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lucysstoryworld · 1 month

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The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)

Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.

Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.

Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.

No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!

Words: 3620

Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.

“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.

Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”

Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.

Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.

Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.

Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.

With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.

***

Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.

Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.

With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.

***

Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.

"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.

Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.

The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.

Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.

Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.

Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.

"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."

A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.

"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."

"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.

"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.

Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.

"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"

"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.

"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.

"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.

"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.

"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."

Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.

Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.

"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"

"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."

"Rhys," Feyre warned.

The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.

"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"

"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."

"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.

"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."

Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.

"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.

"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.

To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.

"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.

"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.

"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."

Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.

Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.

His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.

Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."

Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.

Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.

And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar azriel #morrigan acotar #cassian acotar #amren acotar #cc hofas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #nessian #elain archeron

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thebowieconstricker · 4 months

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Stagedoor Sparks! (Matthew Patel x Reader) ✨🔥🔱

AN: OH MY GOODNESS YOU GUYS WERE FEELING THIS ONE OKAY-

I’m so glad to see people hyped up for my pathetic pirate boy. Please enjoy and if this goes well I may turn it into a series lol

We’ve got a gender neutral reader, idiots in love, I saw someone say pathetic x pathetic and YES, theater kid lingo, mild swearing, and your favorite cutie pie. ⚠️Also, this is heavily based on Scott Pilgrim Takes Off, so spoiler warnings for that if you haven’t seen it! ⚠️ Enjoy!

“Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Musical”, was what the bright lights of the massive sign on your local theater boasted. Recently, your coworker Julie had been telling you about the ridiculous life of this ‘Scott Pilgrim’, ranting about the conga line of characters that filled his (frankly, pathetic sounding) existence. She had also alerted you to this… musical. A musical that had been written about his life.

You sighed to yourself and adjusted your bag. Making your way to the golden, elaborately designed doors, just barely dodging all the paparazzi (why was there so much paparazzi?), you somehow successfully made your way into the main lobby of the theatre. Ivory and gold filled your vision as you observed the plush red carpet that lined each of the three floors. You had visited this theater before, and it’s gorgeous grandeur never failed to amaze you.

Now, you did not at all care about this guy. Yes, you had been silently internalizing every minuscule part of this random guy’s daily shenanigans, but that was because you were being a good friend to Julie! This Scott guy seemed like a tool, and you weren't particularly interested in listening to a…?

You checked the playbill the usher had just handed you.

…THREE HOUR MUSICAL?!? You almost started laughing right there.

But anyways, you weren’t here for this Scott guy.

You were here for musical theater. You had always been drawn to the fantastical world of lights and costumes and music. Plus, this was a community production with actors from Toronto, and you were always happy to support your local theater kids.

As you finally made your way to your seat, you sat down in the plush red chairs and opened your playbill to the cast section. You didn’t see any names you recognized, but one stood out to you.

Matthew Patel - Scott Pilgrim

Obviously, Scott Pilgrim was the lead role, but what really caught your attention was the picture attached to the name. Matthew Patel, you respectfully observed, was mad cute.

The lights suddenly began to dim and you settled in for whatever was in store, keeping a keen eye out for this ‘Matthew Patel’.

~~~ Holy shit, this is the best thing you’ve ever seen.

From the moment Matthew Patel walked onstage, you were absolutely smitten. He wore a bright orange wig that clashed horrendously with his dark skin, and an oversized jacket, but he was the hottest thing you had ever seen. Also, holy shit, Matthew Patel could sing. From the first line, you were completely enraptured by his high tenor belting. As you watched him onstage, you saw literal sparks in his eyes, his excitement and passion for the stage radiating off of him.

At the curtain call, you stood and enthusiastically clapped for each of the cast members, but hooped and hollered for Matthew especially. Even though you knew he couldn’t see you from the stage, you found yourself blushing at the thought of him looking at you.

That’s when it hit you: You’ve gotta book it to stage door to meet this guy.

~~~ Matthew Patel was completely exhausted. As the curtains flew closed, he sighed and turned around to smile at his cast mates. Although he was drained by his performance, he always took this opportunity at the end of a show to look to his fellow caste mates.

And hopefully someone would invite him with their group to an after show dinner.

He walked through the crowd, giving pats on the back and thumbs ups as he made his way to his dressing room. Lots of smiles, lots of “great job!”’s but… no invitations.

Slamming the door to his room he quickly took of his wig and put on his regular clothes, deciding that he would take off his stage makeup at home (aka the makeup he regularly wore but no one cared enough to know that). His room had a window where he could look down at the stagedoor line, the line that had been non-existent since opening night. He didn’t take it personally, since this musical was for a very specific audience of people and he understood that outside of them, no one knew or cared who Scott Pilgrim was. But still, he was onstage. He was singing and dancing and his art was being celebrated. Yes, he was lonely, still, but life wasn’t too bad right now.

As he did every day, he quickly glanced out his window to check for audience members at stage door and, sure enough, no one-

Wait-

Someone was there?

He did a double take and physically walked to the window, his hands placed against the glass and his now quickening breath creating a fog.

SOMEONE WAS THERE??!?!?

From high up in his dressing room, he saw a small figure holding the bright red playbill of his show. They seemed to be moving back and forth on their feet, bouncing excitedly. From so high up he couldn’t see their expression, but could make out what he thought was a smile.

He broke out into a wide smile. Running around his room, gathering his things and throwing them into his backpack, only one thought raced through his mind: He had to get down there.

~~~ As you waited, the cold Toronto air stung against your flushed cheeks. You were still high on endorphins from the show, the songs already worming their way into your head as you tapped your feet in anticipation.

Suddenly, and without warning, a man burst out of the dark black door you were waiting out, out of breath and panting. He was so hellbent on running out the door that he ran right into you, knocking you over!

“AH-“, you both made the same sound as you fell, the man directly on top of you.

“Oh- apologies, ma’am, I uh-“

You would have said a number of rude things to this man but, seeing his face, you were starstruck.

“Matthew Patel?”

His eyes widened in shock. Carefully, he got off of you and onto his knee in front of you. Gently, he took your hand and pulled you up, the both of you now back on your feet.

“You know me?”

You couldn’t help but notice the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Of course! Well- I mean, you know, you’re Scott Pilgrim! You were absolutely incredible up there, just amazing! My jaw was the floor the whole time! I mean, your voice and your dancing and the fight scenes-“

As you rambled on and on, Matthew was unable to snap himself out of the trance you had put him in. Visually, you were breathtaking, so much so he didn’t know how he had ever found anyone else attractive. But more so, you were genuinely complimenting him. He was never complimented on his theater work. He’d get the rare one from his cast mates, but never an outside fan.

Noticing his silence, you suddenly stopped talking.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to rant, it’s just- one theater kid to another, you were so amazing.”

He shook his head at your apology. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re- you’re very kind. Thank you. And I’m sorry again for… running you over.”

You laughed- a leitmotif to rival Sondheims to Matthew’s ears- and looked at him with a goofy grin.

“Would you sign my playbill?”

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

The two of you spoke at the same time, and one’s question made the other blush furiously. Matthew’s entire body tensed in embarrassment that he had been bold enough to ask you out like this, not even knowing your name.

You were absolutely over the moon.

“I- uh- yes. Yes, I would love to.”

Your smile got impossibly wider, and the sparks in Matthew’s eyes that you had noted during his performance returned. With a huge grin, he reached out his hand to take your playbill. You handed it to him and a marker appeared in his other hand as he quickly scribbled his signature.

“What’s your name?”

You told him and his blush deepened. He turned back to the playbill and scribbled a bit more, then handed it to you. You squeaked in excitement and looked at what he had written.

To my biggest fan,

(Y/N)

Looking back up at him, you were certain this was the start of something new.

“So… do you like Italian?”

~~~ HEY MATTHEW FANS TAKE THIS FIC! GO, FETCH! This’ll make a lot more sense if you like musicals, so have fun! Like I said at the start, if y’all want more and I’m feeling up to it, I’ll write more! Happy holidays, folks!

#scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim #matthew patel x reader #matthew patel #scott pilgrim anime #Matthew Patel my beloved

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luvfy0dor · 2 months

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Omg can I request like a teen reader reaction to fyodors death and how it would play out if they randomly saw dazai in the street after the whole thing?

“You're Not Gone, You Can't Be Gone, No ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; MASSIVE BSD spoilers, death, 5 stages of grief, 1 mention of kidnapping (doesn't happen), cursing

Description; You feel as though you'll never recover from your father's death, especially since he had recently promised that he would be home soon via the vampires. Seeing his rival and murderer in the streets afterwards doesn't help either, even if you've started to come to terms.

A/n; I genuinely don't believe he's dead, there is absolutely NO way. There is nothing that could convince me he's actually dead, not a corpse, not a tombstone, idc, he's alive and Nikolais ability saved him, source: trust me bro

When you had first received word about your father dying from Nikolai, you felt like you were going to die along with him. Your heart had been cracking up with anxiety when he seemingly took his sweet time to return home, and it shattered when you heard. Everything was going as planned up until the very end, when you waited day in and day out for your dad, and he never came back and never would. You were in denial for a while, but it slowly sank in when Nikolai had taken you to live with him. He wasn't around constantly, usually out figuring out what to do with himself, but he watched over you. You loved Nikolai, he was like an uncle to you, but he just wasn't Fyodor. You almost hated yourself for the way your voice became laced with venom and loathing any time he tried to do anything remotely fatherly for you, but you couldn't help it for the first two months. It was too painful to evoke memories of your dad, so you just angrily pushed any reminders away. That being said, you refused to get rid of any of his belongings. His ushanka lived on your nightstand and his cape on a hook on your door, and if you had rejected religion before, you started to embrace it to try and bring yourself closer to him, even in the afterlife.

After experiencing the denial, anger, bargaining and depression, the acceptance came. The thought of him still hurt you, but you were able to go on with your day without feeling paralyzed by your devastation. You didn't mind Nikolai doing fatherly things for you anymore. You didn't decline his offers to play card games or chess anymore. Chess was harder to come around to than card games were, but nonetheless you did it. It honestly felt victorious. You were able to look at the urn that held the ashes from Fyodors arm without wanting to throw up and instead smiled and spoke mindlessly to it about your day, even if you felt a little silly doing it. It helped you cope with the loss of the most important figure in your life, so you didn't see a reason to stop.

A couple months after his death, you spoke to the urn while you got ready for the day. You wanted to go to a bookstore a couple blocks away, so you decided to get up and walk there. You grabbed your belt and shoved it through the loopholes of your pants roughly. "My favorite author put out a new book recently and I wanna go get it today. Maybe afterwards I'll go to the cafe nearby, thoughts?" You asked the urn, receiving a deafening silence. "Great, I'll be sure to follow your advice." You huffed. After putting on and tying your shoes, you grabbed the tote bag that was hanging of your door handle and slung it over your shoulder, exiting your bedroom. You walked through the hall and out the front door having found the house vacant of Nikolai. The sun was shining today, a nice contrast to the previous days rainy weather. Your feet hitting the pavement underneath you made a quiet tapping sound as you walked along the sidewalk towards the book shop. You listened to music through your headphones for the duration of your walk and took in the sights of the city, the tall buildings towering over the streets and casting dark shadows into the alleyways between them.

You quickly arrived at the book store and took off your headphones to hear the cashier better when you checked out. The nice lady handed you your change and sent you on your way. Walking out, you peered into your bag with excitement before you hear a young man yell out. "Dazai- where'd you go? Don't tell me you're in the river again!" You almost froze in your tracks when you heard that. Dazai as in your father's rival, Dazai? It couldn't be. You peered through the people weaving in between eachother and heard another voice reply. "I'm right here Atsushi, jeez, do you trust me that little?" He sounded unserious. Your eyes landed on them, the tall man with overgrown brown hair immediately caught your attention and you could feel fear flood your spirit. Your first thought was the question of whether or not he would realize you were Fyodors child and attempt to kill you, or make you his new rival. Him and the white haired boy he had with him turned towards you and started walking down the sidewalk. Dazai noticed your staring and raised an eyebrow, his slender, bandaged hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are you alright? You've got a thousand yard stare on your face there, kid." He says. You bit your lip and felt your whole body tense as you shook your head 'no'. "You...uhm, I know you." You mutter, backing up a little bit. "Atsushi? Or me? I don't think I recall ever meeting you. Atsushi, was this one of your little orphan friends?" He turns to Atsushi. "You killed my-" Your breath hitches when you realize you were going to make yourself vulnerable to your most current fear of rivalry with this man, but you can't stop your words flowed out of your mouth like a waterfall. "You killed my father." Your voice shook and you held your bag of more books than you had originally came for close to your chest. Dazais raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

You swallowed hard and parted your lips, the words caught in your throat for a second. "Fyodor." His eyes widen again. "Huh...I never took him for a family man. Well, I can't really give you a truthful 'im sorry' because I'm not, but I hope you can overcome your grief. It sucks to lose people you love." He says, his tone seemingly sympathetic, but that only made you angrier. "You didn't have to kill him, though! You could have done anything else- amputate an arm, kidnap him, anything that would have left him alive!" You say, your eyes tearing up. He only signed and stated at you, adjusting the hem of his vest. "What's done is done, it's not like I can resurrect him. One day you'll understand that it needed to be done." He walked away and you couldn't help but feel the anger bubble up inside you. You weren't gonna let that slide. You clenched your fists around the bags handles and swung it up, hitting him right in the back of the head angrily. He let out a quiet "oomph" and rubbed the back of his head. You didn't turn around to see the rest of his reaction, instead bolting away.

You heard your heart beat in your ears, but you couldn't be bothered to stop until you got home. You unlocked the door and swung it open before pulling it shut with just as much force. Your energy was all directly fueled by your anger towards Dazai, you genuinely had no idea how he could be so inconsiderate towards a teenager who had lost their parental figure. You huffed and collapsed on the couch, the adrenaline and energy seemingly fading away instantaneously. You discarded your books on the small table and sniffled, curling your limbs into your body. "It's fine, he's just an ignorant, awful, dick." You mumble, wiping your stray tears away. "All that matters is that I know he didn't deserve to die.." you mumbled and felt your exhaustion catch up to you as you drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of reuniting with your father.

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anyasathenaeum · 11 months

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*KICKS DOWN DOOR* YOU ASK FOR ERIKS AND I SHALL INDULGE ok so what im gonna need is some where the reader thinks Vash (they were dating before everything went to shit) is dead until they blow into town with Woofboy and they do the whole Recognition thing yknow. Ok and so after all the Bad Shit gets dealt with and they have a moment alone to talk, he thinks that they're not gonna be in love with him anymore after all this time and might even be pissed at him for sort of "abandoning" them but they just express nothing but joy at having him back in their arms again and how they're soulmates and sappy stuff like that and its very sweet and emotional and raw because they missed each other so so much. And if you sprinkled just a little spice at the end I wouldn't mind cuz the long hair and stubble is so sexy on that man. Maybe it would be great part 2 bait idk I don't wanna put too much on you. Might be best to play that by ear.

Sorry this is so long I got excited when I saw ur post ily bye.

Across Time and Space (Part 1)

A/N: HECK YEAH ANON I AM SO HERE FOR THIS. ERIKS!VASH HURT COMFORT LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I'm mostly going off of 98!Eriks with some Stampede!Eriks mixed in hehe and this is gonna have to be split into 2 parts because I'm INSPIRED. This part is mostly set up and some hurt in the hurt/comfort part of things. :P Read the continuation in part 2 here!

Pairing: Eriks!Vash x reader

Warnings: Some slight violence, mention of nudity, literally just going off episode 18 of Trigun so potential spoilers, potential spoilers for episode 12 of Trigun Stampede, the "hurt" part of "hurt/comfort"

You brought your hand up to shield your eyes from the glaring sunlight as the tiny town came into view, the bus you were on finally arriving after what felt like an eternity and a half.

"Remind me again why we chose to come to this tiny town, Wolfwood," You grumbled under your breath, grabbing your backpack and strapping it to your back as you started to get ready to disembark from the bus.

"Cause we gotta see if we can find the Humanoid Typhoon here," The priest replied, shooting you a smile that you couldn't bring yourself to return.

"Vash is dead, Wolfwood," You snapped back, your heart tightening in your chest as you said his name for what felt like the first time in forever, "He's dead, and we're not finding him."

Wolfwood just stayed silent, watching you carefully as you let out a deep sigh, rubbing your face with your hands, trying desperately to brush off the pain that the mere thought of Vash had brought you.

Wolfwood wasn't a fool - he knew you and Vash had been in love with each other. He knew that you and Vash were more than friends, that Vash was everything to you. Wolfwood remembered how you seemed to stop living after the disaster in the city of July, when the city was turned into a crater and Vash was nowhere to be found. You had watched the man you loved fall from the sky and the city cave in on itself in a massive explosion of energy - there was no way Vash could've survived that.

When Vash died, so did you. You existed, sure - you walked and talked and drank and ate, but you had stopped living. It was heartbreaking to watch - both Wolfwood and Meryl couldn't stand to see you so broken, but nothing they did could bring Vash back. And so, you became silent, closed-off, and you never smiled anymore.

"I'm sorry, Wolfwood. I just... don't see the point in hoping for what can't be," You apologized, your voice quiet as you stared down at the floor, your heart aching in your chest as Vash's smiling face appeared in your mind.

Wolfwood sighed a bit and just stepped forward, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually. However, when he spoke, his tone was surprisingly gentle.

"It's okay. You're still hurting, (Y/N). Let's just get off this bus and settle in, yeah?"

You nodded, pulling up your hood to cover your head as you followed Wolfwood off the bus, shoving through all the people who were fighting to get on the bus you had just arrived on.

"What the hell is all that about?" You muttered, glancing at Wolfwood in confusion as you both watched the crowd of people swarming the bus, many of them shouting at the driver to let them on.

"No clue, but I have a feeling we'll find out real soon," Wolfwood replied, his shades glistening in the sunlight as he turned his head, gesturing towards a building not too far away, "Let's start at the saloon. If anybody's got information, they'll likely be there."

You just nodded and followed Wolfwood, keeping your head down and your face hidden - you didn't feel like starting a conversation with anybody who recognized you as new to the town.

However, that plan immediately went out the window the moment you and Wolfwood stepped foot into the saloon, as you suddenly found every person in the saloon pointing their guns at the two of you. You let out a stifled yelp and threw your hands up, your heart beating fast in your chest. You heard Wolfwood let out a small sound just like you had, his hands up in the air, too, sweating slightly as he glanced around.

Thankfully, after a few seconds, the townsfolk decided you weren't a threat and lowered their weapons. With that, you and Wolfwood slowly approached the bar, and you could hear Wolfwood chatting with the bartender. As he did, you walked over to the window of the saloon, gazing at the people walking by and watching the mob chasing after the bus you had arrived on.

'Man, what a weird place,' You thought to yourself, 'Feels so tense here.'

Suddenly, you watched the ground near the bus explode, sending people flying through the air and causing Wolfwood to exclaim, "What happened over there?"

The bartender explained that the town was overrun with bandits, and then you heard the name "Vash the Stampede" escape his lips and your heart just about stopped in your chest. However, you immediately recognized that the kind of violence being orchestrated by this gang being run by "Vash the Stampede" was everything Vash opposed. There was no way this was Vash's doing.

'Like it matters, he's been dead for almost two years anyway,' You thought to yourself bitterly, your mouth pressing into a thin line. You weren't listening to whatever the bartender was telling Wolfwood, but you found yourself glancing over at the entrance as you heard the door swing open.

All the patrons immediately had their guns pointing at the intruders, which in this case, happened to be a tall man with long, blonde hair wearing glasses, holding a young girl with short, brown hair in what almost looked like a chokehold. You found yourself reaching for your own weapon, readying to fight the man until you heard the girl speak.

"Uh oh. Hey, what's the big idea you guys?!"

You jumped a little at how loud she was, and you heard the patrons mumbling to themselves, "Oh, it's only Lina."

"What do you mean "only Lina"?! Let go of me, Eriks!" The young girl, Lina, shouted, freeing herself from the grasp of the tall, blonde man who simply let her go and watched her walk towards the bar, his expression surprised.

"Lina, what's the big hurry?" The bartender asked as the girl walked over, standing right next to you and Wolfwood. You studied the girl carefully, deciding that she couldn't be older than 12 at the most.

'She's very brave, I gotta give her that,' You thought to yourself, your lip twitching upwards a bit.

"I was wondering if you could hide me somewhere," Lina asked, a sheepish smile on her face as she asked.

The bartender looked a bit concerned as he inquired, "What did you do this time?"

"She doesn't know when to quit."

You jumped out of your skin at the sudden, new voice - the tall, blonde man, Eriks, had walked up to the bar without you noticing. You physically jumped, your hood falling from your head and revealing your face, not that it mattered - you weren't trying to hide anymore.

"Oh, sorry! Did I scare yo-?" Eriks began to apologize, turning to look at you as he did so, but his sentence died in his mouth as he looked at your face, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"It's okay," You let out a jittery half-chuckle, just trying to recollect yourself, "I just didn't hear you walk up to the bar, just startled me a bit."

Eriks didn't say a word - he just continued to look at you, his eyes almost owlishly wide. You couldn't decode the expression on the man's face, and you began to feel uncomfortable at the level of intensity in his gaze.

"Um... is something wrong?" You asked, your voice making it clear that you were becoming uncomfortable.

That was enough to snap Eriks out of whatever stupour he was in, with him shaking his head a bit as though trying to clear it, his tone a bit embarrassed, "S-Sorry! No, nothing's wrong, you just... you look like somebody I knew once."

You found yourself wanting to smile a bit, but the words struck pain into your heart again and you just nodded, your lips pressing into a thin line once again.

"I see."

The man, Eriks, let out a nervous laugh before extending his hand to you for you to shake, "I'm Eriks. Sorry about startling you...?"

It was clear he was asking for your name. You just extended your hand and took his, shaking it firmly, "(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

You thought you felt Eriks' grip on your hand falter for half a moment, but you brushed it off - probably nothing of note.

"N-Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Eriks replied, his voice breaking slightly. He was evidently very, very nervous.

"Are you okay?" You asked bluntly, "You look ready to pass out."

Eriks just nodded before letting your hand go, "Y-Yeah! I'm good, I'm fine. Just, um... Lina's in trouble."

You didn't entirely buy that sudden excuse, but you decided to go with it, "Uh oh, what did she do?"

That's when you heard Lina explaining that she thumped a bandit across the face and that the bandit was coming after her.

"What are you telling me?" The bartender asked, his voice full of worry and his expression becoming one of horror, "Oh, my dear..."

"Yeah... I'm afraid so," Lina confirmed, leaning on the bar with a sad expression on her face, "And they weren't real happy about it. But, at least I don't think they saw me come in here."

The bartender immediately began to yell, and before you had a second to process what was happening, the wall next to you exploded, causing you to cry out as you got thrown across the room.

"Hey... I wasn't done eating yet," You heard Wolfwood complain, and you groaned as you sat up from the floor where you'd landed. You could've laughed at the image of Wolfwood holding his knife and fork over his plate, which was now crushed by a piece of broken wall.

"(Y/N)! You okay?"

You looked up to see Eriks standing above you, offering you his hand to help you up, which you took gladly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," You replied, brushing yourself off as you got to your feet, wincing slightly as your back ached from the impact, "I'm probably badly bruised, but I don't think anything's broken."

The look of relief on Eriks' face didn't feel like it matched what it should've been for a stranger he had just met - he looked relieved as he would look if you had been one of his closest friends. It was weird.

However, before you had a moment longer to think about it all, you heard yelling coming from outside the bar - the bandit who Lina had hit, yelling to give her up or that he'd shoot again if they didn't.

You grit your teeth, anger surging through your body - how dare this bandit threaten a child? She may be feisty and fiery, but she was still just a child. You grabbed your weapon and began to walk towards the hole in the wall, but somebody stopped you in your tracks, putting their arm out in front of you - Eriks.

"No, wait. Let me handle this," He spoke, his voice quiet but very sure. A surge of familiarity coursed through you - where had you heard this before? That tone... that calmness... it unsettled you as you knew you'd heard it before, but where? You couldn't pin it.

That split second of you being thrown off by the sudden feeling of déjà-vu was all Eriks needed before he walked out of the bar, his hands in the air, trying to appease the bandit and stop him from doing further damage to anybody or anything.

"Wolfwood," You mumbled, coming up to the priest, "Is it just me, or does Eriks feel... familiar to you?"

The priest just looked at you carefully, "Familiar? Familiar how?"

"I don't know," You confessed, "Just... the way he spoke to me just now reminded me of-"

Your eyes widened and your words died on your lips as you realized exactly who Eriks had reminded you of.

Vash.

You didn't need to say anything - Wolfwood could see the immediate look of shock on your face, the realization dawning on you. You could feel your breathing picking up and your heart rate was starting to go through the roof - why did Eriks sound so much like Vash? Hadn't you suffered enough? To lose Vash once was agony. But to be reminded of him now? It was unbearable.

"Woah, (Y/N), woah, calm down, breathe. You need to breath."

You could hear Wolfwood's words, but you couldn't understand them, couldn't process them. You were bordering on a full-blown panic attack. The world suddenly became quieter, all sounds muted, as though you were underwater. You couldn't process anything else going on around you right now. All you could do was stumble to your feet and run to the hole in the wall of the saloon, your eyes landing on the blonde man who reminded you so much of the love of your life.

You didn't really understand what was happening - you could vaguely hear the tones and timbre of Eriks' voice and the voice of the bandit, but you couldn't make out the words. You watched as Eriks bowed to the bandit all the way to the ground, trying to apologize on Lina's behalf and diffuse the situation, but it apparently hadn't been enough.

The bandit yelled something at Eriks, to which he apparently agreed. To your surprise, you watched as Eriks suddenly... began to take off his clothes?

"W-What?" You mumbled, not understanding what was happening. All you could make out was the sound of Lina crying next to you, and Wolfwood comforting her as Eriks defended her, even at the cost of his pride.

When you looked back at Eriks, you suddenly felt as though you had been hit by a truck.

Those scars... that body... the missing arm replaced with a prosthetic...

All you heard before the ground came up to meet you and the world went black around you was the sound of Wolfwood exclaiming your name - "(Y/N)!".

You don't know how long you'd been unconscious for, but when you found yourself waking up, you didn't recognize your surroundings. You were in a rather large room, laying on what could've only been a hospital bed, right next to a large window. There were no other beds or patients in the room with you - it was just you. And-

"Morning, sweetheart."

You jumped, turning to see Wolfwood sitting at your bedside, a smirk on his face as his cigarette dangled between his lips crookedly.

"W-Wolfwood," You spoke, your voice strained, "W-What-?"

"You dropped like a stone," Wolfwood explained, standing from his chair and walking over to sit right next to you on your bed, "You saw Eriks' scars and I guess the realization of who he was was just too much for you to handle. Can't say I'm surprised, it's not every day you learn that supposedly dead love of your life isn't actually dead."

Wolfwood just grinned at you, but you just sat there, unmoving, eyes staring forward like you were a statue, not really seeing whatever you were looking at. The memories of what had preceded your passing out came back to you in flashes, and before Wolfwood could continue speaking, you were suddenly sobbing as you had never sobbed before.

All the pain, the sadness, the grief, the loneliness, the feeling of having part of you missing for so long overwhelmed you, making you feel every bit of emotion you had been repressing over the past two years. You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, crying your eyes out as you buried your face into your knees, unable to comprehend what was happening. Surely you were dead, or dreaming, because there was no way that Vash was really alive.

Unless...

"I'll leave you be," You heard Wolfwood say gruffly, before he stood up, patting your back and leaving you alone to confront your emotions.

After that, Wolfwood walked over to another patient's room - that of Eriks, or rather, Vash the Stampede. He had already spoken to Vash earlier, telling him about the fact that Millions Knives was still at large, but now... this was going to be a very different conversation.

Wolfwood didn't even bother knocking, just letting himself right into Vash's room, walking over to where the blonde young man sat in his bed.

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't straight up kill (Y/N)," Wolfwood started, a small smirk on his face as he sat next to Vash, who was just watching him carefully. He watched Vash's expression become one of concern the moment your name left Wolfwood's lips.

"What do you mean?" Vash asked, eyebrows furrowing at Wolfwood's statement - the last Vash saw of you was when he stopped you from taking on the bandit yourself, and you were fine, then.

Wolfwood sighed, "(Y/N) saw your scars, Stampede. It was too much for them to handle and they passed out cold. Smacked their head pretty bad on the way down, but that was my bad, I didn't expect them to go down."

"What?!" Vash exclaimed, his blue eyes widening in worry. He immediately began to try to get out of his bed, but Wolfwood stopped him.

"(Y/N)'s spent the last two years grieving you, Vash. They believed you were dead. This is a bigger shock than you know. They heard nothing from you and the last thing they saw of you was when July city imploded on itself."

Vash's eyes somehow managed to widen even more, and tears were beginning to well in them as Wolfwood explained the situation to him. Wolfwood told him everything he knew - about how you'd essentially become a living statue, not truly living beyond basic existence, about how broken you'd become, how closed-off and sad you were now. You'd been changed so badly that neither Vash nor Wolfwood were really sure if you'd ever rebound from this.

By the time Wolfwood was done explaining, Vash found himself crying silently, his heart torn to pieces at the thought of what this had done to you.

"They loved you more than anything, Vash," Wolfwood stated quietly, standing up as he went to take his leave for the second time that day, "I think you owe them an explanation and a very big apology."

With that, Wolfwood left Vash to his own thoughts, just as he had done to you earlier.

Vash sat there, just replaying everything Wolfwood had told him in his mind. He was telling the truth, Vash knew - he had seen the look on your face when he initially saw you as Eriks. Vash had been so taken aback by you when he took a good look at your face - you looked so much like yourself, but simultaneously so different.

Your face had new scars, and lines engraved in your skin from frowning and worrying rather than from smiling, as you used to in the past. Your expression was tired and somewhat empty, even as you greeted him, and your tone was dull and serious. And your eyes...

Tears began to course down Vash's cheeks freely, soft sobs escaping from his throat as pain jolted through him as he recalled your eyes.

Your eyes were utterly lifeless. Like you had died in every way except physically.

Vash had had to restrain himself from gasping loudly, sobbing his heart out and begging you for forgiveness when he'd looked at you for the first time in two years. He had wanted nothing more than to pull you into his embrace as he used to do before July then and there, but when you failed to recognize him, Vash knew that he couldn't do that to you.

'There's no way they still love me now,' Vash thought to himself, his pain intensifying and his cries becoming louder as he sobbed into his hands, 'I've destroyed them, too.'

You were the love of Vash's life. Nobody ever meant more to him than you did, and after the destruction of July city... Vash couldn't face you. He was a murderer, while you were innocent, pure, and good. He couldn't bring himself to look for you, or try to reach out to you, because he had wanted to keep you safe. Especially now that his bounty was 60 billion double dollars and everybody was hunting for him.

But when he saw you in that saloon... and he saw how damaged you'd become... he realized that he'd done had been wrong. So, so wrong. You'd loved him all that time, to the point where his supposed death broke you beyond repair, and it was all Vash's fault. In trying to protect you, he'd been the one to hurt you worse than anybody ever had before.

And now, he had to find the strength to face you. But how could he?

"Your gun! Give me your gun, hurry!"

Vash suddenly heard the frantic, panicked voice of Lina's grandmother, Grandma Sheryl, coming from downstairs. He focused in, wiping the tears off his face as he listened.

"It's Lina, they got her!"

The arguing continued, and Vash knew what he had to do then. Once he'd rescued Lina, he'd talk to you. He'd face you, and finally pay for his mistake.

As Vash dressed and exited his room, he found Wolfwood standing there, leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his lips once more.

"They got (Y/N), too, it seems like," Wolfwood stated, looking surprisingly calm despite having to deliver terrible news, "Guess they thought (Y/N) was a worthy hostage."

Vash's eyes widened, and his gaze hardened slightly, his heart twisting hard in his chest at the thought of you in danger - despite the two years that had passed, Vash still loved you more than anything in his life, and he still sought to protect you. He had thought of you every day, wondering where you were, what you were up to, if you'd missed him...

He had to rescue you and Lina as soon as possible.

With his teeth gritted and his gun holstered, Vash headed out with Wolfwood trailing in his wake.

"Then, let's go get them."

Wolfwood just smirked.

"There's the Stampede I used to know."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #eriks!vash #trigun eriks #eriks x reader

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 2 months

Note

(Dont know if I should put this here, but I figured I might as well. Spoilers for The Owl House ahead! Beware!!)

I dunno why, but I had a thought... I was watching The Owl House recently and I saw one of the last eps of Season 1 where Eda goes into her cursed owl form and loses her magic. The whole scene where her eyes slowly go black and its all creepy and angsty and stuff?

Anyway, here's my thought: Ren was originally a plain old human. But then when he was young, he was cursed by someone/something (probably cuz he got into a sticky situation and did something stupid), and he is doomed to slowly lose himself and his humanity until he is permanently transformed into a massive wolf-like beast, one that is violent and powerful. He has to keep his human form by regularly taking a special potion, and if he doesnt have it he'll transform into the beast.

However, during the past couple seasons or so, his curse has been worsening. His human ears have been replaced with a wolves, his teeth and nails have sharpened, his cravings for fresh (especially raw) meat have gone through the roof. But most importantly, the amount of potions he needs to keep his cursed form at bay is increasing, and they're starting to be less and less effective.

But he can't let the Hermits know. He can't bear to tell them that he doesn't know how much time he has left. He loves them so much, too much to ever do that.

He just hopes that nobody has to see him as the beast...

This is the oldest ask in the inbox, from June 2021.

Poor Ren... i wonder if anyone notices, before it's too late. With every hermit there's sure to be someone who can help, even if just a little.... there are strong magics out there. It'll never go away completely, curses like that rarely do, but learning to coexist with the beast could be possible.

-Mod Mleem

#hermitcraft #rendog #mod mleem

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quin-ns-moved · 2 years

Text

Crazy For You (Tangerine x Reader)

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you sneak onto the bullet train to wish tangerine good luck in your own way

Tags: (18+), humor/banter, flirting, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, wall sex (technically it’s a door lol), risk of getting caught, porn with very little plot, bullet train spoilers (not really but just in case)

A/N: went and saw bullet train and I am obsessed with this man!! I just had to write for him cus I’m having massive tangerine brain rot right now he’s so fine

Cross-posted to ao3

Edit: check out my new blog with more writing @quin-ns

They were on the train, they had the White Dragon’s son, and Lemon had the briefcase. They were good, everything was going according to plan.

That is, until he got a text.

‘look up’

His brows furrowed at the message. Then he looked up.

“Everything alright, Tangerine?” Lemon asked him, watching in confusion as his counterpart smiled.

Tangerine stood from his seat without a word and made his way to the door leading to the little space between carts. It opened and in a matter of seconds he was staring down at you with an amused albeit confused look.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you.

“I came to see you, obviously,” you told him as if he should’ve been able to guess—which he should’ve. “It’s a dangerous mission, I wanted to wish you luck.”

“You came all the way to Tokyo to wish me luck?” Tangerine questioned, sensing an ulterior motive.

“Well…” you stepped closer to him, leaving very little space between the two of you. You had to look up just to see his face. “Maybe a little more than that,” you confessed.

Tangerine shook his head. “You are absolutely crazy, you know that?”

You grinned. “Crazy for you, maybe.”

“That was really cheesy,” he commented, feigning unamusement.

You shrugged. “I know.”

Then, you grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him down to your height, allowing you to press your lips against his. Tangerine fell into the kiss easily, his lips moving against yours.

It was over all too soon for his liking. You took a small, excited breath and smirked at him. Then, you turned your head and looked through the little window on the door.

Lemon had spotted you and you laughed, offering him a wave. You couldn’t hear him, but you saw as Lemon scoffed out what you hoped was a laugh then turned back around.

“You should text him and let him know you’re gonna be occupied until the next stop,” you told Tangerine, looking back up at him. “I know he worries about you.”

His brows furrowed again in intrigue. “Occupied, huh?”

“I confess.” You took his hand and led him into the next cart. You pressed up on your toes to whisper in his ear. “I didn’t come all the way here just to wish you luck.”

That’s when Tangerine noticed you had stopped in front of a bathroom. You reached for the door and opened it. “They’re surprisingly clean,” you commented as you stepped inside. You faced Tangerine, who was still standing just outside the door.

“Well?”

“You are definitely crazy,” he said decidedly. Then, he stepped into the restroom and closed the door behind him.

You had to bite back a smile when you heard the lock click.

“Y’know, if I started working with you I could see you all the time,” you mused aloud. “I get along with Lemon, I’m good with people, and I can fire a gun.”

Tangerine stepped close to you. “Last I remember, you called my work ‘stupid, reckless, and dangerous’,” he recalled teasingly.

“Yeah,” you admitted, closing the gap between the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “But then I thought about it… and I miss you too much when you’re gone.”

Tangerine sighed. “You know I’d love to have you with me all the time, but like you said before. This work is dangerous and I could never live with myself if something happened to you.”

It was true. Tangerine knew that if you accompanied him on missions, he wouldn’t be able to focus. He’d be too worried about all the horrible things that could happen to you. And if one of them did? He didn’t even want to think about it. While he worried about Lemon, he knew Lemon could look out for himself. And sure, maybe you could too, but his overprotectiveness of you wouldn’t allow him to even give you the opportunity. So yeah, Tangerine needed you where he knew you would be safe.

“Plus, I like knowing that I have you to look forward to when I come home,” Tangerine added.

You let out a dramatic sigh, but it was lighthearted. “Fine,” you agreed. “But I even thought of a name for myself.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Tangerine wondered, looking down at you with interest.

“Cherry,” you revealed. “Y’know, since you’re Tangerine, Lemon is Lemon… it fits the theme.”

“That’s clever.” Tangerine sounded amused.

You hummed, clearly proud of yourself. Your fingers reached to brush the ends of his soft, curly hair.. “I know. I’m clearly a genius.” The teasing sarcasm in your voice made him exhale a laugh. “And if you were smart… you’d kiss me while we still have time.”

The tone in the small room changed then. Your seductive words ignited the flame inside of him, reminding him of why the two of you were where you were in the first place.

He leaned down to kiss your waiting lips and a soft moan escaped at the need behind it.

“We have to be quick, I get off at the next stop,” you reminded in a breathless whisper against his lips. The realization that there was a ticking clock finally set in with Tangerine.

His hands were all over you in a flash, grasping at any available flesh to feel your skin against his. His kiss was rough and passionate, tasting you and expressing his desire. His mustache scratched your nose a bit but you didn’t care, all you could focus on was his tongue exploring your mouth.

No matter how clean the restroom was, he wasn’t touching the ground. Good thing there was a perfectly good door behind you—it looked fairly sturdy. Tangerine backed you up against it, his lips never leaving yours.

Your hands left his neck in order to slip between your bodies. Your nimble fingers landed on the buckle of his belt, working quickly to undo it.

He mindlessly rocked against you, rubbing his bulge against your waiting hand. The contact made him shudder, it had been a while since he’d been with you. He missed you—missed this. He didn’t realize the ache for you was there until he saw you. God, he was lucky to have you.

When his large hand fell to grip your bare thigh you gasped. Tangerine smiled against your lips.

“You wore a skirt,” he commented, just now realizing. He withdrew to look down at your exposed legs below the black fabric.

“I did say we had to be quick,” you replied cheekily.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” He said, never failing to be amazed by you.

You didn’t get a chance to respond because his lips were crashing into yours. At the same time, Tangerine’s other hand landed on your other thigh. Both hands then tucked under and he hoisted you up, pinning you between his body and the door. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

One of Tangerine’s hands moved between your legs. His thumb brushed along your clothed core gently, making you gasp. Then, he pulled your underwear aside and began pressing one thick finger inside of you. You were already wet for him, which made it easy to slide his finger in entirely—and then another.

You moaned gently, your head falling back against the door.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he commented under his breath.

Words failed you as his thick, skilled fingers worked you open—getting you ready for him.

You lost track of time, succumbing to the feel.

Then, very sudden to you, his hand left you. You whined at the loss, lifting your head slightly.

Between your bodies, you could see his hand frantically moving to push his pants and boxers down around his thighs. You felt his cock spring free and a quiver of excitement coursed through you.

He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your center.

“You ready?” he asked, being the gentleman he always was.

“Yeah,” you replied in a slight pant. Your legs tightened around him. The anticipation was killing you, but you wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

Your nails dug into his back as he started pushing into you. You bit your lip to muffle the moan that threatened to escape you at the feel of him filling you slowly. He was long and thick, stretching you out in the best way possible.

When he was completely enveloped by you, Tangerine let out a shaky sigh. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your neck, his mustache slightly tickling the skin.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His voice was breathy and the question was rhetorical.

“I thought I was crazy,” you replied sassily.

Tangerine exhaled a quick laugh as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. You were mesmerized by his shining blue eyes as he said, “that too,” with a flash of white teeth. His smile grew as he continued. “And I fucking love it.”

Then, suddenly, he was withdrawing from your body only to slam himself back inside in one motion. This time, he didn’t stop. Tangerine set a quick pace, his thick fingers digging into the supple skin of your thighs in order to hold you in place for him.

His cock inside you was like heaven, every stroke sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He’d taken the time to learn your body. He knew what spots to hit, what speed to use, how to get you there quick.

You were already falling apart in his grasp. Your head dropped to his shoulder, muffling your moans against the fabric of his fancy suit. Your arms stayed locked around him, holding on because there’s nothing more you could do.

There was a light thump that echoed through the small room as the force of his movements rattled the door behind you.

Tangerine focused on the feel of your body connected to his, knowing in only a few minutes you’d be leaving. He needed to make your time together count.

Your warm, wet walls welcomed him with every rough thrust. Your body shuddered around him, squeezing down on his cock as he forced you both towards the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasped out in his ear.

“Me too,” he admitted. Neither of you were going to last very long but given the time constraint, that was for the best.

Tangerine kept up his motions, bringing each of you closer. You were both far gone, lost in the sensation.

Until a loud pounding on the door behind you echoed through the room.

Your eyes went wide, looking at him, unsure of what to do.

“Occupied!” Tangerine yelled hoarsely, not slowing down. He didn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to (which he didn’t). You would have laughed if you weren’t trying to conceal your moans even more than before. You couldn’t risk getting caught, you’d both be thrown off the train.

Someone cursed in Japanese, but the knocking stopped. Whoever it was, hopefully they were gone.

The world outside was quickly forgotten as one of Tangerine’s hands moved between your legs. The cold brush of one of his big, gold rings against your warm skin made you shiver. The pad of his thumb found your bundle of nerves and the pressure he applied made gasp.

He leaned in and tilted his head, resting his lips by the shell of your ear. “You know what I want,” he whispered, making you shiver. “Are you going to give it to me?”

Your answer was nonverbal. His cock hit the right spot inside of you over and over, and combined with his thumb in your clit, you were a goner.

Your whole body tensed and tightened around him. You grasped him tighter, trying to hold yourself steady as your whole body convulsed around him. Your head fell back and one hand flew to cover your own mouth, muffling the cries of pleasure as your orgasm washed over you.

Tangerine was not far behind, pinning your pliant body against the door as he chased his own release. You didn’t mind being used, he’d made sure you got yours first. He always did.

Moments later, his thrusts got sloppy and you felt him shiver. He slammed into your waiting body one last time, then held you against him as his cock twitched inside of you.

The hand that was previously covering your mouth slapped over his, silencing his deep moan as he spilled inside of you.

After a few moments, you withdrew your hand. You watched him breathlessly, taking in the look of pleasure on his face. The sweat brimming his hairline, the slight flush in his cheeks, the way his curly hair had fallen slightly in his face.

“See something you like?” he quipped between breaths.

“You know I do,” you replied smoothly.

The two of you stayed like that for a few more breaths before Tangerine was pulling away from you. He helped you back to your feet, pulling your underwear back into place and adjusting your skirt.

He then tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He glanced in the mirror that was on the far wall and ran a hand—the one that hadn’t been between your legs—through his hair, pushing it back into place.

You opened your mouth to speak, but beneath your feet you felt a slight jerk and realized the train had come to a stop.

“Perfect timing,” you commented instead.

Tangerine let out a sigh, disappointed your time together was over. You pulled him into a quick kiss, which he responded to.

“Be safe,” you told him when you parted from him.

Your concern made him smile. “For you? Count on it,” he replied.

Then, he was watching your back as you unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. You slipped out quickly, needing to get off the train in under a minute. Once he was alone, Tangerine sighed again.

Someone then stepped into the doorway, an older looking lady, who began speaking to him loudly. Probably yelling at him to get out.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, pushing past her to get back to his cart.

He caught a glimpse of you on the train station platform and much to his luck, you saw him. You blew him a kiss as the door closed. Then, you were gone. It made his heart ache a little, he was man enough to admit that to himself.

Tangerine found his seat again and came face to face with Lemon—who looked very unamused.

“Welcome back,” he greeted sarcastically. “We’re on a serious mission, I hope you had your fun.”

The annoyed tone in Lemon’s voice made him crack a smirk. Because guess what? He had.

#my writing #tangerine x reader #tangerine #bullet train #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #lemon

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thefangirltreehouse · 1 year

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sebastian sallow | general thoughts / headcanons with gryffindor!mc

this is just overall thoughts on the sebastian arc and his general characterisation (yes, i am continuing to update this on my second playthrough)

spoilers below

the amount of times i’ve caught sebastian looking at mc through the start of my now second play-through is hilariously adorable, like don’t get me wrong the herbology one is absolutely the best, but i noticed that throughout charms sebastian is just staring at mc (like he’s straight up starts ignoring ominis speaking to him when they walk in the room) also the slight glances in defence against the dark arts before the duel is so cute.

he does it again whilst sirona and rookwood are arguing, like he just turns to them and similes

you can’t convince me otherwise that mc didn’t grab at least his arm to pull him away from ranrok, like it genuinely looks like that and if you squint hard enough it looks like he does the same thing when heading into the three broomsticks

listen i’m specifically playing as fem! & gryffindor! and the missions with ominis feel so reminiscent of the golden trio (i’m calling it now, they’re the electrum trio - a metal mixed with gold and sliver) especially the crucio side-mission

saw someone in a comment sum their dynamic up perfectly from my perspective

“i used to have beef with ominis before this (crucio) quest happened and now it’s me, a gryffindor dragging two slytherins by their shirt collars”

slight tangent but ominis is so sweet if you start as a slytherin! i saw my friend start his game and meet him in the common room and i was like “i’m sorry, is this the same tory bastard that yelled at me for nicking his pal?”

if anything sebastian comes off worse in that section.

almost every streamer i’ve came across assumes he’s flirting, like this was absolutely intentional

when either of the boys, particularly sebastian is speaking to imelda and the conversation of mc comes up she absolutely refers to mc as “that gryffindor of yours”

i mean, it’s the age old rivalry that just gives everything that extra oomph! despite the fact nobody seems to be questioning that a gryffindor has closely befriended not one, but two slytherins because that certainly isn't suspicious (i'm surprised one of the gryffindors didn't bring it up - particularly leander)

speaking of leander, why are the more prominent gryffindors (and ravenclaws) so antagonistic or hellbent on getting us in trouble?

sebastian’s jealously towards both his friends is dripping in the crucio quest like, in the line below i know he means because mc and ominis have special abilities but...

"between the two of you, i'm starting to feel left out"

the constant proud "that's my girl" look on his face

"never know who's watching - although that hasn't stopped us before." "strictly speaking, it has. we were caught."

also at the start of the library mission, anyone notice the way he's casually waiting on mc against the banister smiling up at her? or whilst he's waiting on her and ominis to figure out the location of the scriptorium? like, this boy knows he's the shit.

listen, there are certain things that sebastian said and did during his storyline that even at that age, i would’ve noped out of but i went in with a “yes, corrupt the little goody-two-shoes gryffindor madly infatuated with you” attitude and honestly it was so much fun. cause objectively yeah, sebastian should be expelled at the very least but my mc was not gonna let them do that (they're very much giving jd and veronica)

that said, mc isn't about to let him walk all over her, she's a gryffindor for a reason, she's just had some misguided judgement

don’t love how there isn’t much of a reaction from either boy after crucio is cast on mc, especially from sebastian (again, massive red flag) but also, think the devs missed the mark on that one like sebastian is still mc’s friend, yeah he really wants to see anne healed but a little sympathy shown would’ve been nice and a proper acknowledgement of what'd he'd done.

even if sebastian shrugged it off quickly he should've helped them walk or at least offered a hand to stand up

i love the wee house jibes, i wish we got more of them!

"you're not a bad chap, for a slytherin" "you gryffindors don't have a monopoly on bravery y'know"

an awful lot of english folk in the scottish highlands

sebastian and poppy are talking whilst leaving a class and my brain was like “omg her bf + gf are talking!”

i want triwizard and yule so badly!

the red and the green / gold and silver looks, look so good!

mc makes a comment about how amazed sebastian will be when she tells him that she took down the ashwinders by herself

"it'd be wise to keep an eye on you"

_____

general headcanons (oc-ish)

he'd absolutely mutter continuous little digs and comments throughout their classes simply to get under her skin and make her smile whilst she's trying to listen to their professors (he used to do this to ominis but he's able to ignore sebastian now after years of the torment)

whilst having dinner in the great hall they won't be sitting together but they'll lightly tap or nudge one another on the back if they're passing behind each-other's designated tables

sebastian refers to the fat lady painting as the "golden gate keeper of mediocrity" after walking mc back to gryffindor tower, which earns him a mildly deserved elbow jab

he gives mc piggy-backs during their trips to hogsmead and the quidditch pitch

whilst she's walking to and from classes with cressida or natsai, sebastian is regularly seen inserting himself between them, putting an arm over mc and / or pinching her away over to ominis and nerida

"who would've thought, all it took was a snake to tame the lion" cressida noted to a disinterested leander, peering over at the scarlet robes peaking beneath the sea of green

mc likes to softly poke at his blushing cheeks, joking that if sebastian "gets any redder, he won't be allowed back into slytherin" or that "he might have to come back to gryffindor with her"

mc has on occasion accidently fallen asleep, resting her head on his shoulder during history of magic

most of the gryffindors (nellie, leander and garreth in particular) will tease sebastian as he waits for her outside the common room, claiming "she was ours first" and attempt to distract her for as long as possible beyond the painting just to 'knock 'im down a few pegs'

they're well aware she's highly capable of holding her own, but not only is he a slytherin, he's also sebastian sallow so they're protective

he much prefers bumping into natty, who'll make a light "lost puppy" joke, share laugh and proceed to actually go get mc or he would actively seek out lucan because he knows the kid sucks-up to him but eventually the older gryffindors caught-on and would bribe lucan with chocolate frogs to stop him in his tracks

mc enjoys exposing sebastian to muggle trinkets and snacks, she grew up in a travelling circus with her parents, a ringmaster and fortune teller who never attended hogwarts in their youth (i'm gonna do a separate oc bio)

the trio all share a love of pumpkin pasties and lavender tea so whoever has a free period (or when sebastian has detention) will pop down to the kitchen to collect some

forehead kisses, hugs and interlocked arms whilst exploring the castle are everything to these two (their subtle little height difference is adorable, especially when you remember fem!mc is wearing wee wedged shoes at the start of the game)

highwing isn't his biggest fan (prefers ominis) and mc relishes in that

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #harry potter #my gif looks like ass #i forgot how to make them look good and im not used to getting clips from my ps5 #i'm gonna make a gif set with my second playthrough cause i missed screen recording a lot of their best scenes first time around

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stardroptasteslikesocialism · 5 months

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Say it Ain't So Part One

Gator has to face the music when his girlfriend turns his world upside down.

manchild!gator tillman x teacher!reader TW: Pregnancy, canon-appropriate violence, possible Fargo S5 spoilers.

Liberty Elementary School saw a lot more police presence after your first date with Deputy Tillman.

It was strange at first to the rest of the squad when Mr. Kick-Ass-Take-Names volunteered to cover school drop-off and pick-up times; a cupcake duty usually reserved for cops nearing retirement. And Gator wasn't exactly known for his concern for the wellbeing of children. But after seeing him make googly eyes over the new kindergarten teacher in charge of the car line, it made a lot more sense.

Things started to get serious between the two of you after a few months of back and forth during car line duty. He'd stop by your classroom during lunchtime, where you'd have an identical lunch packed for him. He'd rattle off stories about his morning that were most likely embellished to make himself sound cool. Still, you'd listen intently, trying not to get lost in those brown baby cow eyes of his. He'd feign interest in your morning with the "ankle-biters" as he dubbed them before heading back to his patrol.

You were keenly aware of the Tillmans' reputation. Sitting next to Gator in the front pew every Sunday Service led to many confused glances and jealous glares. Why on Earth would a teacher - arguably more educated than all of the Tillmans combined - seemingly settle for the high school has-been, nepotism man-child that was Gator Tillman?

But they didn't notice his look of adoration as you listened to every Sunday Service when the church's natural light hit the highlights of your face just right. They didn't see the Gator that made you laugh with his childish jokes and interests. They didn't hear the sweet nothings he muttered into your hair late at night, tangled in your sheets as you passed his vape between hits.

He made you feel beautiful; wanted, hell even needed.

The thought of possibly losing all of that terrified you. This was why the color drained from your face one particular afternoon when you heard a familiar knock on your classroom door.

"Mister Gator!" your students yelled in unison. They were enamored with the deputy.

"Mister Gator, is your gun real?"

"Have you ever killed anyone with it?"

"Can we see it?!"

The kids were relentless in their questioning of your boyfriend, who looked at you with panic in his eyes as the kids swarmed his legs. You rolled your eyes as he mouthed 'help me' before placing two fingers in your mouth and blowing your best Midwestern dad whistle.

"Hey! One, two, three. Eyes on me, kindergarten!" you shouted over the babble of 18 five-year-olds. You stifled a groan as all eyes fell on you, including Gator's, "Quit asking about Deputy Tillman's gun. It is for emergencies only and can only be used by him. Got it?"

The kids (and Gator) nodded.

"Good. Now, line up for lunch. You'll sit with Miss Julie's class today."

Gator heaved a sigh of relief as the kids lined up for lunch, chattering away. You felt his casted arm grace the small of your back.

"We need to talk," you whispered, ducking from his attempt to peck your cheek. You waited until the last kid was out the door before you locked it, leaving you and a confused Gator alone.

If a man could short-circuit, you'd probably witnessed it as you watched Gator freeze rigid, leaning against your Halloween-themed bulletin board.

An agonizing silence loomed over the classroom before Gator finally cleared his throat.

"H-how, uh, how long have you known?" he stammered, his fingers fidgeting with his vape. You could tell he was fighting every urge to give it a massive inhale in front of you.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, "I took like four tests this morning; all positive."

Gator mimicked your hand through his own hair, muttering fuck under his breath.

"Look, Gator I'm sorry," you shifted against the desk you were leaning on, "I definitely didn't plan on this, and I know this isn't exactly what you wanted, but-"

You kept rambling, but your voice was warped to Gator's ears like he was underwater; he was drowning. Drowning in the realization that he had fucked up; he royally fucked up again. Your tear-drenched pleading snapped him back to reality.

"Gator, please say something! I feel like I'm losing it, here."

Gator opened and shut his mouth multiple times before uttering a strangled "I - I don't know what I should say," God, his chest felt tight, "I don't know how to be a dad, Y/N. I'm already a colossal fuck-up in my dad's eyes. I don't want to fuck this up, too."

For the first time in his life, he was speechless; and it was happening at the worst possible time.

"Well, you're not off to the best start, asshole," you sniffled and wiped your nose on your bright cardigan's sleeve before glancing at your watch, "Kids'll be back in five minutes," you rubbed at your eyes, attempting to erase any evidence of your tears, "Look, my first appointment's on Monday. Come by if you want to. Or don't if that's what you want."

You turned your attention to the construction paper at your desk. As Gator turned toward the door, you called his name one more time.

You took a deep breath as he turned your way.

"There's no half-assing this; I can't have you half in and half out of this kid's life. It's all or nothing with me, Tillman. Don't come around unless you're ready for that."

Gator quietly nodded before entering the hallway and inhaling the largest gust of strawberry kiwi nicotine he could muster on the way to the patrol truck.

Gator spent the rest of his patrol mindlessly staring out the passenger window in an attempt to clear his head. But the longer he stared at the empty North Dakotan plains, the more his thoughts spiraled.

You were having his kid.

He was a boy in a man's skin; twenty-six, still in his childhood bedroom; still doing chores for his daddy. Before you blew into his life he was destined to live life under Roy Tillman's thumb, sniveling in the sheriff's shadow with nowhere to hide from the town's judgment.

You were having his kid.

And he dragged you into this, too.

Once Roy caught wind of his son knocking up a schoolteacher any semblance of freedom for you two would be gone. Roy would either use his connections and bribe you into agreeing to a back-alley abortion; or, he'd strong-arm you both into a shotgun wedding and life on the ranch forever under Tillman's watchful eye. No option sounded good.

Gator nodded at his partner, Alvie, as they neared a familiar gas station.

"Pull over here. I gotta take a piss."

Alvie obeyed, agreeing to fill up as Gator went inside. After taking a much-needed leak, he scoped the gas station for some much-needed snacks. After finding his goods he paused for a second before grabbing another pack for you. He wasn't sure if you'd even like them, but he figured the thought would count.

An eerie silence permeated the air as Gator climbed back into his passenger seat, tearing open his jerky packet with his teeth.

"Fuck, that's hot," he muttered as he struggled to open his Mountain Dew bottle with his casted arm. The heat rising in his lips made him regret his choice of snacks for you. He sat for a second in silence before glancing at his rearview mirror.

It was the image in the side view mirror that made him slide down in his seat in a panic before clambering out of the truck, service revolver in hand. Gator crept to the bed of the truck where Alvie lay dead on the pavement, a knife through his chest. Gator's pulse sped up and his breaths became ragged as he read the message attached to Alvie's bloody corpse.

You owe me. _______________________________

Thanks for reading! This is my first Tumblr fic and first Fargo fic, so any input is welcome. Stay tuned for part two!

#gator tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo

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honourablejester · 2 years

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Oh, I’ve been waiting to rant about this for years. Dracula, October 3rd, and why I hate Dracula/Mina as a concept so fucking much. Spoilers and extremely triggery bits under cut:

I’ve been waiting for everyone to get to this scene, Dracula half-turning Mina and every horrible detail it entails. I want to talk about how it is not a seduction or a trance or anything of the sort, of how it is directly brutal and violent and coercive and aimed to punish Mina for daring to go against Dracula. There is no romantic fucking vampire in this room. This scene is awful, and how the Dracula/Mina romance ever sprung up in its wake baffles and upsets me.

There is so much that Dracula is doing to both Mina and Jonathan in this scene, and all of it is horrific. I just … I’m gonna break it down a little bit, exorcise an old rant.

First, and I’m going to come back to this more later, but this scene takes place with Jonathan in the room. This was a choice, on both Stoker and Dracula’s parts. It is a massively impactful choice that seriously ramps up the horror. I’m gonna come back to why, but this one detail is going to be a huge theme for this rant. So many adaptations avoid this, because it makes everything Dracula does significantly and explicitly worse.

Second, I’m going to talk about the physical violence of Dracula towards Mina (and Jonathan). Because it’s the first thing we see. It’s the first image the men get when they burst into the room. This scene starts with violence.

“His face was turned from us, but the instant we saw we all recognised the Count—in every way, even to the scar on his forehead. With his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker’s hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension; his right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man’s bare breast which was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten’s nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink.”

Dracula has her arms dragged all the way out to the side, at full tension, using his full supernatural strength to ensure that she can’t fight him. Because she’s trying to. He’s forcing her head down, forcing her to drink. There’s … an explicit thing this resembles, and it’s horrifying. Her nightdress is covered in the evidence of his violence towards her. As the others approach, he flings her down ‘as though hurled from a height’. Afterwards, when they drive Dracula off:

“Van Helsing, Art, and I moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing, so despairing that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude and disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated by the blood which smeared her lips and cheeks and chin; from her throat trickled a thin stream of blood; her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her poor crushed hands, which bore on their whiteness the red mark of the Count’s terrible grip, and from behind them came a low desolate wail which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an endless grief.”

Her hands are crushed by his grip. She’s screaming with horror and terror and physically beaten. From a standing start, there is nothing romantic in this scene.

They wake Jonathan from Dracula’s stupor, and as he lunges up Mina reaches instinctively for him, and then pulls back, huddling away from him. Jonathan is shocked and horrified by this, and is lunging out of bed to go hunt Dracula down, and then:

“No! no! Jonathan, you must not leave me. I have suffered enough to-night, God knows, without the dread of his harming you. You must stay with me. Stay with these friends who will watch over you!” Her expression became frantic as she spoke; and, he yielding to her, she pulled him down sitting on the bed side, and clung to him fiercely.”

And this …

This is why it was so much fucking worse that Jonathan was there. Because Dracula’s violence wasn’t just pointed at Mina. It was pointed at Jonathan, and that was how he coerced her.

“I knew him at once from the description of the others. The waxen face; the high aquiline nose, on which the light fell in a thin white line; the parted red lips, with the sharp white teeth showing between; and the red eyes that I had seemed to see in the sunset on the windows of St. Mary’s Church at Whitby. I knew, too, the red scar on his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. For an instant my heart stood still, and I would have screamed out, only that I was paralysed. In the pause he spoke in a sort of keen, cutting whisper, pointing as he spoke to Jonathan:—

“ ‘Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.’ I was appalled and was too bewildered to do or say anything. With a mocking smile, he placed one hand upon my shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so, ‘First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!’”

If you make a sound I will dash his brains out before your eyes.

She wasn’t alone. Her husband was with her. But Jonathan wasn’t her protector when it came to it. He was Dracula’s hostage against her. And for the sake of his life, she was forced to betray him, while he lay beside her.

“On the bed beside the window lay Jonathan Harker, his face flushed and breathing heavily as though in a stupor. Kneeling on the near edge of the bed facing outwards was the white-clad figure of his wife. By her side stood a tall, thin man, clad in black.”

And this is why she’s desperate that Jonathan doesn’t go looking for Dracula. Why she’s ashamed to touch him. Why she thinks herself unclean. Dracula forced her to betray him, to become what he most feared and hated, while he was right there beside her. Helpless, the tool to force her obedience. She was forced to betray her husband essentially in their marriage bed, over his unconscious body.

“Unclean, unclean! I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh, that it should be that it is I who am now his worst enemy, and whom he may have most cause to fear.”

(And Jonathan, beautifully: “Nonsense, Mina. It is a shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you; and I shall not hear it from you. May God judge me by my deserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything ever come between us!” It was done to her, not by her, and he will not let the perception of it come between them)

There is such a hideous ball of horror that comes from Dracula violating her, body and soul, in their marriage bed, with the threat of her husband’s life on her obedience, and with said husband lying unconscious only inches away. He forced her to feel she had betrayed someone she loved, become what he most feared and hated, and that was the point. That was explicitly Dracula’s point.

“And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for a while; and shall be later on my companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn; for not one of them but shall minister to your needs. But as yet you are to be punished for what you have done. You have aided in thwarting me; now you shall come to my call. When my brain says “Come!” to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my bidding; and to that end this!’ With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp nails opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt out, he took my hands in one of his, holding them tight, and with the other seized my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, so that I must either suffocate or swallow some of the—— Oh my God! my God! what have I done?”

He was punishing her for standing against him, punishing the others through her. He is making her his slave, his thrall, to come to him when called, and to know that she betrays them by doing so. The entire thing is designed to make her feel guilty, feel shamed, feel betrayed and betrayer both. To damn her for all eternity.

There was absolutely no seduction in this, no desire to have Mina by his side, no care for Mina in the slightest. This is all a matter of pride and punishment, to show Mina, and Jonathan, and all the others, the absolute folly of standing against him. He is explicitly damning the one they love most to force her to destroy them or them to destroy her. To force them to betray and keep betraying each other. To break down all that is sacred between them.

He wanted her to feel violated and shamed and like she had done wrong. And he wanted the rest of them to know how deeply they had failed and damned her. Jonathan was right there. Right there. And he couldn’t protect her at all. He was helpless, and used against her. His life hung in the balance, and Mina had to sacrifice her very soul to try and protect him. Everything is aimed to show them how weak and stupid and vulnerable they are. How pathetic.

This was violence on every fucking level. Physical, emotional, moral, spiritual. A brutal, direct, snowballing assault on everything they held dear. Because they dared stand against him. They dared ‘play their brains against his’. Dracula cares absolutely nothing for Mina, she’s merely the most direct and damning route to demonstrate his dominance over all of them. He wanted them to destroy each other, for guilt and horror and remonstrations and all the physical violence of Mina’s burgeoning vampirism to splinter them apart. It was fully intended as a snowballing assault, to damn one of them so as to damn and break them all.

He hurt her. He threatened to murder her husband in the bed beside her. He violated her. He used her to violate her husband. He used her husband to violate her. He damned her soul to damn those around her. There’s nothing … There’s nothing you can get out of that, besides pride and monstrous delight in hurting people. He was deliberately and specifically aiming to do as much damage in a single act as possible, to use each and every one of them to hurt each other.

And it does work, to a degree. This, this, is where Jonathan’s hair turns white. This is where the cumulative shock finally overcomes him. As he sits and listens to Mina describe her violation, and how he was used to further it. Everything he went through in the castle, at least he could imagine Mina safe and well in England, even if he perished himself. But here … The worst, the absolute worst has happened, and he was there, and he worsened it. He didn’t help her, he didn’t protect her. He lay there in a stupor, and Dracula used the threat of violence against him to steal her soul. And Mina, she feels polluted, stained, ashamed. She’s terrified of Jonathan leaving, of Dracula bashing his brains in the second he’s out of her sight, but she’s also afraid to touch him, in case she’s too unclean and monstrous now to deserve it. She’s everything Jonathan is terrified of, now, everything he wrote about in his journals, every horror that has previously scarred him. She was forced into union with a monster in their bed and was made one with him. In one single move, Dracula does so much fucking damage.

But it doesn’t … it doesn’t work. It doesn’t. Not the way he intended it to. Because they rally, they don’t fall apart. Instead of crushing them and proving Dracula’s dominance over them, this is the moment that every single one of them becomes absolutely, unequivocably determined to see him dead, because that’s the only way to save Mina’s now-imperiled soul. No one reproaches her, no one flinches from her, no one calls her unclean or lets her call herself so. No, this is all on Dracula (and themselves, but for stupidity, not betrayal), and by God that vampire is going to finish this dead. Extremely, irrevocably dead.

They rallied. They rallied to her. And God, but that they could have done that just a little bit sooner, but still. They’ve gotten there.

“It may be that you may have to bear that mark till God himself see fit, as He most surely shall, on the Judgment Day, to redress all wrongs of the earth and of His children that He has placed thereon. And oh, Madam Mina, my dear, my dear, may we who love you be there to see, when that red scar, the sign of God’s knowledge of what has been, shall pass away, and leave your forehead as pure as the heart we know. For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass away when God sees right to lift the burden that is hard upon us. Till then we bear our Cross, as His Son did in obedience to His Will. It may be that we are chosen instruments of His good pleasure, and that we ascend to His bidding as that other through stripes and shame; through tears and blood; through doubts and fears, and all that makes the difference between God and man.”

There was hope in his words, and comfort; and they made for resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simultaneously we each took one of the old man’s hands and bent over and kissed it. Then without a word we all knelt down together, and, all holding hands, swore to be true to each other. We men pledged ourselves to raise the veil of sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way, we loved; and we prayed for help and guidance in the terrible task which lay before us.

Do not come near me with this romantic Dracula shit. What he did to her. To all of them. But this, here. This is what I love about this book. These terrified, wounded, violated soldiers of light banding together, protecting each other, supporting each other, loving each other. Freely and openly. They’ve made mistakes, horrific mistakes, and several people are dead for it, and Mina’s soul literally in the balance, but when the push comes, they don’t flinch, they don’t despise each other, they don’t break. They swear to be true to each other. All of them.

How can you look at this, at all of this, the horror that is Dracula and the love that is everyone else, and pick the romantic fucking vampire angle???

I can’t. I’ve been wanting to rant about this scene for years. All the things you see in the adaptations, the seduction, the trance, the reincarnated lovers, the absence of Jonathan and Dracula’s threat to him, the absence of the horrific, brutal coercion of it all. The absence of the love and comfort and guilt and determination afterwards. How it never shows the way they don’t blame or shame each other, even where they should, and cleave together instead. How they offer forgiveness, support, a pure willingness to die or be damned for each other. Mina, willing to kill herself, rather than hurt them. Jonathan, willing to damn his soul beside hers rather than leave her alone in darkness. Van Helsing, the others, willing to track down, fight, and die to kill the monster that has done this, now, immediately, before her soul can be lost, because it’s her soul that might be lost.

So much of this book is lost when you take away the raw gothic horror that is Dracula, the raw brutality, physical, emotional and spiritual, of what he does. He is horrific. He deliberately hurts them to the soul, brutalises them body, spirit and mind, uses them to hurt each other, turns them not out of any personal desire for them but because turning them causes the most pain and violation to the most people. He says, explicitly, that what he wants from Mina is a slave, that he wants to punish her for challenging him, that he wants her to betray herself and all that she holds dear. He has no care for her or for any of them. He threatened, completely casually, to bash Jonathan’s brains in where he lay sleeping so that she’d shut up and do what he wanted. He is the monster, and not only because of what he is, but because of what he does. Mina’s hands are crushed from his grip. Her body is tainted by his violation. Her spirit is almost broken by the way he forced her to betray those she loved most while they lay helpless. She is scarred, physically, mentally, emotionally, by his actions, and she may be enslaved and damned for all eternity as a result.

If you somehow got romance out of that, I want to … rant at you for a considerable length of time. Sure. Let’s go with that one.

I want the team. In an adaptation. I want the team so much. I want to watch them cleave together, I want to watch all the little ways they support and cheered and helped each other along the path. How they bowed under this hideous, hideous threat, and all it does to them, but then rallied, then came together, then fought.

I do not care about Dracula. The vampire. I don’t care about him. I want them. Just once, one adaptation, I want the full, delightful, supportive polyamorous glory that is them.

And I really wish I had any hope of getting it.

#dracula #dracula daily #spoilers #triggers for assault #and probably a lot of other things #i've been bottling this rant for YEARS

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ceruleanwhore · 11 months

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As someone who has never liked Jin since I first started ikepri, I recently was convinced to attempt to make my way through his romantic route after reading @randonauticrap’s wonderful and very compelling fanfic about him and now, as I finish his story, I wanted to take a very long minute to talk about it. I’d like to start with a bit of context before really getting into things, though. (Major spoilers for Luke and Jin’s routes below the cut.)

A few months ago, I saw a post somewhere on here that mentioned what, for me at the time, was a massive spoiler, that Jin killed Luke’s sister. At the time, I was in the middle of another route so I immediately took to YouTube to find a playlist of Jin’s route because my thought at the time was that I wanted to read it. However, I very quickly decided that I hated it, and then I kind of just flipped through some of the following chapters, kind of scanning for the stuff with Luke’s sister and not finding it, so then I just ended up skipping to the last 8 chapters and slogging through those. It is also worth mentioning that the only ending on YouTube was his dramatic ending.

Now, that whole experience sucked beyond belief and I came out of it deeply, passionately hating Jin because really all I saw was his awful, disrespectful behavior at the very beginning and that horrid shit he pulls both in ch 19 and then in the actual ending. A while after this whole ordeal, I did get around to reading Luke’s route, which made me hate Jin even more because, in the part where Jin is finally explaining what happened on Bloodstained Rose Day and we get his own flashback, there’s no dialogue, like he pulls this injured little girl from the rubble and then just slices her throat without her ever saying anything. Between that and what sure seemed like sexism from what bits and pieces of Jin’s route I’d seen, it gave me this idea that Leyla was straight up unconscious and he just decided to slice her throat like that because, in truth, he just wanted her out of the way and didn’t want to have to deal with her during the fighting but obviously he’d tell himself that it was for her sake or some shit. There’s still a bunch I’m missing with that but I’m about to get way more into this shit so I’m not concerned, but tldr I fucking hated this guy and I thought he was the worst kind of scum coming out of Luke’s route, especially since so many other people in the fandom have talked about how much he gives them the ick.

So now, at the end of his romantic route, I still don’t like him and I really think I was just bewitched by the beautiful things that @randonauticrap has written about him, but I don’t truly hate him anymore. I think I’m going to just list off my issues with his character as quickly as possible to just really show how much there is that I take issue with here without going on about it for an eternity.

First is the way he talks about women (i.e. comments about how he’s never seen such an impressive “rack” before.) More importantly, there’s how he’s sexualizing women in totally inappropriate contexts where there really aren’t any women present, like when he’s training his troops or when he goes to deal with that issue on the border and is addressing those kids from Obsidian. This particularly is disturbing to me because there’s already a longstanding history of men conflating sexual violence with the violence of war and for Jin to, however unintentionally, draw that direct of a connection between fighting in war and having sex with women is something I cannot abide by.

Also with his lack of respect of women is how he demands and abuses Emma’s time at the start of his route. It’s bad enough to put her in that god-awful position in the first place with Sariel and all that, but to then drag her away from the hard work she has to put in because of him just to make her spend an entire day watching him go around hitting on other women is beyond disrespectful. The other thing that really irks me is how he continues to hit on Emma after she’s made it super clear that, unlike the women he has relations with, she truly believes that such relations exclusively accompany real feelings. He acknowledges that she’s a true romantic and then is out here like “where’s my hug” and it makes me feel violent. I originally wasn’t totally against how he talks to women, since in canon all those faceless nameless side characters he fucks seem to be into it and I thought he was a consent king who stops if the woman clearly isn’t interested and only ever pursues women who are really into what he’s offering but apparently not.

Then there’s everything with Clause 99. First off, him putting in the clause basically reflects that his biggest fear is history repeating itself with his parents’ relationship and Clause 99 puts ALL of that responsibility on the women who will serve as Belle in the future. Secondly, this is backed by his hypocritical behavior throughout the different routes. In Luke’s route, he outright encourages Luke to pursue Emma in spite of making this clause and he easily yields to his other brothers when, in their own routes, they decide they want to revoke the clause, and yet Emma herself gets Clause 99 looming over her head throughout all of the routes. The conclusion which I believe is actually meant to be canon with this is that women are fragile little flowers who need extra special protection from the big, bad men and they need a fucking man to provide that protection. Rather than putting in any amount of effort at all whatsoever to make himself and his brothers and future generations of their family better, he’s putting all this serious, overwhelming pressure on the women. Also, the clause does jack shit to help mitigate the development of such emotions, so it literally just serves to put pressure and responsibility on women about things beyond their control while accomplishing nothing other than turning them into scapegoats.

Okay so then I really need to talk about Luke’s sister. So, as I started to talk about before, I now know that the flashback in Luke’s route was incomplete and that Leyla did actually beg for death, but even with that being the case there are still some major ethical issues here. For example, can a ~8 year old child have the bodily autonomy to actually request assisted suicide and should they? Does said child have enough knowledge of pain and injury to know when they’re actually about to die or not? Should a grown ass man actually heed a child’s request for death without even so much as having a doctor spare said child a glance first? But then after he killed her, he went and stole her body to go bury her in the woods, clearly just deciding that her dead body should go to him to use to try and make himself feel better. Those graves that are hidden where only he can find them do nothing for Leyla or for Luke; they exclusively exist for Jin. They are there solely for him to use to try and alleviate his guilt over time, like props.

Then, there’s the part in Luke’s route where he discovers the truth about Jin, so Jin takes him on a walk to those graves and tells the story of how he killed Leyla before he then tries to get Luke to kill him. Once again, this has nothing at all to do with trying to give Luke justice or closure and it has everything to do with Jin making everything about himself. There’s even a bit in there where Jin basically phrases it like he’s asking Luke to do him a favor and hear him out, making it clear that this is not at all for Luke’s benefit. Likewise, if he really cared about Luke getting real, meaningful justice and closure, he wouldn’t be trying to get Luke to murder him, putting all that blood directly on his hands, giving him further pain and trauma, and also ensuring that Chevalier would then kill Luke because of course he would.

Another thing I want to add, going off of that, is how very badly Jin sucks at conflict resolution, which we see multiple times between his route and Luke’s, whether it’s his conflict with Luke or how he handles shit so utterly fucking terribly with Emma or even that bullshit at the border with Obsidian at the end of his route. This man isn’t just shit at conflict resolution, he’s thoroughly proven that all attempts he makes at it are just variations of the same shit: self sacrifice fueled by ego dressed up to look like it’s heroic and really meant for the benefit of others that only actually harms those it’s supposedly meant to protect.

So I think my final takeaway with his character is that he is inherently very selfish but he has no self awareness about that selfishness and genuinely believes everything he’s doing is for other people. Another thing I want to talk about is that I saw a video the other day that also has softened my overall feelings about Jin, and that video was talking about the lack of self awareness of male feminists. This video talke about how some of these men who are out here making online content around ‘educating’ other men about feminism and respecting women will sometimes share this sentiment like “women have all been traumatized by the bad men out there so you just need to be patient with them” and how condescending it is. The issue here is that, when men say this, they are refusing to acknowledge that even as a good ol feminist ally, their own behavior can come across as sexist and they themselves can give us the ick or make us feel unsafe.

I bring this up because, with Jin, I originally thought he was a sexist dick hiding behind a very thin facade of “but I love women,” but now I think it really is just a complete lack of self awareness where, like the men that video talked about, he sees himself as a feminist who loves women, so he doesn’t see how his words and actions can make it seem as though he’s violently sexist. So, to sum everything up, when I first found @randonauticrap’s stuff and then subsequently decided to read Jin’s story, I genuinely hated him because I saw him as dangerously sexist and selfish but now, as I finish his route, I don’t like him but I no longer hate him the way I did. Now I see him as capable of change and I think that like after the end of the story, a good person like the one he’s in a relationship with could successfully help him grow and change into a better person.

#ikepri #ikeprince #ikemen prince #ikepri jin #jin grandet #anti jin #anti jin grandet #i tried yall #i swear i wanted to like him

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turningvioletviolet · 1 year

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Okay so I just finished the Nerdy Prudes Must Die digital ticket, and I have to say, the most interesting part of watching it is that this crowd...didn't really seem to have watched Nightmare Time?

There were a lot of NMT callbacks and references in the show, and when I saw it live (closing weekend, not opening like the digital ticket), people cheers so fucking loudly at all of them that it actually started to annoy me because at times you couldn't hear what the actors were saying/singing over the cheers.

Some of the most notable examples of this include (massive spoilers ahead, obviously):

"You kind of look like that homeless guy from downtown".

The digital ticket crowd laughed at the joke, sure, but the closing weekend audience fucking lost it.

That's because it's a three layered joke: first there's Richie's simple dig at Pete looking homeless, second there's the inside joke that Joey actually plays both Pete and the homeless guy, but third there's the fact that the homeless guy is canonically Pete's older brother time traveled to the past...they just don't know it.

The digital ticket audience laughed an appropriate level for a group that recognized the first, maybe the second layer of the joke. But it was the closing weekend crowd that absolutely lost it.

(And it wasn't just a matter of the cheers not being audible - later on, when the "I have been waiting for my hot chocolate for what feels like five fucking years" joke came on, the digital audience screamed exactly as loud as they did when I saw the show live closing weekend. So the issue isn't how much audience noise the mics picked up, it's how many audience members understood the reference)

The Lords in Black

First of all, even before the Lords in Black appeared onstage, when the teens were starting the ritual, the audience in closing weekend was already losing it, whereas the digital ticket audience was dead silent. When the Lords in Black actually appeared, both audiences screamed and cheered, but I swear the closing weekend audience cheered for FAR longer, well into the actual singing. There's a much more telling fact, though.

When I saw the show live, people would cheer like crazy for just about every bit of spoken dialogue, be it Nibbly's "I wanna lick it" or Blinky's "We've been watching you Gracey".

I think the line that got the loudest applause was Tinky's "Oh boy, a Spankoffski! I'm gonna have the whole set in my toy box!" Like, people were freaking the fuck. out. at that line.

But in the digital ticket...that didn't really seem to happen. They reacted like it was just generally creepy dialogue, not like any of it actually meant anything to them.

Until Wiggly spoke, of course, and spoke of "friendy wends" and his "Christmas list". Then the audience lost it. Which suggests to me that they had seen Black Friday, but not Nightmare Time, and certainly not Time Bastard.

Hatchetfield Action News with Dan and Donna

On the first announcement, I swear to god people were cheering so loudly that you'd have though it was Joey and Lauren actually onstage and not a voiceover. I actually had no idea what the first half of that announcement actually said until I watched the digital ticket because the cheers were THAT. LOUD.

The second announcement was almost as bad, but not quite. But then Dan and Donna actually came onstage in the middle of a song, and there went my ability to discern a single lyric for a hot minute, lmao.

The Black Book

As soon as the teens picked up an object wrapped in cloth, I heard gasps and turned around and you could tell that people already knew what it was going to be. And as the object got unwrapped, those gasps erupted into ecstatic cheers.

Watching the digital ticket, having seen that, felt almost uncomfortable because of how dead silent the audience was. They weren't seeing the Black Book oh my GOD, they were waiting to find out what the mayor just had them dig up. Hell, when Pete asked, "a book?", there were a few chuckles from the crowd. Nobody was fucking chuckling on closing weekend, let me tell you.

And more

Mostly just little things, honestly. When Soloman Lauter first mentioned The Church of the Starry Children, and the crowd burst into cheers. When Grace was telling the story of what happened to the Waylans, and the audience made a possible connection to the whole "Axe Men" thing.

So yeah.

I wanna reiterate that, despite being one of the people freaking out, it honestly was kinda annoying, especially once the Black Book came out and things got lore-heavy.

Like, I kinda wanted everyone in the audience to shut up for two seconds so I could just watch the plot, lol. But at the same time, it was very energizing and validating, hearing so many people externally losing their minds the same way I was losing mind internally.

I'll also say that for the more dramatic scenes, like when they were digging up the black book or reciting the incantation, it does come off as more tense when the audience is dead silent, compared to an audience losing their marbles.

Anyway, to say the least, it'll be interesting to see what type of audience the YT release has (they did have cameras on either end of the aisle through the show I attending, so I'm guessing that they'll use some of that footage, but I wouldn't be surprised if they compile multiple shows' worth of footage to make the cleanest possible YT release).

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd spoilers #nightmare time #starkid npmd #starkid #team starkid #nerdy prudes must die spoilers #the lords in black #nightmare time 2 #nightmare time spoilers #grace chasity #steph lauter #pete spankoffski #time bastard #soloman lauter

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kizzer · 2 years

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You're Fucking Pathetic Part 2| The Umbrella Academy FF

A/N: I am so sorry this took me so long to write I honestly couldn't come up with ANYTHING. But, after some hours of procrastination and some coffee up my ass I finished! =] ALSO, I ended it off in a way that's much easier for me to continue, plus I have an Idea for a part three so stay tuned for that!

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TUA SEASONS 3, swearing, mentions drugs, death, (if you guys have any other tw's I need to add, pls let me know!)

part 1 | next part (coming soon)

After that argument you left everything tense.

As you should.

You walked around the house looking for Viktor, worried he’s hating himself right now. Honestly if you could whoop Allisons ass right now you would but checking in on Viktor was more important. You walked along the halls, tracing your hand along the wall, reminiscing about the old times. You and Diego reading books to help with his stutter. You and Klaus and Ben having random ass dance parties. You and Allison and Viktor gossiping/venting about boys that try and talk to you all the time. You and Five jumping through time together. You and Luther watching movies late at night even though you had training in the morning.

You pass Ben's old room and see Viktor laying down with Harlan’s recorder on. You also hear Ben.

“Have you been waiting for someone to come chase after you this whole time?” He asked.

“Wow! That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s official. Our Ben was better.” Viktor says.

“Yes. Yes he was. Especially because he knew when to shut the fuck up. Why don’t you take note?” You say flipping Ben off.

“Ouch.” he says and walks out of the room.

“Hey…Are you doing okay?” You say sitting next to Viktor.

“Y/n….You know I didn’t mean to end the world right? O-Or do anything Allison is blaming me for?”

“Of course Viktor! Had we been honest about your abilities from the beginning and had father been patient with you then none of this would have happened.” You place your hand on his back, “Even when you wrote that book, everyone was mad for what? Because you told the truth? Told the world we weren't the perfect family they thought we were? I mean this with good intentions. I never cared about that book. You were outcasted all your life, ignored even by the people you called family. That book? Was your story. And I’m sorry they ignored that.”

Viktor laughs lightly.

“Thanks y/n/n. You know, even though you were never really adopted into our family, I'm glad you became my sister.” He smiles softly at you bringing you into a warm embrace.

“I hated myself for so long. I hated you all for so long, and when my powers exploded I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know I would cause the end of the world… Allison blames me for destroying Claire but if it was up to me I wouldn’t have taken her from her child and she knows that.” Viktor sighs heavily.

“Vik, I get it. I love you and you are an amazing human now. When I told you back in ‘63 that I forgave you, that's what I meant.” You say hugging him for one last time.

“Thank you. Before you and everyone else forgave me…I-I almost…”

“Hey, hey, hey. I love you okay?” You say looking into his eyes

“Now, wanna help save the world?”

“Do I have a choice?” Viktor says walking out of the room.

You guys head down to the basement and walk down to see the Kugleblitz. It was the first time you ever saw it because according to your “older” siblings you were too fragile and small to be around something so massive and destructive. You didn’t mean any harm but you were more afraid of Viktor on his good days than you were that ball of lighting. You and Viktor enter the basement to find everyone standing around the ball of lighting. Five standing a little too close for comfort.

“Five, you’re scaring me.” You say beckoning him to your side. He sees that you are worried and steps back. You take a hold of his hand, not on no Allison and Luther stuff but the last time you let him go he slipped away for 15 years so, apologies if you are a little attached.

“Okay, how do we start?” Viktor says.

“Have you ever moved a nest of bees?” Sloane asks the group.

“No, because that’s weird…” Lila replies.

“You can’t just pick it up.” Sloane says, “You have to keep the nest calm while you build the box around it, and then you trap it.”

Allison is standing near you, with Five on the other side of you. You pull him to switch hands so that he stands in between you and Allison. He looks between you two then whispers in your ear.

“You’re being childish. Is this really what you wanna do while we are face to face with impending doom?”

“I’ll forgive her when I'm dead.” You say turning forward again.

“ Don’t say that.” He retorts, clearly not laughing.

“Sorry, force of habit?”

You weren’t really paying attention to the rest of the directions honestly because something else caught your attention. Footsteps. Who could it have been? Reginald wasn’t home and from what you could tell Grace was nowhere near the basement. It didn’t sit right with you.

“You didn’t tell me you were building a prison for God.” Grace says.

You look over and she is coming down the steps dressed as a nun holding a flamethrower.

“What the actual fuck?” You whisper under your breath to Five.

“Mom?” Diego says, looking at her.

“You have no right to do that.” She continues.

“We’re a little busy here Grace.” Luther yells.

“The day of vengeance was in my heart”

“What are you talking about?” Diego questions as he gets closer to her.

“And my year of redemption hath come.” Grace says.

Before you could react you see flames charging at you. Diego and Luther Jump out of the way but before you could move the flames catch your left sleeve on fire. You fall to the ground patting the fire out. As you lift your head you see everyone in a panic backing away from Grace but also worried about what would happen to Sloane and the others working on the Kugleblitz. You see Five running past you and pull him down to you.

“Okay I think I have a plan!” You yell over everyone so that he can hear.

“Is your arm okay???? Let me see it!” He says reaching for you.

“I’m fine! We don’t have that much time! You go and blip behind her and blip her upstairs after I charge her up with enough electricity to neutralize her!”

He nods his head and blips behind her. You stand up and give everyone a reassuring nod. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, channel all the anger you feel towards Allison, all the sadness you feel from the death of Harlan. You feel the ground rumble and feel the electricity course through your veins and you guide it through your fingertips shooting it at Grace.

“Go!” You yell at Five and he blips her away.

After she was taken care of you guys finished the job and then went upstairs to celebrate.

It was great. Besides Allison brooding in the corner everyone was drinking, dancing, and having fun. You however, weren’t big on drinking but you did have a blunt rolled up so you lit it and started smoking. You could see Allisons face turn up at your actions. Allison was never a big fan of you smoking weed, especially after you got high before a mission and ended up “harming” a citizen. By harm, Allison meant she wasn’t the one to rescue them so when you brought them back with rope burn and a few cuts she used that as an excuse to get you benched from any missions until father said so.

“Y/n, if you’re gonna smoke take it the fuck outside. It stinks.” Allison says from across the room.

You look at her and because you just saved the world you decided not to fuss.

“Is smoking bothering anyone else? If so, I'll put it out.” You say taking a long puff before blowing it out of your nose.

Everyone shakes their heads no before going back to their activities.

You smirk at Allison and turn to Viktor, “You wanna try?”

Viktor turns pale, “Y/n! You know I don’t smoke!”

You chuckle lightly, teasing him is so fun.

Before you could blink you saw Fei going to clink her glass with Christopher. Oh no. You knew that if disturbed with a different vibration than its own the Kugleblitz would react and destroy everything getting worse. You go to stand and call her name but you’re too late. You watch as Christopher starts to shake and Fei and Ben start to back up. Next thing you know you feel a Kugleblitz wave flow through your body and knock you over. When you look up Chris and Fei are gone….

There is no time to be sad as you watch the Kugleblitz get bigger and bigger.

Shit.

———---------------——TAGLIST---------------------------@beakami @birbtweettweet @sleep-yv

#the umbrella academy #five hargreaves x reader #allison x reader #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #luther x reader #diego x reader #umbrella academy klaus #umbrella academy x reader

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wolfmage553 · 1 year

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Massive Spoilers for Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol 3.

Okay, I know Tony Stark's sacrifice at the end of Endgame was tragically poignant and befitting of Tony's character arc of turning from war profiteer to hero.

But what if The Infinity Stones, more specifically The Soul Stone that had Natasha's spirit in it, tried to change Tony's fate by using The Time Stone to send Tony back in time before the backfiring of The Infinity Stones could take effect,

Specifically, back to when batch 89 was created by The High Evolutionary?

Imagine him seeing baby Rocket and thinking to himself "I have a son now."

Imagine him holding baby Rocket close and humming Country Roads, Take Me Home as a lullaby to his new adopted raccoon son.

Imagine baby Rocket's first word is some variation of dad (like papa or dada) and Tony is trying not to cry with a combination of pride and joy for his son.

Imagine him also deciding to protect the 89 batch since they are his son's friends.

But this AU has a bittersweet conclusion.

Tony, knowing he's living on borrowed time but not wanting to leave his son in the care of The High Evolutionary, sets The High Evolutionary's base to explode and evacuates every single innocent creature The High Evolutionary was experimenting on, including the batch 89 who are the last to board a ship in the docking bay.

Unfortunately, The High Evolutionary enters the docking bay just as Tony is about to board the ship batch 89 are on.

To buy time for their escape, Tony says "Go fly in the beautiful sky without me." and battles The High Evolutionary in the docking bay while Rocket starts the ship up.

Tony is mortality wounded during the fight and sets off the explosions when the ship carrying the 89 batch is far enough away to not be caught in the blast.

Tony dies from his injury before the explosions reach the docking bay but not before answering The High Evolutionary's question of "What are you doing?" with

"Preventing you from harming my son or his friends ever again."

Meanwhile, Rocket is flying the ship but puts it on autopilot after hearing the explosions and looks out the window to see what remains of the place he grew up in. At first, Rocket has a look of shock on his face but eventually tears begin to pour out from his eyes as he screams out for his dad.

Eventually, he decides to listen to some music and notices one of the folders in the MP3 section is titled "Songs for my son" and he decides to play songs from the folder.

The folder has bunch of songs from the 70s, the 80s and even the 90s with the latest song released being an acoustic cover of You'll Be In My Heart from Tarzan.

He also notices that there is a video in the MP4 files called "Farewell" with his dad in it so he decides to play it.

The video has Tony recounting multiple good memories the two shared as well as reassuring Rocket that he is worth far more than The High Evolutionary saw in him.

He also apologizes for leaving Rocket via dying saying that if he could've stayed a little longer than he would have.

Finally, he ends the video by saying "I know you'll survive whatever happens next. I will be watching over you in the endless sky."

Rocket smiles and says "Thank you, dad."

As for how the AU changes the MCU, Rocket would have his batch 89 friends alongside Groot and they'd be a mercenary group called The Endless Sky.

Rocket would be slightly less cyclical because he has his friends but still hardened by growing up having to be a mercenary in order to make ends meet because when Tony died, J.A.R.V.I.S wasn't online so he couldn't transfer any funds to a new account for Rocket.

Peter discovers that Rocket is carrying a MP3 player and headphones in his bag but Rocket refuses to answer where he got it so Peter assumes he stole them.

(He actually bought them with some money he got from his mercenary work because he didn't want the songs connecting him to the memories of his dad to be subconsciously tainted by the kleptomania he developed as a way to survive)

When Yondu dies in Vol 2, Rocket actually allows Peter to listen to one of his songs and actually talks about his own dad with Peter and says "I wonder if Yondu is talking with my dad in the endless sky."

The only members of The Endless Sky who don't die in the snapture are Rocket and Lylla.

During the five year time period between the snapture and the main plot of Endgame, Rocket notices the physical similarities between Tony Stak and his dad, not realizing that they are technically one in the same, and thinks that Tony Stark is his dad's twin brother and asks Tony if he had a twin brother.

Tony is confused but Rocket pulls up the "Farewell" video on Tony's computer that Rocket had saved on a USB drive. Tony, knowing that Rocket would never believe him if he told him that that was probably another version of him, lies and says that he had a twin brother. Rocket explains his relationship with his dad before asking if it's alright if he called Tony his uncle.

Tony, wanting Rocket to have some family after most of his found family were lost because of Thanos, allows Rocket to call him uncle.

When Tony sacrifices himself in Endgame, Rocket is upset at losing his uncle but decides to be strong for the remaining members of his family.

GOTG Vol 3 goes way differently because The High Evolutionary is no longer in the picture.

#rocket raccoon #tony stark #avengers endgame #guardians of the galaxy #gotg volume 3 spoilers #gotg vol 3 #Tony is Rocket's dad au #mcu au #Rocket Stark AU

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komorim · 2 years

Text

to be in another’s shoes

suna rintarou (post timeskip) x gn!reader

suna never would’ve thought that after being called cold countless times, he would finally experience how terrible it feels to have a cold partner

content warnings // post timeskip. manga spoilers. heavy angst. character death. mentions of sa. pain all around :)

word count // 2.7k

author’s note // i literally had this idea for ages and i’ve finally decided to write it. (ps: the whole thing is in past tense but the indented stuff are like “flashbacks” where it’s present tense)

he remembered how the two of you first met. he remembered how his younger sister was obsessed with ice skating at the time, and how he had been dragged along to see a competition one day. he remembered groveling in his seat as the show began. most importantly, he remembered the awe he felt when you entered the rink.

it was just a simple warmup before the competition, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of you right from the start. there was something that was just so alluring about you. how as you sped up, your hair blew behind you. how your outfit blew with your hair. how the lighting seemed to be shining on you alone. suna swore it was such a beautiful sight that he could never forget it as long as he lived. and he didn’t. he watched as you carried out a series of moves and although none of them was nearly as wonderful as your final performance, each and every twist and turn blew him away.

he remembered how his sister bothered him about how beautiful this other competitor was, and he couldn’t listen to any of what she was saying. when his sister realized that he was staring at you, she almost burst.

“don’t tell me you like y/n,” she whispers, hitting his arm.

“who’s that?”

“the one you’re staring at! they’re known for having the worst personality in the industry, so even if they’re very accomplished, they barely have any fans.”

suna turns towards his sister with furrowed eyebrows, all too familiar where this is heading. “for all you know, that may be just a rumor.”

and indeed it was.

suna and his sister had met you backstage and you were quite nice to say the least. in fact, his sister had loved you so much that once she got home, she posted massive pieces of text on social media about how nice you were; how you didn’t deserve all those nasty things said about you in the industry.

and the moment his sister had started liking you, also marked a major turning point in suna’s life. maybe the most important change too.

from then on, every time you had a competition, his sister would accompany him to see it. due to your low number of fans, the two of them became gradually closer and closer to you, often meeting you backstage to congratulate or reassure you. and when you won first place at the nationals, you almost cried the moment you saw their brilliant smiles.

it was also on that same day that suna’s sister had finally asked for your phone number in her brother’s stead. the mere question made you flustered, not knowing how to handle a situation like this. suna, on the other hand, was blushing as he hurriedly explained himself, all the while glaring at his pleased sister. he didn’t expect her to actually tell you about his growing crush, especially not in this manner.

but what surprised him even more was that you had actually took the phone in her hand and typed in your number. it felt almost like a dream when you handed back his phone, smiling as you told him you were also terribly happy that you had the opportunity to meet him.

and that was how your love story began. it started with simple checkup texts to simplistic dates, and suna was with you every part of the journey.

and even to this day, he remembers the day he finally asked you out. he remembers how his friends, particularly the twins, always bothered him about when he would ask for you to become his. he often dismissed the question with the reason that he’s busy with volleyball, but he knows from the bottom of his heart that he couldn’t wait either.

when he sent out that text asking if you were free tomorrow, his heart almost dropped when you said you didn’t. however, you were just as entranced by the volleyball player, and followed up with the response that you would make sure to make time for him.

the nervousness suna had felt was an emotion he never felt before. he usually wasn’t the initiative one in a relationship, so now when the roles were switched, he was terrified something would go wrong. he continually asked osamu if there was anything he missed, and he didn’t even want to think of the possibility of you saying no. so when you finally walked towards him with a smile on your face, suna swore he wanted to back out of the plan. but he didn’t.

after a series of walking around and doing activities he meticulously planned out (with the help of kita and osamu of course), he finally came to a halt in front of you. he felt your eyes on him as he clumsily searched his pocket for the necklace that would be a mark of his love for you.

“i’ve been thinking…and”

you display a curious look on your face as suna turns around to face you. “and what?”

you can see the red creeping on his neck even as his facial expression stays the same. “and,” there was a long pause, “would you like to go out with me?”

suna remembers the tears in your eyes as you almost knock him over with a hug. obviously, your answer had been yes, confessing to him that you had anticipated the question for quite a while now. and thus, a new segment of your relationship had been unlocked.

to say suna was a good boyfriend would be an understatement. he remembered all the small little anniversaries that you could never seem to recall, and would always prepare things that never fail to bring a smile to your face. it wouldn’t be a lie to say that he put more effort into your relationship than any other he has been in, and suna knows this deep down inside of him. he was absolutely mesmerized by you, and the fading of emotions he experienced with others seemed to be impossible in your relationship. contrarily, he fell deeper in love with you as the days passed.

though he remembers clearly the day the two of you took it a step further. the day he asked you to move in with him. it was the start of yet another adventure in which the two of you would share together.

you have told suna once that you believed that when couples move in together, they realize a part of their partner that did not know about. however, this would usually end up being an unpleasant detail that could ultimately lead to the separation of a once loving pair. because of this, suna wanted even more to prove you wrong; he wanted to show you that he loved you no matter what.

the dates didn’t stop even as the two of you saw each other every single day. the gifts never stopped either. it became a safe haven to come home to a place where you would be able to find your loved one in. suna’s volleyball career and your ice skating one made it terribly difficult to meet previously, but quality time was not a problem now.

he remembered specifically one day where he had waited for you to come home, a promise ring in his hand as he decided to prove his love to you once more. you never had that many insecurities, but suna felt the need to show you that there wasn’t a need to worry in the slightest. he waited for a few hours before he finally heard the door unlocking. the flowers he set on the table were your favorite and he grabbed them quickly, eager to surprise you.

your voice is dragged out and heavy with fatigue, though you still smile at the sight of your lovely boyfriend. “i’m home”

suna approaches you and hands you the flowers with a smile matching your own. he watches you sniff the flowers before showing you the ring. “y/n, i want you to know that that day my sister dragged me to your competition was the best day of my life. the day i felt finally complete; you make me feel complete. i have to thank myself for going to that competition, to let myself meet you. i know i may seem distant at times, but i want you to know that my love for you has never lessened, not one bit. i understand that both of our careers make it so that we’re both so busy, but i want to use this ring,” he chokes on his words a bit, “to tell you that there will definitely come a day in which i will formally ask for your hand in marriage. so please, believe in us and stay by my side”

that was the second time suna witnessed you cry, and although it was on a happy occasion, he told himself that he would never make you cry. he couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason your heart ached.

if suna could say that the four years the two of you spent dating was like a dream, then he would be entirely correct. everything was so unreal; he could’ve never thought that he would be so attached to someone. especially seeing as all his exes broke up with him because he was too cold. but after meeting you, he now knows that anything is possible.

anything is possible.

looking back now, he notices where it all started. where everything started going right. and where everything started going wrong.

the things his teammates shared with him about their love lives made him notice how he was the one putting in most of the effort in your relationship. of course, he knew from the start, but it didn’t bother him as much as it did after hearing their stories.

he started to question.

and questioning is the start of any crack in a relationship.

at first it was just the differences between his experience with you and his friends’ relationships. but he chalked it up to how you and him were different from his friends, it was natural that your relationship didn’t work the same way. but then he started noticing and magnifying all the things wrong with your bond.

the way you called him rin less and less. did you not feel so close to him anymore?

the way you always came home so late. did you not want to be in the same house as him anymore?

the way you never asked about his day anymore. did you not care enough about him?

the way you slept facing away from him. did you not want to even look at him now?

and all hell broke loose when he first pointed out these minuscule things. from small disputes, to arguments leaving the two of you not talking for days. to finally, one argument became the splinter that drove you two apart, splitting your relationship in half.

“can you calm down, suna?” you say, hands going through your hair as you sigh in exasperation.

“this is what i mean, y/n! you never call me rin anymore, it feels like we’re back to being strangers!” suna hears how ridiculous he must sound, why is he being so sensitive now?

“suna, i’ve just been really tired from practice and i don’t have the energy to go through with this daily quota you expect of me”

“it’s not that you’re too tired, y/n, just admit it! our relationship is falling apart.”

you try to reason with him, “suna, maybe you’re just reading too much into this-”

“all you care about is yourself, y/n! you don’t contribute to our relationship, and you certainly don’t act like you love me.” suna’s voice grows colder as the argument drags on, and his voice no longer carries the affection he has for you. “maybe those things said about you are true. you’re just a cold-blooded reptile that doesn’t love your fans or me! you only love yourself.”

and suna remembers the hurt in your eyes as you told him to calm down while you crash at your friend’s place for the next few days. the tears hanging on to the rim of your eyes as you finished your sentence. he remembers how you walked out the door without another word. how tears were rolling down your face when you left. he remembers how he didn’t do anything to stop you.

and even if remembers so many things, he doesn’t remember the days following your departure. but he explicitly remembers how it was only after you left did he start to notice all the contributions that you did put into your relationship. how although suna never cleaned the house, your house still stayed very clean. how even though you often came home late, there would always be breakfast waiting for him in the morning.

he also recalls the many phone calls with kita, and the twins coming over often. the twins visiting him brought something to his attention that someone as observant as him missed. the limp in your leg. the weird way you had walked for the past three months.

atsumu grabs the tv remote, turning it down just so he could yell at suna for his stupidity. “how did you not notice?” atsumu exclaimed.

osamu is much more stable than his older brother, sitting down next to suna to speak to him more gently. “y/n has had an acl tear for a while now, and unfortunately, it happened during a performance. with their personality, you should be able to guess that the performance wasn’t stopped. the injury worsened and the doctors said that even after reconstruction, skating professionally is out of the question.”

atsumu sighs, “my poor friend, y/n has been doing physical therapy and going all over the place trying to find something that can better their condition. you know how much skating means to y/n. it’s not like they have been coming home late because they wanted to.”

suna is lost in thought. he had been so caught up picking at the little things wrong that he didn’t even realize you were injured. he wants to hit himself for being so stupid. since when did he become such a paranoid person? this wasn’t like him at all.

the twins look at each other for a pause while suna sits with his head in his hands. none of them wanted to tell him, but it seemed inevitable at this point. osamu finally speaks, “suna…there’s also something else you should know.”

“the things your fans have been saying about y/n are terrible nowadays. they’ve been calling y/n a leech. some of the fans mistook y/n’s injury for them being lazy, saying how they’re now reliant on you and won’t even respect their career. some of the other names they’re called is even worse, and-”

something coming from the television catches their attention, and osamu stops talking. “just in. two time winning champion of the single skating nationals, and love interest of volleyball player suna rintaro, y/n, was seen protecting a victim subject to sexual assault. witnesses share that the perpetrator was making the victim noticeably uncomfortable, and y/n had stepped in when things were about to go too far. the perpetrator then pushed y/n, causing them to hit their head on a nearby pole. massive amounts of blood was lost, and the situation of y/n, who was taken by the ambulance twenty minutes ago, is unknown as of now.”

the two twins next to suna stare at each other with widened eyes, terrified at the sudden news.

though none of them could compare to suna, who went into a state of almost hysteria. “there’s no way that’s y/n.” he looks at the miya twins with a smile that makes the two uneasy. “it doesn’t even look like y/n! right?” when suna didn’t receive an answer, he continued to speak, but this time, more to himself. “you can’t even see their face, it couldn’t be y/n.”

suna’s phone was ringing and atsumu picks it up, seeing as suna was in no state to answer the phone. yet he didn’t realize that suna’s phone was on full volume as the doctor on the other side shared the news. “is this suna rintaro? we found you in y/n’s emergency contacts. we’re sad to inform you that they arrived at the er already dead, and our efforts to revive them did not succeed. we send our condolences and will answer any questions if needed. for now, i will leave you to accept the news.”

suna remembers crying that day. he remembers all the small things about you. he thinks about how you left this world without knowing that he didn’t really mean all the things he said that night.

and he remembers the promise he made to himself to never be the reason for your tears.

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

#suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro oneshot #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader angst #suna x reader #suna x reader angst #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #suna angst #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #suna rintarō #hq x reader #[🎐]. works

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