#it has been many months since i posted here. OOPS! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gentlyweeps-world · 2 months

Text

Irregular occurrences

sequel to regular occurrences

SMAU / fic

summary: You managed to balance a relationship with a driver whilst being a Sky Sports interviewer- but you’re old affair isn’t a fan.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of cheating | suggestive tones | toxic Pierre

genre: fluff-ish

notes: I did itttt

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Instagram

youruser posted to their page

Liked by charles_leclerc and others

youruser ☀️🌊

View all 632 comments

charles_leclerc 🤍🤍🤍

youruser 🫶🫶

skysportsf1 ??????

youruser whoops?

scuderiaferrari ??????

user7392 the reactions are killing me 😭😭

user9293 SAME OMG

francisca.cgomes cuties 😘😘

youruser 🤍🤍

francisca.cgomes you’re welcome 🫶

youruser thank you kika 🫶

user632 has anyone noticed that Pierre unfollowed Y/n AND CHARLES??

user632 He hasn’t liked any of her or Charles posts lately 🤨

user3729 I always thought he acted suspicious with Y/n

user0018 Y/n would never do anything with him, her and Kika are friends plus her and Charles are together

user632 still suspicious 🤷‍♀️

landonorris Hey guys…this is a little bit too random

youruser oops?

user7483 how tf is she with Charles

user7483 she’s not even pretty wtf

user7483 she’s such a pick me

user3391 And who’s the one leaving hate comments on Y/n L/n post?

user3391 So stfu and get a life 🫶

lissiemackintosh Congrats baby!!🤍

youruser tyyy 🫶

“Hey Charles..what I posted to instagram was okay right?” You ask, looking up at him from your phone, admiring how he looked basking in the sun.

You two hadn’t put out anything official, especially since you hadn’t told anyone- well Pierre knew, and Kika…but that was different.

It was sometimes nice that Charles knew about what happened with you and Pierre, but there were moments that you knew he didn’t fully trust you, which was reasonable!

But you assured him many times you only wanted him, you were tired of being the other woman, tired of empty promises from Pierre, tired of being casted aside.

“Yes it was okay cheri..you don’t need to ask..” Charles says with a chuckle, glancing over at you from his spot.

“Half of the media speculates that we were together anyway..” He adds on.

“Yeah..that’s true” You say with a small chuckle. You continue to scroll through some of the comments, mainly focused on the hate ones.

Charles catches onto that quick, and yanks your phone from your hands. “No need to care what others think..” He says, placing your phone by his, far out of reach from you.

“But…” You start to say, although Charles has you stopping mid sentence with a single look.

“Let’s just relax, yeah? Nice beautiful day out on my yacht okay?” He says with a smile, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to his side.

“Alright..” You mumble out, leaning your head on his shoulder as you two bask in the sun, the rocking of the boat slowly relaxing you.

“Yeah- yeah definitely..” You mumble out, heart racing a bit, you and Charles hadn’t really been intimate, sure you two have kissed but that was really all. You guys have only been together for maybe three months, and to be honest you were scared to do anything- after Pierre.

Mostly because with Pierre it was different, it felt great, amazing even- but it was wrong.

That was the issue, you felt guilty constantly.

“Are you still worried about Pierre?” Charles asks softly, his eyes meeting yours. You instantly feel like you’re on a different planet, his eyes are soothing and warm.

“You can tell me cheri…don’t be afraid….I’m here for you...” Charles adds as he squeezes your hand softly.

“I don’t know Charles…with him I felt so guilty, I felt like I was always the second option..”

“He’d say all these things, promise me he’d tell her and change- but he never did…”

“And I’m happy for him and Kika! I am, they are an amazing couple..but it still hurt, y’know?” You say softly, fidgeting with Charles fingers as you open up to him fully about that situation.

“I know Y/n…it’s understandable..” Charles says softly and wipes away the small tear from your cheek gently. “I will never make you feel like a second option.”

Charles smiles softly and caresses your cheek, it feels nice, it feels like he’s appreciating you for everything you have to offer.

“Thank you..” You whisper out softly with a smile, leaning into his hand.

But the tender moment is ruined- because of course it is. You can hear Charles phone vibrate with a call, and you’d only have one guess as to who it would be.

Charles lets out a sigh, moving away from you to grab his phone, “It’s Pierre..” He grumbles out, quickly answering it and getting up, starting to mutter some phrases in French to Pierre, none of it you could understand- but you did understand that it sounded heated.

After a few minutes the conversation starts to die down, but starts to get heated back up. You could tell Charles wasn’t having any of it.

“Leave us the fuck alone” Charles grumbles out then hangs up, quietly muttering a curse as he sits down next to you.

“What did he want..?” You ask out softly, sitting up. You were unsure what to say- or do. It all felt tense now.

“Don’t worry about it…it’s just Pierre being Pierre” Charles replies with a small sigh, looking out across the ocean and closing his eyes.

Charles looks over and smiles softly and the moment is back, the tension is gone and life is somewhat normal again.

“Alright…” You say with a soft smile, knowing it’s better to forget that, and move on from Pierre.

——

“What time do you think you’ll be back?” You ask Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he puts on his coat.

“I’m not sure cheri…I’ll text you though” He says with a smile, placing a kiss to your lips as he leaves his apartment, going to do some sim work.

You smile to yourself, it was nice with Charles. He was sweet and considerate, it was really nice.

You decide to busy yourself with some extra work you had to get done. Clicking away and your computer you’re pulled out of your daze when you hear a knock at the apartment door.

“Coming!” You say, moving off the couch and to the door opening it.

“Didn’t Charles tell you to leave us alone?” You say as soon as you open the door and see Pierre.

Pierre looks at you with a smug smile, his hands in his pockets, and he leans against the wall. “Well this is awkward…me here, you home alone…” Pierre replies with a smirk, his voice was like butter but there was a hidden underneath.

“Listen you should leave Pierre- what happened between us is in the past..” You say with a sigh.

“You’re with Kika and I’m with Charles, just move on please” You add on.

“Is that so?” Pierre asks raising and eyebrow and he steps in closer to you to close the distance.

“But you know how it is…I have a habit that is hard to break of coming to you when I need a bit of…stress relief.” Pierre replies with a grin, his voice is sultry and you can’t help but get butterflies.

“What we had was regular..I liked it, it’s simpler with you” Pierre adds on with a grin.

“Pierre what we had was a mistake, it can’t be regular anymore! I enjoyed it in the moment, but I felt guilty constantly!”

“You would promise me that you’d tell her, that you would break up with her! But you didn’t! So move on!” You say, your frustration growing.

“Guilt isn’t always a bad thing cheri..” Pierre replies with a smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you towards him, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

“Why do I have to let her go? Why not have more fun with you and keep her?” Pierre asks softly as he places his hand on your neck.

You feel a sick feeling start to form in your stomach, “Why- why are you doing this?” You say, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm away.

“Please just leave me alone Pierre, I don’t want you anymore, I don’t want to be casted aside anymore”

Pierre chuckles. “I like this side of you cheri.. the one where you’re feisty and defensive.” Pierre takes your hand and places it on his chest.

“How can you say you don’t want me when we have such great chemistry..all those times we spent together felt amazing…” Pierre adds on and you notice a smugness in his tone and on his face.

“You’re just jealous Pierre, now fucking get out” You say, moving him towards the door.

Pierre scrunches up his face in annoyance and looks at you. “Okay fine, I’ll leave…but I hope to see you soon cheri.” Pierre replies softly and leaves.

You’re glad he was out of your life now, but a part of you still misses him and the chemistry you two have.

No! No, you have Charles, you like Charles!

You let out a sigh and collapse onto the couch, deciding sleep was a much better option than work.

“Cheri? You awake?” You hear Charles whisper out, you feel his hand brush through your hair.

Charles’ gentle touch was soothing and peaceful, and you start to relax under his touch.

“Mhm…” You mumble out softly and your eyes flutter open. You see the smile on his face and you couldn’t feel anything but content at that moment.

Yeah. You’re happy with Charles.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

notes 🪩: I’m back and taking requests!🫶

taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @peachbly @minkyungseokie @minseok-smaus @zahhh709 @redcloudedelk @itsprashimusic @janeholt3

656 notes · View notes

throwaway-yandere · 1 year

Text

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast (Yandere!Wanderer & Pantalone/Reader)

Commissioned by: @leftdestiny-posts/@eternally-frozen (ilysm. Feel free to kill me later lmao)

unreliable synopsis: After being reassigned to Vanarana when your previous coworker became the Acting Grand Sage, with the help of Ararycan, you reunited met a wanderer on an abandoned machine. Unfortunately for someone, your childhood friend "Pantalone" has ears and eyes everywhere. (Avoid this fic if you’re not a fan of dark content. It’s not too dark but your mental health matters!)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Please use the InteractiveFics extension and change “(Y/n)” to whatever name you want, “[Wanderer]” to his chosen name, and lastly, also change “(wood/salt)” to… whichever option you feel like. It’s a surprise mechanic *wink*. If you're reading this on a phone, just pick between wood or salt right now, keep your choice in mind and commit to it : )

Afterwards, would you be so kind as to answer this fun poll after reading the fic? Danke ♡

“Why doesn't Nara (Y/n) eat what Arasaka prepares for them? Does Nara (Y/n) lack appetite lately?”

“O-Oh, well, that’s…” You paused, looking down at the broth, “in all honesty, your cooking tastes bland…”

“H-Huh?!”

Time had passed since Lesser Lord Kusanali's official ascent to power and now is the fifth month since you first made friends with the Aranaras. Many events took place before you found your pyro vision becoming Arasaka's torch as they cooked– and if any of your coworkers saw you now, they probably wouldn’t identify you as Alhaitham’s (only) friend and Ex-Sage Azar’s lazy employee.

Maybe they would've if you helped Alhaitham and his teammates secure Sumeru’s future.

Sure, your name isn’t listed in the coup d’etat, but that’s only because you wished for the Akademiyan scholars to make the epiphany for themselves. As Azar’s ex-assistant, you laid low from projects as a prerequisite so that the populace may acquire a personality of their own to make the nation truly deserving of the title “Land of Wisdom.”

Alas, that did not happen.

Alhaitham’s tactics were not wrong, but you felt like his group spoonfed Sumeru citizens with the Fatui’s crimes rather than having their own realizations. It did not feel like growth to you. It felt like the people casually learned from a one-sitting textbook rather than a hands-on experiment when they should’ve personally learned how minacious blind ambitions could be. In turn, he argued that your ideas were barbaric and that scholars revolting was not in the realm of possibility– hence, you did not lend your aid. Perhaps your inaction had pissed him off, but it’s more likely that he finds that sending you to Varanara was ideal for his workload.

And in some strange domino effect, refraining from helping a coup d’etat meant eating the tasteless food known to man.

Since you were personally assigned a senseless task to patrol and report weather patterns in the area (which is unnecessary and quite frankly boring), you had befriended the infamous aranaras children from Port Ormos hear stories about.

But the mundanity doesn’t hurt your pride as a graduate scholar. It's been fun so far.

“I'm sorry, 'Saka, it's just that I think your food lacks a bit of salt–"

"ASSISTANT (Y/N), THERE YOU ARE!!!"

Both of you flinched, causing Arasaka to topple over. The sound hurts. You snapped your neck towards the sound. An adventurer– Baharak– stood with both hands wrapped on her bag's shoulder straps with a silly grin on her face.

… You’re turning the setting of your hearing aids down.

“Baharak, it’s been a while,” you spoke. “Would you mind not yelling whenever you call for me?”

“Oops– Sorry (Y/n)! I mean– sorry, Assistant (Y/n).”

Changing her volume doesn’t undo the pain she inflicted on your ears. Gently, you pushed Arasaka behind an elevated jag of root to cover them. To escape suspicion, you continued to stare at Baharak while feigning sleepiness.

“What are you here for?”

“The Forest Watcher received a letter addressed to you. The sender doesn’t have a name again, it just has the coin-seal thing.”

“Please hand it over.”

“Aight!– I mean, alright.”

After dismissing the loud adventurer and giving her spare mora as thanks, you waited until she was out of sight. Arasaka suddenly rose and jumped onto your lap, equally curious about what was written on the salt-scented parchment. Arasaka's preppy manner soon turned sour as they discovered who the sender was.

It’s a letter from your best friend, "Pantalone".

“Aww…” Arasaka whined. “Arasaka was hoping it was the Verdant Nara instead.”

You tore it open.

"My dearest, (Y/n),

If it's not too much to ask, may I trouble you to visit my office in Northland Bank soon? I merely wish to see you. Spending Lantern Rite alone this year was not a pleasant experience. It's just for a mere chat- I'll reimburse your traveling and dining expenses. Care to make it up to me?

Your beloved,

As per tradition, you threw the letter in the fireplace. Pantalone doesn’t like leaving a trail of evidence, naturally, you assumed the same applies here.

It's never a chore to visit a friend. Maybe you'll head there tomorrow–

“Arasaka doesn’t like Nara Pantalone.”

The aranara lowered their head, continuing, “Nara Pantalone reminds Arasaka of the Taste of Sadness.”

Cute.

Every time Pantalone comes to visit, the aranaras behave like envious little siblings. Ever since you started patrolling Vanarana, the place had become the harbinger’s premiere leisure destination. The woods critters frequently tried to undermine his gifts, but they were adorably ineffective. Even if Pantalone cannot see them, the situation is nonetheless amusing.

If you remember correctly, the Taste of Sadness means salt to aranaras, right?

“Ah, well,” you laughed. “I guess you must be incredibly sensitive to his smell. He took quite a liking to salt-infused perfumes last year.”

“Don’t like perfume.”

“But I am wearing one though… Has the scent been bothering you all this time, Arasaka?”

“No, Arasaka was wrong. Arasaka likes perfume, and Arasaka hates salt. Taste of sadness. The scent of sadness.”

“Oh, no! If Pantalone’s smell makes my dear Arasaka sad, then maybe we should drown him in Varunastra,” you chuckled darkly, expecting the aranara to react loudly over your out-of-pocket remark.

“Of course. Salt Nara would make for decent spare rations!”

You laughed out loud at Arasaka’s even more out-of-pocket reply. Out-of-pocket is an understatement, that comment straight up sounded out-of-the-CASKET.

Before standing up, you ruffled Arasaka’s nonexistent hair like you would with your deceased sisters.

“I’ll come back in a few days, okay? In the meantime, why don’t you read a cookbook?”

“Hmph! Nara (Y/n), you’re being mean! Just wait! My sisters will make a dish Nara (Y/n) can’t say “no” to!”

“It’s a dumb risk.”

“It’s a new business venture, dearest.”

“The market for new eyeglasses isn’t going to rise any time soon.”

“Why are you so adamant on opposing this idea?”

“Stagnation breeds putrefaction, especially in business, does it not?” You raised an eyebrow, preparing for a harangue.

“Je suis d’accord!” The man spoke softly, accentuating his Fontaine pronunciation somewhat boastfully. Knowing your disability, he never raises his voice to the point of it hurting. “And it is precisely why I want to invest in an eyewear conglomerate in Sumeru.”

“Then why are you dropping your prior investments?!”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You sighed, annoyed.

Pantalone is an amazing businessman, but without your council, he wouldn’t amount to who he is now. Unlike most people, “sneakily ambitious” are not the words you would describe your visionless friend. Such a moniker sounds insulting given his lack of celestial blessings and you know Celestia itself never took kindly towards his well-versed dirty tricks against his opponents.

In your humble opinion, the term “industrious” is a better-suited and less backhanded compliment for him.

You’ve known Pantalone— no— “██████” since childhood. Your history stretched back so much that you no longer recall the circumstances of how you befriended him. He acted as your ears when it came to haggling and normal day-to-day chores. As far as you know, he has always been an older brother to you. In times of extreme poverty, you both prayed and starved together, scraping by using salt rocks as entrees.

There was no one else that made your deafness bearable except for him. With no family left, he was your only beacon of hope and dear Morax– you’d rather not remind yourself of the time your dead sisters mistakenly ate mud for rice cakes when famine struck.

You chose Amurta out of the Six Great Schools for a reason:

You can’t afford to watch anyone die of hunger ever again.

When you began living in Sumeru, you had pledged your alliance with the region but never forgot all the toil you had to go through. As a malnourished child, you quickly fell in love with the nation. In Sumeru, healthcare was free– in Liyue? You heard nothing, and you wished that “advantage” doesn’t make you blind from the evil you witnessed in the slums. Poverty ate away your hearing, your family, and your childhood dreams…

In a way, the only reason you see aranaras in the first place may be that you didn’t have the chance to experience any childlike wonder until you escaped Liyue.

Pantalone scoffed, “whether you agree with my financial decision or not doesn't affect my resolve. Do not press more about this, dearest.”

… But you’re convinced that your closest confidant “██████” had already perished from starvation long ago.

The man before you calls himself “Pantalone” nowadays and you lose all sense of indolence whenever his presence looms. When he watched your last sister perish in your arms, an epiphany gave birth to his cold demeanor towards deities. He found it challenging to worship the Archons who had no need for mora but were eager to take it away from destitute mortals who needed it as you and your sisters did. The death of your younger sibling was his final straw, and in a sense, you also buried your old friend that night.

Unlike ██████, Pantalone cannot forgive nor trust the Archons for their broken promises. If Lesser Lord Kusanali had abandoned withered forests, Rex Lapis had abandoned those whose blood and tears cannot amount to any mora. You were only allowed to study at the Akademiya after he decided the former was the lesser evil.

Although Pantalone never condemns you for calling him by his birth name, you cannot tell yourself that he and ██████ are fully the same person. There is an unspoken need to straighten your posture and greet him with a semi-scowl to demonstrate your maturity despite him acting cozy and warm. Worse, his lax demeanor never ceases to remind you that despite his uncomfortable reputation, Pantalone is the only companion you’d entrust your soul to even when the world warns you not to deal a contract with the devil.

“You just want to use new brackets every day—”

“I am a businessman, love.”

You speared Pantalone with a pointed look.

“—And why Sumeru? Have you landed a deal with a reputable Amurtan optician? And why didn’t you ask ME first? You weren’t cornered by Dottore or the Tianquan to kickstart an eyeglasses company, were you?”

He scowled, unamused before firing back without skipping a beat.

“Summer, seven years ago. You accidentally bought six bunraku puppets from Inazuma—”

Your eyes widened. Not this embarrassing anecdote again.

“Woah, woah! Now, why are YOU extorting me?”

“So you’d be silenced quicker.”

“…”

This reticence was slowly exasperating the harbinger, but he never utters a complaint when you're whom he's conversing with. Pantalone cleared his throat with an elegant smile. In that moment of cessation, you figured that he had a seemingly innocent proposal in mind.

“(Y/n), my most dearest baobei…” The harbinger ventured.

“Pantalone…”

He pulled out his desk drawer and ferreted out a parcel that you suspect contains a pair of glasses.

“Would you care to be a test sub—”

“No.”

You have a gut feeling as to where this is going. He’s going to propose that it’s “just” glasses until you find out he’s been using you to track or spy on someone without your knowledge. Classic Pantalone. You won't be duped by that TWICE in a row. If you knew better, you wouldn’t have accidentally leaked intel to the Fatui that Katheryne was being controlled by the Lord of Verdure. All because Pantalone hid a recorder on one of his “gifted” hearing aids...

Listen— just because you refused to lend a hand to the Archon when she was in need and was subsequently confronted by the 2nd harbinger in Sumeru City doesn’t mean you were colluding with these fools.

You just wanted to remain neutral in any given situation. Unlike your childhood friend, politics bore you to death. And just like the Acting Grand Sage, you’re too lazy to act as a beta tester no matter how minimal the effort the task requires.

“I only ask that you wear this pair of glasses and test its comfortability.”

“I refuse.”

“We can negotiate how much mora you’ll earn—”

“Just stop.”

“Hmm, if I phrase it as a “gift”, would you accept—”

“Hell no.”

Pantalone paused.

“Hmm…” He tapped his desk, gazing at the paperwork neatly piled up.

“Word of advice, (Y/n), it’s highly probable that the price of cocoa will rise next week,” he shrugged. “That fact is, of course, most definitely unrelated to our current discussion.”

Is he…

Is he threatening to generate chocolate inflation over a pair of glasses?!

You scoffed, eyes wide.

“██████, you worthless SCALPER.“

“The majority prefer to call me a ‘regrator’, but that new nickname is acceptable as long as it is you who makes such mildly unpleasant utterances.”

“GAH! You— YOU—” Even though he may completely ruin your usual routine of buying chocolates after work, it's difficult to curse him out. You have no choice but to spout illogical syllables without a valid clause. “JUST— YOU!!! YOU.”

Smack.

Upon hearing your facepalm resoundingly, he laughed uncontrollably, removing his glasses to wipe his eye with an uneven grin on his face. He tried to keep his composure but he kept snorting.

You took a peek between your fingers. What a precious noise. You haven’t heard him laugh like this for over three years now.

At that moment, you thought ██████ was alive.

“F-Fine— give me those damn eyeglasses.”

Pantalone drifted the parcel above your palm until he quickly retracted it as soon as you reached forward.

“But before I do that, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it this time?” You groaned.

“Don’t lend it to anyone else, understand?” Pantalone slightly ruffled your hair. “I had it custom-made for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “that thing is definitely wiretapped. You’re not even bothering to hide it anymore.”

“Oh no, it’s not just that—”

“Just that?”

He shrugged smugly, which was not a good sign.

“The eyeglasses function similar to an Akasha Terminal, but of course, the information you’d find there is directly from my database.”

Pantalone opened the box and swiftly put the white-framed glasses on your face. He lightly tapped the frame—

and a control panel window flickered open.

Just like an Akasha.

“H-How on earth—”

“The Doctor and I had a deal. He’ll recreate at least 80% of a regular Akasha’s functions while I help him track down a few… crops. It’s a quid pro quo, I promise. It’s less of him exploiting me and more of me exploiting…— well, that doesn’t matter right now. C’mere, let me see your lovely face...”

Pantalone tilted your chin up with his thumb. His face was inches away from yours, and his piercing lilac eyes observed your glasses and what was behind them, calculating. His breathing was notably strained in a subconscious attempt to make you feel less uncomfortable from the position he trapped you in— ever the perfect gentleman— but you see his entire face flushed in a pinkish hue. A few seconds have passed, and you feel the glove pressed against you twitching.

Pantalone pulled away, shoulders stiff.

His ears were red.

“I-It’s working as intended.”

If not for the nature of your relationship, you were close enough to kiss– an appealing notion for the harbinger, yet it is not a move he should bring himself to try.

“Y-Yeah, no kidding. That was awkward.”

He gripped his arm, looking at the window.

Pantalone is painfully aware you think of him as an older brother. Or at least, the shadow of one, given how you rarely call him by name anymore.

“My apologies, I simply wanted to take a good look at you.'

He muttered, “you’ve grown into a gorgeous person, (Y/n).”

You didn’t hear him.

“██████– I mean, Pantalone–”

“Go back to calling me ██████, dear.”

“Pantalone.” You put more emphasis on his harbinger name, watching in glee as he rolled his eyes, “I expect to be paid in chocolates and at least two months’ worth of food.”

Indeed, your proposed exchange pleased him. ██████ knows how much you value healthy eating and abhor it greatly when others waste grains of rice. Time and imagination had transformed his early memories as you as a human so close to a skeletal figurine with sunken cheeks and broomstick-like limbs. Those thoughts cause him much sorrow. Pantalone would have pampered you for free if you had only let him– seeing you eating healthy gives him life. Almost like how a father would tell his children that seeing them full is enough to make him full as well.

Let him spoil you with food. Please.

Seeing you thin makes him feel sad.

“What do you want to eat for dinner later? My treat, as always.”

“Mint salad sounds lovely.”

“Just mint salad?” Pantalone smiled thinly.

His dearest baobei, no longer skin and bones. No longer barely fueled by rice and salt. No longer skipping meals. It warms his heart more than the exclusive springs offered to him because of his mora and title… But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“Hmm… Would it be okay to request a plate of Triple-Layered Consommé?” You muttered, gazing at the floor. “I kind of miss your cooking… Just. Just kind of.”

His heart skipped a few beats as he saw your shy expression.

You straightened up, coughing, “not that your cooking is anything special, it’s just that I don’t want to eat anything too bland and–”

“Of course! Anything for you, my love.”

Pantalone grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“My baobei, you’d be too full to walk once I’m done spoiling you…”

“D-Did you have to word it so seductively?!”

You blushed once again, which only served to worsen his urge for making you undeniably satiated.

Oh, how he wants to keep you in a cage, locked up, and fed until he’s satisfied that you’ll never starve again…

Maybe then, you’d let him spoon-feed you like years before...

There's no rest for the wicked. When you returned to Vanarana the next day, the aranaras pulled you in for another chore at Devantaka Mountain.

“Hey, little man, get down there, right now!”

You screamed with your hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your voice. The aforementioned "small man" scoffed, not shifting an inch from his posture, as the blue aranara crept up behind you.

Ararycan worriedly relayed that a “Wood Nara” had been trespassing the large abandoned Khaenri’ahn machine. The little vegetable-like creature had grown to trust you when it came to scaring off unwanted guests, which usually entailed eremites or treasure hoarders scavenging for scrap metal.

“Ararycan wants to stop Wood Nara.”

You gently pried the wire off their hand, keeping it in your pocket in a very definite fashion.

“I know, ‘Rycan, but Naras are stubborn beings.”

“Just like Nara (Y/n)?”

You gasped, eyes widened.

These plant-like beings are surprisingly masterful at the art of roasting.

“Just like Nara (Y/n), you say?! Rude, Ararycan, rude.”

You laughed humorlessly, masking your jadedness with forced laughter.

In all honesty, you’re inclined to believe that this job reassignment was Alhaitham’s way of punishing you for remaining neutral. But surprisingly? An Amurta alumnus like you have been enjoying the task and in no small part thanks to these silly little creatures.

It's absurd to imagine that you would consent to be pulled by these vegetable creatures. You initially believed that they were paracosms produced by a lack of stimulation. You once tried to ignore them. Regrettably, that frail facade didn't survive due to a couple of slip-ups. The first to catch you drawing their likenesses next to your weather reports was Arapas. The second was Arabalika, who overheard you whispering about how powerful they were after they defeated a ruin grader, and then Arama who heard you humming their songs. They’ve built up quite the case against you, and you had to fess up before they start giving you a hard time.

By “hard time”, you were referring to how a crowd of tumultuous aranaras huddled up and tugged your hearing aids’ wire with their teeny hands incessantly.

Which was what Ararycan is doing right now.

“Get us up there, Nara (Y/n).”

"Careful, Rycan– you might damage the wire."

Suddenly, the hatted man's eyes widened after seeing you. Call it intuition, but it seemed like this total stranger knew who you were.

You made an exaggeratedly loud inhaling sound, turning off your hearing aids momentarily.

And then, a scream.

“STOP, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!! RIGHT!!! NOW!!!”

The difference between stupidity and bravery is measured by outcome, and neither are variables you wish for this “Wood Nara” to test out. Alhaitham would have you write two pages detailing an incident if the stranger broke something and eight more if the machine awakened. And sadly, you are only a small percent less lazy than that man.

Despite your words droning childishly, you made no move to approach him. His eyes sharpened, but you felt no scrutiny—

This man you’ve never met wore a blatant look of disbelief.

You looked down.

Maybe he could see Ararycan…?

“Hey— can you see them?”

You swiftly swept Ararycan off the ground, who made a surprised yelp.

The man winced.

"P-Please… Leave the forest alone…"

"And why should I care about your pathetic request?"

"Please, have mercy… T-There are creatures that live in this area… Creatures you cannot see because you lacked a human heart."

“–Ngh!”

Those memories were hard to swallow, like reading an inked sloppy handwriting submerged in water.

“G-Good riddance…”

The man coiled in pain, gripping his scalp with his lithe fingers. You cannot view the expression on his face, nor were you able to verify that he had yelped. The distance between you two was too great to conceive a communication that did not rely on shouting.

“Nara (Y/n), what are you doing?!”

Although your proximity with the aranara doesn’t cause any communication barriers, that didn’t stop Ararycan from yelling.

For some reason, the stranger flinched after seeing you carry what appeared to be air around “normal people”’s vision. Perhaps he found your actions cringe-inducing… or perhaps it made his migraine worse. Then again, both possibilities are not mutually exclusive. However, you have a feeling he didn’t flinch because he saw Ararycan.

The blue aranara leaped off of your hands.

“Ararycan is worried… Ararycan thinks Wood Nara is going to destroy the giant iron mountain…”

You stared up at the man again, wanting to go on for a long rant but refrained after realizing how immature that is. While you do have a hunch that the stranger possessed a vision, you’d bet mora that he is no match for Arabalika’s accumulated Ararakalari.

“Say, why do you keep calling him Wood Nara? Is it because of his ginormous hat?” You whispered to Ararycan.

“Huh? Did Nara (Y/n) not notice?” They tilted their head.

“Ararycan calls him “Wood Nara” because he’s made of white wood. Ararycan is not sure if he is a real Nara.”

Their answer entered from one ear and exited in the other. You’re used to hearing the Aranara lexicon that you never take any sentence at face value since you’ve learned your lesson back when Arasaka made you scout the market for a “Taste of Happiness.” Thank the Lord of Verdure that it was only Pantalone who laughed at you for describing sugar as “white, cubic, crumbles when crushed, becomes sand, and can be eaten.”

“Hah, well, he better not be made out of wood 'cause I might burn him.”

“Ararycan doesn’t think that’s easy to do. Wood Nara smells like the taste of anger,” once again, you ignored their riddled words.

You clutched the pyro vision dangling in your cloak’s right shoulder, located opposite where Alhaitham places his. Your skill set does not differ from that dendro user’s repertoire, and you calculated what vertice you should drop upon teleporting. Grabbing Ararycan, you rushed forward...

Without making it past the one-minute mark, you leaped effortlessly to where the stranger stood.

“Excuse me, young man, but do you have an Investigation Charter from the Akademiya?”

With an unused voice when it comes to dishing out commands– much less an implied threat– your approach wasn’t even a fraction of what makes authorities like the General Mahamatra intimidating. Yet, you still tried. You crossed your arms and hovered your hand near your claymore.

This stranger gazed up, boasting his soft face and beautiful lilac eyes topped with a complexion quite like a sheltered princess. He had the finest eyes you had ever seen. Yet, even with a heaven-sent face, his eyebrows were knitted. He continued kneeling on the cold metal of the giant mossed and corroded machine.

One closer look should’ve made you hyper-aware that his joints were not bound by mortal flesh, but your heart was more entranced by his glassy pupils.

“We meet again. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

He muttered inaudibly, hence, you did not hear him. Since you also just came back from visiting Liyue and their post-festival fireworks, you’ve turned your hearing aid settings lower than usual. You bent your knees slightly, offering a hand.

“Nana korobi ya oki,” you said. The stranger looked like he hailed from Inazuma, so you thought you’d put your knowledge to good use. “It means–”

Unbeknownst to you, you uttered the same thing in a past long forgotten.

“I know: fall down seven times, get up eight.”

His gloved hand grasped your own, and you tried not to think about how soft yet firm it was as you pulled him up. You grunted slightly from the shifted weight while he didn’t breathe at all.

“No, I don’t have any clearance permit,” he said. “And I still don't have a heart, if that still matters to you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

‘Still’? What the hell is he talking about? Aaru village is miles away from here, but is it possible that the man you’re talking to is a mad scholar? That’s concerning.

Pushing your glasses farther up the bridge of your nose, you tried to search his face in Sumeru's records– which might be more unlawful than whatever this man's doing, but who's policing you anyways?

…

Nothing.

There's not a single official record on this man.

Not even in the Fatui's database.

Almost like the man in front of you doesn't exist.

"What the hell are you wearing?" The man sneered. "Since when did you have awful eyesight too?"

“No Investigation Charter, no clearance, just what do you think you’re doing here?” You digressed. “May I at least have your name?”

The man tilted his hat up, “and why should I stupidly give my information away?”

Your eye twitched. He kinda reminds you of Arabalika. Maybe if you gave him a cane he’ll calm down a bit.

“I do have a use for your name, awkward stranger.”

“And that is?”

Writing a report to the Acting Grand Sage regarding suspicious individuals.

“Something to call you,” you shrugged with a child-like candor, renewing your request with bold obstinacy. “I’d rather not recount this tale to various parties as That One Time An Awful Little Man Tried To Pry Open A Giant Machine And Failed.”

He exhaled curtly.

… Was that a laugh?

“How childish. Even if you don't know my name, your "friends"– assuming you have some– will remember me by that stupid description.”

“I mean, it's a memorable first impression,” you met his gaze smugly. “But why are you hiding your name, hmm? Suspicious.”

“It’s called respecting one’s privacy. Something you don't understand.”

How rude of him to make assumptions about you, “are you some covert government official?”

“No.”

“Then what? Are you some inhuman being?”

“...” He didn’t say a word.

Something tells you that the answer is close to your hunch.

“[Wanderer].”

He muttered, once again, you did not hear it so he spoke louder.

“That's my name. Don't you dare make me repeat it.”

“[Wanderer]…”

You missed the way he tipped his hat, hiding an uncontrollable smile from your view.

[Wanderer]... That does sound like a fitting name. It reminded you of a character from a franchise or mythological tale you thoroughly enjoyed as a teenager. It might be rude to share that information, though. You’re not certain how this bratty person would react upon hearing that his name might as well be the name of your lotus from a botany class.

Normally, [Wanderer] would snap a “speak up– is there something wrong with my name?” upon listening to hushed whispers or a resounding silence after his many introductions. But you’re different for a reason.

There was no way in hell he would take the traveler's suggestion over a name you had given him.

Ararycan tugged your pants.

“Hey, don’t just stare at him, Nara (Y/n)! Tell him to leave!!!” Araycan trashed around. “Nara (Y/n) must be a brave Nara if you like the taste of anger.”

[Wanderer] is the taste of anger? Is that what Ararycan was trying to say?

You blushed, fake-coughing behind your hand.

You wouldn’t say he reminds you of the taste of anger– especially with that winsome face. If anything, his appearance looks a lot like the bunraku dolls you accidentally bought years ago.

“Well, [Wanderer], it’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” you said. “But this is a dangerous area. What are you doing here…?”

“I just wanted to look for traces of the Doctor,” [Wanderer] crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I can’t pry this stupid machine open.”

“The Doctor? Who’s that?”

“The Harbinger who sits at the second–”

“Aah, The Outcast. I see–” you shook your head. “Wait, no, I don’t get it. What does he have anything to do with this machine here? This is a Khaenriah’n creation.”

“I know, I’m not dumb like you. I'm here because The Doctor had plans for these automatons, that’s why I’m here.”

“But even so, it’s not advisable to wander these parts alone. You ought to have asked for a travel companion. Who knows if you run into a hoard of vanaagnis in marana?”

“Hmph. Do you think I can’t handle a few whooperflowers in a withering zone? The audacity.”

“Arrogance is the capital stock of misfortune– wait, how’d you know Vanaagnis is a term for whooperflowers?” You blinked expressively. “And the meaning of marana too– so you ARE a mad scholar.”

“I’m NOT,” [Wanderer] glared. You noticed how he seemed unimpressed when you mentioned that proverb about arrogance and “capital stock”, and his expression soured more when you accused him of being a lunatic.

“I just… I just learned from the best.”

[Wanderer]'s stare not wavering away from you.

Your silence did not go unnoticed by the other two.

“...Why do I have a feeling you’re trying to say that you’ve learned from me?” Those words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

[Wanderer]’s eyes widened.

“Can… Can you remember?”

“Remember…?”

He frowned, eyes reflecting his disappointment.

“No, no, it’s probably just a fluke,” [Wanderer] frowned with a finger tracing his lips. “Maybe my expression just gave it away…”

“Nara (Y/n)!!! Tell Wood Nara to leeaaaaveee!!!”

You tried not to flinch at Ararycan’s whining. They don’t seem to understand that having poor hearing doesn’t mean you can’t register their commands.

[Wanderer] walked past you.

“Fine, I’ll leave this device alone, but on one condition.”

“What makes you think you’re the one in control–”

“Go out with me.”

“...”

“... What?”

Your eyeglasses flickered red.

But that red light was gone in a blink, you weren't even sure if it existed.

You laughed nervously, “sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly–”

He refused to meet your eyes like a coward.

[Wanderer] replied brusquely, “look– you're partially deaf, but you’re NOT stupid. You heard what I said, so own it.”

"Hold on– where is all this coming from, [Wanderer]?" You pivoted your heel but were too late to yank his sleeve.

He already hovered a few feet away from you.

"I'll come to visit this place more often," [Wanderer] smirked. "You’ll still be here at the upcoming Festival, right? Mark your calendar. That’s our date.”

“Hey, you can’t just!– Aaand he’s gone.”

Despite his abrupt parting, you couldn’t help but smile over such a cheeky encounter, completely forgetting how that man rummaged through the giant machine you’re standing on without a permit.

Something tells you that you’d see him more often.

And you did.

“[Wanderer]” never failed to visit you at 10 AM sharp every day, until there was only one day left till the next Sumeru Festival. At first, you thought his eccentric personality would make the following days unbearable, but he was rather civil– just sharp-tongued.

He would show up whenever you wandered in the forest to disseminate knowledge about the local flora and Sumeru's history. Some of them you already knew, while others had you wondering if he knew the Lord of Verdure. While you were trying to interview him for a report, not as a trespasser but as an assistant, you once purposely lightened the atmosphere to get honest responses from him. When you jokingly asked who he was, his reply was unsatisfactory.

“Who I am is not carved in wood nor stone. ᏕᎧᎷᏋᎧᏁᏋ wise told me that it’s a flexible concept and it’s easier to understand through a story, but even then, you’d only see a fraction of who that person is,” [Wanderer] peered dotingly. “If you wish to know who I am, then work for it. I’m not giving you a damn summary.”

Tomorrow is your first "date" with the man and you barely knew him.

Your internalized frustration made him think you’re insatiably adorable.

How the tables have turned.

After all, [Wanderer] only responded with the same answer you had given him before.

In a forgotten history, ᎩᎧᏬ were the one that spouts spontaneous philosophical questions that led him into fits of unintelligible musings. [Wanderer] berated humanity for being sentimental creatures yet look at him now, proudly boasting the name ᎩᎧᏬ gave him wherever he went. It is by no means grander than a title like God of Everlasting Eternity or other such monikers, but when Godhood has stripped away from him, that name provided more solace than a seat in Celestia.

“The Puppet”, “Kunikuzushi”– such utterances are water under the bridge. Only [Wanderer] stays afloat, like a bubble on water. Maybe a bubble is only beautiful for a moment, yet that moment weighs more than a meaningless “eternity” and he knows this well…

[Wanderer] had been played by fate. Attaining freedom, independence, and a vision did not absolve what chokehold you had on his synthetic being.

You're a colorful character, averaging about five meaningful papers per year– all the while considering yourself a "retired" genius. [Wanderer] would've been a kinder and forgiving person if you were his young and impressionable self's creator. He envied your patients, your strange collection of bunraku dolls, and the tenderness you reserve for them.

He missed you, no matter how often you both fought. Your hums used to enchant him when you lull him asleep with aranara songs, but they now haunt him up at night. You were his puppet and he was your dictator until you had grown exhausted of foreign power enough that you abandoned your neutrality and revolted.

But you did not revolt against him in this revision. Without a doubt, his revised “past” still mirrored the pain he caused, but through other means. He can’t say he had no regrets when he tampered with the Irminsul. Niwa’s death had less weight in this world, and for the wanderer, death without sanctification for a significant purpose is unnecessary homicide. And instead of helping Azar’s experiment, you became a “disobedient pet” who saw no need to collaborate with his superiority complex.

Yet, despite being such a disobedient pet– in his opinion, that’s a grave understatement–, he can’t help but cherish you.

The puppet missed the way his delusion marked your body. Fingerprint-like blotches collared your neck before, but when the slate was wiped clean, so too did his inflicted bruises. He missed the way you begged him to stop the pain. He missed the way you defended invisible creatures as “Queen Aranyani’s successor.” He missed the way you begged to keep the forest safe.

He missed the way you begged to be his.

But those marks are long gone– the symbol he carved on the nape of your neck had disappeared. You no longer had anything that resembled signs of his ownership.

Not only that, but seeing you wear eyeglasses– something you haven't before– fills him with anger.

The one saving grace from this situation was when this timeline confirmed that you wouldn’t help Azar if it wasn’t for [Wanderer]. You were interested in his personality and disposition as a puppet longing for a human heart, not just any of Dottore’s run-of-the-mill creations. That observation surely boosted his ego.

Your opinions mattered to him most in that project. Admittedly, he craved everyone’s veneration, even when they lacked true understanding.

But you were the first mortal that made him appreciate his defects…

"Is it so bad to live this way?" You combed his hair with your fingers. "Must you try your hand with such heresy?"

"Know your place," Scaramouche gritted his teeth. "You're nothing more than my maintenance worker- you do not deserve an audience."

"Be that as it may, future faux-god, can't you entertain me for just a moment? If I wasn't worried about you, I wouldn't be helping you with this damn treacherous experiment.

You ignored how he snarled at such a nickname, "it pains me to watch you lust for more power when you already boast an acceptable form. What is it that makes you so desperate? Is it because you can't hide the ball joints that connect your fingers and limbs?"

You continued while adjusting the tightness of his skeletal wrists.

"Is it so bad to live on as a defective being? Does imperfection invalidate a life's purpose? I only ask out of curiosity. I have imperfect ears, so does that make my life devoid of meaning?"

Scaramouche frowned, "do not compare your ears to my heart or lack thereof."

He didn't understand why his voice cracked. Scaramouche did not feel his usual temperament sizzling over but something heavy resided in his chest.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know you're not sorry," Scaramouche cupped your cheek, sporting an uncharacteristically loving smile.

"And your unapologetic behavior is what makes you my first sage."

His first sage…

[Wanderer] laughed to himself.

His first sage would know that if he gained a heart, he would've seen the aranara you were talking to earlier.

But this is fine. He can start over again.

This time, he’ll make you love him normally.

Heaven, please help the white wood that fell in love for it will never be human…

…

Out of the blue, Scaramouche spun and hurled three consecutive wind blades toward the woods with precision.

Be that as it may, the walking salt is surely more pathetic.

The “trees” grunted, but [Wanderer] did not miss the smell of salt-infused perfumes.

What a shame.

The next Sumeru Festival, your “date”, is tomorrow, yet there will always be those who lurk in the shadows to see the mighty fall.

"Pantalone…"

The ex-sixth harbinger snarled with unfathomable familiarity. Which was the complete opposite of the ninth harbinger, who coldly greeted him like a new enemy.

"Good afternoon, [Wanderer]."

Pantalone pulled out a gun from his hidden holster.

"No hard feelings, sir," the businessman smiled thinly. "I am but a simple man eliminating a love rival. You see, it’s not nice threatening to steal someone’s possession."

Scaramouche cackled.

How annoying. He never liked this friend of yours– he much preferred the one that planned a coup. Pantalone was not a coworker Scaramouche liked, much less a rival. This ambitious man was always a parasite, pretending to be worried while threatening to withhold project funding behind your back. Scaramouche will never forget how he boasted insolently that he had known you longer as if eternity wouldn't be enough to make up for it.

"You never change, mortal," he laughed even harder. "I knew something was off about (Y/n)'s glasses!"

"Hmm? Is that so?" Pantalone pushed them up closer– reminding Scaramouche that he’s no terrible shot. "How strange. In any case, I quite frankly don't care what you know or do not know."

He pulled the trigger as Scaramouche stomped his feet.

Only a few knew what occurred in Vanarana that day, but there was one thing the forest remembered.

Before either of them parted, a loud bang echoed that even deaf trees can't miss.

You woke up from Araja’s house (which was the only comfortable place to sleep in Vanarana) after passing out from tumultuous loads of paperwork sent directly by the Baharak. She joked that at that point, maybe she had become a bad omen for you– and you confirmed her suspicions. The tasks the Acting Grand Sage laid out for you were taxing, if not, deleterious for your mental well-being, and worst of all–

He sent a notice that this would be your last week patrolling Vanarana.

When you spread the announcement, the aranaras were saddened by the news. Even Arabalika was unimpressed and asked if you can prolong your services. Alas, it can’t be refuted.

Noticing how tired you appeared, the village chief immediately commanded you to sleep while you pretended not to hear whispers of a surprise farewell party. Considering how the place looked positively empty this morning, you’d wager that they’re busy working on it.

But you do smell that someone’s cooking right now…

The enticing scent emanated from a large pot. As you sauntered closer, you noticed how Arasaka was tending to the food. The aranara gave you a friendly wave that you didn’t reciprocate. It’s rather chilly in Vanarana in the mornings– and the sleeves of your jacket were comfy.

“Good morning, Nara (Y/n)!”

“Good morning, ‘Saka. That smells delicious,” you smiled bittersweetly.

“Hehe, really? Glad to hear it! One of Nara (Y/n)’s friends helped gather the ingredients. That Nara was good at hunting down prey!”

One of your friends…? You haven't introduced a lot of people to the aranaras. That can only mean it's either Baharak, Pantalone, or [Wanderer], and you can safely remove the first one since they're positively busy with guild matters.

... Huh. But those two can't see aranaras. Does that mean they stole Pantalone or [Wanderer]'s game?

"Pfft..." You chortled. Yeah, imagining either of them getting confused as to why their hunted boar had gone missing feels like a sight to see.

You took the ladle from Arasaka’s hand and sipped the warm liquid.

…

“Oh, hey, this tastes pretty good!”

“Hehe, Arasaka is glad to hear you liked it! Nara taste buds are hard to please.”

You took another sip as Arasaka watched. The warm soup went down smoothly, but the aftertaste had a serpent-like bite to it. It tastes akin to red sorghums Pantalone would down whenever social drinking was inevitable. Your only critique was that it would’ve been a refreshing experience if there wasn’t a rocky object stuck between your teeth. You awkwardly picked it out.

… And saw a small hint of (wood/salt) between your fingers.

You stared at Arasaka.

Strange…

Something feels… off.

This doesn't taste like happiness, it tastes like…

You shivered and yet the aranaras around you still had that same painted smile.

"Does Nara (Y/n) like the taste now? The taste of friendship?”

… Friendship?

No. That can’t be it.

The spoon splashed back into the bowl. You didn’t say a word, only stared at the boiling pot. You knelt, grabbing both handles to gaze upon the bubbling red liquid. With trembling hands, you picked the spoon back up and swirled the contents. Nothing was of note–

Until you scooped something from the very bottom and found thick strands of dark hair.

A very familiar strand of dark hair.

You adjusted your glasses in an attempt to find out where this human hair came from–

“Nara (Y/n) likes the scent of (wood/salt) Nara so my sisters added him in!” Arasaka innocently cheered.

Your heart dropped.

You turned pale– gagging.

No. It can't be.

Did you just eat…

“So, Nara (Y/n)– does our cooking taste bland now?”

… “him”?

“Oh, Nara (Y/n)’s friend is approaching! Don’t forget to thank him for the food!”

1K notes · View notes

redocity · 1 month

Note

Hiii i love your writing!! Currently keeping me alive 😩 im begging for some angst hurt to comfort. Maybe something involving abby but ultimately a happy ending?

MOVING ON - E.BUCKLEY

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby’s apartment, except it’s not exactly that easy.

WARNINGS: buck has a minor breakdown oops, minor abby slander, happy ending

buck x fem!reader II hurt/comfort Il 2.3k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! і love writing angsty stuff

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Buck had finally decided that he’d had enough.

He wasn’t going to wait for Abby to come home anymore. He needed to move on. It’d been almost five months since she’d left, and five months of the team trying to convince him she wasn’t coming back.

He’d given up trying to convince them all that their relationship was just ‘unconventional’ by now, and after a particularly lonely Friday night he decided it was time to make a move.

"Can you believe it? After five months? I’m finally moving out of her apartment." Buck lugs a half filled cardboard box over to the dining table, dropping it down with a thud.

“I’m proud’a you,” You tap his shoulder with your hand as an indication for him to move, laughing with a roll of your eyes. “Glad you actually got to this point,”

He makes no resistance to your silent instruction, shifting to lean his back against a clear area of the table and watching as you rifle through the box to properly organise his horrible packing job. "I know you were all sick of me moaning about her. I still can’t believe she just up and left me like that."

“It was definitely a dick move, but if we’re being honest here she didn’t deserve you anyway,” You wave off his unspoken apology for talking your ear off for the last few months with your hand.

“I just thought we were really something you know? Then she up and leaves out of nowhere,” Buck sighs. He was sick of her, he was sick of the fact she’d left him with nothing but a half-arsed explanation and an empty promise of them staying in touch.

But sometimes he can’t help but reminisce on how she used to make him feel and believe that maybe she really was going to come home. “She was supposed to be the one, I can’t believe I was so stupid."

“Unfortunately Buck,” You reach over the table to grab the packing tape, it making a harsh noise as you rip off a piece to tape the - now neatly organised - box. “That how real dating works,”

"No, this wasn’t ‘real’ dating. Real dating doesn’t involve her leaving after she said I could move in, she didn’t even say a real goodbye, I had to find out that she wasn’t coming back from an Instagram post of her kissing some random guy in Thailand." Buck’s voice plainly displayed his emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, but it was just so hard to get her out of his head when he really thought that their relationship was going somewhere.

“Head up mister,” You tap your middle and index fingers against the underside of his chin with a sigh. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea,”

Buck laughed exasperatedly. He hated that quote, it always felt so insincere. Then again that was probably because he’s used it so many times in the past when turning down his previous hookups who wanted a more serious relationship.

Now he was on the other end of it, and it just felt ironic.

“You just don’t get it, we were a perfect match for each other,” Buck exhales dramatically, turning his head up to the ceiling. "She was beautiful. She was kind. She was smart. Our sex life was perfect, she was exactly who I was looking for but she left. She just up and left."

“It happens unfortunately,” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “Especially with someone who was dealing with so many personal issues like she was,” You give up on your organising for now as you entertain Buck’s want to get everything off his chest.

“Looks like you finally got a taste of your own medicine hey?” Your attempt at lightening the mood a little is met by a roll of Buck’s eyes and a sigh.

You had a point to an extent, he’d never really dealt with a real breakup before even though he’d been with plenty of other women. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone’s gotta experience heartbreak at some point, it’s part of your character development,” You mirror the way he’s leaning against the dining table yourself, pressing your lower back against the wood with your arms crossed.

"I don’t think I needed that character development," Buck sighed once again, "I wish I wasn’t experiencing it right now. I just wish she’d call me or even send me something, anything. Tell me she’s not coming back properly you know?"

He’d probably try to convince her into a long distance relationship if she did call him. But he wasn’t going to tell you that part. He was supposed to be moving on.

“I deleted her number from your phone so… she’s not going to,”

“You did what?” You could hear the immediate hurt in Buck’s tone at your confession, demonstrated further by the way his eyes turned to you in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you are trying to physically move on,” You gesture towards the cardboard boxes that are littered around the apartment containing Buck’s belongings. “But you haven’t mentally moved on, you need both otherwise you’re gonna crash,”

Buck hated that you were right.

You were always right.

You always knew what was best for him when he didn’t even realise what was best for himself.

"I hate that all you do is say the right things at the right time."

“It’s a talent of mine,” You nudge him gently with a smile, again trying to lift up the mood a little.

Sometimes he hated that you were so kind too.

Some twisted part of him wished that you would do something wrong, that you would say the wrong thing and give him an excuse to let out all of his pent up frustration without feeling bad about it afterwards.

But you never did. And he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Then he started thinking about Abby again, of course he did. She was like a parasite that had burrowed a little cavity in his brain and wouldn’t leave no matter how many times he hit himself over the head.

He’d never had a truly vulnerable conversation with her when they were together. Not without the sole focus being on her or her mother’s health. He couldn’t remember a conversation that they’d had that was actually about his problems.

He couldn’t hate her for that. Of course not. She was going through a lot. But it really put into perspective who was the primary giver of their relationship. And it’s starting to make him question whether it was authentic in the first place.

Did she see it as a proper relationship like he did? Or was she using it as a distraction from all of the stress she had looking after her mother all the time?

He didn’t even realise he was tearing up until a drop of water hit the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?” You turned your head towards him after noticing how he’d gone quiet, his head lowered to a point where you couldn’t fully see the expression on his face.

“I don’t know-” His words said one thing, but the way he shook his head said something else. He was very clearly not okay.

“Buck…” You sigh softly at his tone, sounding a little forced as if he was scared of his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked his question hesitantly, no longer trying to hide the wavering in his tone. He felt stupid for feeling like this over something that was seemingly so trivial to him in the past, but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything but crying until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He felt even stupider acting like this in front of you of all people. You’d dealt with enough of his baggage already, and he didn’t want to do to you what Abby had done to him in essentially using you as a human diary.

You don’t hesitate in your answer at all. “C’mere,”

You barely even open your arms before the space is filled by Buck, his head hidden against the shoulder of your t-shirt to hide his expression from you.

You lean your weight fully against the edge of the table as you envelop him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in your best attempt at physically soothing him as he lets out a soft cry into your shoulder.

A fully grown man crying into the arms of someone half his size because he couldn’t handle a breakup. Who would’ve thought?

The longer you held him the less he felt like he had to be embarrassed about it. Somebody had his back, and he didn’t ever want that to end.

“You’re gonna be alright,” The hand that wasn’t gently rubbing soothing lines over his back cupped the back of his neck, holding his head securely against your shoulder.

You knew he was going to break down eventually. You were just glad he had someone present during it.

"Thank you," Buck whispered to you as he began to calm down, "Thank you so much."

Embracing you felt like home, the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he had support. Like he could be himself.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and for the first time in a while he felt as if everything would be okay.

“Don’t mention it,” You make no move to pull away from the hug once he’s calm enough to speak to you again, content to wait until Buck was comfortable enough to pull away in his own time.

He didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Buck’s voice is muffled against your shoulder as he speaks, and he links his arms together behind your waist. “That would be nice,”

You laugh shortly at the question, your shoulders shaking slightly as you do and in turn jostling Buck slightly in your arms. “I think my legs would give out after a while, you’re heavy you know,”

"They’d get stronger eventually," Buck muttered, "We could work out together. I could train you."

Buck was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit but, as usual, his mouth spoke before his brain had a chance to control it. He was just glad that you hadn’t actually pulled away yet.

“You can’t train me to do anything if you won’t let go,”You continue to laugh softly at his proposition as your hand scratches gently at the hairs at nape of his neck.

“You can just hold me then,” He drops the idea almost immediately under the favour of staying securely in your arms.

He’d never hugged any of his friends like this before, although he supposes he’s never actually wanted to. But here he is nonetheless, and it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been in his life.

He just wanted to stay in the little cocoon your arms provided him away from reality for the rest of his life, maybe longer than that. The only question was whether you’d entertain his idea of abandoning everything productive you were supposed to be doing so that he could satiate his desire to stay exactly where he was.

“Not standing up,” You shake your head against the side of his with a small chuckle. “My legs are already starting to hurt,”

“On the couch then? We can watch that movie you were talking about,”

“We still have packing to finish Buckley,”

“Tomorrow,” Buck shakes his head as he makes a move to separate himself from you, although not fully as his hands still lay carefully positioned on your sides. “I genuinely cannot do any more packing today,”

You raise an eyebrow at him and he tilts his head at you with a sigh. “Come on, humour me here I’m emotionally vulnerable,”

He slips one of his hands towards your wrist and gives it a small tug, his grip loose enough that if you wanted to pull your arm away from him you could do so with minimal effort. You don’t of course, allowing him to tug you forward until you’re not leaning against the table any more, your weight fully supported on your feet. “We can watch that movie, order a pizza and I can wallow in my emotions for a few hours until I’m mentally fit to continue packing,”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to procrastinate,” You furrow your eyebrows accusingly, but the smile on your face betrays your feigned scolding, just grateful that he was sound enough to joke about his own misery now that he’d actually had the chance to vent his emotions.

“Oh I definitely am,” Buck’s smile mirrors yours emphatically, and he starts towards the living room with your wrist in his hand so you’re ‘forced’ to follow him. “I hate packing, it’s boring and everyone always tells me I’m doing it wrong,”

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #asks 🚒#evan buckley angst #9-1-1 angst

166 notes · View notes

probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

Text

Hunter's Experiences After Belos's Death

Oops, this got long. Aw well, it was really fun to write.

Special thanks to @ashanimus!

This is speculative at the end of the day, but since:

1. This is my fave animated show of all time

2. I grew up with Complex PTSD (CPTSD) like Hunter

3. I work as a therapist,

I thought to list down some things I can visualize happening in the duration of the finale's timeskip, before that beautiful epilogue we saw. And I want to dive in using whatever clues, leads and parallels I can find in canon: to analyze and see how he went from the Bad But Sad Boy to that peaceful-looking palisman carver in the epilogue.

A small reference I had for this meta is Cinema Therapy's episode on the Hunger Games movies (link), since the protagonist, Katniss Everdeen, from the book and also movie trilogy would have the same diagnosis as Hunter. Those books and movies explored how Katniss coped with the frightening and dramatically different landscape that was the calmness of her world post-victory.

Part 1: His Possible Experiences Leading Up to Seeking a Therapist

His disposition could possibly become like Luz's from early Season 3: a state of emotionally shutting down and numbing out. He appeared to nearly head in this direction right after he was revived by Flapjack, as he began to cry. There was that small window where he could have expressed more tears than he did, and have his body shut down under the weight of bereavement.

But the immediate physical threat, Belos, was still on the run. He got up, sprang into action and didn't catch a break from the time he followed Belos through the portal until he stood in The Collector's palace after Belos died (had he even received the news of his 'Uncle' dying yet??!).

Now that Belos isn't around anymore, the Isles will have a completely different feel and rebuilding the land would've taken grueling work after the dismantling of a damaging Coven System.

I was looking at Luz's behavior and gestures in Thanks to Them, which were indicative of her sinking into depression after 1. the horrible revelation in Hollow Mind that she unintentionally helped Philip. 2. witnessing Flapjack's death. I'm putting screenshots of her below in parallel with Hunter's own emotions in For the Future:

They have different mental health conditions if you talk symptoms, e.g. Luz doesn't show signs of CPTSD hypervigilance, while Hunter doesn't have that slowing down in his physical and mental activity which points to depression. But both have suffered from moral injury thanks to Belos's violence and manipulation.

However, a major comparison is that Hunter has had much more repressed emotion over a long period compared to Luz. The column with Hunter screencaps above, is what he may feel with a much higher intensity in the weeks and months after he first hears that his abuser has passed on.

Shown below, the few seconds of Hunter's big smile drooping when it was all over, was a big hint for me:

A hint that there is a deep undercurrent of emotions he'd much rather not feel, that he'd probably rather hide from himself. Even while smiling, we know how his heart-wrenching story has played out and the light in his eyes here doesn't match the brightness we see in his expressions in the epilogue, post-timeskip.

That is the face of a kid who has not cried out massive amounts of tears yet. He doesn't look like he's carrying a light load yet, compared to what we see in his future self. And it's certainly a heavier smile than the jollier one he makes here right after King's Tide when Flapjack was still around:

I can't imagine the amount of grief that his body has yet to dredge up and release, once he finally doesn't have to worry about his 'uncle' threatening his life anymore. Too many times to count, I've been in the situation where I cry intensely after being retraumatized and think "Huh? More tears? Where did it come from?? I thought I had cried it all out from my whole being the last time!". It kind of convinced me that anyone with CPTSD has so much grief stored up in their body that the number of times needed to have a good cry feels like a really endless expanse.

However: because I had 7 years of being in and out of therapy, what matters is that the durations between these episodes of mine, the durations of the episodes themselves, plus their intensity have reduced a lot. It was around a 4-year timeskip in the finale, so for Hunter to get as far as he did to heal, his own therapy sessions would've probably been rigorous and very consistent.

Anyway, he might now cycle through his own version of what Luz cycled through when she gradually shuts down from failing to build a new portal door in Thanks to Them, continually believes she's as bad as Belos, and when she alludes to her suicidal ideation in the classroom:

whereby there is a likely parallel between Luz wrestling with guilt from her own moral injury, and Hunter's own guilt from what he wished he could've done to prevent being possessed, to prevent Flapjack from dying. Both their situations are that of moral injuries.

The adrenaline rush would be over for everyone on the Isles.

I'm quite sure the therapists on the Isles will operate pretty soon after the news about Belos's death was out. They would conduct whatever version of mental health triage they have, that involves risk assessments and crisis counselling. Both of these based on what I've learnt are shorter in duration (30 minutes) and are one-off sessions, compared to regular talk therapy which is an hour minimum.

The therapists would be redirecting people to necessary resources e.g. where to find food or loved ones, and managing distress only related to people's immediate needs instead of forming a longer term plan for several weekly sessions.

I believe things are simpler when you are running away from an external threat, like the two Hunter scenarios below. In Hollow Mind there is no emotion on his face because in peak C-PTSD mode he has shut down his emotions to pour that energy into escaping Belos. In Thanks to Them, he appears quite obviously scared with widened eyes because he got comfortable with safety for months and Belos's return was a surprise attack (thanks ashanimus for pointing out to me how his expressions are animated!):

But what is there to run from now? Not an external threat for sure. The war zone is now the one in his mind, heart and soul and it would become front and center. I believe both these screenshots are two notches on a dial, and the missing third image - which would show him finding it difficult to stuff down the grief any longer, might look like a more exasperated version of when he told Willow "Please don't call yourself [a Half-a-Witch] ever again" in For the Future, and eventually a more depressed version of his vanishing smile in The Collector's Palace.

When can he really run from himself? Only while asleep, if he's spared nightmares on any given night, or while distracting himself with the main mission of rebuilding the Isles or continuing to bond with his friends and other people.

His anger in For the Future was a telling sign for me that he made sure his focus was still on an external threat: he still had the opportunity to do so back then, because Belos was still alive. But when we see him in The Collector's palace sending Willow off to her dads, there has realistically been a shift in what will threaten the more fragile shreds of inner peace he's still clinging on to. There are those scary trauma-related emotions to worry about, which wouldn't have just evaporated into thin air. They would be looking for a new outlet, and they'll find their way into flashbacks, nightmares, tension still stored in the body, an exaggerated startle response, etc.

We have seen a range of reactions he has to danger, triggers and emotional pain: some involve moving his body more, and fewer involve a short of shutting down:

Flinching during Belos's tantrums, being able to fight Kikimora calmly, freezing up in the throne room (Hunting Palismen)

Suicidal ideation and even a sort of suicide plan (Eclipse Lake)

Freezing up and expecting punishment from Darius (Any Sport in a Storm)

Being able to stay almost entirely calm as he learnt more and more of the truth about Belos, though his hand was shaking briefly, then a panic attack later on (Hollow Mind)

Lots of avoidance symptoms like numbing, combined with hypervigilance e.g. shivering and another panic attack (Labyrinth Runners)

Feeling fear with underlying shame and subconsciously expecting punishment, when he failed to save Luz (Clouds on the Horizon)

Freezing and recoiling, though he fought against this by asserting a boundary with Belos (King's Tide)

Panic attack when looking into the mirror and having an emotional flashback, hypervigilance e.g. stamping his foot and shivering (Thanks to Them)

Anger and rage to cope with bereavement, later being tearful (For the Future)

Most likely a sense of bereavement, deep exhaustion and possibly loneliness, during that briefly shown moment in The Collector's Palace (Watching and Dreaming)

The serious work he has to put in to heal from his trauma would begin once his whole body gives in to the exhaustion, catching up with the bereavement-related emotions that have also begun to settle in. It could be a massive emotional and physical collapse that he can't fight off, where his physical energy levels become tanked seemingly out of nowhere. And I think it would look like a worse version of him lying in his makeshift grave, where he is barely able to move around the house or anywhere for some time.

This happened to Katniss in the Hunger Games trilogy, and while the portrayal was done differently in the books and movies, both were good explorations of what it's like to shift from the default high alert (and long-term) mode of CPTSD to coping with the scary unknown world of newfound safety. Katniss spent her childhood in poverty and being constantly on edge that she might be chosen for the Hunger Games, being parentified, to provide for her family.

While participating in the games, she had to utilize battle skills and kill others to survive and sustained many injuries, still constantly on high alert whereby any respite would last for incredibly short durations. Towards the end of the story, after she loses the one she loved most (her sister Prim, who I think can be a parallel of Flapjack in this meta), Katniss shifts from peak physical activity into mostly sleeping and being actively suicidal for months, hardly moving and not leaving the house, until the shock of traumatic grief began to wear off. She absolutely crashed and went from one extreme to the other. In the movie Mockingjay Part 2, they added a non-book scene where her grief comes out in an outburst when she sees their pet cat hanging around on the kitchen counter. She flings an object in the cat's direction, then screams "[Prim] is gone!!" repeatedly before collapsing into heavy sobs, picking up the cat and holding it to her chest to soothe herself.

This kind of major collapse might happen very soon to Hunter after he leaves The Collector's Palace or only after some weeks. The timing of this, I can't predict. The reason why he didn't appear to have this issue in the early months being in the human realm is because there was still something external to concentrate on: help his friends get back to the Human Realm, help Luz reunite with Eda and King, while him and Flapjack hoped to go home too.

You could argue that even now, he still has something external to focus on i.e. helping the others rebuild the Isles. However I keep imagining that the people who love him are going to be quite adamant in getting him, Luz and the other kids to please rest. Since we saw Steve recommend his therapist to Lilith in O Titan Where Art Thou, I can picture the adults in particular monitoring how Hunter is doing without Flapjack.

But if this collapse I'm speculating about doesn't happen so soon, he would be pouring himself into helping others, referencing his character-centric line all the way back in Hunting Palismen about wanting to offer help, which he utters twice in that episode. There is an overlap between this expectation he has of himself and the old habit he's at risk of falling back into periodically: overworking.

Once his desire to help others is clearly comes across as an avoidance tactic on the outside - a maladaptive coping mechanism to run from the very difficult emotions that he should be processing - people around him are definitely going to set boundaries and say "No" to any attempts he makes to assist them. Someone is probably going to tell him that whatever desperation he is showing in wanting to help other people, needs to be redirected at himself. Making time and space for himself, taking time off to rest.

Him suffering from a major emotional and physical collapse is pretty likely because things are more complicated (though, physically much much safer) for him now than at the beginning of Thanks to Them when he had just fled from Belos to the human realm, and had Flapjack as his closest company. Fast forward to the victory won in Watching and Dreaming: both Flapjack and Belos are gone now.

It's telling that different thoughts are occupying Hunter's mind now, from how his expressions are drawn during his first days in the human realm vs. when peace is restored in the Isles.

1. See the sense of calmer urgency in his expression, putting the mission of building the portal door first, while experiencing a strong sense of togetherness with his friends, and learning to trust Camila who is treating him well:

compared to

2. the sheer exhaustion and feeling of "What now...?" (see his upper eyelids below?) that set in, once he helped Willow find her parents and there was no more task at hand that didn't involve himself. His bright smile from a split-second ago has drooped and disappeared:

I know that right after the above frame, Darius and Eberwolf reunited with him, but his emotions are going to cycle up and down in the hours, weeks and months ahead. The elation from seeing Darius and Eber - people who were there to greet him when he expected nobody to turn up - is not going to last, though it will certainly come and go, because high-running positive emotions like that don't last as long, especially in the context of the life he's had as a child soldier. It's totally possible that on the same night, hours after this reunion with their loved ones, their emotions will shift drastically.

The tired look in his eyes above and the sad face he then makes, is in between two moments of him having something external to focus on (Willow and then Darius). I'm inclined to think that the above depressed look reflects a lot of the complexity that is going on underneath the surface. What is his state of mind when alone with his thoughts, when he has zero tasks to perform? How is he handling those thoughts?

There will be a deep, sometimes mind-numbing sense of bereavement over two significant figures in his life. First Flapjack, now this:

He used to love Belos. But I'm really not sure he can just uproot that love from deep within and discard it. Hunter carries memories like the following ones around which will be confusing to navigate on tougher days, despite being able to tell Luz "That's what Belos does, he tricks people". Because these were his formative years:

and something tells me that Philip was cunning enough to strike a delicate balance between being 'nice' to Hunter like above, versus unleashing his violent temper to terrify and harm him. Making sure that balance was so close to 50/50 that it would leave a child very confused. So confused he would rather believe he's never good enough rather than the more frightening prospect that his so-called family does not actually love him at all.

Hunter will have a moment now and then of still missing the 'niceness' that his 'uncle' showed towards him (felt in his heart and subconscious), while still knowing (in his head, rationally) that Philip was not genuine when treating him that way.

To note though, he did not witness Belos's death which reduces the severity of intrusive images that the poor kid would see in his mind.

What I'm worried about is how he'll handle the news about the grimwalker graveyard, since I'm sure that location is going to be scoured and Darius would want to give his mentor a proper sending off. They'd want to give all the Golden Guards and Caleb a sending off and pay their respects. This might add to what I suspect will be the messed up depression he'll fall into.

It will be very confusing and emotionally disorienting, literally not needing to worry about anyone killing him anymore. He has had no point of reference for this in his life at all. It might possibly the furthest he ever goes from that primal survival instinct he had while living in the Castle for so long, which took up the majority of his life so far:

There will also be the added layer of how he feels about those first emotions. This is literally a concept called Feelings About Feelings and it's a key part of my work since I use the Satir Model in my style of counselling. We don't just feel emotions, we also tack on our own judgments and evaluations about them. E.g. shame about feeling anger, guilt about feeling sad because of burdening others, or even a combination like fear about feeling joy which can show up in healing from bereavement.

Depending on how we feel about whichever emotions got there first, it makes a difference because we could be adding or subtracting unnecessary suffering from the first emotion, especially if the first emotion is an already unpleasant one.

I have a feeling that we'd see Hunter look very very tired, till he makes breakthroughs in therapy. A tiredness that sleep, a healthy diet and exercise alone simply cannot fix. Because there's an entire upbringing in the Emperor's Coven to sort through in his head, this time not combined with the avoidance of having fled to the human realm and living under one roof with his friends.

The Hexsquad are not living under the same roof anymore, they are reunited with their own families with much to emotionally talk out, and the group no longer has a very urgent single collective mission. Sure, Hunter has an active role to play in rebuilding the Isles, but what about rebuilding his very self? He has the steepest climb, because we have seen the symptoms he exhibits.

Most of all, referencing a section of my Retraumatization and Self-Soothing (Part 1) meta (link), a memory as horrible as this:

will likely be the most intrusive image is going to be replaying again and again over the months to come, and it may flood his thoughts during moments of being triggered or even out of nowhere during quiet moments for no apparent reason. It will be just like a broken record, where the same small excerpt of a song loops endlessly until the needle of the gramophone is repositioned.

It was remarkably poignant that his final words to Belos were "And most of all, I'm going to make sure you never hurt anyone again", and I'm happy with the story keeping it this way and understand why the writers likely made this decision - not just because the season was shortened. Hunter did not need to directly see or hear more from Belos in close quarters, not after his abuser minimized his needs for years, gaslit him, possessed him and got him to murder his best friend with his own hands.

It's more straightforward to make sure someone else isn't hurting anyone. It's easier to think of what plans to implement, when it comes to him protecting others: which he has had plenty of practice with. Because those are practical methods that we can see in action on the outside.

But here's the kicker: what about applying that last grand statement from his TTT speech to himself, emotionally: making sure he isn't psychologically hurting himself with harmful unhelpful thoughts and beliefs, after Belos's death? "I'll make sure I don't hurt myself (and by extension, my loved ones) again".

This will be very new to him, and it is a theme that I handle in pretty much every client case in my therapy work. The client's self-dialogue, the self-compassion or lack thereof. Which, in real life, is often not a concept that our own families and schools introduce to us to be familiar with.

For Hunter, this may translate into him making the decision to get help and truly accepting the gift of life that Flapjack gave him.

Basically this on a much bigger scale:

whereby in Flapjack's absence, he can truly believe in this new and positive fundamental belief about himself. The evidence that he managed to make it to that heartbreaking but incredibly beautiful place is pretty strong:

But before his happy ending, the pressure on himself to be useful to others via helping and working is likely going to come back and be used as his way of coping, and there's a chance it will cross the line into becoming a form of self-harm that he's relying on to avoid the frightening, deeper emotional pain. People around him know him well enough that they'll be able to spot his behavioral changes and then sense he is not going in a helpful direction. They'll see that it's hurting him even though it's the most familiar territory for his mind to be in, and someone is going to tell him to change that.

He's going to be seeing his friends with their palismen. How will it be like being among them, even if they are pretty good at supporting him? How would he attempt to make sense of the void that is the absence of the incredible love he experienced from that first friend, the absence of that mental link between witch and palisman?

What emotions could be lurking beneath the surface? Believe it or not, there are some signs from Luz's nightmare even though yes, Hunter was being controlled by The Collector. I wouldn't quickly dismiss this dark Flapjack-related scene as 100% being about The Collector's goal to scare Luz in the nightmare.

I think there was a smaller subplot going on as well.

The Collector needed material to work with in the first place, to perform the puppet acts: the material was whatever fears and whatever pain was already there in their targets.

The Collector didn't create Hunter's emotions from scratch for the puppet act; instead he manipulated and redirected what existed at the base level. All this wouldn't work as analogies of mental illness vs. mental health if The Collector could just engineer emotions on their own and simply replace whatever his puppet targets were already feeling. Emotions never vanish and always take up space somewhere, they are redirected, transformed or channeled into outlets even if it means they become repressed or locked away. But they never stop existing.

I have a feeling that despite the nightmare being Luz's, despite Hunter being used as an instrument for The Collector to achieve their goals...the pre-existing emotions that Hunter himself felt in his body, not puppet!Hunter's verbal responses towards Luz, were true. He is a haunted boi.

This face he makes above might be a hint at the worst of his pain. It might be the furthest he has felt from when he said "I like who I am right now" to Flapjack. In the place of that confidence from before, there might now be his own version of Luz's "I'm as bad as Belos". I cannot be entirely certain, but the negative belief that may have taken root in him could be "I am not deserving of the life Flapjack gave me".

Interestingly, if this is the case, it could easily parallel his line from all the way back in Any Sport in A Storm: "I'm unfit to wear the sigil of the Golden Guard." It's definitely a possibility, since Hunter is now faced with having a lot of time and space now, and less urgency than he's ever had in his life, to think back on all those times he helped to further Belos's cause. Especially when it came to sending many palismen to their deaths.

With his own palisman now dead, the engraving we would eventually see on Flapjack's grave: "Thank you for finding me", would be the destination. But the journey needed to reach that destination of amazing gratitude in the first place...must have been a harrowing one. In the early months of the acute grief, it would've been more like "Why did you have to find me?! You shouldn't have. Then none of this would've happened". Not forgetting the number of times Hunter has replayed in his head what he could've done differently, trying so desperately to rewind the clock and make that better alternate timeline a reality.

If you remove The Collector and even Luz from the equation in the Luz nightmare scene, Hunter may well be having such responses - the ones that puppet!Hunter directed at Luz to blame Luz - as a dialogue with himself. He might direct those negative emotions towards himself since he's so careful about hurting others and has taken on unfair punishment for so much of his life.

Even when he was temporarily himself, smiling, expressing a positive emotion to encourage Luz with "What's the first thing you do when you wake up from a bad dream?", that was him conversing with another person, someone external. Not his own self. I am willing to bet he wasn't at a point in his arc where he would smile at himself like that and easily encourage himself in the same way.

While we can be certain he had already reached his breakthroughs by the time we saw him post-timeskip, he has not experienced them yet in the frame above. He has not felt (yet) what Luz felt onscreen when she had breakthroughs in relation to her moral injury:

Taking a leap of faith to accept the Titan's gift, to trust that he chose her because she has a good heart and will never be Belos.

Then later, being able to stand firm, believing she truly is good ("I am the Good Witch Luz!"), and not uttering a word to Belos as he died - which was post-traumatic growth beyond how she broke down under his threats and manipulation towards the end of Hollow Mind and later in King's Tide.

Recap time. In the (quite likely) long period that passes by before we meet his new palismen, he's likely going to want to jump into action and attend meetings with Darius, Eberwolf and co, help to physically rebuild things and organize people with his own Coven Head experience. Leaning back on the ingrained and familiar lifestyle of pouring himself into work and gearing towards burnout is certainly a risk to watch out for.

The Hexsquad, CATTs and the Clawthorne sisters are going to notice his behavior and likely urge him to get appropriate rest and seek help.

However, there is the other extreme: Belos isn't around anymore to torment him, and Hunter would know this in the rational sense (head knowledge). Which leads to the possibility that he may swing towards shutting down as opposed to overworking tendencies. He would feel allowed to do whatever he wants, in this new Boiling Isles, and he had months of opportunities to do that in the early part of Thanks to Them before Belos's return.

What I'm getting at is, if he didn't sleep enough before, he might swing towards sleeping too much after finally collapsing from the familiarity of survival mode into unknown but genuinely safe territory. If he cared too much about helping others before, he might swing towards a depressive state of apathy (the closest canon reference point would be him digging his grave: he was very disarmed in that scene to even think much about helping anyone including Belos). This is why the screenshot I used of his smile drooping in The Collector's Palace, feels like a big clue to me. This would be where Darius, Camila and other adults have to seriously keep watch over him.

In the Cinema Therapy episode I had as a small reference for this post, the licensed therapist who hosts the series mentions that "It takes a lot longer to put oneself back together than it took to fall apart." In Hunter's case, the "falling apart" period here refers to that collapsing I mentioned. It would be the time between:

1. the grief hitting him in full force: when he subconsciously understands and acknowledges that Flapjack isn't coming back (which...will involve hell of a lot of wailing and sobbing. Him having a full version cry of those first few tears he shed at the end of TTT),

and

2. the time when the painful shock from feeling the full force of the grief has decreased enough that it plateaus.

This falling apart stage may need to pass before he seeks therapy. If he tries going for sessions while still going through that shock and pain, it might be too much for him.

As terrible and sad as it sounds, a deep dark spiral like this might be necessary. It would be his body and mind wanting to compensate for several years' worth of unnatural hypervigilance which wasn't serving him in a advantageous way (i.e. surviving) any longer. His body and mind begging for rest at last, to try and make sense of everything that happened. This big collapse into depression would empty out the old and free up much room in him for new stories, beliefs and perspectives to take root. Depression is, after all, the body's attempt to (maladaptively) try and protect us by numbing us, or else we would be overwhelmed.

As someone whom we know keeps himself very busy, this could be the period where he is the furthest he has ever been from that old simpler life. Because his CPTSD-ridden body would be demanding more than ever that he compensates for a childhood and teen years' lack of general rest, he may not even have the strength to cope the way he did before. The only way he might possibly cope in this period is to go with the flow of that raging current and do exactly what his body is asking of him: getting real rest.

Like what happened with Katniss in the Hunger Games trilogy, this early grieving stage would emotionally be difficult and terrifying, like walking along a tightrope, finding balance between left and right to angle yourself as straightly as possible and walk forward. (the tightrope metaphor is what I use with some of my clients to explain swinging between extremes of coping mechanisms).

The missing pieces of the puzzle in his arc, in the 4-year duration before the timeskip, might be his own version of these points in Luz's arc:

where she sank lower before she realized her deepest wish and emotionally experienced her worst fear in her Watching and Dreaming nightmare.

For Hunter, these could look like the following:

Like Luz saying it'd be better for everyone that she permanently stays in the human realm, Hunter might say he wants to remove himself from his loved ones in some way, for good. Whether a literal suicide attempt (like Katniss from The Hunger Games) or not, I can't say for sure.

A parental figure trying to reach out to him, saying he is deserving of Flapjack's gift. But he still struggles to believe that. What matters though is this parental figure is present and he's not pushing them away.

Him hearing some confirmation of his deepest negative belief about himself, in his own nightmares. Like Luz hearing the most terrifying things she could ever hear - Amity's "You've been the real villain this whole time" and "But for the sake of everyone you hurt, I challenge you to a witch's [duel]".

Him being able to reach an emotional space where he can begin to question that unhelpful belief: "Am I really deserving of Flapjack's gift?", or something similar.

The big moment when he finally tells someone how he really feels about the possession, Belos's death, Flapjack's absence in this new supposed peace and quiet....this would be the important invitation for the other person to connect and meet his emotional needs, and is a lot like how support groups for addiction work: a client needs to acknowledge that they are struggling with a problem, not avoiding it with distractions any longer, and then seek help and express their need for said help.

I suppose the question is how soon Hunter might decide to accept professional help and give it a go: or whether he'd have the genuine need for space first and say "I need some time". Because one's rational mind can be ready to go for therapy, but their subconscious and body would find it too unpleasant if it's too soon. Every part of him would have to be ready to begin putting himself back together after the falling apart stage occurs.

The messed up experience of CPTSD is that you stay shockingly calm during real danger, but on the flip side have big, disproportionate freakouts during actually safe times. Compare how calm Hunter was when he smiled at Luz in her nightmare while he was tied up with puppet strings vs. his fear and shame when he couldn't save Luz in Clouds on the Horizon.

In a CPTSD memoir I read, the author describes that it was horribly frightening to hear her partner be in a bad mood and wash the dishes more loudly than usual, while during the pandemic, she felt completely calm seeing empty shelves in a supermarket when she struggled to get supplies.

From my own experience, I have experienced being pretty damn calm when bleeding out and needing hospitalization. But in a different year before that, I recall one afternoon alone in my house right before a vacation where a strong gust of wind very loudly slammed an open door shut next to where I happened to be standing, and I broke down sobbing from a retraumatization via an emotional flashback. Because it felt extremely real as if my abusive parent was lashing out to physically hurt me.

After a 5-year period of mostly being in talk therapy, and then a 2-year period of regularly scheduled EMDR therapy, my response if I have a door loudly slam shut near me now would maybe be a smaller-scale flinch and a flash of anger that would last about maybe a minute. Which is miles better than sobbing for half an hour and being dissociated and frozen in a memory for hours before I thaw out of that flashback.

Since the show's writing is just that good, I could look at Luz's depressive symptoms manifesting in Thanks to Them and see a likely parallel in Hunter's story moving forward, since we know how much this show also digs neat and tidy parallels. These are characters written for TV after all, so they'd have to fit a formula to an extent, to have compelling arcs and reach high and low points along said arcs.

Part 2: Therapy Itself

Part 1 was the setup to give a good amount of context: now for the technicalities of the therapy sessions themselves:

Like Adrian Graye said in Labyrinth Runners, Illusion Magic can sort through memories. We have seen from Gus's own powerful Illusion abilities that he could do so with Belos. It makes sense that a therapist does this in sessions to have a magnified version of how in our world, therapists exercise empathy by imagining what it is like to be their clients:

I would monitor whether his mood (what he is feeling within) and affect (how the emotions appear on the outside e.g. tone of voice, face expressions) are congruent. Congruence usually means a client is in less distress. Incongruence might mean they are in so much pain that they can't connect directly with the main emotion: the perfect example of this being Hunter laughing when digging his grave.

We therapists take note of aspects such as affect, mood, the client's motor activity, any indicators of psychosis, even down to things like how untidy their hair looks in case we get clues about the severity of their issues (this is called a Mental Status Exam, and we write what we see in our case notes per session).

Because CPTSD is so relationship-centric, I'd discuss how he's getting along with new parental figures (the Belos replacements who will heal him so much and change his life forever!) and friends.

If the Boiling Isles therapists use their own equivalent of EMDR therapy, which is theorized to be like a waking version of how REM sleep and REM-related dreams help our brains to sort through memories, it sounds like a great fit for his case. This intervention involves subconscious work and could help him reshape how he experiences memories of Flapjack and Belos. EMDR clients are expected to see vivid images popping up without control in their mind during the sessions, and they are quite symbolic e.g. seeing a grey sky often indicates grief, seeing lighter colors indicates more calm. This technique helps a client's subconscious rewrite their story the way they'd like it to be, and install new positive beliefs and emotions over time.

My own example of EMDR experiences from the second half of 2019 as a client, is it majorly changed how I related to my own abuser, got me to finally feel allowed to emotionally break away from her, even though she is still alive and even lives in the same building.

In the early sessions, I saw an image of my 5-year-old self being forced to wear an ugly grey apron that my abuser used for baking. The apron is a real object, not fictional, and the emotions I felt showing up were matching with the image: feeling very uncomfortable seeing a visual representation of my abuser's hold over me.

But in a later session after a few months, guided by my therapist, I saw a vivid image of my abuser receiving a sea burial. She was lying peacefully on the water surface and sank down until she was gone. That was me subconsciously burying any expectation that she could ever provide what I needed. This was so powerful that I could go home after that session and permanently (so far) be significantly calmer around my abuser.

Therefore if Hunter goes through something like this, he'd potentially be able to put Belos to rest and have it feel very real and true: and have significantly reduced distress about Belos-related memories. There is the potential for powerful breakthroughs for him here, especially also related to Flapjack's death and how challenging it might be to carve palismen in the beginning. Especially since in the worst case scenario, even touching palistrom wood might be enough to badly trigger him. I cover this particular point a bit more in my other meta, Retraumatization and Self-Soothing (Part 1).

We would also be discussing what he's implementing into his routine and what may benefit him. I would be seeing if he is able to laugh about things, be motivated enough to be outdoors and among people, experience pleasure when creating new things, and form closer bonds with parental figures (what I just listed is to do with neurotransmitters in the brain that increase mental health: serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin).

If I were his therapist I might suggest that whatever volunteering tasks he does, he carries those out with his friends, and time should be allocated to managing and taking care of a specific demographic: children. Because I think it'd be a safe, low stakes form of unfamiliarity for him to have enough emotional distance from his traumatic memories. Early months of acute grief usually require such emotional distance.

Having a good dose of an environment like that alongside the other tasks where he's working alongside Darius etc, could help him because kids' emotions are less complex, and their infectious laughter and fun-loving nature may play a role in helping him be more open with his own inner child. His therapist would be seeking to draw out that inner child in their sessions, and that little child would need to feel safe enough to emerge.

Importantly, his future palisman: it would've been interesting if he did what Luz did with Stringbean and allowed the palisman to be whoever they wanted to be...that would've been a nicely organic process. But even if he had a good idea to incorporate a Flapjack-like design but change details like the color, I'm sure he thought it through very well. I'm certain that this was a major topic of discussion at some stage of his therapy. Discussing the guilt he'd feel about replacing Flapjack vs. still taking Flapjack with him in a new way.

Coming from a strengths-based angle: paying attention to which of his individual strengths he is shows and recounts in the session. If he needs reminding, I could give him a simple worksheet listing various positive qualities and ask him to circle/colour in which ones he feels he has, which then prompts further discussion and questions. Lastly, a powerful tool called reframing e.g. if he says he's worried about being a nuisance to his friends, I'll point out how much he cares about their comfort and affirm that place of kindness.

Work on inviting self-compassion into how he sees himself. Is he able to view himself the way he views his friends? If he remembers the encouragement he gave to Luz about "turning on the light", I would ask him what that would look like in his own life, symbolically.

Hunter's own life has been a really really bad dream for a very long time. He himself has to reach for that light switch and choose to heal by embracing Flapjack's ultimate gift to him.

And we can rest assured that Hunter did that.

Because this post-traumatic growth right here?

This looks like multiple breakthroughs have taken place while he's been receiving consistent care from an excellent community. And there's no way it was an easily won victory. It has been very much hard-won, after how dark the story became in Hollow Mind and Thanks to Them, and it looks like whatever breakthroughs he had left him pleasantly surprised.

It doesn't seem like his heart and soul can contain this much joy and hope, without a very painful dismantling to have taken place first, to make room for the most unexpected treasures to fill his life back up.

The joy becomes even greater if you never would've expected it in your wildest dreams.

#toh hunter #toh analysis #toh spoilers #the owl house #loz writes a meta

757 notes · View notes

cuubism · 6 months

Text

It's my favorite/least favorite writing month now, so here's an overly-ambitious list of things I would love to complete during nano :) last year I reached a true feral state of dissociated insanity by the end of November and I do hope to achieve that again!

Happenstance, final chapter. this was on my list and I just finished/posted it :) [COMPLETED]

the follow-up fic to Trade Secrets, the Knight Hob/Prince Dream PWP. more unmitigated smut in this one.

New installment of In Search of Nightingales [bookstore cryptid Dream] -- this one is about Dream moving in with Hob. [COMPLETED]

A Death/Johanna fic that was supposed to be for the femslash event but evidently... was not 😂

The sheltered rich boy Dream & feral child Hob (though it's really not much about that anymore) fic that I've occasionally posted snippets of. This one has gotten... long.

"Ooh, Kinky", a fic about how Dream really likes when Hob does sweet things for him. [COMPLETED]

a very long, post-2022 slowburn getting together fic that I literally started last fall, and has 17k words but isn't finished -- I would really like to finally finally finish that.

At LEAST one of the non-dreamling ideas people sent me way back. I have so many and I ended up writing like... none of them. Oops.

chapter 3 of the melting press of the sun, a fic that wasn't supposed to be longer than one chapter. Hob helps Dream with his post-fishbowl dissociative episodes through the power of Friendship and Really Shitty Reality Television

the Shibari fic that I teased a month ago, wrote half of in one day, and then barely touched since 😂

chapter 3 of the better to see you with, my dear [the Spy Hob AU] which I've left on the back burner for a while now.

A mostly-completed segment of Silly Rabbit AU about various tales and connections Dream is spinning.

In Waking Dreams chapter 7, which is already partially complete.

There's also one or two projects that live at kind of the intersection of fanfic and original fic that have been bouncing around my head so those may come up as well ☺️

And new as of November 1 (goddammit):

A very silly crack fic about Johanna accidentally kidnapping Dream and Hob's weird magical baby (goes about how you'd expect) [COMPLETED]

idea I got stuck in my head last night about Dream making sex Hob's reward for rescuing him as an intricate ritual to let Dream have some intimacy without having to admit that he wants it.

BONUS: prequel to dreamling's magical baby fic [COMPLETE]

BONUS: a little drabble about winter [COMPLETE]

And I've learned better than to promise progress on any outstanding Malec projects.

If any of you are also doing Nano 🫡 Godspeed.

#post that will create accountability or just jinx me #watch i won't finish any of these and will just write 10 new things instead #started nano off horribly ive been in such a weakened and sickly state nevertheless we persist #my fics #nanowrimo #spy hob #spy au #bookstore cryptid dream #in waking dreams #silly rabbit au

75 notes · View notes

ackerfics · 1 year

Text

just say it, ditto: eren jaeger

— i got nothing to lose, i keep falling for you; ra ta ta ta, there goes my heart.

eren jaeger x female reader

summary: each note eren's heart sings is about you. it's only a matter of time yours sing about him, too.

word count: 6.8k

notes: i am proud to say that this is my comeback in posting full fics here. now watch me never posting one after months. jk. but still, i'm rusty when writing longer fics so i hope you enjoy this one! treat this as a gift for being one of the 2,000 people who made this blog possible <3 + it's pretty obvious newjeans is my favorite kpop group rn oop

— You’ve long since given up on relationships.

How many partners has it been since the start of university? With how that sounds, one will think that you’ve been breaking hearts around Paradis University; notorious for being a heartless individual with no value for the depth of emotions. That assumption rings false. One hand can sum up everything romantic you’ve experienced but these relationships felt longer than the time span they actually had that you’ve lost count of them. Everything becomes hazy to a point that everything morphs into a misty film reel, unlike the rose-colored lens you’ve always seen the world with even without the pretense of falling in with someone. You’re not one to be desperate for this fickle thing called love but every once in a while, you crave blanketing words that make you see flowers, unbridled laughter amidst piles of note revisions and readings, and hugs that feel like a warm cup of coffee in a chilly night of loneliness.

Your relationships always end in the same way — they couldn’t handle the way that you see and do things; the way you have to be the last one to have the say in an argument, how you should be left alone when you’re too immersed in finishing your tasks, or when you have the tendency to be absent despite being there for them (if that makes any sense). They say you’re too focused on your goals (there’s nothing wrong with trying to finish college just to be in one of the country’s best medical schools) or you’re too snarky and blunt for them to handle (you have a bad day when this happens).

So, you just let them go. Let them win.

It’s not that you’re tired of those repeating circles of words but because they’re right. You’ve been too snarky, picky when you’re eating something, focused on your future, never clingy for someone to be called a significant other — you just don’t have the strength to continue having those relationships even though you’ve seen the world in pink when you’re with them.

The break-ups all end on a sour note, like the time you’ve been given a piece of candy without being told it’s the sourest shit on the planet. Maybe that is why you’ve been scared of romance, to begin with — the appearance may seem sweet but you’ve taken a bite, and everything takes a turn for the worse. Yeah, you understand that relationships can have their ups and downs; but when you’ve heard your boyfriend talk to his friends about how you’re so irritating and downright rude most of the time, him crossing the line as he said that this specific girl from the other class is far sexier than you can ever be and that he wants to fuck her instead (coupled with a few explicit crafting of words that disgusted even your most open-minded friends) … You have already dropped the paper bag filled with his favorite food.

That’s just one of the break-ups. God knows how much patience you have for going through much worse.

Besides, you like spending your junior year with fewer worries than the previous years.

But sometimes, you always think of how lonely you are; like what does it feel like to have someone so patient that they assure you they’re always there for you? Or to feel so secure in a relationship that it’s like a warm fireplace, which can go on for so many hours keeping you warm and safe? You swear you don’t want your heart broken again but you still crave that rush love brings to you.

It doesn’t help that you see these things in your best friend.

Eren Jaeger is someone who you completely met by chance back in freshman year, back when you were all about making sure that your marks are pristine and that your parents can have another opportunity in being the proudest that they can get.

You remember him lingering in the doorway of your dorm room, something that you were wary about until he turned around to face you with this comical teary face that didn’t fit in with his overall broody aesthetic. He claimed that Mikasa, his best friend, and practically sister since they grew up together in the same house and your roommate, accidentally took his wallet back to your dorm room. One thing you know about Mikasa in the three weeks you’ve roomed with her is that she sleeps like a bear in hibernation. So, you unlocked the door to your dorm room and told him that there was nothing to worry about because you’d get his wallet and attached keys. That way, he could have his merry way home and he would be a passing face in university. Until he invited you to have dinner with him as thanks.

You accepted since it was free food and you just got out of a three-hour lecture.

The rest is history. It was there you got to know Eren as more than just Mikasa’s childhood friend. He asked you why you picked your major, you asked him how he was faring in his — the night ended with you two exchanging numbers and following each other on your socials.

He’s seen all of your failed relationships. While Mikasa tears up with you and Armin consoles you by rubbing your back, Eren is the embodiment of anger.

He once threatened to storm out of your dorm room to fight your ex after one break-up that had you picking up the broken shards of your self-esteem and confidence. He didn’t even hear Mikasa shouting for him to calm the fuck down but all it took was for you to plead for him to stay and never make a wrong decision.

“Eren, just stay,” your breath hitched with how hard you were crying. The break-up drained you for an entire day. Your ex dared to lay out every wrong and insecurity you felt to make him feel protected — that he would have a better relationship if he went out with the girl he met a few weeks after you two started dating. You look up at Eren, your bottom lip wobbling. “Don’t go out there.”

His entire demeanor softened. Walking to you, he sat on his haunches in front of you, his stare never wavering as he regarded the way your tears made your eyelashes clump together. Why’d you had to be pretty even when crying? He pushed the thought away and clasped the hands wringing the material of your skirt into both of his. The door behind you two closed — an indication that Mikasa gave you two the privacy you both needed, the girl decided to spend the rest of the day with Armin, who was begging to be updated on what was happening to you. Eren was sure the two of them would buy some groceries, anything you prefer, just to make you feel better. They’re awesome like that. Everything blurred into nothing when you’re in his view. You kept silently crying and while he still found you beautiful, he was itching to start a fight with that asshole of an ex you had.

Eren lifted your entwined hands to his lips, kissing them and making time stop. “I’m going to beat him,” he murmured against your knuckles.

You shook your head.

“He made you cry.”

You still shook your head, bowing to curtain your face with your hair.

“I hate it when someone makes you cry.” He gulped down the nervousness clogging his throat. “I fucking hate it when they managed to make the most amazing person fall in love with them and just break her heart after. Sweetheart, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” The term of endearment flowed from his tongue like it was meant to — natural. “You deserve so much more than this. You deserve…” Was he about to say, me? What the fuck was he thinking? Now, he was the one who shook his head, mainly to dispel the thought from his head. “You know,” his voice was so quiet, “someone is willing to give you the love you deserve and it will take some time to meet them.”

You took your hands from him and he panicked. Did he say something wrong? Synonymous thoughts pulsed through the walls of his head, that was until you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. With the way he was still sitting on his haunches, his face became buried in your chest. It was almost like you were the one comforting him and not the other way around. He should be the one doing the comforting but God damn it, your warmth made him melt in everything that you encompassed — scent, presence, just you and only you.

“I’m tired of finding that love.”

“You have me — us, Mikasa, Armin, and the rest of our friends,” the way he saved himself was pathetic.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You know I love you, right?”

Damn, there went that squeeze around his heart. He knew the meaning behind those words. You meant it in a more platonic manner because you never once said those three weighty words to your ex-boyfriends. Those who had the luxury to receive the phrase from you were your friends and it sadly included him. He didn’t want to walk around in this position. He wanted to be more. But that would mean you discovering his feelings for you. And yes, they ran deeper than the trenches discovered by mankind. You made him feel that kind of love — the type that gave him butterflies, tornadoes, bonfires, and all the seasons combined. You were the reason why he smiled most of the day, the reason why he looked at everything through a lens that presented all the colors in the spectrum and not just the usual hazy pink.

“Eren?”

He buried his face deeper in your chest, the song of your heartbeat lulling him. He wished it was faster like the way his own tapped inside him.

“I know.”

He once again masked everything by saying the words back, with more ferocity and affection and intensity than yours did.

“I love you, too.”

That day was the reason why you stopped entering into relationships not worth your time.

You deserve a love that is more than what you seek from forgettable faces.

So, you focus on yourself … and the way Eren makes you question these budding feelings now that junior year rolls around.

“Where did you get this?” Eren asks when he trails his eyes on your hand sitting idly on top of the desk the private study rooms of the library offer.

He’s sitting beside you trying to get some work done before finishing the study session and getting some food from the nearby restaurants in the university town (which is a short walk from the library you both chose). What should be a group session becomes a pair because apparently; Mikasa has to go prepare for her mock trial with the rest of her class, Armin has to finish the pending experiment his group is doing for one of his laboratory classes, Jean has to be a fucking responsible teaching assistant for once in his life, Sasha has to cover some restaurant for her review (the deadline being later at midnight), and Connie has to attend his goldfish’s funeral (he doesn’t have a goldfish; their dorm building doesn’t even allow pets).

You find their excuses plausible except for Connie, bless his soul and his imaginary goldfish. So, now you spend the rest of the free day with Eren in the library, booking one of the study rooms for some well-deserved peace. You’re listening to some of your favorite songs when he speaks, catching his lips moving at the corner of your eyes.

“Hmm?” you hum while pulling down your headphones around your neck.

“This.” The moment he takes your hand in his, your heart starts pacing faster. “Where did you get this?” Eren carefully and softly runs his finger on the spots of red on the skin of two of your fingers. The scars seem fresh because you flinch. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“I didn’t realize I had that until Mikasa pointed it out actually,” you answer him.

He winces. “You don’t have any band-aids?”

You shake your head. “I forgot to buy some.” The way he stares at you makes you pout. “I did forget, Eren.”

“Yeah, yeah, got that.”

You’re about to go back to studying when you feel a pair of lips graze the scars on your hand. Time slows down and you swear you witness the room illuminate. Eren has his eyes closed, his long eyelashes tickling your skin. You forget to breathe when he opens them to give you the sight of his teal irises reflecting your wide-eyed image. His lips are still on your hand, the tingling sensation of his growing smile traveling through your arm and to your chest, warming up every part of your body until you feel your face flare. The gesture is completely new to you.

“There,” Eren says. “Tell me if the pain starts acting up,” he pulls back and leans on his chair, your hand still tenderly cradled on his palm. “I’ll take it away.”

You take your hand from his and hide it from behind the sleeve of your fluffy cardigan. You try to bring back your concentration but all you can think of is the feeling of his lips on your fingers. While you’re berating yourself, you never notice Eren grinning beside you, his heart thankful that your friends ditched you two in this study session.

It’s only when you two walk to your favorite restaurant that you register how annoyingly cheesy all that was.

Today is not your day.

You’re walking in the halls of your department building and even with the flow of liveliness surrounding you, all you hear are muffled noises and the deafening footsteps echoing on the floor. You were doing fine when you entered your first lecture of the day — more than usual it seemed. The friends you made in some of your classes saw how you cackled near tears at some unfunny joke that shouldn’t warrant that much hysterical laughter. Nobody would even suspect that you feel so sucked of all the vibrancy you always carry in the pockets of your jeans after continuous periods of sitting on different-structured chairs and having to participate in some impromptu recitations. You love being in university — you really do. It’s just that there are certain aspects of it and specific time frames that you have to admit how exhausted you are. So, as your friends chatter around you, you keep your head angled to the floor, your hands keeping the laptop case close to your chest.

The conversation unfolding in your presence is interesting but all you can manage are tiny hums of agreement or weak chuckles. The subject switches from enduring another period of recits, to the laboratory reports that needed to be turned in, to how there should be another store in the university town that sells any kind of food, and to who is the reddest flag among your peers. It’s almost like you’re watching shows with your father — always flipping the channel until he finds the one he’s most comfortable with.

Your mind is both empty and running a thousand miles per step. Sleep beckons you in a way that you have no say over. You’re pretty sure Mikasa is going to cook something delectable as always — that’s one thing you’re looking forward to when you go home to your shared apartment. A heavy sigh comes out of your chest, lifting your shoulders from the weight Atlas transferred on you.

Looking at the floor becomes bland and you have to lift your eyes to what’s in front of you.

Right at the end of the hallway, where the building lets the outside light pass through the entrance and exit doors, are Eren and some of his classmates, probably just coming out of a recent class, judging by their sluggish nature. You two share the same department building despite having different majors — him with his pre-med and you with neuroscience. You recognize some of them in the group photos Eren was tagged in on Instagram, like that boy with auburn hair who sneers every time someone so much as breathes within the same space as Eren or that boy with the slicked-back blond hair and army green bomber jacket. And in the middle of the group is one of your best friends, teal eyes hooded with boredom and hair tied up in that effortless bun he likes so much. He doesn’t see you yet and you have the urge to call out to him but you don’t find the energy to. Your social battery is already on the brink of shutting down and guilt starts dripping into your stomach.

Almost like he senses you, Eren meets your eyes.

He stops in the middle of the hallway with his hands in his pockets and eyebrows furrowed. You keep walking with your now curious friends. Who is this guy staring at us? Wait, he’s kinda hot though. Damn it, now I have another crush in this stupid university. You can hear them talking but you see nobody but him, your sneaker-clad feet carrying you closer to him.

With only a few paces separating you from him, he retracts his hands from his pockets and opens his arms with that lax posture of his. His friends are looking at him like he’s crazy but you know what he’s doing.

Your lip wobbles and you let out a shaky breath. You’re walking faster now. Just a couple of steps away.

Eren wraps his arms around you once you reach him.

He threads his fingers through your hair, cradling your head close to his chest, while his other arm secures you to his body, silently pleading for you to never stray far. There’s a pounding in the air, with you not knowing whose heart composes the vivace tune; because right now, you can feel your heart racing despite the calm Eren induces in you.

You two stay like that — suspended at the moment. Nothing in the world matters except for you two. Words aren’t exchanged. The moment Eren sees you walking that way, he instantly knows. You have that connection with him. One look is all it takes for him to swoop in and let you feel that you have someone to lean on as he leans on you. You feel that sentiment in the way he slightly tightens his hold around you, pressing you more so that all you can hear is his breathing and his unsaid thoughts. The scent he carries entangles with yours, similar to how your hearts beat in complement to one another. You bury your face in his chest and he buries his own in your hair. The exhaustion makes your joints creak and your dim world seeps away the longer he softly scratches your scalp with tender strokes.

You nearly cry as his lips seal this moment with a firm kiss on the crown of your head.

“I got you,” Eren whispers to your ears only. “I always got you.”

Shit, there goes your heart.

“Your next lecture is still an hour later, right? Let’s go get some coffee.”

For the first time in months, hope blossoms and you willingly let it fester.

“You okay?” Mikasa asks you as soon as she gets inside your shared apartment. She slides her tote bag from her shoulder, all the while never taking her eyes off you as you stare at nothing in the living room, your revisions and notes scattering the coffee table. “Babes?” The term of endearment is so natural between you and Mikasa but you’re so out of it that you don’t hear her call for you. “[Name].” She taps your nose with the tip of her finger.

“Oh, welcome home,” you greet once you get out of that daze.

Mikasa looks at you a second longer and places her hand on your forehead.

“Mikasa?”

“No signs of fever,” she murmurs, cupping your face in her hands. “You’re not overworking yourself again, are you?” Her voice gains that stern tone. Trust Mikasa to always pull you to the ground whenever you have one of those study sprees, only having coffee for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “You know it hurts me to see you overworking. Hold on, let me whip up something for you.”

How can you tell her that you’ve been feeling unproductive because of her closest person? Because of that little heartstopping moment earlier, you’ve been in a constant spiral, neglecting your school work even when you already laid out everything in front of you. This isn’t like you at all — you’ve never been distracted because of a guy. You wonder what’s so different now. Eren has hugged you multiple times in the past and you even initiate most of them. So, why are you starting to sift through your memories with him and watching them in these pink-hazed 3D glasses? Every smile, every laugh, every eye contact that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the world for him … or just the way he makes your day better just by being there. You remember all the times he was about to storm across the cafeteria upon seeing one of your exes and the anger he embodied when he thinks of the way you’re always hurt.

This is bad — you’re seeing him differently after that hug and impromptu cafe hang-out.

The weight of that realization makes your heart race in a completely new tune, much clearer and melodic than the times you thought you experienced love in one of its forms.

“Mikasa.”

“Hmm?”

You can hear a pan sizzling from the kitchen. You remain looking at the coffee table, right at your phone lighting up with a notification, showing the world your wallpaper. Eren changed it to a picture of you two for fun. He was kissing your cheek, with you captured in a beautiful candid shot. You were laughing at the tickling sensation coming from his lips smiling against your skin. You never changed it. Mikasa chuckled to herself the first time she saw it. You could almost hear her say ‘idiots’ under her breath.

“Am I allowed to feel love again?”

You can sense your roommate turn around. It’s silent until she speaks in a clear voice, “You’re always allowed to feel love, [Nickname].”

“But what if I ruin it?”

Mikasa purses her lips. “You have never ruined anything. You might have small faults in those relationships but if your exes appreciated you just like they claimed, you wouldn’t hurt like this.” You’re still quiet and Mikasa thoughtfully turns back to make you a proper meal while continuing, “It’s okay to be afraid, [Nickname]. Falling in love is always a risk but it’s not good if you prevent it from happening. If that right someone comes, the jump you took to follow your feelings will be worth it in the end. It might cost you more heartbreaks along the way but everything will be amazing when that person is by your side.”

“And if I think I found him?”

The sound of Mikasa’s spatula stops, and the sizzle of the onions, garlic, and other vegetables persists through this pause. You take a peek at your roommate from behind the curtain of your hair, her back rigid and her hand holding the spatula hovering over the pan. “Miki?”

The girl shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I just remembered something,” she hastily tells you before swiveling to face you. Mikasa only displays emotions around certain people and you wish you could laugh at the disbelieving yet confused face she gives you right now. “You found him? And you think he’s the right someone for you?” She makes sure she doesn’t sound that skeptical to not hurt you anymore but she can’t help but feel like she’s been missing out on this recent development in your life. You've been roommates since freshman year and every time you fall in love, Mikasa is a witness to it, but not this one. This is a shock for her.

You nod at her, choosing not to use your voice this time

“Do I know this person?”

Your heart makes a flip in your chest. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugs. “Just checking. You know, to make sure. So, tell me about this lucky guy.”

“He … wears his heart on his sleeve.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “Even though that’s considered a weakness by some people, he manages to come this far by doing that. It’s one of the many things I adore about him.” You laugh a little. “He’s a little reckless most of the time. Oh, and he’s so brazen and sometimes broody, too. Those are some of the reasons why he gets into arguments with our friends. But even with all of that, he’s so attentive. The thing about people who wear their hearts on their sleeves is that they know when someone needs solace. He does that all the time and even without saying anything, my day just gets better with one hug from him.” You gain a blue blanket over yourself. “I just wish that I can give him the affection and care he’s always giving me. I know I’m bad at giving but … I’m willing to try for him.”

You look up and you feel your face heat up when you see Mikasa gawking at you. You watch as her face morphs into a rare smile that reaches her eyes. If you squint, you can see her holding back her squeal.

“And for that, I’m making this even more delicious just for you!”

And before you can call out to her, she’s going back and forth in the kitchen like a madwoman. Bewilderment is an understatement. One will think that Mikasa is the person falling in love inside this apartment and not you. A puff of laughter comes out of your lips, endeared by the sight of your best friend slash roommate being this ecstatic at the possibility of you in a stable and healthy development of feelings. You perch your chin on your propped elbow. Maybe you should hit up her favorite restaurant in the university town as a token of your gratitude, one that stems from three years of bonding.

“Confess to her.”

“Well, good-fucking-morning to you, too, Mikasa.”

It’s six in the morning on a Saturday. Eren deserves a full ten-hour cycle of sleep after that horrifying week he just survived.

“Oh, did I wake you up?”

Eren pulls away his phone from his ear and glares at it, hoping that the girl on the other side of the call picks up on this ominous atmosphere he‘s starting to create. “What do you think?” He spits, particularly snappy at anyone, even the person he grew up with, for disrupting his previously-earned slumber (for once in university, he finally has the chance to enjoy sleep without worrying over deadlines). He internally cries when he feels the last tendrils of drowsiness seep out of his skin and onto the open windows letting in a new dawn. He wants to go back to sleep but with Mikasa’s call, he pitifully kisses that goodbye.

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry.

“You don’t sound sorry,” Eren grumbles. “Why’d you call?”

A maniacal giggle tickles his ear, sending a shiver of fear down his spine.

“What the fuck—?”

“I have news.”

“Really?” He incredulously exclaims. “At six in the morning? Can’t you wait until like, what, later at noon to tell me? You know it’s my day off right now.”

“It’s about [Name].”

That catches Eren’s attention and he nearly throws himself off the bed.

“What?” He hastily stands up and fumbles to his closet for some decent clothing. “Is she alright? Is she hurt? Where is she right now? Does she need me to pick her up?” Silence is his answer. Eren again looks at his phone before putting it right next to his ear. “Mikasa? You still there?”

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to confess to her.”

“What?”

He can feel Mikasa roll her eyes. “It’s just like I said. Confess.”

Eren slowly takes a few steps back until his knees hit the mattress, letting him on the plush mattress. “What brought this on?” It’s not the first time his best friend tells him to pour all his well-kept emotions into you, the reason for his giddy smiles and sweet nights. Just thinking of letting you know of this three-year worth of feelings makes his heart beat faster. What if you reject him? He’s seen you swerve from any romantic advances a person sends your way, he’s seen you cry over assholes who thought it was best to play with you, and he’s seen you content with this relationship you have with him. Eren sighs out a breath tainted with the scent of the yellow tulips and pink camellias sprouting in his ribcage. It’s almost pitiful how heavy his sigh is. “And why are you so sure about this?”

“I know things you don’t.”

He scoffs, running his hand through his hair, the wavy brown strands falling over his collarbone. “Look, Meeks,” the nickname is always there when he’s feeling unsure of himself, “I’ve thought about it, okay? But I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Trust me on this one, Eren. Maybe you can even thank me in the future.”

“Mikasa,” he warns.

“Eren, you have nothing to worry about. She said some things to me last night and I think you have a chance. This will be the time you can finally be with her and this will also be the time she can have someone who’s going to wholeheartedly love her in a way that she should be loved. This is your chance—”

Eren tightly closes his eyes at every word Mikasa spews out. His chest is rapidly going up and down until, “I’m scared.”

“What?”

“I’m scared,” he enunciates as if talking to a pesky sibling (which is how she’s acting right now). “I’m fucking terrified, alright?”

He curses when he feels a stinging in his eyes. He’s not about to cry right now — not when Mikasa is on the other side of the phone. He knows how she is when he cries. Eren remembers that one time he bawled his eyes out when his mother decided it would be nice to keep all his games away for one night because he was acting like a brat. Mikasa sneaked into his parents’ room in the middle of the night and successfully took his game from their closet. Thank God his parents weren’t about to give him a baby sibling that night. Nonetheless, Mikasa’s protective instincts for her friends flare when they cry. She does that with him, Armin, and especially you. You’ve practically replaced Eren as her top priority. So, right now, Eren hopes Mikasa doesn’t hear the wobble in his voice but that’s highly unlikely.

He continues, “[Name] swore off relationships after her last heartbreak during sophomore year. I’m not about to go up to her and tell her ‘Hey, I’ve been crushing on you so so bad since we were freshmen and I know you probably see me as a friend but how about that date? You look lovely by the way’. It’s not that easy, Meeks. I … freeze when those words come up.” And when you look at him with those eyes he dreams about waking up to every morning — curved like crescents with genuine happiness and love for him, Eren’s a goner. You have that effect on him. Time slows and everything dissolves into nothing when you’ve only done one thing, and that’s smiling at him. God, he’s so in love with you that the thorns are starting to sprout with the flowers. “It’s pathetic.”

With the pause on the other side of the call, Eren would think that Mikasa drops it.

“Mikasa?”

“... She’s ready to love again, Eren, and she’s ready to do it with you in the picture.”

A goddess of time, that’s what you are, because, at those words, Eren’s entire world stops.

“I won’t say exactly what she said because that would mean telling on her but,” Eren hears a smile on Mikasa’s voice, “she told me she found the right someone for her and I think, scratch that, I know it’s you, Eren. So, take the risk and confess to her, you idiot.”

“Do you think she’d accept it? My confession?”

“I’m confident that she will.”

The moment Mikasa hangs up to cook you some breakfast, Eren is already out the door.

You’re in the process of placing things in your school bag for your study session in the nearest library when the doorbell rings.

Mikasa is in the kitchen cooking up a storm, something about giving you a bento box for your grueling revisions so that you won’t have to spend a couple of dollars for a cafeteria ticket, so you’re the one closest to the front door. You leave your bag and belongings on the couch, thinking that maybe Sasha wants to join you and Mikasa for some early breakfast. But then, the girl wakes up in the middle of the day during weekends. You now wonder who’s incessantly pressing the doorbell like they’re a kid in the Halloween season begging for the owner of the house for some free candy that they will neglect after a day. You refrain from grumbling out profanities and quickly open the door without a word. The irritated cloud hanging over your head clears at the sight in front of you. It’s replaced with warmth and a soft tune emanating from your chest.

Eren looks like he’s run a marathon, hands on his knees and hunching on his back to catch his breath.

“Eren, what are you doing here?” You ask him, looking back over your shoulder to check on Mikasa. You turn back to him once you see her preoccupied with cooking. “Come in. I’ll get you some water.”

“No,” he straightens his posture, “I’m alright.” He takes a couple of deep breaths, almost like he’s trying to gather courage. You never take your eyes off him. You’ve seen him with unbound hair; but seeing it after admitting to yourself that you’re having feelings for him, it’s not exactly kind to your heart. The glow of the early sun illuminating the window at the end of the hallway creates this illusion of a halo around his head. With the smile on his face, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and lets his little dimple peek through, you can’t help but think that he’s here to conduct this song beating inside your chest. You only blink when he sheepishly scratches his nape and says, “Can you come out here for a sec?”

You’re about to peek at Mikasa when he adds, “Please?”

His eyes flicker behind you but he tenderly wraps his hand around your wrist before you can even turn your head and pulls you out of the doorway.

“Eren, what is this about—?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart is beating a song and each note is about Eren Jaeger.

“And I have for quite some time. Since freshman year exactly. I’m so fucking in love with you that you’re the first thought I have in the morning and the memory I replay in my mind to sleep at night. You consume me, [Name], and God, I don’t know what I’d do if you start searching for love again. I don’t want you to find the one you’re looking for in someone that’s not me. Call me selfish but I decided that I'd gladly be that just to tell you my feelings. I don’t want to make a regret that will haunt me my whole life onward so, here I am, telling you how much I love you and I don’t want you with somebody else.” He’s breathing heavily again. “Woo, that feels so good to let out,” Eren murmurs under his breath, his head tilted back to blink away any sheen of tears.

Now that he’s said his piece, it’s your turn.

You can’t comprehend looking for any shed of love since you started university when it’s right in front of you — holding your hand when you cross the street, attentively listening to you as you ramble about your newest hyper fixation of the week, hugging you in the middle of the hallway when you have a bad day, kissing the scars you’re unaware of having, giving you the love and appreciation you deserve above all else … love has always been in the form of Eren, one of your best friends. You regret never seeing it come to light sooner. You place the palm of your hand over your trembling mouth. His expression wilts when he sees your teary state. They finally trickle down your cheeks as his large hands cup your face in a hold that says you’re more fragile than a lone bubble drifting in the air.

“Hey,” Eren breathes, his head ducking to meet your eyes. “Don’t cry. It pains me to see you cry.”

“But you—”

“It’s the truth. But if you feel like it’s making you sad, I’m taking it back.”

“No!” You cover his hands with yours. He blinks in surprise. “I’m just so happy, Eren.” You let out a watery laugh in between his palms.

Eren feels his breath taken away. “What?”

You nod with a large smile. “I’m happy you said those words. I,” you choke up; you haven’t received this intense of a confession in your lifetime, “because I—” he looks so expectant that a little laugh bubbles in your throat. You lean into his touch and beam the most radiant smile you ever give someone, “I’m starting to fall in love with you.” At his stunned silence, you continue. “And I’m sorry for being so late at reciprocating, but don’t worry because I’m saying it back now, Ren.”

Eren explodes, “Fuck yes!”

And then, he hugs you close, letting you hear the tumultuous beat his heart is telling you. His laughter beckons yours to bubble from your chest, molding together harmoniously as the sun fully waves her greeting to the world. He blankets you in one of his embraces, but this time, he’s taking this chance to pull you closer than usual. Eren is this happy to know you are accepting his confession and returning his feelings, how much more if you’re going to build a slow romantic relationship with him? You’re not going to lie, the thought of you and him being each other’s partners spurs spring to grow inside your chest. You place your forehead on his chest for a moment, only pulling away when he once again cups your face in his palms. The melodic laughter coming from you sings its notes with every kiss Eren gently presses on every inch of skin his lips can find. Your forehead, temples, cheeks, eyelids, nose, the corners of your mouth — and all of them tickle each butterfly tingling your stomach.

He only pauses when he’s in front of your lips. You open your eyes to find Eren staring at you with the immutable essence of love within his limbal rings. His pupils cover the majority of his iris until only a tiny ring of emerald peeks through. Your reflection is clear enough to see your wide-eyed expression. You expect him to kiss you breathlessly, erasing every thought in your brain so early in the morning, but instead, he nuzzles his nose against yours, all the while maintaining eye contact.

“We’ll take this slow, okay?” Eren whispers only for you to hear, not even the potted plant idly sitting by your apartment’s door can listen in. “I know you’re tentative but I’m willing to be patient. I will wait for you no matter how long it takes like I’ve waited three years for you to finally see me differently. And you don’t have to worry because, sunshine, I’m always here to catch you, to care for you, to love you with everything I have. So, are you willing to give me a chance?”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. You nod, “Yeah. If it’s you, I’m ready to give romance a chance again, pretty boy.”

His grin can make a thousand moons shine.

“We have nothing to lose.”

“Yeah.”

“I finally have you with me.”

“I’m now with you, Ren.”

“God, sunshine, I’m so in love with you.”

"And I'm falling for you, pretty boy."

#— rory's passages 🌼#— serotonin boost 💐#eren attack on titan #eren x reader #eren x you #aot x reader #attack on titan eren #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren aot #attack on titan imagines #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #eren x y/n

373 notes · View notes

kaihuntrr · 7 days

Text

one-year anniversary!

HI. oh my goodness can you believe its been a WHOLE YEAR (and a day, im posting this a day later OOPS-) since i started working on this au? i dont think i started working on the chapters until... the -ber months? but the general brainstorming started now and oh my GOD the amount of changes that has happened while working on this au is insane! im absolutely floored with how much people enjoy this au, and while im too busy to be posting art (im doing some personal work!) i have all the time in the world to talk about how much this means to me.

i've written things in the past, but i havent for the LIFE of me worked on such a long project such as this (we're only halfway through act one of FIVE!) and learning and growing with such wonderful betas and partner (ehehe @mewhoismyself hello there) is just so wonderful <3

SO! in order to make this anniversary special, i've decided to post a little cut/practice scene from act two! this couldnt make the cut with what the plot has in mind, but i figured itd be best to have some nice moments with scott and martyn, eh?

OH! and before i go, the next chapter will be posted a day earlier! <3 im going abroad the day after the original chapter posting date, so i need to rest. i think this back half of the fic is gonna be really something <3

anyway, i wont keep you here for longer. i hope you have a fun time reading this, just as much as my partner and i had fun writing this so many months ago <33

Martyn tried to listen as Scott rambled on about what he’d been up to, how nice it had been to see his friends again. He even tried to let the small twist of jealousy at Scott being so happy over seeing someone else wrench his attention back into the moment, but it didn’t work. The face of Pearl kept flashing in the forefront of his mind, her eyes and jagged scar glowing unnaturally under the moonlight.

“Oh, and…,” Scott continued to ramble on, but Martyn still couldn’t focus. It seemed that Scott had noticed as his voice trailed off and he looked at the blonde with a tilted head. “Martyn…?”

Martyn gave a grumbled response. His mind blocked out the world around him as he pictured brief flashes of the island, the hollow and desolate stares of the people, the wicked laugh coming from Pearl….

Scott sighed. “Martyn….”

Martyn could still feel a slight buzz in his head from where he was hit. How much blood did he lose back there? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was glad to be alive. Glad that he was here, still breathing, like everyone else. Glad that he was–

“Martyn!”

Martyn jerked as Scott’s face was suddenly inches from his own. Scott’s lips were twisted into a pout and his eyebrows were drawn into a scowl. “Huh- sorry, what?”

Scott sighed, letting his head fall forward, “So you weren’t listening to me….”

“No!” Martyn said quickly, throwing his hands up. Panic leapt in his chest, making his heart beat faster. He didn’t want Scott to think he was ignoring him…! “No, I- I’m… I’m sorry…,” he hung his head. “I’m trying to listen- I’m not meaning to ignore you, I just….” Martyn looked down at the sand beneath him. Guilt welled up in his throat. He’d been so eager to see Scott while he was away, and before he’d gotten back, and now that he was actually here… Martyn was ignoring him. He was making Scott feel ignored.

Martyn shook his head, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “So, you said you saw your friends, right? Did you have fun-? Oh, what am I saying, you just said you had fun- haha…,” Martyn scrubbed the back of his head, then straightened up, rolling to his feet. “Hey, do you wanna go see if we can find your bird friend? I bet it’s missed you too!” He pointed towards a path leading up to the forest, “Bet he lives in there somewhere…!”

“Um- Martyn…,” Scott trailed off looking after him.

Martyn took a few steps backwards, away from Scott, and spread his arms, hoping he’d follow. “Or we can go down to the beach! It’s a nice day, it’ll feel great to splash in the water a little.”

“Martyn.”

“Or- oh, we can go see the decorations they’re setting up for the festival down in the center of town. You said you were excited right, so we can-!”

“Martyn!” Scott snapped.

Martyn stopped.

Scott took the few steps to close the distance between them, laying his hand on Martyn’s arm, then sliding it down to take his hand. He tilted his head, giving Martyn big sad eyes. “Martyn, talk to me…. What’s wrong?”

It was hard for Martyn to not crack under Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…,” he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. He was just engrossed in them a second ago, but now, trying to tell Scott, he couldn’t think of what to say. “I… uh….”

“You’re alright, Martyn,” Scott rubbed his thumb over Martyn’s hand in a small, circular motion. “Take your time.”

A small pause fell over him. Martyn could hear the slow ebbs of the waves before he managed to speak. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” his voice spat with venom. Pearl’s sadistic glee, her manic grin, her ever-looming presence burned in his head. Martyn’s grip unknowingly tightened around Scott until he looked the other in the eye. His grip on Scott lessened as he looked away. “What good can I be to protect you, when I can’t defend myself from one person?”

“Who said I needed protecting?” Scott raised an eyebrow, his tone still soft but with a hint of skepticism as he leaned to the side to catch Martyn’s gaze again. He let out a weak chuckle and moved his other hand to rest on Martyn’s cheek. “Besides, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Martyn leaned into the touch, not caring how warm his cheeks felt as Scott’s delicate hand pressed into his skin, lightly grazing over the scar Pearl caused. He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. “But I want to…,” he muttered. He looked at Scott, his face scrunched with worry. “I don’t want you getting hurt at all, Scott.”

“There’s going to be times where I get hurt, Martyn,” Scott narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Martyn’s cheek. Martyn was wide-eyed, only for Scott to hold the hunter’s other hand. “When that happens, all I’d ask is for you to help me get back on my feet.”

Martyn could feel his nerves freeze up at Scott’s warm hold. His gentle stare and concern on his face nearly caused Martyn’s heart to explode. A million things swirled in his mind as the breeze wafted over. “I can’t help it,” he lowered his head, biting his lip. “You should be protected, with all the chaos going around–”

“What chaos?” Scott cracked a smile and shook his head. He shrugged, letting go of one of Martyn’s hands as he gestured around. “All there is to see is you, me, and the beach. Nothing to worry about, right?”

Nothing to worry about for now, but so many things could happen in the blink of an eye. Martyn could practically hear the sound of the sea princes’ ringing in his ears, the one from his dreams laughing as its mouth opened wide to swallow Scott as he screamed-....

No. Martyn needed to be prepared for anything, so nothing bad could ever happen to the people he cared for. Nothing. Never again.

“I still want to fight for you,” his voice was barely a whisper in the wind, cracking a bit from the emotions that crawled up the back of his throat. But seeing Scott’s attentive look, with the slight tilt of his head, Martyn knew he could hear him. “Can I at least do that?” he pleaded. He needed to-. He needed to.

“You may,” Scott nodded, giving him a small smile. Then his eyes narrowed as a smirk crept onto his lips. “So- I’d like to see how you fight.”

Martyn opened his mouth to respond- just in time for a woosh of breath to leave him as his back hit the ground. Martyn gasped, blinking for several seconds as he tried to figure out he’d gotten laid flat out on his back… with a certain ginger pinning his shoulders to the sand.

“Yikes…,” Scott teased, his eyebrows rising, complimenting the wide grin on his face.

Martyn sputtered, his face immediately flushing beat red. “I wasn’t ready! Sneak- sneak attack…!”

Scott laid one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top of it and laying his cheek in his hand. “Most things will take an opportunity for a sneak attack, when presented with one.” He kicked his feet in the air, as if he was lounging on a couch reading a book.

Martyn flushed all the way to his ears. “Redo!”

Scott leaned his head down, smiling at Martyn in a way that was almost sickeningly sweet. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?”

Martyn grabbed Scott by the shoulders and surged upwards, knocking the ginger off of him. Scott laughed as he slipped his grip, ducking under one of Martyn’s arms to wrap his arms around Martyn’s torso.

Before Martyn’s brain could fully process that, Scott had rolled Martyn over top of him and planted him flat on his back again.

Working on instinct more than pre-thought, Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and kicked off the sand. He knocked his thigh against Scott’s hip, bumping him off balance just enough to send them rolling over again.

But Scott didn’t end up on his back underneath Martyn.

Somehow, mid flip, he’d slithered around Martyn’s torso, ducking his arm again and getting outside of his hold. Martyn ended up with his face in the sand and a knee pressed between his shoulders, shoving him down further.

Martyn was about to push himself up with his arms, using his strength advantage to throw Scott off of him, but Martyn froze when he felt something sharp curl around his throat.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even swallow. He could barely even breathe.

Suddenly the sharp points of crescent bladed scythes were touched against his neck so delicately. Suddenly the sharp claws of a hungry beast wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin above his jugular. One wrong move and she’d slid his throat. One wrong breath and the beast would tear him to ribbons.

A figure above him bent down to whisper in his ear.

“I win!” Scott chirped brightly. He laughed as he withdrew his fingernails from where he’d curled them around Martyn’s throat. “You really do need more practice. Though I’d be happy to oblige…,” his voice turned sing-songy as he plopped back on the sand, his arms holding him up.

Martyn slowly pushed himself upwards, staring down at the sand where his face had been in utter bafflement. Why had that felt-? Why was he-? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why… did he feel like he’d just been hunted…?

“That- that uh…,” Martyn stammered, not really sure what he wanted to say. “You’re a lot better fighter than I thought you’d be.” He turned his head to look at Scott, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his knees.

“I know,” Scott smiled widely, tipping his head back and forth, “Do I impress you, Martyn?” He smiled and hummed teasingly, his eyes narrowed in a joyful satisfaction.

“Always,” he breathed, a lot more genuine and heartfelt than he’d meant to. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Martyn felt his face flush and he looked down at the sand. Well, he was in this far. “I think you’re amazing.”

“Thank you…,” Scott said with a shy little smile. A light hint of red dusted his cheeks. He looked… really nice like that.

Martyn shook his head, roughly clearing his throat. “Well um, as- as fun as this was… I was actually referring to- to my gun combat more than my hand-to-hand.”

“Uh huh,” Scott answered with a small smirk, not sounding like he believed him. “Well, maybe I could help you with that as well.”

“You know how to use a gun?” Martyn asked, more than a little shocked. How… how much did he really know about Scott?

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked to the side, then looked back at Martyn. “Noooo…?” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, “To be honest I thought you were still flirting, not that that was a serious question. And now, well… I’m just embarrassed.”

“Oh.” Martyn tried to hide his sigh of relief. It was one thing to just not know that Scott was a capable fighter -he was a tavern keeper who dealt with rowdy drunks all the time, Martyn honestly should have expected it- but it was another thing to not know that Scott was a trained gunman. For some reason they felt different. Martyn felt a grin split his face. “Would-... would you like me to teach you…?”

“Teach me what?” Scott’s eyebrows pinched together for a brief moment, then shot up towards his hairline, “How to use a gun?”

“Yeah,” Martyn grinned, “It’ll be like the time I was taught!”

“When were you taught?” Scott tilted his head.

“I think I was… seven? My parents knew I wanted to be a hunter, so they taught me,” Martyn hummed, looking out at the beach. He could remember the eagerness in his voice when he asked his parents to teach him. He only knew of the dangers through them and the people he lived around, but he knew his heart was calling out to the sea more than anything else. “I needed practice, like everyone else, but I’m a natural. A crack shot, they’d told me!” He laughed. Shooting a target from far away was much easier than fighting with swords or his bare hands.

Scott blinked, processing Martyn’s words. He slowly turned his head to Martyn, eyes widening in shock as all sense of his playfulness dropped. “You were a child when you learned how to use those?”

“Yeah…? I wanted to be a hunter, Scott, so I learned early.” Martyn looked at Scott and shrugged, feeling the ginger’s gaze on his skin felt… different. Martyn learned how to use guns to be a hunter, not to– oh. Was Scott thinking Martyn would…? Martyn shook his head and raised his hands up. “But I can’t shoot a person. A sea monster is easy because they’re big and stupid, but a person…?”

Scott had a judgemental look on his face as it scrunched up. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on it as he sighed. “Ending a person’s life is hard, and I’m happy you haven’t shot anyone, but…,” he trailed off. Martyn leaned closer to Scott as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a little concerning?”

“What’s concerning?”

“You learned how to shoot things, how to kill things, as a kid,” Scott looked away, gripping his arms tighter as he watched the waves flow in and out. “Every life has a purpose; from you, to me, and even the beasts in the ocean.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. Exactly what purpose could those monsters serve? Being ocean terrors? An effective way to kill humans and destroy ships? To bring fear in the hearts of children? To kill Ren- Jimmy? Why were there monsters in the ocean? Why should there be?

“They’re monsters, Scott.” Martyn hissed, anger rising in his voice.

“They’re animals,” Scott hissed back, his face pinching into an expression that was almost pained. “They’re just animals….”

“They’re heartless, cruel, and always starving.” Martyn huffed, pulling out his gun to examine it under the sunlight. Horrible beasts. Disgusting monsters. Murderers. “They’re such horrible, unnatural beasts that every mechanic in the world works to develop better guns and weapons to kill them all.”

He didn’t fully notice the way Scott shied away from the gun in his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t need to leave the kingdom to see those ugly things,” Martyn spat.

“Ugly…,” Scott grumbled, turning his head away, like he was offended by the notion. “Well, I’m sure most of them would think the same about you.”

Martyn blinked, giving Scott a double take. Ugly…?

Scott let out a sigh as he stretched and uncurled his legs and arms to stretch out in front of him. He picked up a small handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. “Every life is precious, every life is running on limited time. I’m not an idiot. I know things die. But there’s no reason to cut it shorter than it needs to be. ” He smiled wistfully, tossing the rest of the sand forward. “The sea is… scary, but maybe if you had an open mind, you’d see there’s more to it than monsters.”

Martyn followed Scott’s gaze and stared. Was there anything more to them? Surely not. The fondness in Scott’s voice was hard to believe- but the man has never even seen any beast to Martyn’s knowledge. The fond tone that Scott spoke about those- those monsters with… it honestly made Martyn angry. Those monsters took away the people he cared about. The people he loved. People he cherished. Jimmy, Ren… and so many other innocent people lost their lives to the sea, Lizzie’s parents…. The ocean took all of them, and there was nothing to blame but the monsters that infested it.

“They’re monsters, nothing more than that,” he spat, emotions in his chest wrenching into a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. He swung his arm out to the side, bringing his gun up in front of his chest as he rose to his knees, almost looming over Scott. “I know what they are, Scott, and I know I’m doing all that I can to protect you and the rest of the kingdom from the beasts that would just as quickly swallow you whole as they would crush you into pieces!”

“There’s no need for you to be so hostile about it,” Scott snapped at Martyn, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare that felt like icy daggers stabbing into Martyn’s face. Scott stood up and brushed all the sand from his clothes with a sigh. “I understand.” He walked closer to the water, just enough for the waves to lap against his shoes and tightened his fist, as if preventing to lash out.

Martyn blinked. “Was I-?” he muttered to himself.

He looked out at Scott standing in the surf. He looked… sad. The guilty feeling in his chest built up once more.

All of a sudden, Martyn remembered just how happy Scott looked with his birds fluttering around him, with the canary nuzzling his palm. Oh-. Scott was an animal lover…. No wonder he-.

Martyn was messing everything up. First he’d ignored him, and he was pushing Scott away by getting angry. Martyn quickly stood up and ran across the beach towards Scott, “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry–”

Scott turned to look at him, a flat expression on his face.

Martyn felt his heart twist, “I- I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to make you feel….”

“Upset?” Scott supplied.

“Yeah…,” Martyn bowed his head. His hand twitched out, reaching for Scott’s but giving up and retreating before he could take it. Martyn turned his head away and bit his lip. “I-... I made you-....”

Scott stepped closer and held out his hand. “No need for that, silly hunter,” he smiled sweetly. Martyn took it almost immediately, surprising them both. Scott let out a chuckle and bumped his shoulder next to Martyn’s. “I’m not mad,” Scott said softly. Martyn believed him. He looked… sad instead.

“I don’t want you to–”

“You’re just fine.” Scott assured him with a smirk. “It takes a lot more than a simple disagreement to make me actually upset. We’re okay, right?”

Martyn bashfully nodded, resulting in a wide smile from Scott. Was he… really okay? Or was he just hiding how he felt? For Martyn’s sake? Martyn hoped it was the former.

Scott put a hand on his chest, giving Martyn’s hand a small squeeze. “Just… try to keep an open mind, alright? The world can be… stranger than you might think.” He smiled a little bashfully, “I might have- a surprise or two… to share, eventually.”

“Like how you can kick my butt in hand to hand?”

Scott’s face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Just like that.”

Martyn felt himself smiling, a laugh escaping him as he squeezed Scott’s hand. Yeah, they were okay.

#the sea prince au #sea prince chapters #limited life smp #limited life #life series #life smp #trafficblr #majorwood #mean gills #coral kids #scottyn #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #sea prince extras

23 notes · View notes

abalonetea · 5 months

Text

Hi! It’s been a while since I did anything like this! My name’s Katie – and I publish under K. E. Koontz over on Amazon, and Abalonetea on patreon! I used to train horses for a living but now I’m a professional freelance ghostwriter and dev/con editor (I sometimes do beta reading and outline making too!).

I’m the sole working individual in a household of four (plus many furry friends), partially blind, fully disabled, and always looking to make new friends in the writeblr community. My favorite thing in the whole world to write about are werewolves and you’ll see them a lot on my blog. I’m a big fan of horror, high fantasy, and any story that lets me mash twenty different genres together.

My big end goal is to eventually not have to ghostwrite other people’s works and to just rely on my own writing to support the family. It’s a far off dream but I’m slowly getting there!

But Katie, what do you write about? This answer changes constantly but some of my current favorites right now are…

Twice Bitten, the sequel to my YA werewolf novel, Howl, which is also about werewolves

Gorehound, the sequel to my horror novel, Coaltown, which is about monsters in the Alaskan wilds

SHED, which pretends it’s a monster story but really it’s a psychological thriller about loving your best friend so much that you’ll do literally anything to keep them safe

Of Wolves, a 2nd person PoV story about zombies in the Appalachian mountains

Abyss, a super long high fantasy about healers and curses and chosen ones (there’s a werewolf here too)

The Possession of Joshue Roe, as the title implies a possession horror novel but this one is also about best friends

(and if you've been here a while and you're going what about IDS85? well, that one is finished and getting published next month oops)

Some other story ideas I really like but I’m not actively writing are…

Like Clay, a super long story about monster hunters, angels, and werewolves, and also two guys that have the absolute worst lives you’ve ever seen

Pretty Things, following an Anatolian shepherd puppy who has to guard his flock of sheep from wolves once the farmer goes missing

Three Years A Dog, this one is more werewolves but high fantasy

The Summer Murphy Jones Dies, also about werewolves but it’s set on the coast

Dog Hunt, this one is about werewolves and the outline is at 8k and not finished yet

I try really hard to stay up to date on what people are doing on here but my brain is pretty much mush at all times and The Struggle Is Real.

You can catch me on @sweetwatertales too, which is where I post about my romance novel endeavors (Greek Vacation, published, but soon to be also Midwest Station) and eventually I’ll get active on my crime thriller blog, @gravelydevoted where I mostly will be posting about Meathook and Capetown Killers.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #reintroduction

38 notes · View notes

dramaticvhs · 1 year

Text

5 sterek fic recs

here are some fics I've read recently that I encourage you to check out!! I've enjoyed all of them immensely and I hope you will too :)

all are completed unless stated otherwise. please check tags before you read, some contain sensitive content.

Thirty Messages by Julibean19

(Teen and Up, 16k, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

“Look. I think my friend is obsessed with you… or your cell phone at the very least. And if your stupid fucking voice saying the same two words is all he’s ever gonna have of you, then you have to let him go. You don’t let him get attached and you don’t drag it out. If you hurt him, or lead him on, even just a little bit, I swear to God I will kill you. So call him back, and end it.”

In which Derek leaves town with Cora, and Stiles thinks he might be going insane... because no one would leave this many rambling voicemails for someone they weren't even dating... right?

what a big heart i have (better to love you with) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(Teen and Up, 20k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Stiles has a massive thing for Derek Hale.

This is not news. Stiles, after all, has been carrying a torch for Derek ever since they bumped into each other at a taco cart at the start of his freshman year.

But what is news? With no hope of ever capturing Derek’s attention, Stiles is thinking it might be time to let that torch go. Try to let it burn out.

(Derek might have something to say about that.)

Derek Didn't Know What To Do But Maybe Stiles Did by tiedtogetherwithadagger

(Teen and Up, 13k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

He let his head fall onto Stiles’ shoulder with a sigh of relief. He wasn't losing his pack, at least not tonight. Erica would be okay.

“Thank you,” Derek exhaled into Stiles’ hoodie.

“Always,” Stiles said.

Pack Up; Don't Stray by the_deep_magic

(Explicit, 55k, No Archive Warnings Apply)

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

Bad Dreams by Smowkie

(Mature, 5.7k, Graphic Depictions of Violence)

The sword glinted in the moonlight and Stiles groaned as he twisted it in his dad’s stomach.

“Please stop,” John said weakly, blood trickling down his cheek. “Please, Stiles, stop.”

It felt so good, though, and Stiles sucked in a breath as the euphoric rush of pain and fear from his dad filled him. He grinned and John flinched. “I don’t think I will,” Stiles said.

Stiles woke up with a gasp and he sat up and pushed the cover off himself, sweat making his t-shirt cling to his torso. Counting his fingers he slowly started to breathe normally again, and when the panic attack wasn’t threatening to take over he rubbed his face and looked at the time. 4 am. Well, three hours of sleep was better than nothing.

I made this list a month ago and forgot to post it... oops.. If you're up to it I always love finding new fics so a comment or reblog with your favorite fics are welcome. also my dms are open for recs :) I'm trying to figure out how to set up my ask box which is not easy in my silly little brain, but maybe it'll be open for recs soon

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #fanfic #fic rec #stiles stilinski #sterek fic recs

229 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

the freak and the hair and lex

it's time for the weekly fic rec, where i give the top 3 (to me) fics by some of my favorite authors. please always check out their masterlists/works because these authors may have stuff you love even more than what i put here! as always, check tags before reading and leave kudos and comments and reblog whenever possible to support writers!

this week is @thefreakandthehair and let me tell ya, this was one of the hardest weeks to narrow it down to my top 3. i have gone back and forth on lex's works for three days trying to narrow it down (and also realized at some point i missed a few posts so i'm about to do a binge read oops). lex is so talented and does so many things for the fandom, so everyone go celebrate her gifts to us!

lex's tumblr | lex's ao3

rounding third, sliding home Rated E | wip/big bang fic The much anticipated big bang fic is in progress and it's SO GOOD. I don't even like baseball, but Lex is proof that I can and will like any situation these boys are in. Massage therapist Eddie!!! Hello!!! I don't have to go into detail to let you know how that's going. Favorite part: Honestly, since it's a wip, I don't wanna give one yet. But I will say that the overall premise of a massage therapist being able to do what trainers and doctors couldn't makes something really happy in my brain.

ice is made to melt (so is my heart) Rated M | 1,507 words It's hockey. I sniff out hockey fics like a hunting dog. I mean it's literally just hockey fan Eddie and I'm eating it up like I've been starving for years. Favorite part because these are possibly word for word things I have screamed at my television at the Bruins whomst I love with my entire heart but would beat with a hockey stick if given the chance: "Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?” “The puck goes in the net!” "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!”

Livin' On A Prayer Rated E | 17,915 words It's the classic idiots in love but don't realize it even though they basically have been boyfriends the entire time trope and I cannot get enough. It's like a slow-fast burn in the sense that they're dumb, but this is still short enough to binge in one relatively quick go. Favorite part which is kinda a spoiler so: “And I know myself well enough to know that I would die before letting anything happen to you, especially after nearly losing you once already, so I felt like being here was safest. And I— I don’t mean the same way that I love the kids or Robin or really anyone else. I’d die for them too but that’s— that’s not my point. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I know this is one sided or whatever but I just, I’ve been wanting to tell you just to get it out of me because carrying this around alone for months and months has been wrecking me… I think I’m in love with you.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fic rec

41 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 1 year

Note

There something about the French Revolution fetishizers that confuses me. Should we tell them that the France colonized the living fuck out of the Middle East and Africa. And also been connected to several assassinations of African countries heads of state?

The French empire was some of the most evilest motherfuckers on the planet with the likes of British empire. But Hitler just happened to kick off ww2 so the French and British use that to hide their atrocities in textbooks.

Not saying all French people are evil, but we really need a course on the evil shit the French empire did. Why do leftists romanticize the French Revolution? The evil they hate just stop wearing crowns and switch to top hots.

UK hasn't managed to keep that kind of thing down so well, France still has a few "colonial" territories left too, one of them I popped up a bit back island with about 200,000 inhabitants that overwhelmingly voted to stay French, doing otherwise was economic suicide.

But as for hiding their sins, not sure if the hiding was done on purpose or if it was just a case of it being overshadowed by people that would rather bitch about the US and UK, odd since many of the issues in the middle east are a direct result of the UK and France going behind the US's back so they could do what folks consistently bag on the US for. AKA they wanted that oil.

Back to fun with France, the year was 2015 and I promise there's a point.

How dare they do that with a "traditional" dish

Yes manipulation of the "traditional" recipe for "traditional" Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwich.

They replaced the "traditional" Vietnamese crispy baguette bread with non Vietnamese ciabatta bread.

Because the baguette is a traditional Vietnamese food steeped in thousands of years of culture and not something that was brought over by the French when the whole area was known as French Indochina and its capital was Saigon.

French left the area in 1954, so not too long ago.

Food is a screwy thing from a cultural standpoint, potatoes will forever be associated with Ireland even though they didn't exist outside of south america until the age of exploration. Don't even try to figure out who invented hummus just eat it, sausages and dumplings exist everywhere the contents are the only thing that changes.

Fortune cookies were brought to America by Japanese immigrants and managed to get associated with Chinese food because of WW2 and prejudice. That's one story at least.

Tangent over, maybe one day I'll go into how yoga is actually Dutch tho.

but ya, for some reason people forget how big the French empire was, it included Mexico at one point even now it's pretty much just French Guyana, it's weird really you'll hear more about the Belgian Congo than French Morocco, granted France didn't treat the people of Morocco nearly as bad as Leopold did the people of the Congo so there is that.

Spain still has a little corner of North Africa that's connected to Morocco I think it is, that's about all they have left of their empire other than one of the most widely spoken languages in the world.

Wildest thing about France in all of this is how many times the place shifted power, topple the monarchy still got all the colonies, first republic falls to napoleon, still got the colonies, 2nd republic pops in still got the colonies, here comes napoleon again, colonies, 5 republics, 2 empires, and a hereditary monarchy, oop can't forget the vichy nazi collaborators either, Petan should have already been dead imho but that's a different story.

Imagine being a French colonial governor when the revolution started, managing to keep your post and ride the whole thing out then the republic that was formed falls to Napoleon, then the Burbons pop back in for a few months, what a mess.

This was long but I hope entertaining in a way and maybe enlightening too, I could keep rambling like this lot of interesting things and my brain functions like a wikipedia tree when it starts in on things like this so I have to force myself to stop.

#anonymous

73 notes · View notes

krenenbaker · 9 months

Text

Stop the World - 3: Please

Pairing: Malleus/Cater

Warnings/Features: Angst with a happy ending, (somewhat?) possessive Malleus Draconia, questionably suggestive at the end... but that's COMPLETELY up to the reader's interpretation :)

Summary: Cater and Malleus have found a comfortable rhythm to their lives in their last year at Night Raven College. But as the threat of change creeps closer, their fears about the future do too.

The Couple: Looking ahead, into the future

Notes: Finally, after over a month (oops!), this short fic has concluded! This was a good learning experience for me, and I had quite a bit of fun writing it. It ended up taking a slightly different direction than I had originally anticipated, but I like how it turned out here. :) I know that many of my lovely moots are more 'canon x reader' fic readers/writers, so I really appreciate your support on this 'canon x canon' piece!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @inkybloom-luv, @silvers-numberonefan, @azulashengrottospiano (if you'd like to be tagged, or not tagged, in the writing I post, please let me know!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Version (ft. all chapters)

After the sun dipped past the horizon, Cater glanced up towards his boyfriend. "What's running through your mind there? You look, like, super serious right now."

"Hm?" Malleus turned his gaze from the sky. "Nothing serious, I assure you. You seem cold, we should head inside."

"Ehh, no, I'm a-okay rn!" Cater shook his head. "But Mal, I've got to know. What were you thinking about?"

"I was contemplating our future."

"Ah."

Cater tore his line of sight away from Malleus' intense gaze, and the air seemed to grow still around them, even though the leaves in the trees were rustling audibly.

Cater then heard a quiet chuckle, before Malleus murmured into his ear, "You now appear deep in thought, Treasure. Is there something troubling you?"

"Oh, I'm just... thinking."

"Well well, I'm not sure I knew you could do that."

Cater turned to face a small smirk. "Hey!" Cater laughed, with a gentle smack to Malleus' arm. "That was totes rude, Mal! I'm wounded!"

Cater's smile faltered, then dropped as he looked off into the distance again. "Malleus, what's going to... no, never mind."

Malleus gave his darling's hand a small squeeze. "Please, tell me."

Giving a gentle squeeze in return, Cater took a shaky breath. In as measured a voice as he could manage, he asked, "What's going to happen to us? Like, at the end of this year?"

Summoning up the courage to turn back to Malleus, Cater looked back into his eyes. "Listen, I don't want to get all sad or whatever here, but, I've been thinking... what if this was a mistake?"

Malleus's expression fell, a flash of darkness crossing his face. "Excuse me?" Does he think we shouldn't be together any more? Or at ALL?

"No, no, no. I mean... ugh, I'm terrible at this." Cater took a deep breath and ran his free hand down his face. "We've got our internships next year, right? And I thought, we probably won't go to the same place. And I mean," he began to speak faster, "I'm used to moving by now, you know? Just going to a new place and leaving people behind and stuff. It's become normal. But I just..." Cater paused, forcing himself to slow down, "I just feel like this time it's different... 'cause I'm with you. 'Cause I love you."

"What do you mean, Cater?"

He used my first name? "I mean," Cater swallowed thickly, "I don't want to leave. I don't wanna leave you. "

Malleus placed his hand on Cater's cheek. "Do you think you must?"

"I...", Cater froze, then slightly leaned into the touch. "I don't know. I don't want to. I just thought I'd need to, I guess, since we'd both be away from NRC next year."

"You're correct about that, I suppose," Malleus said softly. "But, what if... we could intern in the same place?"

Cater's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Wait, pause there. What?"

"I will go where you go. Or you can come with me. If it's alright with you, I want to find a way to remain together, because," Malleus drew his arms around his Treasure, Cater, before whispering, "I love you with my whole being, and I won't lose you. Not now."

Cater's breath caught in his throat. He'd come with me? He wants to stay with me? Nobody, in the dozen or more places he'd moved had ever wanted to stay with him; to follow him. This was new. This was... nice.

"Okay," Cater murmured into the dark fabric on Malleus' shoulder, before drawing back to look into his eyes. "I won't lose you either, Mal. We'll figure something out... together."

A soft breeze picked up a couple of fallen leaves in front of the couple, swirling them in a sort of gentle dance.

"Um, but first, Mal," Cater said, getting to his feet, "Let's go inside. I... actually am kinda cold." Cater held out his hand for his love (even though he knew he didn't need to).

Malleus smiled, taking his human's outstretched hand and standing up. "I thought you may be."

"Oh shush. You and your... what, intuition? Powers? I don't even know, babe. Anyways, do you want to come in for some tea? I think we have time before Riddle would call us out for it being too late," Cater said with a smile.

Malleus dipped his head. "As always, my dearest Cater."

Even if the school year was coming to an end, the love and support that Malleus and Cater found in each other would continue, however they chose to do so. For now, they would simply enjoy their time, their tea, and whatever else the evening had in store.

#twst #malleus draconia #cater diamond #mallekei #malleus x cater #twisted wonderland #krenenbaker's :)#Et c'est fini!#thanks to the people who have read these - I sincerely appreciate it ♡#Danke sehr!#I tried my best with Cater's speech patterns (as he was translated in the EN game) but GOSH IT WAS HARD #also I think need to practise writing things with integrated dialogue #because it took a LOT of brain power for me to figure out how to get the speech and action to mesh in a way that felt comfy to me #but! I'm very happy with how this ended up!#maybe I'll do a bit more poetry next... and then some more prose to practise! hehe! ^-^

14 notes · View notes

sflow-er · 5 months

Note

🎁 💛 🎨 for the writers asks if you’re still doing them.

(If you’ve already answered any of these, replace with one you were hoping someone would ask!)

Hi! Yeah, I'm still doing them!

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Well...sure! Here's an angsty snippet from the next chapter of my WIP, The real deal. I was actually hoping to get the chapter out this week, but I've been kind of swamped with other stuff, so I guess any readers hoping for an update may appreciate this.

[Context: Henry has just joined the Society. Walter is not happy about it.]

Walter has to stop there to quell the desperation that has not so much crept as it has rushed into his voice. He screws his eyes shut and hugs himself for comfort, trying to make it look like he’s just crossing his arms in frustration. The true meaning of the gesture isn’t lost on Henry, who soon reaches out to put his hand on Walter’s upper arm. “Hey. Are you okay?” Walter opens his mouth to say yes. What comes out is, “No. I’m really not.” Henry rubs Walter’s arm through the sleeve and hesitates a little before asking, “Would you like a hug?” “I’m not…in a hugging kind of place right now.”

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

Man, this is a tough one! There's always more to learn, and also so many things I have "learned" but not really taken to heart (such as "use a placeholder when you get stuck" haha).

I'd say maybe 'think of your readers as people, not numbers'. The writing itself has to be for me, because the worth of the story or my worth as a writer should not be determined by what anyone else makes of my writing. But I still think it's okay to acknowledge that I wouldn't be posting the stories anywhere if I didn't want to connect with people through them. The important part is not to think about it in terms of hits or even the number of kudos or comments, because that just leads to all kinds of self-doubt if the fic/chapter doesn't reach that many people (I am a niche writer in a small fandom, after all). I find it much more useful and joyful to think about it in terms of the actual human beings on the other side of the screen who have taken an interest in the story and let me share it with them.

🎨 - I already answered this one here. But since you suggested picking another one, let's do this (I tried to pick one of the yellow ones to at least match the colour):

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

I write what I want to read, so I do reread my fics every now and then. Some more than others, but a couple of months ago I actually reread one that I had not revisited in ages, and I'm glad I did because it was better than I remembered.

Sometimes I reread for no particular reason, other times after a nice comment on an older fic. Or when I need to check something - just the other day, I went to check a minor detail in my magnum opus for my WIP (which is a prequel), and I ended up rereading the last five chapters... Oops.

(Sadly, rereading does often reveal typos or other little errors and fixing those does take me out of the story a bit, but I still enjoy it!)

Thank you again, @gulliblelemon! These were fun 💜

[Ask list for reference]

#yr but doesn't need to go in the tag #ask game #writing asks #thank you 💜#gulliblelemon #this was the last one in my inbox #if anyone wants to send more i'm still up for it #either way thanks so much to everyone who helped to distract me today!#the real deal #walty

7 notes · View notes

feuqueerfire · 5 days

Text

Utsukushii Kare (S1, S2, Movie) Live Blogging

I can't believe I'm finally, finally, finally getting around to watching Season 2 and the movie (+ rewatching season 1).

I knew I liked this show well enough and the characters have stayed with me since watching it in 2022 but I didn't realize that Utsukushii Kare is pretty special because it's actually the very first live blogging post I did on this blog. It was February 2022 and now it's 2+ years later March 2024. Before then, I'd maybe tweet a thread of me watching but the tweets would be sparse because I didn't wanna spam people. I think I got the idea because I was writing so many Bad Buddy thoughts (also in Jan-Feb 2022) on my show tracking spreadsheet and that wasn't sustainable lol

Anyway, looking at these is making me remember that I'd been looking forward to season 2 from when I finished watching (from my live blogging ending thoughts) and had anticipated the release of it for months and months. Even more ridiculously, in my show tracking spreadsheet, the only thing I wrote for this show was a link to my live blogging and "If there was a sequel, I'd watch" bruh that's all I had to say and yet I'm finally watching the sequel 2 years later (while the sequel has been out for a year).

Anyway, enough chatter, I think I'm just delaying watching this show because I like season 1 and the characters so much and I'm just... nervous about my expectations.

Utsukushii Kare: Season 1

Probably won't be writing much because I already did the whole live blogging for this.

Also, it's weird that I haven't rewatched this? Why do I remember it so vividly if I haven't rewatched? I occasionally watch a bunch of tiktoks for the show and sometimes people mention it in podcasts, so maybe that's why? I was thinking maybe I'd watched reaction videos but nah, apparently I'd only watched that for 1 account back in April 2022. Once again, I continue to ramble instead of pressing play

Ep 1 (Mar 23)

Watched like 12 minutes before falling asleep

Ah, the fondness is coming back

Ep 2 (Mar 23)

Oh, the group going to Hira's house and the bike riding scene is here? in my head it was later

And the bike riding continues to be an incredible scene

Ep 3 (Apr 17)

Uhhh, I'm back after almost a month lol I think I wanted something much easier without complex dynamics at the time, so I'd watched Destiny Seeker instead

Oh, I'd forgotten about this tense scene after the contest

ahh the masturbation thing lolol

It bothers me that Kiyoi was nice again to those bully boys like why make good with them again? And when you're graduating no less?

that sudden kiss + pushing him hard enough that he falls to the ground + saying "see you again" before leaving really is just terrible and confusing lol

Ah, Hira really was always putting himself down and putting Kiyoi in a pedastal in these episodes + I remembered when somebody pointed out that in Hira's POV, there are many shots where Kiyoi is on elevated ground or taller/higher than Hira, so I noticed a lot of that in this ep

Ep 4 (Apr 17)

ack, the immediate 'stalker' to someone who ppl think is his fan is so T.T

"I want to kneel down at your feet right now" kills me every time

Koyoi's inability to communicate and Hira's idealized view of him are both so just . insane

ahh Kiyoi's POV from next ep

the episode starting with Hira saying "For several insipid years, all I did was grow up." while Kiyoi ends the episode with the same sentence

Ep 5 (Apr 17)

seeing Kiyoi lose his mind over Hira is so cathartic

ough, i forgot this hug that Kiyoi sees

I disliked the other guy more when I first watched it than I do now

Ep 6 (Apr 18)

Oops, went almost the whole day without watching anything

finger sucking scene

Ouch

the conversation at the school is just so good man, like ouch but hopeful

hehe cute biking

Overall:

Ahh, idek why I wasn't Gripped by this rewatch, like I like the characters and dynamics but it wasn't keeping my attention as much, maybe because it's a rewatch? Maybe my original rating of 6.5 was correct and I shouldn't have bumped it up to 7 but who knows, maybe I'll be reintroduced to the brainworms after watching Season 2 because I found ep 6 really engaging and was into it and S2 + movie will have new, unfamiliar stories for me.

Season 2

Ep 1 (Apr 18)

How soon after S1 is this season starting?

akkkk "Are you angry?" "Why?" "Last night I was too persistent" alkdjfasd;lkf

It's weird to realize that like... I'm older than them. I was several years older than them when they were in high school and now I'm probably 1-2 years older than them because Hira said graduation is approaching but it's weird still idk

not Mr. Suspicious lmfaoo

Hira kneeling and crawling around really is just a lot

it's so funny how Hira trembles in Kiyoi's presence because he's apparently standing too close, meanwhile we know for a fact that they canonically fuck

Hira's persistent fear that Kiyoi might die ?!

they're both so constipated in different ways, I'm dying like Hira's extreme lack of confidence about his looks and sense of self vs Kiyoi obviously being in love with him and wanting to reassure him but also not being able to compliment him truthfully and sincerely

Kiyoi's every sentence is a trap lmfao

omg I was so distracted by her, she's gorgeous and I love the outfit and jewelry

Kiyoi seething with jealousy ahh

lolol "today we're gonna do it"

oh my goddd what a good episode, I was giggling and dying and so engaged, I'm glad I love it so far because I was kinda nervous after not being as enamoured by S1

Ep 2 (Apr 19)

ah, i'm clutching my heart, flashback to the scene of when Hira taught Kiyoi about the tea olives or whatever and Kiyoi just desperately wanted Hira to say he likes him

return of Suspicious-kun plss

Is the other guy who's there for Anna gonna be significant? Either as an Anna s/o as well or as a Kiyoi hater maybe?

does Kiyoi want their love life to be more exciting?

aksldfj why are each of them so annoying like Koyoma's being like yeah Hira doesn't shut the fuck up about you and your drama at school while Kiyoi's like "Is Koyoma saying he sees a side of Hira I don't see? Is he trying to assert dominance?" like girl both hira and him are just dumbasses god bless

Koyoma on Kiyoi's ass for freeloading off of Hira and letting Hira do all the housework while he just pursues his acting or whatever ohh

pls Hira treating this shitty food as if it's from Olympus

Ah, Hira joining the photography competition at Kiyoi's encouragement (though the pressure would make me buckle)

Ep 3 (Apr 19)

Hira not making it to the next round of the competition but Kiyoi still being supportive, I needed to see this rn tbh

oh my god this is so sad man, they're literally always just on different lines of thinking because Kiyoi wants to be treated as an equal in the relationship while Hira thinks it would be an insult to think of himself as ever reaching Kiyoi's status

but it's so sad the way Kiyoi wants to obviously be known as Hira's bf (even though they can't) and the way he's hurting knowing that Hira wants Kiyoi and his parents to be completely separate owwww

omg? Hira saying I don't want to understand you? fucked up fr

Their relationship is often somewhat tragic because of their dynamic and how they see themselves and the fact that what they want from the relationship is different but this ep is so sad man

Ep 4 (Apr 19)

ah, good thing Kiyoi came back because they only have 1 episode of 23 mins left and i don't want the ending to be rushed lol

sorry accidentally got the ick when Kiyoi came and ordered Hira to get ginger ale in front of everybody even though ik it's like Dynamics but still why in front of dumbass bullies smhh

Hira not liking Kiyoi saying it's fine if he doesn't get a job after uni bc he can take care of them makes sense but then smiling happily when Kiyoi says "fine, then work like a workhorse and if you mess anything up for me I'll throw you away" is sooooo

huh? Why Hira didn't submit anything?

oh it's a different thing that Hira didn't submit for? Because he did indeed submit for the contest

woah, gasped at the fact that Hira is kneeling but at eye-level/slight higher than Kiyoi instead of lowering himself as much as possible

Hira being fed chocolate by Kiyoi, ah

great, delightful

Overall:

This season is about Hira and Kiyoi's relationship. They didn't become boring after getting together, they didn't magically end up being a perfect happy well-adjusted couple after getting together, nor were there random issues thrown just because; the struggles and hurdles are true to their characters and dynamics.

I was a bit afraid that I'd be meh about it because I was like fine but not Hooked on the S1 rewatch but the S2 was great, for real. I liked the themes and dynamics it explored and their character + relationship development and progression. I also smiled a lot and lost my mind a little at certain moments.

Strong writing, strong characters, strong acting, what a relief.

Rating: 7/10

Movie: Eternal

No clue what the movie is about actually, though there are a few gifsets/moments that I've seen that didn't appear in the series, so much be from here. + I saw one comment saying that Anna and Noguchi are supposed to be there more in the movie. oh also actually?? a kidnapping plot?? i heard it mentioned in a podcast i think

omg they're each recounting how they met the other to their own mentors

not the shrine ?!?! omg

I really don't know how to feel about Anna's fan like do we need to kill him or what?

what does Hira mean by him and Kiyoi drifting apart?

hah the divorce thing is here, I loved the gifset when I saw it and have had it in my likes for Months, gonna finally be able to reblog it

i think i saw a gifset or clip in this bathtub scene and I'm a great enjoyer of people discussing their desire for dubcon/cnc roleplay

Idk if I hate that I keep skipping all their makeouts/allusion to sex scenes like aghhh

I've also seen this part about hira apologizing for not having same free time as Kiyoi and Kiyoi grabbing his face in his hand to say stop apologizing, you've tried your best. i like it a lot

wait are Anna and Noguchi dating? I wanna know who the person Anna was talking about who has her heart but they can rarely meet because they're in the same industry. and it'd have the parallel of Hira wanting to photograph Kiyoi while Noguchi gets to photograph Anna

Noguchi used to be a scenario photographer?

ah, Hira didn't show up to the shoot with Noguchi and Kiyoi

pls why are they both obsessed with this award, he doesn't even have regular professional photography experience c'mon girls

oh, Anna's bf is some random actor from another company.

her fan is being... fine for now.

Aw, Anna

dang, they're bringing Anna to live with Hira's cousin

So does the aunt know that Hira and Kiyoi are like a thing or does she still think their fan/friend lol

Hira saying only Kiyoi is allowed to call him creepy and such because he's special + Kiyoi being like "he's creepy right?" Anna: "yeah" Kiyoi: Hey!

Ouch, yeah Hira saying he doesn't know what to shoot is crazy

Oof, Hira and Anna dating scandal

It must be so funny if you're watching this without knowing about EA celebrity dating culture (though even in SK, actors can date) and being like ? why is this a scandal ?

but i'm unexpectedly getting a celebrity-centric BL without seeking it out, which is great, esp bc when I seek it out I don't tend to find too many which actually give me what I want

random het sob story in the middle of my Utsukushii Kare but I like Anna so I'll allow it for like... 2 minutes

Ah, the kidnapping lol

oh it really is the Anna fan fuckhead aghhh how terrible, he's been off since the start

pls saviour Hira

Hira gets to photograph Kiyoi professionally yay

deciding to have one subject as your photo subject is crazy if you wanna be a professional but alright I'll buy into it

ah, conversation about beauty and age

gorgeous ending

Overall:

Great, fun, though not as emotionally invested as Season 2 because they're in a better place in their relationship in this movie (even if it's not necessarily Perfect). It was interesting to have new people in their lives like Anna and Noguchi and how their stories influenced them. I'm happy with where we're leaving off the characters after ~6h of show/movie.

Rating: 6.5/10

#ep by ep commentary #utsukushii kare

2 notes · View notes