in what felt like forever and it was a strange feeling to do so again. You were so exhausted that it didn’t take long for you to drift off, feeling the safety of having someone else there with you and the warm fire going.

When you woke up, it took your brain a moment to figure out your surroundings as your eyes adjusted, but once you came to your senses, the first thing you were very aware of was that it was now light outside. You sat up, glancing around and seeing Billy nowhere. Hearing some movement in the kitchen, you got up, padding over to the kitchen door and peeping inside. Billy was filling up the duffel bag you’d brought with you with what little food was in the cupboards.

“What happened to waking me up for watch?” you asked as you rubbed your eyes tiredly. You’d admit it was the best sleep in a while. He shot you a wry smirk before continuing to stuff things in the bag.

“You looked peaceful,” he shrugged and you narrowed your eyes at him even though he couldn't see.

“Billy-” you started, a chastising tone to your voice but he cut you off.

“It’s fine, I got some sleep too. We were pretty safe, didn’t see the need in wakin’ you,” he explained, zipping up the bag and turning to you. Your eyes scanned his face for a moment and he did seem a little more well rested than the day before. You decided to drop it.

“I was hoping before we left that I could go by the creek to wash up. I found some body wash and stuff last night,” you mused. It wasn’t like you really needed his permission, you were a big girl and could do what you wanted. But you’d cost him his van and supplies and you didn’t want him to just leave you behind if he just wanted to hurry up and get back.

“Sounds like a good idea, I think I’ll wash up too,” he nodded, flashing you a smile before he walked back into the living area. You followed him, watching as he went upstairs, and you grabbed the shampoo and body wash and also a clean change of clothes you’d found. You weren’t too fussed with finding things for yourself, you had a couple of things back at your treehouse. You’d been more concerned with making up for what you’d lost them. You did grab one change of clothes though simply because you needed them and you knew you’d need things to layer once it got colder. You grabbed a pair of dark gray jeans, a black long sleeve tee and a red plaid shirt to go over it. You’d also packed some underwear for everyone. While in the old world, wearing someone else's under garments would have horrified you, beggars couldn't be choosers here. They had been in the chest of drawers clean and it would give you an opportunity to wash your own in the creek as well as your current outfit. Billy came down then and you noticed he’d brought down a few large fluffy towels from the bathroom and it made you smile. There were a lot of things you took for granted in your old life that were precious luxuries now. Billy handed you a towel and you took it gratefully, bundling all your items together as he rummaged through the suitcase for some clothes too. You watched as he picked black jeans, a white tee and a dark red sweater.

You both headed out the back door of the house and went out the back gate that was directly behind the creek.

“Alright, you go first, I’ll keep watch,” he instructed and it was already something you’d anticipated. You’d been about to say the same thing to him. The both of you being naked and vulnerable was the quickest way for things to go south if a threat appeared, whether that was living or dead.

“Are you gonna turn around?” you asked with a raised brow as he just looked at you. A devilish smirk curled his lips as he tilted his head.

“You really gonna deprive me like that? You know how long it’s been since I seen a naked woman?” he asked, amused. The wry grin tugging at your lips really took the wind right out of the ‘firm’ look you were giving him and his eyes danced with mischief as you gestured with your finger to turn around. He rolled his eyes playfully but complied.

“If you take a peek, I’ll have to return the favor,” you murmured as you started stripping off.

“You say that like I got somethin’ to be ashamed of,” he laughed and you snorted at him. It wasn’t like you were too bothered with nudity these days, modesty had no place in the new world. There had been plenty of times where your old camp mates had seen you naked at some point or another out of necessity to get clean, the only person you point blank refused to with was your brother because that was just fucking weird. But something about Billy seeing you naked made your whole body flush. Once naked, you took your dirty clothes, shampoo and body wash over to the creek and got to work. You tried to be quick, not liking being so vulnerable like this and also not wanting to take up too much time so Billy also got a turn. You washed yourself and enjoyed how amazing it felt to be grime free and smell so good, even if the water was super cold. In the rare moments you’d been able to wash up at the creek that ran down the forest, you’d not been able to use products to do so. With your body and hair washed, you got to work quickly washing your clothes before you got out, squeezing out as much water as you could before wrapping the towel around you. You lay your clothes out on a large rock, not that it would do much good to dry them since it wasn’t really warm, but it would be better than nothing until you got inside. You took the towel from your body, giving you hair a rough towel dry before drying yourself. This was also something you didn’t get to do often and nothing sucked more than having to put clothes back on while you were still wet so you made sure to dry yourself completely. You were just stepping into your panties when Billy’s voice broke the silence.

“Nice ass,” he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice. Your head whipped over your shoulder but he wasn't looking at you and you squinted. You couldn't tell if he peeped or not.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, so now I’m gonna have to look at your ass. I hope you’re happy,” you sighed dramatically. He did turn then but thankfully your panties were now on and while the rest of you was still bare, your body was facing the other way, your head the only thing facing him.

“Don’t sound so hard done to, sweetheart. I think you’ll like the view,” he smirked and you couldn't help the inelegant snort that left your lips as his confidence.

“You flirt with every strange girl you meet, Billy?” you asked him teasingly as you turned back around and grabbed your bra. It was a size too small and not great and you’d often considered forgoing one altogether. But you felt like most of your body heat seemed to come from your breasts like some personal body heater and the bra added an extra layer of insulation. Without it, if your boobs got cold, the rest of you would soon follow and you’d have no chance.

“Only the pretty ones,” he replied smoothly and you could hear his smirk even if you couldn't see it, you felt your cheeks burn hot. You shimmied into your new jeans and then slipped the tee over your head and then the shirt, buttoning most of the buttons but leaving the top few undone.

When you turned around, he was still looking at you with a sly smirk on his face and you had no idea if he’d been watching you the entire time you got dressed. You couldn't even be mad at him with the boyish look he was giving you and you rolled your eyes, scooping your knife and thigh sheath from the floor where you’d left it.

“Your turn,” you snorted, moving over to where he was. With one last smirk, he walked over to the creek and you heard him shuffling around and getting out of his clothes.

“Thought you were gonna look at my ass,” he remarked wryly and you smiled to yourself. You were quickly realising he was a cheeky little fucker.

“I am, but I didn’t say when. Gotta keep you on your toes,” you replied playfully and he chuckled at you. When the sound of clothes rustling stopped, you waited a beat before glancing over your shoulder. He was walking over to the creek and you got a good eyeful of his ass, and what an ass he had.

“Nice ass,” you smirked, making him look over at you with a laugh. He didn’t look embarrassed at the least, only amused and a little cocky as he shrugged with a grin. You shook your head before turning away again and letting him get on with his task. You kept watch vigilantly, making sure to be aware of any threats that might pop up. Billy was counting on you here to have his back with him so vulnerable and exposed and he’d done the same for you. You stayed that way until he walked over to you fully dressed and clean.

“God, I missed bein’ clean,” he sighed, rubbing at his hair with his towel.

“Tell me about it. I always dream of finding some kick ass cabin in the woods that has a rigged up water system or something,” you snorted, making him smile. You’d love something like that. You knew it was possible but you’d have no idea where to start to make something like that yourself. You both grabbed your items and brought them back into the house, bundling the wet clothes into the towels and putting them in the suitcase. You’d lay yours out to dry once you got back, you didn’t have time to sit there waiting. After making sure you had everything, you both set off to make your journey back home. Billy had insisted on carrying the suitcase since it was ridiculously heavy, even at your insistence that you were fine and you’d been the one to pack it so full, so you wound up with the duffel which to be honest, was still pretty heavy. You’d shared dry cereal as you walked, passing the box back and forth between you both as you made small talk. He’d told you a bit about growing up in foster care and you’d told him about your family and brother. Before long, you recognised where you were as you weaved through the woods to his camp. Your body clock had a pretty good gauge on morning, afternoon, evening and night and it was telling you it was somewhere in the afternoon.

“Are they gonna be worried about you?” you asked as the thought occurred to you. Billy had essentially vanished the morning before and hadn't come back.

“Probably,” he answered simply and you nodded. It made you feel a little uncomfortable, the idea of his people running around like headless chickens wondering where he’d gone. This whole thing had been because of you, because Billy wanted to cheer you up. You didn’t want them all panicking that he was gone, but that was exactly the scene you came back to. Not everyone was there but those that were seemed panicked as they rushed about. Karen was the first to see you both and relief seemed to hit her like a train before she barreled over and tackled Billy into a hug.

“Oh my god! Where have you been?! We’ve been worried sick about you! Frank, Curt and Micro have been out looking since last night!” she rambled, squeezing him tightly. He smiled lightly and rubbed her back before she moved away.

“Got caught up, some shit went down. I’ll tell you when Frank gets back,” he murmured and she nodded. Her eyes drifted to you then and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re both okay though?” she asked, looking from you to Billy.

“Yeah, we’re good,” he smiled, tapping her on the arm.

“I’ll walkie Frank and let him know,” Matt smiled, grabbing a walkie from near a sleeping bag.

“Raven, come in, this is Red Devil,” Matt said into the walkie and you looked over curiously at the weird names.

“Go ahead,” Frank’s voice came through the walkie and he sounded stressed.

“Blackbird’s here, just got back…” Matt explained before he glanced over to you even though you knew he couldn't see you. “Artemis is with him,” Matt added and your lips curled in amusement as you turned to Karen who was closest to you.

“Artemis?” you asked with a snort and she smiled.

“We all have code names, we thought you needed one too. Billy was the one who picked it,” she grinned and you turned your eyes to Billy then who smirked at you.

“Artemis? Really?” you asked and he shrugged.

“Come on, Goddess of the hunt? You even got a bow and everything,” he grinned ruefully and you shook your head with a smile. It was a bit of a compliment if you were honest.

“They’re on their way back,” Matt informed you, you’d missed whatever Frank’s reply had been since you’d been talking to Billy and Karen. You felt anxious then knowing he wouldn't be too happy to learn his van and the supplies in said van were now gone. You had the urge to say your goodbyes now but you couldn't do that to Billy and leave him to deliver the bad news on his own like that. With Billy back, the others in the camp seemed a lot calmer as they all settled around the fire.

“Oh, before I forget!” Karen rushed over to a bag on the floor rifling though it for a moment before rushing back over and holding out a walkie to you.

“This is for you. It’s already set to our channel so if you have it on, you might hear us communicating if we’re not with each other and stuff. But if you ever need us, feel free. Not all of us have them on all the time but at least one person does so you should be able to get through if you need anything,” she smiled. You blinked at it for a moment before you took it, grasping tightly in your hand.

“I uh… thank you,” you murmured, a shy smile on your lips. It was an incredibly kind gesture and one they didn’t need to extend to an outsider. It said a lot about how much they trusted you, giving you a direct line to listen in to their conversations like that. It did make you feel a little safer though, knowing if you were ever in a bind, you could reach out if you needed to. You waited around a little bit feeling nerves and guilt twist at your stomach. You’d had to fight the instinct to gravitate towards Billy who was chatting to Sarah near the tent and you just leaned against a tree as you waited for the others to come back. It didn’t take them too long.

“Jesus fuck, Bill! Where’ve you been, man?” Frank asked harshly, an accusing tone to his voice that was in conflict to his very concerned face. He made a beeline for the man and grabbed in in a hug that reminded you of when Billy had turned up after thinking his camp would all be dead. When he pulled away, he gave Billy a look.

"I got some bad news, Frankie,” he chuckled sheepishly, rolling his shoulder. He looked like a child about to be told off.

“What is it?” Frank asked seriously.

“I went out to the highway, took Y/N with me,” Billy started.

“I thought we were going out there in a few days,” Foggy frowned in confusion and it only made you feel worse. If the group had gone out there and not just you and Billy they might have had a fighting chance to keep their van if the assholes still showed up to take it.

“I know, but you know me,” Billy smirked and Frank scoffed.

“Impulsive is your middle name,” he muttered with a wry smile. You wondered why Billy didn’t rat you out about why he’d taken you there. He made it seem like he was the reason for all of this and he’d just taken you along for the ride.

“Well we went out there, I got a bunch of gas, Y/N found a bunch of clothes and shit, good for the winter. But then these assholes in a truck pull up, start rainin’ bullets down on us. And I’m takin’ heavy fire power here, rapid gunfire and shit. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Next thing we know, they’re takin’ off in our van. Took it with all the shit inside,” Billy frowned, a dark look passing on his face, you remembered how mad he’d been when it happened, how you thought he’d been mad at you.

“I’m really sorry, Frank,” you frowned and he turned to look at you.

“You’re kiddin’, right? I mean, yeah it sucks we lost our shit but you two are safe and that’s all that matters,” he said sincerely, looking at you like that should have been obvious.

“We had to walk back, camped out in a house overnight. Y/N found some shit at the house though so we brought it back,” Billy explained as he gestured to the duffel and suitcase on the floor.

“What did you get?” Sarah smiled warmly as she glanced from Billy to you.

“Clothes mostly, just tried to fit in as much as I could. Billy found some food too,” you shrugged.

“She got some shit for the kids too,” Billy grinned, unzipping the duffel bag. The comics were only in his hand for a second before Zach snatched them up.

“Awesome!” he beamed, running off to the tent with them.

“Zachary!” Sarah chided, her mouth agape as Micro snorted.

“Thanks!” Zach yelled before he was in the tent and you smiled to yourself.

“What’s this?” Leo asked curiously, grabbing the iPod out of the suitcase. It was obvious by her face that she knew what it was, just not who it was for.

“I found it in one of the bedrooms, thought you guys might like it. It still has some charge left,” you smiled. Her eyes widened, a face splitting grin taking over as she jumped up. She shocked you when she wrapped her arms around you for a very brief hug before she pulled away.

“Thank you!” she grinned widely, popping the earbuds in right away before moving to sit under a tree. You felt yourself smile, happy they liked what you’d gotten them. This life was hard enough but you couldn't imagine going through this as a kid.

“Thank you,” Sarah murmured, sincerity coating her voice as she squeezed your arm. You nodded, smiling shyly and not feeling all too comfortable with all the focus on you.

You were thankful when Billy took the suitcase over near the fire and pretty much everyone started looking through it, pulling things out and claiming them. Frank and Karen were still standing near the tree as they spoke softly among themselves and you walked over.

“I’m gonna head out,” you said with a sheepish smile. It always felt weird to announce you were leaving like this, it made you feel awkward. Before Frank or Karen had a chance to reply, another voice came from behind you.

“You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye?” Billy asked with a teasing tone, moving to stand next to you.

“I’m hurt, thought we bonded and shit. Even saw each other’s asses and everythin’,” he huffed playfully, pouting a little. You almost choked on the air you were breathing as Frank barked out a laugh and Karen’s eyes widened.

“You what?” she asked with a laugh.

“I knew it!” Foggy exclaimed from near the fire, pointing at you and you felt your face heat up.

“I wasn’t gonna leave without a goodbye,” you muttered with an eye roll and a smile, willing your face to calm itself with how flushed you felt.

“Mhm, sure,” Billy scoffed, his slight smile betraying his offended tone.

“It was good seein’ you again, Y/N,” Frank smiled kindly and you smiled back. It seemed like that was his go to parting words for you and you wondered if he felt as awkward as you did with these goodbyes.

“Karen give you the walkie?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you said, holding it up in your hand.

“Alright, don’t be afraid to use it,” he said firmly, giving you a look.

“And you still need to come around for dinner sometime,” Karen reminded you with a grin.

“I will,” you snorted, making her smile before she glanced at Billy and then tugged on Frank’s arm to lead him to the fire with the others, leaving you with just Billy.

“I’d offer to walk you back but we seem to have the unfortunate habit of windin’ up in trouble when we’re alone together,” he smirked in amusement and you snorted.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something,” you grinned.

“Maybe it is, but I like a little danger so not too sure what message it’s tryin’ to send me,” he shot you a toothy grin and you smiled.

“Stay safe, alright?” he added, raising his brows at you.

“I’ll try my best,” you murmured wryly and he nodded, moving over to the duffel on the floor. You hadn’t noticed but he’d put the towel and your wet clothes in there and you saw before he zipped it that he’d also left some of the food items in there for you and it made you smile.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“Anytime. And remember what Frank said, you need anythin’, you use the walkie,” his face was a little more serious then and you nodded.

“Do I need to use the codenames?” you asked teasingly and his grin was back then.

“Obviously,” he snorted and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I don’t even know them, except for yours, Frank's and Matt’s,” you shrugged and he moved away, looking through a backpack you were sure was Karen’s since it was near her sleeping bag. He grabbed a notebook out of it and a pen and started scribbling something on it. You waited patiently until he tore the page out and sauntered back over to you.

“Better get memorizin’ ‘em. I’ll be givin’ you a quiz in a few days,” he smirked playfully and you took the paper, noticing he’s scribbled everyone's names and codenames down.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered impishly and he raised his brow, a slow sly smirk spreading on his face that made you feel almost weak at the knees.

“I’m leaving,” you huffed with a snort, making him laugh as you turned on your heel and left.

When you got back to your treehouse, the first thing you did was bury the rabbit from the day before. It was still there and the last thing you wanted was to draw the dead to where you were sleeping. After that, you climbed up and pulled the ladder up. You clipped the walkie to your backpack before opening the duffel bag and setting your wet clothes over the hole of the window to dry, then you sat down and grabbed a tin of peaches, using your pocket knife to open it. You glanced at the paper Billy had given you, reading over the list.

Billy - Blackbird

Frank - Raven

Curtis - Pirate

Karen - Swan

Matt - Red Devil

Foggy - Badger

Micro - Spook

Sarah - Mama Bear

Leo - Lion

Zach - Hawk

You smiled to yourself as you read it before putting it into the front pocket of your backpack and devouring the peaches. You settled leaning against the wall and sighed, your head falling back onto the wood with a thud. It suddenly felt far too silent in your little treehouse all alone.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

#billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo

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aquaticpal · 8 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - Chrysalis

So the other day I promised to share something related to this post 🙂 This is a random OoT idea that popped up a few weeks ago, and I managed to nurse it into a full-blown comic script (thanks @aegon-targaryen for listening to my blabs). Now, I have a buuuunnnch of things to do before I have anywhere near the time to draw such a lengthy comic, so it's going to sit in this script form for a long time maybe forever. Still, I wanted to put it out here so that it at least exists in this form 😌

Chrysalis

Rating: G Word count: ~2000 Tags: canon divergence, fix-it fic, healing, let's pretend this is an AU where uhhh Navi doesn't exist

[desert sand dunes - night, around a campfire]

"Hahhh... Sheik, you saved me again..."

"A couple pieces of bread and dried meat was all it took, and you went traipsing across the desert without even that?"

"I had them! It just... didn't last as long as I thought...!

I used to stay out all night in the forest and got by fine just picking a few berries... dunno what happened..."

"You have a body twice the size to feed now. Idiot." "Oh... yeah..."

"Aren't you gonna have some, Sheik? (I feel weird eating by myself...)"

"I ate earlier. No need." "Pff, I know you're just trying to avoid taking down your mask, right? (It's fine, I get it)"

"My hands are occupied."

[Link stretches out under the wide, endlessly vast desert sky, full of stars]

"Thanks for the music. It's a real treat for the last night before the Spirit Temple tomorrow."

"After I clear the last temple... that'll be it, right? Then I'll be able to see Princess Zelda?"

"...Presumably."

"I wonder what she'll be like, after seven years... Hey Sheik, you know where she is, right? Do you talk with her? Have you met her?"

"As if I would divulge that information." "I guess I'll just have to find out tomorrow~"

"What if when you meet her,

she's not the perfect person that you imagine? What if she's actually selfish, or cowardly, or cruel?"

"What if she has blood on her hands?"

"Sheik."

[Link's hand has moved to the Master Sword.]

"You don't like Princess Zelda very much, do you."

"..."

"She is using you."

"She's my friend! She's not that kind of person. And I want to help her."

"Aren't the Sheikah supposed to be loyal to the Royal Family? Are you?"

"That is where my loyalty lies. The Princess can trust me to work for her goal, as can you. I have no obligation to like her as a person.

But perhaps you shouldn't trust me fully, either."

"You don't seem like a bad person. You've been helping me get to all the temples. And you've never tried to do anything bad to me even though you could sneak up on me anytime."

Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

[plink] "You are far too quick to open your heart to others. You may have missed the past seven years, but in a world like this, there are many who would take the opportunity to strike at that openness."

"It's okay, I'm the Hero. I can take it." "You can't treat your own well-being so frivolously like that!"

"All of Hyrule's fate is dependent on you!"

"In a world like this... people need someone who opens their heart more than ever, don't they?

I'm lucky. I slept through all these years, and I woke up strong - strong enough to fight the evils in this world. Strong enough to help all the people who's been hurt and worn down by years of darkness.

So, I don't mind taking a few nicks or hits if it means giving a bit of hope to someone who needs it. It's what I'm made for.

I don't know where Zelda is, but... I hope she can see it, too. That all over Hyrule things are getting a little better, so wherever she is, hopefully things are a little brighter too."

[His optimism makes his face glow in the firelight. Sheik is silent.]

"She doesn't deserve you."

"You sound jealous." ("Don't be absurd!")

"I-I have to go." "Wait, hold--"

[behind a nearby rock formation, Sheik re-materializes, hands clenched]

===

[shot of clasped, gloved hands - Temple of Time] "...It was I, Zelda. Princess of Hyrule."

"I'm sorry for deceiving you all this time..." [Link steps forward, reaching out, hopeful]

!! [The room shakes, a crystal forms around Zelda]

[her vision blacks out, the last sight being Link inaudibly banging on the crystal]

"...Ganondorf... pitiful man..."

"Six Sages... now!"

"...the road between times... will be closed..."

"Link, give the ocarina to me.

As a Sage, I can return you to your original time with it."

[instead of giving the ocarina, Link reaches out and cradles her outstretched hand, like a wounded thing.]

"Are you all right?" "What... I..."

"You look so sad.

Back then, that time when you were talking as Sheik. You said you didn't like the Princess very much."

"It was my childish whims that threw Hyrule into ruin. I have to make amends for all the souls that suffered the price for my mistake. Most of all, you."

"Can I talk to Sheik?" "I..."

"That's just me, Link." "No"

"Even though Sheik was always behind a mask, It seemed like you could talk more truthfully then."

"Link, this isn't the time..." "This is the time! If you're going to send me back, if you want me to give you the ocarina... then at least I want to hear it from Sheik. I want to hear your true words."

"I..."

[Zelda turns away, huddled into herself]

[but silently and motionlessly, she Shifts]

"Can we go somewhere else?"

===

[Lake Hylia - the island with the warp pedestal]

"It's nice to be here without having to worry you'll run off again."

"You're not gonna run off, right?" "Link, please."

[they sit silently for a moment, looking out over the water]

"Is this what you really want? Will it make you happy?"

"This isn't about that. The people of Hyrule--" "That's not what I asked."

"...It doesn't matter." "I'm asking how you feel--" "It doesn't matter!"

[a silent moment.]

"Why do you hate Princess Zelda so much?"

"She was weak. All she could do was cower and hide. All she could do was wait while others fought and bled for her mistake."

"She befriended a brave, pure-hearted boy, only to take advantage of his kindness. She stole so much from him. From everyone."

"How can you even look at her? After what she's done?"

"..."

"After I woke up from the Sacred Realm, I met a lot of people who needed help. People who were beaten down and tired, and lost their hope and will. It was all they could do to hang on and get through each day, and some of them didn't make it."

"But not Zelda. She survived for seven years, and not only that, she traveled all across the land, even through all the dangers - all to make sure that her people were protected, and her hero could succeed."

"There would've been no hope in this land if she hadn't worked to keep it alive for seven years. And she kept this idiot hero alive, too."

"I think she's very strong. Even stronger than me. And she deserves to smile, too."

[Smiling - it's something she hasn't tried to do in a long time. Behind the mask, she is worn down, but tries feebly to mount one more defense]

"What about you? You deserve to be rewarded for your efforts and sacrifice, more than anyone."

"Wouldn't you rather go back to a world without turmoil? Wouldn't it ease your mind, knowing that you saved the lives of so many?"

"Yeah, but I'll know there's one person I haven't saved."

"The one person I most wanted to save." "Don't"

"I'll go back if you want me to. I'll do it if that's what you think is best, Zelda. But don't do it because you think hurting yourself is the only right thing to do, okay?"

"I swore, when I met you, that I would protect you, no matter what. Don't make me do something that would hurt you."

[Link takes her hand, and places the ocarina in it.]

"Please, promise me that whatever you choose... you'll do it with a smile."

[Cradling the ocarina, Sheik tries to gather her composure, but she cannot muster a smile. She looks down, defeated]

"...Will you forgive me, if I choose to be selfish?"

"You know what my answer would be. But I think I'm not the one you need to ask that to. Am I right?"

[A vision - Sheik stands looking down at a young Princess Zelda from seven years ago, bloodied and dirtied as if she had just escaped from the castle]

[Slowly, Sheik approaches and stoops to the young girl's level, and reaches out to pull her into an embrace.]

[In the real world, Sheik is wiping at her eyes]

"I'm sorry. Please stay"

[Perhaps, she's saying it to someone else, too. Link holds her, for a long time]

"Look, the sun's coming up."

[still leaning into each other, they look to the brightening horizon]

"This is a lot nicer than last time."

"When I threw a Deku Nut at you and ran away?" "Heh"

[Looking into the light, Sheik reaches up to her mask, and lowers it. She faces the sun for a moment, then looks up to face Link]

"Hi."

"It's good to meet you... at last."

[their faces are so close. She's moved to lean in and kiss him, just a little.]

"Sorry, I..." "Don't be sorry! That was nice. You're... nice."

"Can I kiss you too?" "Link, I..."

"This body... It's a male body." "So?"

"I thought you might not... like..."

"I like you. The real you. Without hiding. Without holding back."

[Blushing but touched, Sheik tucks her hair behind her ear, finally showing her full face.]

"All right, then."

[they do not hold back.]

===

[partially restored castle - Princess Zelda steps out of a political meeting, looking tired. Out of nowhere, Link tugs her around a corner for a kiss]

"L-Link! You can't just--I'm still Zelda!"

"What? Don't worry, no one's gonna see. (Promise)"

"It's not that, I... I thought you just liked... Sheik."

"I told you, I like you. Did you think I wouldn't want to kiss a beautiful princess?

Zel. You're no less kind, or brave, or hardworking, just because you're in a different body."

[she looks down for a moment, emotional, tempted to refuse. But then she looks up, with a smile.]

"Okay."

[She steps into his arms, and kisses him fully for the first time]

===

[Fishing Hole - golden hour. Link is struggling to reel in a fish]

[Zelda's POV - Link turns, and drops his rod in excitement] "Zel! You made it!"

[full shot - Zelda is dressed in a plain, androgynous tunic and leggings, carrying a small picnic basket. Her hair is free and loosely pulled back, without a crown, without a mask.] "And you brought food!! You're the best person in the world."

"Man, I didn't realize I was starving" "You have to take better care of your own needs, Hero." "I don't have to, I've got you~"

"Here, you should have some too--"

"Oh crud - there's no more?" "I'm sorry. Supplies are still low--" ("No I'm the one who should be sorry!!")

"Well, here - I've got something for you too."

[Link pulls out a glass bottle, filled with strawberries. They're a deep, ripe red - the first splash of color in this black & white comic] "I picked them from the Lost Woods. They've just started growing back recently."

[He holds one up to her lips. A little tentatively, Zelda bites into it - and bursts into tears]

"Zel!? You okay?" "Y-Yes, I just..."

"It's been... a long time since I've had anything so sweet."

"You deserve it."

[Wide shot - she has a little emotional fit in his arms. Color is gradually seeping into the comic.]

[But eventually, the berries get finished.]

"Link - there's one more thing. I..."

[Zelda takes out the Ocarina of Time, and places it into his hands.]

"Zel, this..."

[She gives him a genuine smile, fond and peaceful.] "Keep it. I've made my decision."

[She touches her forehead to his, as they share a moment of joy] "It suits you better, anyway."

[Zelda pulls out her harp, and begins playing a tune.]

[Link raises the ocarina, and joins her in a duet.]

[The musical notes drift into the sky, intertwined over a lush, colorful world.]

#wip #zelda #zelink #shink #ocarina of time #my writing #oot my beloved

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vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin · 5 months

Note

Hey, I saw your post on what the skybound comics did to Jetfire and I feel you. The comics already made it clear it wasn't for me when they killed Bumblebee, but I THOUGHT they would keep Jetfire around after that but no! I didn't read it, cause a friend was kind enough to spoil Bee's death for me but NONE of the Decepticons died in that issue after killing Jetfire?!

That is bull. That is literally bull. And I'm hearing people throwing heeps of praises to this comic series and wishing that this becomes a show. I DON'T. Let comics stay comics and let shows be its own thing for Transformers. Marvel has shown how badly one can mess up a good series when they try mixing that mess together! It ruins the characters AND the plot in the worse way imaginable! No one wins! No one! I know there will be people out there saying differently but this era of shows prove that it will be a high chance of it failing compared to the past!

Hello, anonym! I think you're a fan of Bumblebee, so I sympathize with you, it's very sad when your favorite character is killed in the first issue :(

In fact, the comic series is not so bad, it is clear that it was handled by a person with an idea and inspiration, and he brought a lot of interesting moments. But I don't like the fact that two Autobots were killed in the first issue at once, and the Decepticons are doing well. Once again, the Autobots are at the very bottom and must overcome. Yes, this is the way of the «good guys», but there must be some kind of balance! I think this is because the Decepticons have more fans, and they won't like having one of their favorite characters killed. And so, how many fans does Skyfire have? Not so many, and there are more Bumblebee haters now than fans, there are also few voices of indignation. But maybe the authors themselves love the Decepticons a little more, at least Skywarp is definitely the author's favorite character.

It's interesting with Bumblebee in general, because Hasbro's representatives themselves asked to put this character in the background, because there are a lot of him, and, apparently, approved of his killing. This impression is created from the words of the author, who spoke about this request to shift the focus from Bumblebee to someone else, and about the fact that he was asked to change the number of Ark engines for the final version. It means that there is some degree of control there and all this has been approved.

As for the show, I agree, fandom and Hasbro want it, without understanding the consequences. As if the "Rise of the Beasts" was not an example of this strategy being a failure. Let's hope that comics will not be affected by this trend.

Well, right now I'm just foolishly hoping that Skyfire will be fixed somehow, because it's not fair to just kill him.

By the way, here is the author's channel, he sometimes broadcasts and tells interesting things about the process of creating a comic book, I highly recommend watching it.

#Transformers #transformers comics #Image Comics #skybound #skybound transformers #skybound tf #energon universe #answered ask

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bluerose5 · 1 year

Text

Their Perfect Oasis

Prompt fill from discord for Maxwell Trevelyan/Dorian Pavus. Turned out longer than I expected (because of course it did) but hope y'all enjoy! Click the title to read on ao3. 💙

Summary:

All Dorian wanted, at first, was his book back.

The last thing he expected was for Maxwell Trevelyan to spoil him with an afternoon together.

~~~

Maxwell Trevelyan had always been quick on his feet.

There Dorian was one afternoon, minding his own business while he combed through tome after tome in the Inquisition’s library. Their meager collection had few works that he deemed to be of any noteworthy academic merit, let alone worthy of his time to read, but some proved interesting enough to add to his ever-growing pile of books.

What they found during their travels typically turned out to be far more interesting, ancient ruins filled to the brim with anecdotal accounts and mysterious artifacts. While he left most of the elven stuff for Solas to study, there was still so much to review in between his own research.

He was going through all that he had gathered on the connections between rift magic and time magic when his beloved Inquisitor made his appearance.

“There you are,” Maxwell greeted.

Although he tried to put on an air of indifference, Dorian ended up smiling in spite of himself.

“Where I always am around this time of day,” he said, not once looking away from the scroll he had spread out over his pitiful excuse of desk, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that he was all that focused anyways, it being near impossible to pay attention with Maxwell around.

After he pressed a kiss to Dorian’s cheek, Dorian quickly turned to scour through his and Alexius’s old notes, more so to hide his now-flustered expression.

Warmth spread throughout his cheeks at Maxwell’s low chuckle.

“Looking as stunning as always,” Maxwell breathed, his words overflowing with a reverence that made Dorian’s heart skip a beat.

“Was that ever in question?” Dorian countered.

Maxwell pressed himself flush against his side, a hand braced upon the table as he leaned in to brush his lips along the shell of Dorian's ear.

"Never," he replied. Dorian’s fingers froze when he started to shuffle through the pages, but he could hear the smirk in Max's voice, clear as day. "Am I distracting you?"

Dorian shook his head, more so to clear his mind than to answer the question.

"I—No, of course not! I was just—"

"Then, let me try a little harder."

Without warning, Maxwell disappeared from his side.

One second, he was snuggled up to Dorian. Then, the next, he was leaning against the wall near the staircase, a book in hand that he pretended to flip through. He studied Dorian, eyes alight with mischief, but the latter watched him skeptically, arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you doi—" Dorian started to ask, but it was in that exact moment that he processed what book Maxwell held.

It was almost comical, how his head snapped towards the desk, then back towards Maxwell, then to the desk again.

Maxwell pinched one of the book's corners, allowing it to dangle precariously.

Oh, the horror. To have a work so highly disrespected.

Dorrian huffed.

"What?" Maxwell teased, attempting to sound innocent but ultimately failing, way too pleased with himself for his own good. "Need something?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Dorian sighed, "it has come to my attention that I am indeed missing a book."

"You don't say."

"Mm-hmm…" Dorian took a step forward, but Maxwell mirrored him easily enough, one foot positioned on the next step. "A book vital to my research, in fact. One that I would very much like back."

"Ah, and what would you be willing to do for this book, I wonder."

"Name your price."

The next step down was more purposeful, the way Maxwell shifted his weight.

Understanding dawned on Dorian then.

"Maxwell," he warned, pointing a finger in his direction, "I am not chasing after you."

Maxwell simply beamed at him in response. He tucked the book underneath his arm, pressed tightly against his side.

"I'll make it worth your while," he promised.

"I'll make it worth yours if you just— Well, and there he goes," Dorian grumbled.

The madman didn't even hesitate to dart off down the stairs.

"Max!" Dorian called out, forgetting where he was for a second.

Teasing laughter rang out in a slight echo that traveled throughout the tower. A few unimpressed glances were tossed their way, but Dorian ignored them.

Tapping his foot upon the floor, he shook his head in disbelief.

"I am not going to chase him," he told himself. "I am not…"

Down below, he could hear Maxwell say, "Hi, Solas! Bye, Solas!" as he escaped into the throne room. Not that Solas had much time to mumble out an amused greeting of his own, the Inquisitor there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Time was wasting, but Dorian’s curiosity eventually got the better of him.

He paused his mantra, bottom lip poked out into an exaggerated pout.

"Vishante kaffas," he swore, approaching the staircase. "Okay, and now I'm chasing after you."

The things he did for that man.

He followed after him at a brisk walk, not a run!

He had to retain some semblance of dignity after all.

It was bad enough that he had to put up with Solas's knowing stare as he passed through the rotunda, so it seemed that Dorian would suffer even the greatest torments for Maxwell’s sake.

Whatever he had planned better be worth all the effort.

When Varric heard his entrance into the main hall, he didn't even so much as look up from his writings. Instead, he simply jabbed his thumb in the direction of the doors, Dorian smiling sheepishly before continuing on his way.

Once outside, Dorian caught a split-second glimpse of Max on his way towards the stables, but Dorian saw the bait for what it was. He knew all too well that, if Maxwell truly wanted to elude him, then he would have done so by now. Either that, or he would have melted away into the shadows, only to be seen when it was his moment to strike.

Dorian had to admit, part of him actually enjoyed this little game of theirs. He knew it to be playful, all intended in good faith, and he absolutely adored how Max loved to tease him.

It would make "catching him" all the more rewarding.

However, as things turned out, he didn't even have to catch him, not when Maxwell came to him instead.

Rushing down the remaining stairs and through the courtyards, Dorian stopped short when he heard the clomping of a horse’s hooves draw closer.

With a tug on the horses’ reins, Maxwell guided two of the Inquisition’s best mounts to a stop in front of him. Both of them were of sturdy, dependable builds with slick, glossy coats, one brown and the other black.

When they shifted to a halt, Maxwell fed them some apple slices from their packs, then turned to beam at Dorian.

“After you, my dear,” Max said, his hand outstretched to him.

“What?” Dorian asked, eyebrow raised in question. “Are we going for a ride?”

“How observant of you to notice,” Maxwell teased, “but, yes, we are. I have a surprise for you.”

“A gift?” Dorian pressed. “My, my, I do love being spoiled, especially by you.”

“Then, you’ll love this,” he said. His expression gentled, causing a swarm of butterflies to flutter around within Dorian’s chest. “I promise.”

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Dorian coughed quietly under his breath to clear it.

“Right,” he said. He nodded at the closest horse, the one that stood as black as night. “I’ll take this one.”

“A fine horse for a pretty man,” Max praised.

“The prettiest,” Dorian corrected.

Placing his hand into Maxwell’s, he hoisted himself up into the horse’s saddle. Not that he needed the assistance, but he could hardly turn down such an offer from Max. He adjusted his weight around to get comfortable while Maxwell mounted the other horse with ease.

Dorian froze into place when he glanced over, only to become tongue-tied at the very sight of him.

Back in the library, the lighting had been muted enough —and everything had happened so quickly— that Dorian didn’t really get a good look at him before.

Now, it was as if he was seeing him clearly for the first time.

Sunlight washed over him in a wave of gold, each feature emphasized with the attention reserved for the most revered religious icons. Dorian wouldn’t be surprised if they were already carving statues in his honor, devoted to reproducing every last detail to perfection.

Perched upon his horse, Maxwell held himself upright with the utmost confidence.

Warm, sun-kissed skin soaked up the afternoon rays. Brown hair was carefully slicked back, teasing glances beckoning Dorian to follow him to the ends of the world itself. Maxwell inspired a loyalty influenced by a power greater than a siren’s song, a loyalty that might even lead them to their eventual demise, a fate accepted in stride so long as Dorian could remain by his side.

Maxwell circled his horse around him, and Dorian couldn’t help but wonder if the posturing was intentional.

After all, he had certainly cleaned up for—for whatever this was.

Gone were those tasteless rags of his, those drab, brown pajamas hopefully tossed out of his wardrobe for good.

In their place, Maxwell wore a blue shirt, crafted of the finest silk that shimmered lightly through each shift of his chest. The top few buttons were left undone, revealing a golden chain nestled around his throat and hanging down between his pecs. Black, form-fitting pants accentuated the shape of his legs, hugging Maxwell’s hips and thighs. The fabric was tucked into a pair of black, leather boots, designed for both style and comfort.

Dorian had to admit, he was impressed.

All of that, and he didn’t even have to lift a finger to help.

Safe to say, Maxwell took his breath away.

Younger Dorian, who spent his days reading and fantasizing about handsome, heroic princes from far-off lands, positively swooned at the sight before him.

Not that current Dorian was faring much better.

He swallowed thickly as he watched Max, his lips parted in awe.

Maxwell, oblivious to Dorian’s appraisal —or, perhaps, acutely aware of it— flashed him a blinding smile.

"Race you!" he stated.

With a slight flick of the reins and a click of his tongue, the horse sped up into a steady trot towards the drawbridge. People maneuvered around them both, steering clear of their path.

It was hard to ignore all of the stares they were attracting; but, for once, Dorian was inclined to let them look.

He had the most amazing man in Thedas all to himself, and that was all that mattered.

Catching up to him, Dorian feigned an annoyed grumble.

"A rather unfair challenge, don't you think?" Dorian asked. "Considering the fact that you know the way to our destination while I am left in the dark, following on blind faith alone."

Maxwell hummed in contemplation, drinking in the sight of Dorian from head to toe, which was fair. Dorian had certainly gotten his fill of Max. The latter deserved to marvel in the excellence of his resident altus.

And if Dorian happened to sit up a bit straighter under the weight of that appreciative gaze, head held high with pride…

Well, that would remain between the two of them.

Voice warm and low, Maxwell leaned in and told him, "Try to keep up then."

Without warning, he took off into a galloping pace, a hearty laugh left in his wake.

Once again, Dorian was left chasing after him, ringing out with his own laughter in turn.

"Oh, you're delightful!" Dorian called out over the whipping winds, quickly gaining on Maxwell’s position, only a couple of paces behind.

Together, they rode through the mountainside until the blank canvas of white gave way to snow-covered flora. Icicles hung like crystals from bare branches, capturing sunlight, only to cast it out in an array of colors.

Thankfully, Dorian had little time to even think about the cold, let alone fixate upon it.

Eventually, they arrived at the edge of a clearing. Maxwell slowed to a stop, far enough from Skyhold to grant them some privacy yet close enough to be back a moment’s notice, should they be needed.

While Dorian didn't think himself to be much of a praying man, he happily prayed then that they not be needed. Not anytime soon, at least.

After Maxwell jumped down from his horse, he approached Dorian’s side without missing a beat. Offering his hand out again, Dorian gladly took it, allowing Maxwell to help him down to his feet.

They stood there for a second, chest to chest, while all of the world and its problems melted away into the background.

"Well," Maxwell said, "looks like I won the race."

"You don't say," Dorian hummed. Gentle fingers combed through Max's hair, coaxing any strays back into place. "I never would have guessed."

"Mm-hmm…"

They stole glances at each other's lips.

Maxwell tugged him closer by the waist, Dorian’s arms wrapped around his neck.

Their noses brushed ever so slightly.

"Tell me," Dorian whispered. "What prize does the illustrious Inquisitor desire for his well-earned victory?"

By then, their lips were barely a hair’s width away.

"A kiss from a certain someone would suffice, but that must wait, I'm afraid." Their lips had only just grazed against one another when their warmth disappeared entirely. Dorian's breath was stolen from him as Maxwell pulled away, placing a careful distance between them both. "All in due time, handsome."

"Hmph, you're such a tease," Dorian huffed, albeit with no real heat to his voice.

"It'll be worth it," Maxwell reminded him. He even had the audacity to wink at him. "I'll make it up to you later."

"You better."

"I swear. Now, close your eyes."

"Seriously?" Dorian scoffed.

"Please," Maxwell said. "For me?"

Well, when he put it like that…

"Oh, alright, fine!" Dorian closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're lucky you're so cute."

Maxwell only chuckled in response.

Dorian listened closely while he coaxed the horses away with soft murmurs. His footsteps faded off into the distance, but logic told Dorian that it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before he returned.

Didn't stop those few minutes from feeling like an eternity.

Maxwell took him by the hands and led him forward.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready for what, exactly?" Dorian wondered.

"You'll find out. All I ask is that you keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them."

"Not cryptic at all."

Nevertheless, he followed, trusting Maxwell with his life.

Dorian spoke to fill the ensuing silence.

"You know, we should have ridden double," Dorian stated. "Like in the stories! The ones where the protagonist whisks the love interest away on horseback, arms wrapped tightly around them as they ride off into the sunset together."

Max snorted. "But of course. One small problem, though."

"And what is that?"

"As lovely as the idea is, horses can only support so much before you start to risk injury to them or yourself, and I, for one, was not going to be on the receiving end of Master Dennet's anger for hurting one of his precious babies."

"Fair enough," Dorian conceded, sighing dramatically. "Foolish books, giving me unrealistic expectations of romance."

"Heh, hopefully this will make up for it."

Snow crunched beneath their feet until, surprisingly, it stopped.

Before Dorian could question him about it, Maxwell beat him to the punch.

"Just a little farther, and…" Maxwell trailed off. He took Dorian by the shoulders and arranged him into position. Strangely enough, Dorian felt the cold wash away. In its place, a wave of heat enveloped them, but Maxwell hardly sounded shocked by this development. "There!" He released him. "Now, open your eyes."

Dorian didn’t have to be told twice.

He squinted, blinking past the relentless daylight, and eventually managed to pry his eyes open.

What awaited them was unlike anything he had expected.

It was a scene plucked right out of a fairytale.

Without thinking, Dorian placed a hand over his racing heart.

“Wow,” he gasped. “This is amazing.”

Even then, that was the understatement of the century.

The clearing that Maxwell brought him to was secluded; however, more than that, it had the thriving appearance of a meadow in spring. A large, square area was protected from the harsh winter snow. Lush, green grass sprouted all over, sprinkled with patches of colorful wildflowers that danced in the occasional breeze.

In the center of it all, a blanket was spread out. And upon that blanket, there sat a basket, alongside Dorian’s long-forgotten book.

Streams of golden light filtered through the nearby branches, reflecting off of tiny motes that glided through the air.

Their horses were secured to a tree close by, grazing happily amongst the fresh grass.

It was their own little oasis, surrounded by a cold desert.

After another speechless moment to really soak it all in, Dorian was finally able to catch his breath.

“Maxwell.” He turned to him, incredulous. “How did you manage to do all of this?”

He waved his arms grandly at the setting before them, twirling in place.

Pleased with his reaction, Maxwell shrugged, uncharacteristically bashful, as he glanced around.

“I might have asked Dagna for a favor,” he said, nodding at each of the square’s four corners. “The work of runes. They ward off the cold and ‘any critters or creepy crawlies,’ as she explained it. Kind of like a mixture of fire runes for warmth and protective sigils to keep the wildlife at bay.”

“Makes sense,” Dorian breathed, once again impressed with the quality of her work. “Remind me to thank her later.”

“We both will,” Maxwell assured him, then admitted, “I had actually wanted to bring you sooner, but I needed to position the runes just right. Then, after that, it was basically a waiting game for the snow to melt and the mud to dry up.”

So, he had been working on this for a while then.

Dorian smiled at him tenderly.

“Thank you,” he said.

Maxwell chuckled.

“You haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

“You mean, there’s more?”

“Of course.” Taking Dorian’s hand in his, Maxwell bowed slightly at the waist to press a kiss upon the back of it. His lips lingered, eyes trained on Dorian the entire time. “Will you dine with me, Serah Pavus?”

“I’d be honored to.”

Eager to see what else he had in store for him, Dorian all but dragged him over to the blanket. Maxwell, ever the gentleman, helped him get seated before joining him at his side.

Dorian didn’t so much as hesitate before snuggling up to him.

Maxwell tossed him a grin and opened up the basket.

A whiff of warm spices instantly greeted them. Dorian’s mouth watered. His stomach grumbled.

The scent was a familiar one, one that reminded him of home, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up, trying his best to sneak a peek.

“So, what’s on the menu today?” he asked.

“I made us lamb curry,” Maxwell answered, casual as can be.

Dorian choked at that.

“Wait, what?”

“I said that I made—”

“I heard what you said, but you cooked?” Dorian stammered. “For me?”

“Was I not supposed to do that?” Maxwell deadpanned.

“I— No! I mean, it’s just that…” Dorian blew out a frustrated breath, at a loss for words. “Surely, you have more important things to do than wait on me, hand and foot. You must be incredibly busy.”

“Not busy enough to neglect spending time with you. I know you’ve been homesick,” Maxwell stated, his brow furrowed in concern. He reached out and cupped Dorian’s cheek, brushing his thumb along the curve of it. “I know it’s not the same, but I wanted you to feel a little bit at home. Here, with me.”

Dorian melted into his touch, releasing a shaky breath.

“Damn it. You’re going to make me cry at this rate,” he informed him. Already, he could feel a slight sting building at the corner of his eyes. He blinked past the burn of unshed tears. Carefully, he wiped at them before they could fall. “Stop it. I have an image to uphold, you know.”

Maxwell snickered.

“Of course. Here.” He reached into the basket and unearthed a bottle, cradled with the utmost care. “Something to cheer you up.”

Dorian didn’t even have to read the label to know what it was.

“You got us an Antivan Red imported in?” he asked. “Out here? Don’t even get me started on the spices that you had to get for that curry, Inquisitor.”

“Leliana and I might have pulled some strings,” Maxwell said.

“Of course you did.” Dorian playfully glared at him, the bottle hugged close to his chest. “Okay, out with it.”

“Out with what?” Maxwell questioned. He cocked his head to the side.

“What’s the special occasion?” Dorian countered. “My guess is that you’re either going to propose, or you’re going to ask to fool around out here in the middle of the woods, where anyone could happen upon us.”

“The real question is, would you even say yes to either of those options?”

Dorian thought it over, then shrugged.

“Ask me after my third glass.”

Once he opened it, he shamelessly took a swig from the bottle, comfortable enough to ignore decorum when they were all alone.

Maxwell passed him two glasses, which he filled up generously. In the meantime, Max worked on uncovering their dish, still steaming with warmth over a bed of rice.

“Want to try a bite?” he asked.

Scooping up a heaping portion with his fork, he held it out in offering.

As if Dorian would refuse.

“I’d love to.”

The instant Dorian wrapped his lips around the fork, he swore that he transcended to a whole other plane of existence.

Now, usually when he read fiction, the premise of someone moaning over their food was always eye roll-inducing at best.

However, after trying Maxwell’s cooking, he was a changed man.

The richness of the base, the tenderness of the lamb, the warmth of the spices…

All of it came together perfectly.

“Oh,” he purred, “you, my good sir, are a god amongst men.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Maxwell teased.

He took his glass of wine from Dorian and raised it between them.

They stared into each other’s eyes while he made his toast.

“To us,” he whispered.

They clinked their glasses together.

“To us,” Dorian agreed, as they both took a more tentative sip to savor the taste.

The light, fruity notes complimented their dish well. An exquisite pairing that lingered on the palate, but not that he expected anything less from Max.

Once again, Dorian found himself stealing glimpses of Maxwell’s lips.

“You know this will cause people to talk,” he said.

“Compared to usual,” Maxwell replied, his sarcasm deafening, “when they remain absolutely silent about the two of us?”

“You know what I mean.” Dorian snuggled closer, his lips quirked up into a smirk. “You ran off to some secluded location with that dastardly Tevinter magister.” He rolled his eyes at the misuse of the title. “Maker have mercy!” He raised his voice in pitch, mimicking a tone of fright and scandal. “Will our beloved Inquisitor return the same? How are we sure that madman isn’t conducting some sinister ritual in secret, sacrificing the blood of goats and virgins in the name of the Black Divine?”

“Hmm…” Maxwell hummed with a pointed look around the clearing. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think there are any goats around.” He snorted. “Or virgins, I’m afraid.”

“Alas,” Dorian sighed, “I guess that we’ll have to make do without.”

“Cast your magic then. I’d happily fall under your spell.”

“You’re terrible.”

Using his free hand, Dorian curled his finger around Maxwell’s chain, tugging him closer until their lips brushed.

Maxwell swallowed thickly.

“Kiss me,” Dorian whispered. “Please, I—”

Whatever he was going to say, Maxwell cut him off in an instant. Their lips crashed against one another, pleading, desperate. They gasped for breath, only to reclaim the kiss with renewed fervor.

Dorian didn’t know how long they stayed there, lost in the moment and the feel of each other.

Part of him wanted so badly to remain there forever, but all good things must come to an end, or so people said.

Eventually, they parted.

Maxwell rested his forehead against Dorian’s while they struggled to compose themselves.

The words slipped free before Dorian could even process them.

“Are we sure that I’m not dreaming right now?”

“If you are,” Maxwell answered, stealing a swift peck, “then promise not to wake up, because I don’t ever want this dream to end.”

Dorian smiled into the next kiss.

“Neither do I.”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #maxwell trevelyan #male inquisitor #dorian pavus #custom inquisitor #pavelyan #dorian x trevelyan #inquisitor x dorian #bluerose writes

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off-brand-likes · 8 months

Text

Painting to Exhaustion

Coincidentally, I didn't sleep much on the 23rd/24th and was too tired to write this. Then of course having skipped one day, all the rest didn't matter (additional excuses may apply).

But! I will get through all the prompts eventually! Starting with this one!

Staring at the blank wall was not painting. Of course if Ezra asked, Sabine would tell him she was laying out the new design in her head. She'd throw in some Mando'a art terms so he'd make that face like he'd found something new about her and go look them up.

But Ezra wasn't going to ask. Not for a while, anyway. The longer he stayed gone, the longer it seemed like he would take convincing the purrgil to bring him home.

She'd started the first arch before she had any word-thoughts about it. Now she had the shape of it in her head, in her style. It flowed from her to the wall. She felt like she was watching her arm do the work all by itself.

It kept getting too into the details, though. Her usual bright abbreviations and clear simplicity didn't feel like enough for what she wanted this piece to be. It hurt her throat and stung her eyes, how finite and small a little wall art was compared to everything Ezra had done, and everything he still had left to do when he got back.

Something between her wrist and her elbow was getting very tired making narrow grass blades and tiny dots of stars on one side and rays of sunlight on the other. Usually so many fiddly little pieces would feel tedious to the rest of her, too. But she was so tired. Maybe she needed a little repetition.

She needed to put off the last stroke, maybe. Her head didn't ache that much, neither did her wrists and her arms and...

Two heavy knocks startled her, putting a jagged crimp in what should've been a natural curve. Well. Natural things were sometimes jagged too.

She'd apparently taken too long to open her door, because Zeb opened it just enough to stick his head and drooping ears in, with a cloth tied over his nose and mouth so the paint fumes didn't burn him. "'Bine, can I borrow your--"

When she turned around, she expected Zeb to be awed and amazed at the mural, but he was staring at her with some mixture of horror and pity. She wasn't any more paint-covered than... She glanced down. Actually, that was more paint on her than she was used to seeing.

"What?" The question sounded angrier than she meant it to.

"You've been painting, not sleeping, huh." Zeb didn't phrase that as a question.

"Is it morning?" She'd put her helmet in front of her clock.

She twisted around to look at the clock without putting her paint-covered hands on her helmet and staggered as all her muscles protested the change in position. Zeb hooked his arm under her shoulder for balance. "Whoa, easy now. It's afternoon." Zeb looked around her room without giving her mural any more than a glance. "That's all paint water, isn't it? Karabast. You get soup, Hera gets soup, everybody gets soup and you'll like it, too."

"Okay, okay, but will you at least tell me what you think so far?" Sabine gingerly waved her sore arms at the painted wall.

Zeb took a firmer grip on her arm while she looked, like she might fall if he took his eyes off her. She wished she could see his whole expression for a moment, but then his ears drooped more and his big eyes teared up and if Sabine could see his lip trembling without that cloth in the way then she'd start crying again too.

"The, uh." He looked the purrgil over, and Lothal's grassland with Loth cats' ears and tails sticking out of the grass, and she was pretty sure he bared his teeth at Thrawn comically (someday, she hoped) tangled up in purrgil tentacles. But Zeb's gaze kept going back to Ezra standing triumphantly on a purrgil's back, grinning like he knew he was doing something awesome and he knew you knew too.

So obnoxious. She couldn't believe she missed it this much.

"It looks just like him." Zeb's sad and exasperated tone meant she'd gotten Ezra down just the way she saw him in her head.

"Well, yeah." Sabine didn't manage her usual energy and pride, but that's what she usually said, so...

Zeb's ears flapped against his head as he turned it forcefully away from the painting. "Soup time. Come on."

Sabine squinted in the bright lights outside her room. It took her a moment to pick out Hera sitting at the table, and Kallus's short ponytail in the doorway to the tiny galley. Hera gave her such a tired smile that she must've been doing barely necessary maintenance on the Ghost all morning, until Zeb came and got her too. Grease stained her shirt where she touched her belly when she thought nobody was looking.

But none of them had to see each other to know what they were all feeling right now, or to know that wherever Ezra was, he'd spare a thought for them. Sabine knew just where to put the rest of the crew when she got back to the mural, after she convinced Zeb she wouldn't pass out on it.

#star wars #swr #whump #angst #loss #no.24 #working to exhaustion #No effort Whumptober #is currently taking some effort to complete

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nekropsii · 2 years

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[In reference to your second Hostilestuck post] If it were just someone's random creepypasta that'd be perfectly fine and harmless fun but sending graphic descriptions to complete randos honestly speaks to some kind of clear irresponsibility, is the problem. Especially when an argument can be made that the descriptions are more graphic than the images themself, because with that amount of detail your brain is likely to start filling it in more. You can't really make an argument that those descriptions work as any kind of litmus test for the content in question when that's the case (I was substantially more nauseated by the description of what happened to Eridan than I was by any of the revealed panels, which have substantially more warnings surrounding them). It's as easy as giving a vague 1-2 word description of what the content contains and then saying "I can go into more detail if you're interested / you can handle it" because if someone says no to that then they probably won't be interested at all anyways. It feels more like the users being sent these asks are being used as a platform in general and while that's not a new idea for ARGs it is without any warning or consideration as to who it's being sent to. A good ARG isn't something you just shove in peoples' hands, the audience actively pursues it after the lead is out there (whether that's solving puzzles or actively choosing to watch when it posts) and thereby is much more prepared to face the content when they find it because they're already going to be cautious. I don't think it's damned to be bad or anything if the person doing it wises up a little but as it stands you're right there is absolutely problem with its marketing. I do kinda hope it's just some kid and they learn from this. (sorry for such a long ask I was gonna put it in the tags but I didn't want to nuke you from there, you don't have to post/reply to this I just needed to get it out)

Don’t apologize, I genuinely agree with you, and sometimes you can only properly get your thoughts out with a lot of words. If you’ve been here long enough, you’d know that I understand the need for wordiness completely, lol. You guys are gonna be getting new Nekro lore here, because I’m gonna start speaking from experience.

Content Warning: Long.

I definitely agree that the image descriptions are significantly more graphic than… The images themselves. Honestly, when I saw the supposed “Resurfaced Panels,” I was kind of… Disappointed? Like… Really, really disappointed, actually. I thought that, considering how hyped up this was, how the alleged comic itself was described, and how people were calling it “super gory,” it’d be, well… Actually gory. The actual images themselves aren’t that bad at all- the blood isn’t convincing, the trauma isn’t convincing, the images don’t have much of a sense of carnality.

It’s very stiff, very impersonal, and it doesn’t seem to understand itself or what it’s going for very well. It’s just kind of… There. It’s a little amateur- not that there’s anything wrong with that at all, I actually fucking love amateur art, it just kind of shows that whoever is making this doesn’t really “get” what they’re going for, and they don’t know how to actually deliver the same intensity that they’re writing about. At least, not in drawn form. No shame in that- everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and this can arise even in the depiction of the same idea by the same person. Some are simply better at writing out their ideas than drawing them. There’s a reason why some things are Books, some are Comics, some are TV Shows, some are Movies, some are Songs, and some are a Painting Collection.

Sending such graphic, visceral descriptions to random people- people who aren’t even known to be horror fans or gorehounds!- totally unprompted and without any warning is, as you said, wildly irresponsible… At best. It’s genuinely a pretty shitty thing to do. My honest assumption is that this is someone who is either still in their teens, has zero sense of boundaries, or both.

None of these things spell out good things for any potential ARG, and this is me speaking as someone who has literally worked as a writer and team manager for one for an entire existing company!! How are you going to act as a proper GM if you have no boundaries? How are you supposed to maintain the curtain? How are you supposed to cultivate a good, healthy audience if your advertisement consists of shoving very unsavory content into unconsenting people’s faces en masse?! Jesus!! I really do hope that, if this is some kind of ARG pitch, whoever is running the game matures a little and/or backs out. From what I can see of this, this is way out of their scope.

You know how an ARG works well, that’s exactly how it’s supposed to function. Again, consent. I don’t think anything is truly “damned to be bad,” especially with regards to art, but the way the current trajectory looks, this seems like it’s going to spiral, and it’s going to spiral hard. The Players for this (alleged) ARG- the “Sleuths”- definitely seem to also be taking this too far, and those who aren’t in the active Player Base kind of… Really aren’t taking this seriously, because everything about this situation so far has been astronomically ridiculous. It’s going to lose most of its spotlight very quickly, I think- this audience really isn’t built to last.

I’m gonna cautiously keep an eye on this thing. Again, as an ex-GM for a corporate ARG, this absolutely doesn’t look like it’s going to end well. Not to be that pretentious, egotistical asshole who thinks he’s uniquely qualified to read these kinds of situations, but I think I’m uniquely qualified to read this kind of situation. If I’m wrong, then hell fucking yes, I love a good underdog victory… But I don’t think that’ll happen.

This marketing fucking sucks. Everyone behind it needs to go in the Time-Out Corner and remember that people on the internet are, in fact, real people, and that they have boundaries, too. If you cultivate this kind of audience with no sense of boundaries, you’re in for an absolutely fucking hellish time. Trust me, I’ve been there. Hell to pay, if you’re gathering a crowd of that kind of person on purpose, man. Hell to fuckin’ pay.

#sorry if this is rambly I am writing this at #[checks clock]#5 in the morning. so #apologies!#my insomnia meds started kicking in as I typed this.#homestuck #hostilestuck #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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temporalbystander · 1 year

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Okay. I've put it off too long for the people that actually care. After the cut is Cat Walker's POV.

Oh and FYI, there is one other story I regretted not writing. Where Faybon goes off at Marc and Nathaniel over their comic. It was in response to a story I can't remember the name of where they killed off Chat Noir in the comic and seriously upset Marinette. Needless to say, as I was still in my salt mood, it pissed me right off.

Anyway, on to the story.

Adrien had no idea why he was doing this. He'd told Ladybug he would give the ring back to Chat Noir after dropping the latest Akuma victim off at his home, it was nice to know she wanted him back but he couldn't help but think how much tonight had proved his point. Cat Walker had only been a distraction and Ladybug had been more than capable of taking care of everything, even without the rest of the team. Maybe that's why he had ended up coming this way.

"Hello? Cat Walker? You still there?"

Adrien shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts. Right, Faybon had asked what Plagg had said. Clearing his throat and composing himself, he began to speak as politely as he could. "He mentioned how you were often a great source of comfort to Chat Noir when it came to his hero duties and his civilian life. I was hoping you might deign to give me your opinion before I hand back the ring." There, that sounded good right? It was the truth after all.

Then Faybon scoffed and Cat Walker had to readjust his form to hide his shock and hurt. He needn't have bothered though, Faybon had yet to open his eyes. "Yeah I'm a great source of comfort alright." He muttered, disdain clear in his voice. "That's why he saw fit to renounce the miraculous in the first place without so much as a warning. Only for you to get it, Mr. Perfect."

Now Adrien was getting very uncomfortable, he was beginning to realise how bad an idea this actually was. Still, he had to stick to the script in case Ladybug asked any questions. "All I know is that I was the other choice, besides I'd hardly call myself perfect, all I did was get in the way." He gave a small shrug only to be completely ignored as the other boy still hadn't opened his eyes.

Just when he was considering leaving Faybon spoke up again. "So, what did you want my opinion on? For Plagg to recommend talking to me it must be something big." Still no eye contact, he'd have to come back as Chat Noir and apologise if he'd upset him this much.

"I was wondering what you thought about the increase in heroes and Chat Noir's place in it all." He started slowly trying his best to word this as vaguely as possible. "Seeing as I completely failed in the task tonight it's quite obvious that it's more than just the miraculous that's important." Another scoff was the reply.

"Man I was right to hate you." Faybon said with a shake of his head. He opened his eyes briefly to shoot a glare Adrien's way before closing them and settling back down onto the tiles. "If you really thought that it was just the miraculous that was important then you clearly don't think too much of Ladybug." Before he could argue Faybon spoke over him. "After all, the only reason she still holds the earrings is because she has the experience with them. If Chat Noir had given his ring up earlier? She'd have given the earrings up as well."

Not knowing what to say to that Cat Walker sat down, being sure to give Faybon more than enough room. "I can see how you might get that impression." He started after a while. "And the other heroes?" Maybe it was best to move on from the topic for now.

"Are both a necessity and a hindrance." That was not the response he was expecting. "Do you know who any of them are in their civilian life?" Faybon asked instead.

Adrien froze, now very thankful that his friend has barely looked at him, sure he knew some of them from the Miracle Queen incident but he couldn't tell Faybon that. "Of course not. I only just got Plagg today." He said instead, hoping his shock would be interpreted as a result of the question and not because of the lie.

"ShadowMoth does." Faybon carried on, again not paying much attention to what Car Walker was saying. "Yet Ladybug keeps giving them back despite how big a risk it is." He opened his eyes again and turned the glare back on the "replacement" black cat. "Do you know why she does it? Why, despite having been involved in 90% of the akumas that required a new hero, I was never chosen?"

Adrien could only shake his head in response, was this why Faybon was upset? Because he'd never been given a miraculous? Or was it because he thought he was the next best choice for Plagg? He did have more experience with the baton then anyone else besides Cat Noir himself. It made sense. "I only just became a holder, I don't know how things work." Truthfully he wasn't sure he knew how ladybug worked recently either.

"Because it's easier that way." Came the stiff response from his friend, who still hadn't opened his eyes. "Being the guardian, looking after the kwamis, figuring out the grimoire, plus an even greater reason to recover the peacock and butterfly Miraculous? Her stress is through the roof. Then you have the duties as Ladybug and having to keep it a secret while dealing with her civilian problems." Faybon shook his head and let out a weary sigh. "She gives them back the Miraculous because it's easier than trying to find new holders, wait for them to figure out their powers and hope they'll give them back without a fuss." Opening his eyes he glared at Cat Walker again. "And then you had to go and make it ten times worse by putting on that stupid mask."

He couldn't argue with that point, he had seen how put off Ladybug had been simply by his being there, desperately trying to include him so he wouldn't leave like Chat Noir did. "And what about you?" He decided to ask instead. Faybon hadn't mentioned the reasoning behind him not getting a miraculous.

This time the other teen actually laughed, though it was lacking most of the humour Adrien had associated with his friend. "Because I'm yet another source of stress she needs to deal with." He muttered derisively. "If she spent any more time around me than she already does she's scared I'll figure out her identity." Faybon gave another sad sounding chuckle. "I offered her the chance to avoid that, to not talk to me at all, but with what I know already and my emotional state being what it is, she keeps stopping by from time to time to make sure I'm not considering an akumatisation as the answer to my problems."

This was something Adrien had never heard before, from Faybon or his lady. Even outside the mask the other boy had never even hinted that something was bothering him. Definitely not to the point where Ladybug felt the need to check up on him. Was he really that bad a friend to miss something like this? Unfortunately, Cat Walker had no reason to say what he wanted to, so he could only backtrack on their conversation. "Well, you have my word that I'll never wear this mask again. Chat Noir will return to being the only holder from now on."

"Then why not take it off now?" The question stunned him. Sure Faybon had been around when he'd detransformed before, he'd wanted to talk to Plagg and had gone out of his way to make sure he couldn't see anything when Chat Noir had said the phrase, but this was beyond that. He was asking him to reveal his identity, to ensure that he never wore the miraculous again. If he did that then surely Faybon would get suspicious when he ran out during akumas?

And yet... If he did it, maybe his friend would feel better about opening up to him? Knowing that they shared at least some secrets in regards to the Miraculous. Before he could second guess himself, he said it. "Claws in." Just like that he was sitting on the hard tiles exposed to the cold night air as the magic washed over him.

"You kid, are an idiot." Plagg wasted no time in telling him what he thought of this stunt but Adrien only wanted to know what Faybon's reaction was. Turning to look at the one who had asked him to remove the mask he was shocked to see that his friend hadn't opened his eyes at all. Instead he'd just pulled his regular snack box out of his pocket and set it down between the two of them, nudging it closer towards Adrien when he didn't do anything.

Feeling even more confused now, the exposed super hero picked up the box and slowly opened it. Inside was some cheese for the gluttonous kwami and a cupcake, presumably for himself. "Faybon?" Adrien spoke the name softly into the night air as he picked up the treat, Plagg had wasted no time diving for the cheese.

What was going on here? Did he already know his identity? Adrien couldn't recall ever telling Faybon about wanting cupcakes before, in fact the only time he'd ever mentioned the treat was on one of their previous rooftop talks but that would mean... "I already have one friend who is forced to put on a mask of perfection in his day to day life." The other teen seemed to confirm his thoughts as he spoke. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't know when another did the same thing?"

There really was no point arguing. At least now he knew why Faybon wanted the mask off so badly, and why he still refused to look. "How'd you know?" Adrien asked as he bit into the gift he'd been given, strawberry wasn't his first choice but it's not like he'd ever mentioned his favourite flavour before. He also didn't feel the need to worry about his friend recognising his voice, after all it had never been an issue before.

"I've spoken to the previous guardian remember?" Was the clever teen's answer. "And, while it may have been briefer than the time I've spoken to Plagg, both conversations were enough to tell me one simple thing." Pausing, Faybon seemed to wait for either Adrien or Plagg to say something, or maybe just finish eating. When nothing happened he continued. "You are the only holder either of those two would have ever picked." He gave a shrug and almost seemed to relax a bit. "Besides, your costume and manner may be different, but you still showed way to much experience using the miraculous. Not to mention you bow the same way."

"I see." He wasn't sure what to say in response to that. He knew Faybon was observant but this had the potential to be worrisome. At least it was only the familiarity with the Miraculous that clued him in, the young model would just have to ensure he never bowed in front of his friend and he should be fine. It was a good thing he'd made those actions over the top on purpose. That did lead to some uncomfortable realisations though. "Do you really hate me?" He asked after a moment, feeling thankful that his kwami had disappeared to eat his cheese in peace.

Faybon just let out another sigh. "After you left the ring behind LB came to me, desperate for me to get the ring back to you." Adrien felt like a dagger was plunged into his heart at the pain in Faybon's voice as the other recalled what happened. "I told her that this must have wanted nothing to do with the Miraculous anymore." Faybon took another deep breath and kept talking. "I couldn't tell her how being Chat Noir meant everything to you, that it was your favourite thing, the freedom, the responsibility, her." He shook his head and kept going. "She was so close to breaking already, if I'd told her that one overstressed moment from her had caused you to abandon something you loved so much? ShadowMoth would have won."

Adrien thought he couldn't feel any worse, but his friend wasn't done yet. "Then you show up as Cat Walker, all prim and proper, trying to be everything LB seemingly wanted in a partner. Trying to be Mr Perfect, shutting down all your feelings just so you could be near her." The anger was returning to Faybon's voice and it was clearly a struggle for him to keep his voice low. "Tell me Chaton. What the hell is the point of having so many masks if you can't be yourself under any of them?"

Despite it being a question Adrien knew he shouldn't answer. Faybon was right, being Chat Noir was the only way he could relax sometimes. He had so many masks, so many secrets, so many facets of his life he kept compartmentalized so that he wasn't overwhelmed. He had to follow a strict routine at home and while modelling, with his friends he had to be careful that nothing negative got back to his father, and even when he was Chat casually he couldn't relax lest he let something slip that Shadow Moth could use against him. Cat Walker was just another mask he had to wear, this one for the benefit of Plagg and Ladybug. "Plagg claws on."

There was a brief cry of dismay as the kwami was pulled into the ring and the transformation took place. Only once the magic had faded did Faybon open his eyes to see that it was Chat Noir there and not Cat Walker. If he approved of the change he didn't say anything. Chat left shortly afterwards, the conversation stalled and awkward after it had hit a little too close to both of them. Adrien may have gone there to figure out where he stood with Ladybug, which was answered by what Faybon revealed, but he had learned one other thing as well. He wasn't the only one with multiple masks, he just had to hope that at least one of them allowed his friend to feel as free as being Chat Noir did.

#mlb fanfic #my writing #cat walker #ml oc #miraculous oc #faybon Tules

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chaostheatre · 9 months

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Btw, I think this is one of the nicest features about the book compared to the movie: the circumstances under which Ramona leaves Scott and Gideon's reaction to them.

*deep sigh* For me, the biggest failing of the film is the absence of The Glow phenomenon itself and the explanation of how it works. This is a very important thing, and it was worth the time, because without The Glow, the whole picture does not add up. It’s not clear where this subspace comes from, why Ramona suddenly uses it, and also it’s not clear why she decides to leave Scott, which makes the creators invent these stupid chips and magic rings (honestly, it would be better if they just said that Gideon was too fucking hot, not that anyone really needs a chip in their head to dump Scott Pilgrim). And what do we get? The problem is not only that the heroine reveals herself much worse — okay, short timing, understandable, but I simply don't believe that Gideon, having got Ramona, would go to fuck her. In the book, he wanted to put her into cryogenic sleep, like the rest of his women. He wanted to possess her, but not sexually, he wanted her to belong to him, because I think it was unbearable for Gideon to understand that Ramona was with someone else, but it was also unbearable and unsettling to be with her because of the amount of sincere love and affection that she gave to him (I already spoke about this more detailed in my reasoning about counter-dependence). We could have a strong sex scene within the circumstances set by the movie in this case: It seemed to Gideon that possessing Ramona sexually is exactly what would relieve his suffering, but at some point, he turned her back to him, caught the chip with a glance, and was pierced by such a sharp sense of self-disgust that abruptly stopped and went out of the room without a word, leaving an uncomprehending Ramona to sit absolutely naked in solitude. But this is not that kind of movie. Still, I don't see any reason why Ramona couldn't disappear after the fight with Roxy, just like she disappeared in the comic, and then reappear after Scott was killed (again, just like in the comic...). It would make a lot more sense, and even without The Glow, we have a conflict in the bar that could be amplified to be a replacement for the conflicts around The Glow, leading to the same outcome — the disappearance of Ramona.

Anyway, I hope you get well soon!! Like... in all meanings.

no yeah you're totally right, it's great how the topic of subspace is brought up one time in the movie, actually shown like twice, and then never included again. everything to do with it is more for the aesthetic than for the writing (like most things about the film, which is why I dislike it) and the subspace sequences make basically no sense without the context from the book

oh yeah and gideon's hold over her is barely understandable even with the chip cop-out. gideon as a character is kind of poorly handled and cartoonishly evil and comes off as a little... um, he's smug, but he's definitely not as smart or cunning or brutal as the book version. he's almost a comical villain in nature, like james woods' hades. he's presented as far more extroverted and thus a funnier, goofier, and arguably FAR more likable version of the character than the quiet, angry, cold, smart book gideon who invented the glow. outside of the random woman beater scene which todd also got cause... I dunno evil guy hit woman? they should've made them both kick puppies, wasn't on-the-nose enough! sigh

#analysis

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stopthatnel · 2 years

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numerals ➪ ghosts

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

a/n: some dark shit in the chapter pls read at your own discretion. this is so late i’m so sorry lmaoo but on the bright side i’m halfway through chap 5… so tell me, how are we feeling so far?

s: two brave men move into the infamous haunted house that no one seems to want to get near. it’s only brave since no one knows they’re sorcerers.

yuuji’s willingness to talk to you came as no surprise, but falling asleep during the middle of your sentence came even more so. it could have been comical, had you not been infuriated at the audacity. one might’ve called it a sense of entitlement, who were you to disagree? you sat on the edge of his bed gritting your teeth together in silence. you wanted to laugh, you really did, but it sat in the back of your tongue like glue. the room felt stuffy and as the soft exhales of the man echoed into your ears, you’re standing up and heading for the door. you grabbed the handle tightly, the warm metal feeling torturous against your cool skin. it was merely a reminder of the fact that here you are, leaving without answers.

you weren’t exactly sure what to expect, was yuuji just supposed to tell you everything about you? it’s not like most people lived long enough to get here. you crack a dry smile at the thought, you had somewhat succeeded in one thing at the very least. if anything, yuuji had all the more reason to trust you. not entirely, you speculate, but enough to doubt whatever megumi thought of you more. and while an exorcism sounded oh so much fun, answers sounded a bit more fulfilling. you could’ve been fueled with delusions at this point, but what meaning could that have held? you’ve been dead for a year and during that year, it wasn’t until now did you get an explicit confirmation on your existence. if that wasn’t delusional, who’s to say your beliefs were? you twist the doorknob gently, turn off the light, and look over your shoulder to catch one last glance at the man.

yuuji’s staring at you intently, almost as if he was never asleep in the first place. you halt your movements, feeling a sudden breeze against you. your eyes flicker towards the window, you’re sure it was closed before you got up. his eyes shone underneath the moonlight cast through the window, glowing red. the atmosphere had shifted greatly, from cautious words and dubious pauses to a clear imbalance. the hairs on the back your neck stood sharply in fear, your breath hitching. something was off, you couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but yuuji… wasn’t yuuji. who ever was staring at you in this moment couldn’t have been him, but to be safe,

“hah… sorry yuuji. i thought you fell asleep.” yuuji blinks slowly, shifting his body to stand upright and hanging his head between his shoulders. allowing you a peak at his side profile, you stumble backwards and gasp. a mouth had formed on yuuji’s cheek, underneath his eyes.

“he did. i hope you don’t mind if we talk instead?”

your eyes widen in shock, you could feel your heart rattling in the confines of your ribs, so loud that it made you dizzy. the lips on yuuji’s face curled into a mischievous smirk, “what? surprised?” it asks. your mouth had gone dry, what the fuck is going on? darting your pupils around, you’re figuring out an escape pla- no. all you have to do is dematerialize and leave. its that simple, you’re convincing yourself. “who… what are you?” you ask shakily. a snarky laugh filled the air, one of those laughs that felt belittling, even demeaning when you’re the right distance from its host. yuuji closes his eyes and throws his head back, chest rumbling with laughter as black marks began to bleed into his skin. he snaps his head towards you, four eyes and sharp teeth bared for you to see.

“i’m you, but better.” he says, matter of factly. your breathing was still labored, and seeing your lack of response, it continued. “the difference between me and you is that you’ve been hiding, willingly.” you furrow your brows, what the hell is he talking about? “you know, i’d even say you’re still pretty popular. isn’t that right, roman?” your heart stopped at the name, jaw clenched. you narrow your eyes and bravely step forward.

“and who are you to say that name, so fondly?” you sneer. something had been laying dormant inside of you until that name was said, and the trigger had been pulled. the smile on yuuji’s face widened at your reaction, leaning forward almost giddly. “i’m offended, you have to ask, roman.” you’re pursuing your lips in annoyance, having him assume a name bestowed on you by those who had no other means irritated you. despite all your instincts to stay as far away from him as possible, you begin stepping carefully towards him, “but i am. so answer.” yuuji’s (or his body at least) face became stoic at your demand, “ryomen sukuna, peasant.” he spits.

“never heard of you, my name is (y/n) (l/n).” you’re snapping back. was yuuji possessed? you’re asking yourself. it’s not unorthodox to think, you’re literally a ghost. it seemed as the only reasonable answer to the questions of this new demeanor, the atmosphere change and more specifically him saying he’s not yuuji. ryomen sukuna… it sounded familiar, but nothing specific tugged in your mind. “let’s skip the formalities, sukuna. what do you want?” sukuna returned the skeptical eyes you bore into his, sucking his teeth in disapproval. he was the ryomen sukuna, king of curses. and yet you dare stand in front of him, speaking to him as though he was just another being?

“you want answers. i have them.”

“and what’s the catch?” a sly smile found its way on sukuna’s lips, as if he was delighted you’d ask. “why would there be a catch?” he retorts. “because if we’re anything alike, it means we’re both dead. if you’re better than me, it means you have more powers than me.” sukuna’s brow cocked upwards of your outrageous words, “dead? sweetheart, we’re curses. wouldn’t be much fun if we were just dead, huh?” your eyes widen, “curses?”

“yes, curses. you’d think someone who was the rom-”

“my name is (y/n)-” within an instant, sukuna’s body is towering over you, fingers dancing millimeters away from your neck. you swallow thickly as he catches your eyes in a glare of daggers, clearly angered by your persistence. “nice try. maybe a better lie next time? you might’ve fooled those two brats, but i know you’re nothing short of a liar. if you’re just (y/n), how come you’re the only one of the last family that’s not branded? perhaps you were the first?” your throat swells up as you try to respond, how does he know all this? you’re cowering backwards, straight into the door. you felt trapped underneath him, as if he was daring you,

“leave now, and you’ll never know roman.” he smiles toothily, as if he had read your mind. you close your eyes as unfamiliar memories began to to flash through your head.

you’re loading the gun with precisely two bullets as you walk over the the crackling fireplace. one for each soul left in this house, including yours. your job was done, your name had given fear. you had righted the wrong of others, selfishly. the police were too hot on your tail, and you needed to stump them. they couldn’t catch you, the meaning of life was to die happily, and you made peace with the only option you’d given yourself.

“(y/n)- please! what have any of us done to you?” her voice sobs. you remain silent as you set the gun down, replacing your hold with the metal rod that burned bright red even through the flames. her cries ran through one ear and through the other, as you dragged your feet towards her. her blond hair was knotted, her face pale and flushed, mascara running streaks under her eyes. a dark bruise took its shape on her neck, a firm reminder of how it all got down to this. “please- i’m your best friend- i’ve been good to you! i swear-”

“tell me, doll. what defines good and bad?” you muse at your your friend, your dearest little friend. your most loyal friend, the one who understood why you did what you did until you did it to her. the friend that kept quiet when she saw your blood stained clothes in the hamper that you uncharacteristically had left open. the friend that stared at you in silence after seeing the freshly dug up dirt from the backyard, only offering you a shower and some tea. she’s been good to you, better than any person you’ve ever sunken your claws into.

“do good people harbor a murderer, nanako?” you question, rhetorically. her eyes widen as you lift the branding iron up to your waist, trailing your line of gaze to her chest. “do good people let others kill? if you really believed in me,” you shove the rod onto her flush skin, holding your hand firm as she thrashed and screamed under her confinements. your eyes glaze over at the scent of her burning flesh, marking her as one of yours, the last one. you pull the metal away from her chest, watching as she heaved desperately. “you wouldn’t have sheltered me from being caught.” you continue.

her whimpers fell on silent ears as you retrieve the gun, pressing it flush against her forehead. “because those who truly do good,” you wrap your finger around the trigger, staring into her wide pleading eyes. “have no need to run.”

click.

you shake your head, that’s not what happened! you remembering shooting them all, and laying next to them-

“i hate you! you were supposed to protect us, like we protected you! you aren’t good, you’re a fake! you killed us all in the name of peace but it was just your peace you were after. we all fucking hate you, i hope you die a slow, grusesome deat-”

boom.

you’re holding your breath by now, was that really how it happened?

“what do you propose?” you ask, not forgetful of the exchange. not a lot was making sense, which all the more fueled your need for answers. he steps back and observes you, he knew you’d come around. curiosity really does have its way with cats.

“keep him,” he points to himself, “alive. and i’ll tell you all you need to know.” you furrow your brows in confusion, how were you supposed to protect yuuji if you couldn’t leave the house? on beat with your thinking sukuna chuckles, “that boy? he’s a real pain in my ass.” waving towards the door, to who you could only assume was towards megumi. “he put up a ward to keep you in. get on my brats good side, and maybe he’ll convince him to take it down. or, you can get lucky. the wards aren’t up all the time.”

“wards?”

“yes. they can cast these barriers that can keep certain things and entities in, or out. but it’ll require a lot of energy, so it’s not a constant thing that can be done.”

“what do you get out of this?”

sukuna rolls his eyes at your question.

“i’m not asking why you’re hiding in this house instead of living like the other powerful curses. but, i’m offering you knowledge and with that, you can hit two birds with one stone. do we have a deal?”

you lick your dried lips in contemplation. you had no idea what his true intentions were, but if you were anything like him, then you wanted to know what you could do. if megumi had put up the wards, and yuuji and sukuna could freely walk in and out, it just meant that they knew. the day where he had stood outside with yuuji was just to prove to him that he’s right. he’d been cautious of you since day one, perhaps knowing more about you than you knew about yourself. the thought made you feel angered, being inferior to the likes of anyone for that matter would’ve done the trick. but being faced with someone who taunted you with knowledge created an itch that needed to be scratched. and like a starved fish, you took the bait.

#jjk megumi #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk yuuji #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi

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tarydarrington · 3 years

Text

This is the third time this week.

The Archmage of Civil Influence sits slumped over her pristine, deep red desk with her head in her hands. She can handle Ludinus. The man gives her a long enough leash, so long as she gets the right things done with it. She can even handle Professor Widogast, absurd as his new name might be, tiring as his constant pushing of the line between acceptable lesson plans and light treason might be. No, it’s not him. It’s his friend.

“Hi, Astrid!”

She presses her fingertips into her temples. Twenty-five words feels like more than one might think. Twenty-five and then twenty-five more and twenty-five more and on towards infinity feels like an eternity. Occasionally, for a while after Ikithon’s trial, she had received a friendly hello from Ms. Lavorre. That had been irritating enough. But from what she understands, the tiefling and two others are now at sea dealing with their own issues.

Veth Brenatto, on the other hand, seems to have absolutely nothing else for which to use her spells.

“How ya doing? Just checking in about that little get-together we talked about.”

Talked about is a generously mutual way to put it. There is an event planned for the end of the week at the dance hall she and Bren used to frequent. Brenatto is of the persistent opinion that she ought to attend with Professor Widogast. As his date.

Ridiculous, as she had snapped to Eadwulf last night, because if anything he would be her date - but that is beside the point.

“I know Caleb is waiting to hear a ‘yes,’” the voice in her head continues in its usual overly chipper tone.

Astrid does not believe for a second that “Caleb” is doing anything of the sort. They pass one another in the halls of the Soltryce occasionally, and their interactions are always a coin-flip between professional and very awkward. The only other time they see one another at all is when he’s dragged into her office for going on one of his famous little tangents in class, and he hardly seems interested in her authority, let alone her companionship.

“Good afternoon, Frau Brenatto,” she says smoothly, thankful that the woman can’t see her face. “As I have previously informed you, I would be happy to discuss this with Bren himself. Do have a pleasant day.”

She hopes it sounds sufficiently final, but allows herself a sigh as the halfling’s voice filters back into her mind a moment later.

“Caleb is very shy,” she says. “I think you intimidate him - which is silly, because he’s extremely powerful - but if you could just give me your answer--”

Astrid cups her face in her hands, fingers splayed. Only three more days until the dance has come and gone, and then she won’t have to deal with this anymore. Until the next time, of course. Or until Brenatto comes up with some other pretense to push them at each other.

“As I have said,” she says pointedly, “I would like to be sure that this invitation is coming from Bren. If he wishes to speak-” and he will not- “then we may.”

The next message is almost immediate this time, and Astrid resists the urge to bang her forehead onto the desk.

“Why don’t we go visit him together?” Brenatto asks with renewed enthusiasm. “Have some lunch, talk a little… I can leave you alone, if you two lovebirds are getting--”

Never before has she been so grateful for the limits of a Sending spell. She clears her throat, eyes falling on the stack of paperwork waiting in front of her. There is actual work to be done. Actual important work that does not involve a halfling jabbering in her head all afternoon. And, well, if confronting Bren directly about this nuisance could put an end to it?

“Very well,” she says on a sigh. “When shall we meet?”

Astrid wants to groan out loud at the ecstatic tone of the next message. They plan to meet tomorrow evening. Brenatto is already in town, for some reason Astrid doesn’t bother remembering, and they’ll arrive together at Bren’s little residence on the outskirts of the capital at sunset. Ostensibly, Veth will treat them all to a meal at Bren’s favorite establishment - but Astrid suspects things won’t get that far.

At least she can finish her paperwork, now.

She buries her face in Eadwulf’s shoulder that night and groans, “Why does she never do this with you?”

The following evening, she finds Veth Brenatto on the road outside Bren’s place, waving on her tiptoes with a wide grin splitting her face. Astrid gives her a tight, mirthless smile in return. Better to get this over with.

“I’m so happy that the two of you are getting some proper time to get to know each other again,” Brenatto says as they approach the door together.

Astrid will ignore the suggestive tilt of her eyebrows.

Bren’s place is smaller than those of most of the Academy’s faculty. He is one of the only professors who has chosen to live outside of the city center, opting instead for a little-travelled section of Rexxentrum to the northeast. The house itself is small and nondescript; she would never have picked it out, if she didn’t already know it was here. Astrid wonders sometimes about the secrecy, but she will let him have his privacy. She owes him that much, at least.

She shakes herself from her thoughts just in time to notice Brenatto reaching for the doorknob, but not soon enough to stop her from opening without a single knock. By the time she’s reached out to stop her, the door is already wide open.

And oh, this is rich.

“Caleb! I brought--” And then Veth sees them, too.

The man in question - Caleb or Bren or the physical manifestation of regret, whichever he pleases just now - has just fallen off the couch. Brought tumbling down with him is the drow with whom he’s intimately tangled up, face twisted into such a comical mix of shock and mortification that Astrid actually cracks a smile.

“Ah,” Bren says, pulling a blanket from the sofa to wrap around his partner’s shoulders, “Hallo, ja, come right in.”

The drow, for his part, has already waved a hand and magicked them both some clothing. Brenatto, for hers, has begun sputtering incoherently - which, after the week of endless pestering Astrid has had, sounds about like music. Astrid gives her a smug look, and gestures with one hand towards the two men hastily righting themselves.

“I believe this settles the matter,” she says coolly. “Thank you for the invitation.”

She gives Bren a knowing look, and he gives her a tired nod back. She doesn’t envy him the interrogation he’s about to endure. With a parting glance at the drow, who has retreated toward another room with his real clothing clutched just a bit too tightly in his hands, she turns on her heel and steps back out into the dusk.

That explains the secrecy, then. She hopes he’s good for Bren, whoever he is. He deserves something good.

Just as the teleport whisks her away, she hears Veth Brenatto screech, “Him?!”

#this has been kicking around in my head ever since the week of the finale #very silly but hey #shadowgast #astrid beck #veth brenatto #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #mine #mine:fic #also i feel like i should say: yes i am aware astrid and essek were in the blooming grove together for a While #but astrid was pretty preoccupied so i'm playing with this anyway #astrid #veth #caleb #essek

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relaxxattack · 3 years

Note

hi im asking u this bc u seem to be bee duo enthusiast so

ive been calling c! beeduos relationship platonic because i thought that was what their cc’s said, and i thought they had said that they were uncomfortable with ppl shipping the characters. But ive seen a lot of posts that say their relationship is canonically romantic? and i absolutely do not want to come across as homophobic by watering down a mlm relationship to just friends because that happens so much in media so.

what is the canon state of their relationship / ur opinions on the platonic thibg

dont worry abt answering if u dont want to!! i see a lot of differing opinions and i trust yours :)

aw it’s totally fine, im flattered you asked me about this!

let me put it simply: it’s a whole mess, lol.

first im going to talk about what’s happened fandom-wide that caused differing opinions, and then i’ll explain my own opinion/interpretation. :]

(this got really fucking long im so sorry)

ranboo and tubbo initially proclaimed the relationship was romantic, specifically in argument with the wiki editors who had set it as platonic by default. (you can see this in the vod where they decide they’re canonically married— it’s very funny. chat tells them the marriage is already on the wiki, they check, tubbo is jokingly offended that it says platonic and asks if he needs to up the romance).

tubbo also makes jokes about adultry, which sort of implies the relationship is not necessarily a platonic one.

(theres definetly more in that stream alone but it’s been a long time since i watched it so i don’t remember a lot of it.)

the wiki, because of this, suffers from going back and forth on platonic and romantic, seemingly unsure where the joke ends and the canon begins, or if its canonically a joke! a mess, as you can already tell.

this gets more complicated as the marriage bit goes on: outsiders, such as phil and scott, both at one point say “platonic marriage”, which then ranboo and tubbo agree with. however, when chat asks them if they’re platonic, they say the opposite. so there is a lot of confusion there.

there’s also the difficulty of being able to tell streamers and characters apart. ranboo and tubbo both don’t like being shipped irl, and that’s their boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. (they’re also minors, but tbh when they’re 18 in a year i will still be following their boundaries regardless of their legal age).

due to people not wanting to be accused of minor shipping, they started adding the platonic tone indicator to most of their drawings— basically a way of saying “no homo”. meanwhile, tubbo frequently on stream flirts with ranboo and makes quite a bit of nsfw comments towards him that are frankly hilarious.

this goes on for a while with nobody really sure what’s canon, but a lot of people assuming it’s probably platonic, until: the drama of the mods night. a few mods dmed all the wiki editors telling them ranboo wanted his canon character relationship officially set to platonic.

unfortunately for those mods; the very same day, a few hours later, ranboo on stream makes fun of puffy delivering him and tubbo “friendship flowers”. because, and i quote, “bruh. we’re literally married. this must be how the ancient greeks felt.”

in case you don’t know, the internet often jokes about how historians will call ancient greeks ‘very good friends’ when they are quite obviously gay. so in this context, ranboo is joking that people will call him and c!tubbo, who are married, “close friends”, when he doesn’t think they are.

basically, ranboo canonized romantic bee duo, the very same day the mods told everyone he’d wanted a platonic one.

chaos and drama immediately erupted everywhere. on tumblr, we were talking about how weird it was of his mods to do something like that without asking him first. we ALSO talked about how weird it was of them to assume that ranboo can’t make his own decisions, or assume teenagers cannot be in relationships without it being sexual. twitter did the same thing but in the opposite direction: called ranboo mods homophobic, or said they were mad ranboo felt pressured into making a romantic relationship canon ‘just so people could have mlm rep.’

i dont want to go into detail about the drama that happened that night because apparently official people follow me and i dont want to stir it up or have them come “clarify” things. im just saying what we talked about.

ranboo in typical ranboo fashion apologized quickly and seriously. he was deeply sorry for possibly offending anyone with how he’d portrayed his rp relationship with tubbo, and he also assured everyone the mod thing was just a miscommunication.

he said he would talk to tubbo and they’d decide once and for all whether it was platonic or romantic, and then announce so everyone would know.

it’s now been a few months and we've had no word from them on that development. we still have no clue.

now, here’s my opinion:

i want to take ranboos word for it that it was a miscommunication with his mods, but... we had it on good authority from people on the wiki team and people in the discord with the mods that (while it was happening) they were really going after the wiki admins, and also made some weird comments about it. that combined with the way ranboo seemingly had no clue (considering he canonized their romance that very same day).... it’s very. sus of the mods.

then there’s the canon we’ve got since then. although occasionally adults in the room have called it a “platonic marriage” and tubbo once (back when it first started) called it a “plankton tectonic” marriage, in roleplay it’s been... kind of not that. tubbo and ranboo make nsfw jokes about each other in character, and their characters also share a master bedroom and bed in the mansion. there's also the way c!tommy really thinks it’s a romance between them as well, and they agree with and play off that— for instance confirming that they “fell in love” when he asked, or ranboo confirming that they “make out on occasion”.

people will still put platonic on their art and posts, imo, because they’re worried about breaking ranboo and tubbo’s irl boundaries by looking like they ship them. or even just being accused of shipping real life minors. and that’s a valid fear to have.

the thing is though: c!bee duo are not cc!bee duo. they’re roleplay characters. cc!bee duo are not okay with being shipped, but they made their characters get canonically married, and call each other “husbands”. so it’s okay to write the word “husband” in your comic without adding “platonic” to it, i promise.

telling the ccs that their characters have to be platonic is... weird. it comes off as not only babying them, but also as saying teens can’t date without it being gross. which isn’t true.

(this is why seeing people overuse “platonic husband” so much bothers me. like, they ARE husbands. you can just say it. what are you trying to hide...?)

do i think they’re canonically romantic? ehh, its likely. it’s still okay to interpret them as platonic, because again, it’s hard to tell where jokes end and roleplay begins. like, maybe it’s jokes in the rp too, and c!bee duo are just friends. friends can and should be allowed to make jokes like that with each other! aro & ace marriages exist!

or, maybe it’s actually part of the rp, and they’re very much romantic. we don’t know!

some people say they could be a qpr (queerplatonic romance), which i could see. (a qpr is a relationship that fluctuates between, or can’t quite be sorted into, “romantic” and “platonic”. people in a qpr can do romantic things while having platonic feelings for each other). in my opinion this is a very valid interpretation as well!

CONCLUSION (sorry this got so long omfg):

are c!bee duo romantic?

its likely, but you can still interpret them however you like!

should i put /p on bee duo content?

ehhh? i find it annoying when it’s overused (as do others), but if you’re worried you can. its up to preference. putting it too much is weird though

should i put /p on things cc! bee duo do?

no. you’re not the one saying it so you can’t decide the tone tags for that. imagine you said something to your friend and a random stranger came up and was like “haha but that was /p right...?”

can i ship c!bee duo?

mmm. i’m not sure on this one. they are canonically married and very flirtatious, but the ccs don’t like being shipped and they’re close enough to being the ccs that actively shipping might be against boundaries.

can i treat c!bee duo as romantic?

yes. literally just don’t be weird about it. it’s not that hard! you can understand that two characters are husbands without making it weird

here’s the most important thing: boundaries. cc bee duo still haven’t told us what their preferences and canon is about this whole thing.

right now, i am assuming based on what they already show us they’re comfortable with, but! the second they give us any more info! all these opinions will change!

i am only going off what they do. i would never want to cross boundaries at all. i just wish they would make theirs a little more clear.

..... i hope that helped anon, i went way off the rails... i need to go to sleep.

#it’s late im so sorry for how much i rambled and wrote #i hope this helps you #bee duo #og post #there’s probably so many spelling errors i need to go to bed #i tried to fix some spelling so reblog this one ig #and not the old one

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