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scuderiahoney · 2 months

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2

hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words

warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.

You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.

He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.

You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.

Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.

By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.

Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.

When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.

You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.

“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.

You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.

“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”

Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”

You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.

“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”

He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.

“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”

He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.

An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.

You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.

“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”

He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.

You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.

They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.

“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.

“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.

Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.

“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.

“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”

…..

Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.

In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.

Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.

Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.

“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.

You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.

“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“

He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.

“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“

Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.

Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.

“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”

Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.

“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”

Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.

The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“

In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.

“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.

He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.

He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.

He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“

“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.

“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.

You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.

Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.

The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.

“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.

Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”

You turn to look at him. “Why?”

He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”

You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”

“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.

“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”

You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”

Oscar laughs. “I know.”

You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.

“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.

He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“

You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.

“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”

He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.

“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”

Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.

“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”

Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”

Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.

…..

The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”

You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.

“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.

You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”

“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”

“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”

You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.

You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.

“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.

He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“

You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.

“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”

You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”

He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”

You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”

He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.

Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”

Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”

Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.

“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”

He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”

Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.

Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”

You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”

Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”

Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”

Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”

You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.

“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“

“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”

More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.

Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.

“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”

You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”

He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”

You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”

He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.

He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.

…..

In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.

You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.

He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.

“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.

“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”

You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”

His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”

You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.

“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”

Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”

You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.

Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”

Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”

“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.

You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”

You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.

Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”

Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.

You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.

Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main

crossed out blogs are ones i was unable to tag!!

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jubileemon · 1 month

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In the music video, Blitzø is represented by the Moon, while Stolas is associated with the ocean, initially walking on it before being submerged in it. This is actually very symbolic of their dynamic. The Moon controls the tides, but at the same time, it orbits around the Earth. Blitzø relies on Stolas and is drawn to the force of his power that he needs to accomplish his goals. However, Stolas is controlled by Blitzø's gravity as well, to the point of drowning in his emotions for the imp. They both profoundly affect one another.

Even the string that ties Blitzø and Stolas together is deeply symbolic. The majority is Stolas's blue, which is representing how much he's put into the relationship so far, as well as the massive amounts of feelings he's going through dealing with possibly losing Bitzø once he gives him the crystal. He has so much length to it because he's being so much more open about his feelings as well.

Meanwhile Blitzø's red is barely there because he doesn't, and possibly can't, put more into the relationship than he currently does. He has so much self-hatred that it's almost impossible for him to love anyone romantically, considering he doesn't even love himself. That and he's scared to put himself out there only to be hurt. He shows so few emotions and so his portion of string is immensely shorter. When it snaps, it all goes back to red on his end as all his trauma and repressed emotions about it flood back and envelope him in the moon once more.

Pay attention to the size of the moon. At first the moon was small, that is, these "walls" were thin or insignificant (this can be recognized from the childhood of Blitzo and Stolas, Blitzo was full of enthusiasm and hope, but now it is slowly fading away). Previously, Blitzo was more open, but after many events in his life, his walls began to increase (he was used by his father for profit, his best friend Fizzaroli suffered because of him, etc.), and eventually became huge and impenetrable (he does not share many things, not even with his own daughter, and he's afraid to trust Stolas on purpose). Even Stolas, with his tall stature, cannot compare with them. This literally shows that Blitzo can't trust anyone.

Stolas sees this and tries to break through them, but until they talk, the walls will not be possible to get through. It is precisely because this "barrier" cannot be destroyed that Stolas will give Blitzo the opportunity not to depend on him because of some kind of grimoire. The Moon's increasing size may also indicate that Blitzo is becoming a significant figure to Stolas. He wants to be with Blitzo not only physically (by type of sexual attraction), but also emotionally. In other words: Stolas fell in love with Blitzo seriously, not in childhood, when it was just sympathy, but real love, which is difficult to get rid of.

The symbolism of Blitzo as the Moon is very reflective of his and Stolas' relationship. Not only is it a callback to the fact that they mostly see each other once a month on a full moon to do “the deed”, but it it's also just a great metaphor for Blitzo as a character. Humanity has been fascinated by the Moon for a long time and tried to reach it for centuries and it was only in 1969 (relatively recently) that they managed to do it. The moon had always been this gorgeous, desirable, yet unreachable thing and that's exactly what Blitzo's love is from Stolas’ perspective.

Stolas' love for Blitzo is represented by the moon. First small and bright, something he can hold close and dear. Then larger, something harder to hold but something still fully within his grasp. Then at the end, impossibly large while also just out of reach

The moon also mirrors the power dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, at the start with Stolas holding all the power, then Stolas putting himself at Blitzø’s level when he finally tries to look deeper and see what Blitzø needs and his walls. Then the moon grows larger than Stolas as he intends to give Blitzø the crystal so he doesn’t have to depend on him anymore. And now the power in the relationship shifted towards Blitzø. Whether the relationship continues is now up to him.

#vivziepop #character analysis #helluva boss #stolitz #stolas #blitz #blitzo #helluva boss stolitz #helluva boss stolas #blitzo helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #just look my way #moon #helluva #hellaverse #helluva boss analysis #helluva boss theory

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ollieolliewrld · 3 months

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Genshin Men in Relationships (SFW)

There are characters I left out lmk if anyone would like a version for them as well!

1.8k words

Alhaitham

♡Everything this man does is calculated

♡From the moment he saw you he knew he had to plan to win you over

♡Usually, his intellect is enough to impress but you were different

♡You didn't see him as a brain you saw him as a person

♡Not only were his thoughts valued but his feelings mattered to you

♡Alhaitham had never been treated that way before and because of that he will make you the happiest person on the planet

♡He likes to share what he knows with you and likes to sit you down with a cup of tea as he goes over his findings and ideas

♡Absolutely loves to hear your thoughts and opinions

♡A common date spot for you two is on a blanket in the forest

♡He enjoys setting up picnics where you can enjoy nature and be alone

♡He has never missed an important day and does a surprisingly good job at planning celebrations

♡For a man who comes across as cold and unfeeling, he takes a lot of time finding the things that you like and including them in all aspects of life

Arataki Itto

♡This ball of energy naturally makes one of the best boyfriends

♡Everything he does is full of passion and care

♡He includes you in everything he does as he wants to 1) have you by his side at all times and 2) needs someone to wheel him back in when he starts getting out of hand

♡You are slightly more level-headed than he is so it works out

♡He likes to compete with you turning mundane tasks into a race or seeing who can eat more in one sitting

♡It's all for fun and no matter who wins or loses you both are in good spirits

♡Arataki Itto is a handsy lover who always wants to have some level of physical contact with you

♡He holds your hand, has you on his lap, piggyback rides, or will fall asleep on you

♡He absolutely adores you, seeing you is like watching a sunrise no matter what is going on seeing you brings a smile to his face

♡Very playful and enjoys lovingly teasing you

♡Big on holding things above your head knowing that you cannot reach it

♡He never does anything maliciously, he just adores the look on your face when you’re slightly grumpy

Diluc

♡One of the most protective lovers available

♡He is not overbearing but he is not letting anyone lay a finger on you

♡Diluc is a little gruff but he cares about you very deeply

♡Part of protecting you is spoiling you

♡Dates with him are dinners with the most beautiful scenery

♡You will be presented with random gifts almost daily so prepare for that

♡Nothing is too good for you

♡Big fan of walking with you around his property

♡It allows for the enjoyment of nature while having absolute privacy with you

♡Diluc is the kind of lover to sit with you on a mountaintop while watching the sunset but the entire time his eyes never leave you

♡There is no view that can top your beauty he is sure of that and while those words may never leave his mouth you know this every time you catch him staring at you

♡You are the most important thing in the world to him. Each day he will do what needs to be done to keep you with him

Kaeya

♡The two of you share an enemies-to-lovers story as you could not stand each other when you first met

♡This went on for a few weeks until Jean had enough of your fighting and forced you two to patrol the same very small area

♡When you two heard each other out you found that you both had a lot in common

♡Since then, Kaeya does not leave your side

♡He likes to constantly try to impress you

♡You could be together for years and he would still be the suave man who comes in to save the day

♡He is like Diluc in the sense that he is protective but he also gets slightly jealous

♡You have this way of drawing everyone’s attention without even realizing it

♡He loves you and cares for you deeply so he will get over his jealousy as he never wants you to feel like you are doing something wrong

♡You are his and he is the one you choose to be with every day, knowing that brings a smile to his face without fail

Neuvillette

♡Meeting you was the best day of Neuvillette’s life

♡took him a while to warm up to you but he could not stay away

♡Seeing your smile took away the pain he has carried in his heart for so long

♡He is a serious man but caring

♡He likes to keep his work and you completely separate, this being said he will always make time for you

♡Never will he forget a date with you, Neuvillette makes you his priority in life and treats you like royalty

♡Enjoys speaking with you he finds that the times when you two get lost in conversation are the times he feels the closest to you

♡While he is not big on PDA behind closed doors you are held in his arms

♡He keeps you close to him as he has a fear that he will lose you one day so having his arms around you calms him

♡Surprisingly he’s a nickname guy but not your typical nickname, he gives you one based on your name and personality

♡It’s one way he shows his care for you, by calling you a name that comes from a place of love and meaning

Tartaglia

♡Being with him is always an adventure

♡There is always something to do and somewhere to go

♡No matter what he’s up to you will be kept safe

♡Childe will never put you in harm's way but he does want to show you all aspects of life

♡He’s not supposed to tell you everything but he does, you are the love of his life he can’t keep secrets from you

♡You are treated to the best of everything with him

♡If there is anything you want he will get it for you no matter what it takes

♡Seeing you happy is the best gift he has ever received

♡He would prefer to keep you out of business to an extent, you would be with him wherever he went but you are not getting anywhere near the action

♡If anything happened to you he would not know how to cope

♡Good thing for you Tartaglia has everything figured out and knows how to show his lover the world without letting them get hurt

♡Your life is filled with excitement and you don’t get a lot of time to be alone relaxing

♡He figures you two can get to that when you’re old

Thoma

♡Mr. Perfect has been giving you the husband treatment since day one

♡He is so kind and caring to everyone that you didn’t realize he had feelings for you for a while

♡You two were close friends for some time before he made a move to outright tell you his feelings

♡Finding out you felt the same way was like a dream come true for him

♡Thoma was so happy to know that he finally had someone to stand beside him

♡The two of you work together making sure the other load is not too much for them

♡Doing this ensures that neither you nor Thoma burns out with all that you do

♡Date nights are big with him

♡Days are when the work gets done and when the sun sets that’s the time that is reserved for just you

♡He likes to cook with you and would be so happy to teach you

♡Enjoys packing you snacks each morning you thought it was a little childish at first to have a snack pack with you but with all the running around you do you have realized why he started doing it in the first place

♡Keeping you happy and healthy is what he prides himself on

Wriothesley

♡The most loyal lover

♡From the day he met you, he has been determined to improve your life in any way he could

♡He takes his work seriously and it takes a toll on him so knowing that he has you to come home to pushes him through it

♡Wriothesley wants to keep you far away from his work as he will not risk anything ever happening to you

♡Yes he knows you are capable of handling yourself but why would he ever want you to have to struggle

♡He treasures the time he spends with you and does not care what the activity is as long as the two of you are together

♡He enjoys relaxing in the countryside lying in the grass with you just as much as he enjoys the rare opportunity of laying in bed and having a lazy morning with you

♡Big fan of making you breakfast

♡He will wake you up when he is done with breakfast even if it is super early because he knows what the rest of his day is going to entail and he would like to start off with seeing your face and sharing a meal with you

♡Loves to be able to come home and find you sleeping in one of his shirts

♡He slides into bed so carefully next to you and wraps his arms around you

♡You are his world and he will always nurture you

Zhongli

♡Zhongli is enjoying the retired life to the max

♡Every day gets to be spent with you doing whatever you want to do

♡He has taken you all over for adventures, sightseeing, and relaxation

♡After being around for so long he knows what the best of everything is

♡Having you and being able to now share that knowledge with someone makes him finally feel complete

♡One of his favorite moments with you was when he took you to his favorite overlook in Liyue, there were flowers growing near where the two of you were sitting, and when you saw them you excitedly ran over to pick one and came back and placed the flower behind his ear

♡He has never experienced someone like you

♡So kind and caring that it was odd to him at first that you were so caring towards him without knowing who he was

♡That is his favorite thing about you, the way you treat people, the kindness you carry in your heart

♡It is a rare quality and something that he now gets to enjoy having in his life

Author's note: Very excited to now have posts for the three main fandoms I will be writing for out! I'm always open to other fandoms and other characters from DMC, HSR, and Gneshin just shoot me a request <3<3

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flametrashiraarchive · 10 months

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hi! i wanted to ask if you’re able to write any nsfw douma head cannons? it’s totally okay if you’re not able to :^)

*punches the air with both fists*

YESSS!

I hope this is okay. There's a warning near the end because the last part is about menstruation and him being fond of it and yeah... maybe you don't want to read that.

NSFW under the cut. Also mild spoilers for Douma's canonical personality.

DOUMA x reader NSFW headcanons

He enjoys sex greatly as a prelude to dinner.

It helps tenderize the meat.

But he doesn't cum. Ever. The physical sensation is pleasant but empty.

Doesn't masturbate.

Until he meets you.

Douma has been complimented on his beauty all his life; it's expected at this point, but you're the first person he's met who compliments him with actions rather than words.

When you lean against him for comfort? When you ask how he's feeling when he's just sitting, staring into space? When you ask him to keep talking and discuss more than just mundane things??

Yes, he'll keep you around. You interest him.

You're also genuinely nice to him, and not for the promise of eternal paradise. You just... like him. He's not used to that.

When he confesses he's a demon and you just accept it? You don't scream and run away? You're his now.

People hunt and eat rabbits and keep bunnies as pets.

You're his soft little bunny and he so loves to play with you.

Will absolutely initiate tickle fights. Wins every time. (he's not even ticklish, he's just a menace.)

Kisses your nose when you're mad at him.

Fucks you against the wall (sometimes halfway up it)

He leaves marks every time you fuck.

Man's a biter.

Hickey king.

He wants everyone to know you're his. If you wear his marks proudly he'll pop a boner every time he sees you.

Coos over you when you get overstimulated. Finds it adorable and pretty funny when you're cockdrunk and fucked out.

Yes, you've fucked on that giant pillow he sits on for sermons.

Actually, you've fucked on every square inch of the temple.

Including the ceiling. it was your birthday, he wanted to make it special.

He is a big boy.

Likes when you sit in his lap and bounce on him. Puts his face in your tits and can't stop smiling.

Giggles when he makes you cum.

You discover together that he has very sensitive nipples. He whimpers the first time you flick one with your tongue.

HE FELT SOMETHING!!

"Do it again, pet..."

By the end of it he's a blushing mess. One more touch and he'll lose his mind. He needs... he needs...

He pulls you onto him, grips your hips and uses his strength to drive you up and down on him. You're his fleshlight now. He's done when he's done.

whimpers.

The first time he cums it's a jumpscare for him.

THAT'S WHAT IT FEELS LIKE?

I see I see... let's do it again.

From that day on it becomes about how much mess the pair of you can make.

One day it occurs to him that his heart flutters whenever you're near.

Wants to turn you into a demon so you can be with him for eternity. Gets off on you being his helpless little human pet... why must life be so cruel?

WARNING: go no further unless you're okay with sex and cunnilingus during menstruation

Oh my oh my. When you bleed he's a whole new level of feral.

He will live between your thighs that entire week just... lapping it up.

It's nutritious and it's you. He loves it.

Fucking lies there on his belly, kicking his feet and fingering you so he can lick his fingers clean.

"Orgasms help with cramps, pet." he bats his eyelashes and smiles like he's only doing this for your benefit.

Man's a menace.

#douma #douma my beloved #kny doma #kny douma #douma x reader #douma x y/n #douma smut #douma kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu douma

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lagomoz · 5 months

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Proseka headcanons

-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge

-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess

-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho

-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed

-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle

-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes

-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system

-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)

-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”

-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves

-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though

-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger

-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital

-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar

-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower

-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french

-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her

-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia

-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks

-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor

-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right

-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed

-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down

-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction

-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact

-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die

-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating

-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen

-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music

-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support

-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again

-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions

-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)

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inbarfink · 8 months

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So when I talk about how the Winter King is, on some level, far more removed from original-flavor Simon than Ice King ever was - Betty is the most obvious example. Ice King’s whole obsession with princesses and the kidnapping therefore and general romantic neediness has always been a Mad, Sad and Magical reflection of just how much Simon misses Betty.

Even when he was too far too gone to recognize Betty when she was standing right in front of his face

Ice King always carried the hole she left in his heart. Meanwhile, the Winter King has full access to his old memories, he just forgotten her because he doesn’t care anymore.

Even while he was forcing Princess Bubblegum to dance along in a recreation of that same romantic grief.

But still, I feel like what happened Winterworld version of Marceline is an ever more poetic example, even if figuring out what exactly happened includes a lot of inferences and headcanons.

In “I Remember You”, during yet another emotional breakdown, Ice King accidentally shoved Marceline - and he was immediately absolutely overcome with regret and shame

Because although he didn’t consciously remember what Marceline meant to him, he still retained these feelings of fatherly care and affection. Some sort of core element of Simon’s being that persisted despite the effects of the Magic Crown. Because of that, he couldn't even stand the thought of hurting her, even slightly.

Ice King was capable of doing some fucked-up things in his desperation and madness - but hurting Marceline was the one line he never ever wanted to cross.

But the Winter King?

We only have hints of what went down between Winterworld Simon and Winterworld Marceline. All we know is:

The Winter King and Winterworld Marceline had the same Simon and Marcy backstory as in the Mainworld, and the Winter King fully remembers it - since he conjures a vision of them during his song.

Since Marceline’s Ax Bass still exists in its familiar form, it’s safe to say this version of Marceline did reach adulthood and probably had a pretty similar life to Mainworld Marceline.

The Winter King did something absolutely morally repugnant to the Candy Kingdom in general and Princess Bubblegum specifically. Although at the time the Winter King came to being, Marcy and Peebs were still reeling from that centuries-old breakup (assuming there are no other major divergences in the timeline) - I have no doubt that Marceline still had enough lingering feelings (and also maybe general human decency) that she would not stand for Simon’s actions.

And yet the real Marceline is 100% unaccounted for, only her Ax-Bass remains, in the Winter King’s possession.

Or rather, in the possession of Ice Marcy, an icy duplicate of Marceline as a child living in a gilded cage in the Winter King’s palace - presumably just as lacking in Free Will as the Ice Scouts and any other creation of the Winter King.

The Winter King’s little conversation with Simon about Betty is the best hint we have to Winter King’s motivation for making Ice Marcy. Namely, he suggested making an ‘Ice Betty’ as a way for Simon to get over losing the love of his life. And he’s fully aware that this is unethical - he just doesn’t care.

I think it’s pretty reasonable to assume that Marceline and the Winter King would have some sort of confrontation about what he did to Bubblegum and since the Winter King implicitly compares it to the situation with ‘the dead one’ (Betty)… I honestly think it is not a stretch at all to assume the Winter King killed Marceline.

And even if he didn’t straight-up kill her, I think most scenarios that fall under Occam’s Razor still involve the Winter King knowingly inflicting a great amount of emotional and potentially physical damage to Marceline. And it definitely involves the Winter King claiming Marceline’s most beloved posession as his own and giving it to a false icy duplicate of her child self he made to replace her.

I mean, the fact that he even bothered implies that he at least misses her more than Betty. But his discussion with Simon still means he considers replacing her with a nonsapient magic ice construct that copies not the person she was when she was speaking out against him but the child who adored him to be more than a suitable solution. Which is a demonstration that whatever sort of love remained in the Winter King’s heart for Marceline was a very twisted and selfish kind of love.

Even if you want to argue that the Winter King has nothing to do with Marceline’s disappearance - the fact that this is how he dealt with her being gone shows how much of the love Simon genuinely had for Marcy is now become a hollow and self-centered sort of thing. This is also a form of hurting her. And again, with the way the Winter King is in general - I think it’s very likely he has a lot to do with what happened to Marceline.

Meanwhile in the Mainverse, the Ice King couldn’t even lightly shove her away in a fit of emotions without being overcome with pain and regret.

So which Ice Wizard really retains more of what made Simon Petrikov who has is? The one who kept his identity and memories but has lost all of the love and care that has once motivated him more than anything? Or the one who can’t remember his name or his old face most days but still retains this ever-persistent echo of his romantic love for Betty and his fatherly love for Marceline even if he doesn’t fully understand where it comes from?

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eveningepiphany · 8 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #hslot #love on tour #i just love finalshowrry #love u too #hopefully part four doesn’t take me also two weeks to write HAHA

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yukisdomain · 3 months

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People need to learn how to differentiate between a good character and, well, whatever the hell feels convenient for them at the time (character that is a good person, hot etc).

Yuuta Okkotsu is not a good character. When I said how I wanted him to lose someone asked what he's done to me and some other people to wish that. And the answer is nothing, that is the problem.

A character that just gets a random power up/learns about their powers and then proceeds to use them without any training, the only development they have is from awkward and confused to "badass" in span of like 3 seconds because they are angry, and then the only times they appear afterwards is to do a quick job because someone else can't, is not a well rounded and good character. So yes, Yuuta losing would actually force his character to develop in some way if he were to stay alive and have some progress in the story while his personality would gain some more substance.

Also, a good character doesn't mean a character that you like. Mahito was an excellent character. Did i like him? No. But he felt real, pushed the plot onwards and gave meaning to every scene he was in. That's why that part of the story felt so satisfying inspite of negative emotions I felt towards him from time to time.

And you know who else is a good character? Yuuji Itadori.

Not only does he have a character development unlike Yuuta, it seems to me he's already gone through one and is going through another one during the current events in the manga.

His first character development was actually a negative one. And yes, negative development is still a development.

He went from: someone/random kid sentenced to an execution > no one/cog > only one (who unsettles Sukuna and, possibly, who can kill him).

Whether you want to see it as one long development or two separate ones is up to you, but Yuuji is constantly growing. Growth doesn't only refer to that of a physical kind, but mental and emotional growth too.

But if you want to speak physical growth, okay. I'm too lazy to calculate exactly how long it has passed, but it couldn't be more than 4 (maaaybe 5) months since he learned about the world of jujutsu sorcerers and curses. Less than half a year. And yet:

-He's on a level of a grade one sorcerer. Do I need to remind you that the 2nd year students, emphasis on 2nd, meaning they had at least 1 whole year to train, aren't on his level (except Maki and Yuuta).

- He's learned reverse curse technique in a month. Geto, a fucking special grade, didn't know how to do it. And he had more time to practice too.

- took on four special grades (Hanami, Mahito, Eso, Kechizu); no he wasn't alone, but students have been killed by less

- speaking of his battle with Hanami, he learned how to do a black flash during it and seems to have some level of command over it, inspite of black flash being known as a spur of the moment thing. Were Todo willing to show him how to do a simple domain, he would have probably learned that too

I need to add this as well:

- Went through severe trauma, lost people, killed people when Sukuna took control over his nody, and still hasn't given up

- Oh, also has experienced being killed (detention centre anybody?); somehow that always flies over people's heads

Conclusion:

Yuuji is one of the best protagonists I've read about. GIVE 👏 HIM 👏 THE👏 RESPECT👏 HE👏 DESERVES

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuuji #okkotsu yuuta #jjk rant #character discussion

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bu-blegh-ost · 7 months

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What Chip's current condition may possibly mean for both him and the crew (a theory of sorts)

Spoilers for ep. 109 and 110. Heed the warning.

Okay, so ever since ep. 109 came out I've been frantically reading about undead and what does it mean for your pc to be undead. I stayed silent about it, cause I wasn't sure if Nik could fix this, but now that ep. 110 is out I'd like to share some of the things I found, for folks like me, who do not know much abt DnD yet.

So, in a long list of features the undead have, most prominent problem is how hard it is to heal them. None of Jay's or Gillion's spells can heal Chip now, we'd need a spell that normally damages people, like necromancy spells, since they have a reverse efffect on the undead, and none of them has access to that currently. Not only that, once Chip's health reaches zero at this state, that's it. No death saves, no going unconscious or going down. That's it, which is why the moment he turned undead, Jay started spamming the temporary HP canon. So Chip doesn't lose any of his core health pool. If he did die in this state, from then on, only a spell called Wish (if I'm not mistaken a lvl 9 Sorcerer wish, so Gillion could do that if he cranked up three more levels in sorcery real quick) or True Ressurection could save him. But these two spells would also bring Chip back to life as a regular person, not the undead, so it would be cool to seek out someone who could do that for them at the most convenient time.

To balance it out, Chip is resistant to a shit ton of attack types, including poison, physical, necrotic and many other. To top it off with Chip's evasion skills, I'm giving him good chances to either minimalize or negate most damage in this form. And well, considering everything, he'd be wise to take every opportunity to do so, joke damage taking is no longer an option, I think. Also Gillion needs to be very careful with radiant damage around Chip, cause it's very effective on the undead. Chip getting hit by Gillion's strike may damage him greatly, and the two need to be very careful around each other from now on :(((

And the most interesting thing I found is the Undead Hunger variant. Some undead can just live on for centuries and be fine without a need to feed on something. But some, even the intelligent ones like Chip, may need a bit more than that, and given that very ominous intelligence check Grizzly made him roll at the end of the day, I'm thinking he's implementing the hunger rule on Chip. Lemme tell you a bit about it.

So Undead Hunger is a Variant Rule that DMs use on player characters that are undead sometimes. And that means that once in a while Chip would have to feed on some sort of specific type of morsel to satisfy his craving, or suffer the cosequences. There are two variants of undead that can make roll for this: Inescapable Craving or Diet Dependent. The player in that case rolls for willpower, which DMs usually make a wisdom or intelligence check. In our case Grizzly chose intelligence, and Chip passed with a 19. The DC for Inescapably Craving Undead is 25, but the DC for Diet Dependent Undead is 15. So from that I deduced that Chip would be a Diet Dependent Undead, since he passed the roll.

Hunger for the Undead is like addiction to the living. This means that unless Chip can resist it with a succesful roll, he may become more agressive, anxious, violent or even self-destructive the longer he is denied a preferred meal. If he can't eat, he'll have to roll for keeping himself at bay every three days. He doesn't have to roll if he eats.

So you may ask now: what happens if he fails one to many times? This is the interesting part. So if Chip fails his once per three days intelligence check, the DM will make him take ability damage. That means that one of his stats (wisdom, strength, dexterity etc.) will reduce by a whatever number Grizzly sees fit (Chip can get all the lost points back the moment he eats). In the guide I've read it says that wisdom is the most crucial ability score to lose, tho I'm unsure if the DM takes away only from wisdom or if he can take any of the stats, I may need to read more on that. But the thing is, the more rolls Chip fails, the more wisdom he may loose, and please note, Chip does not have much wisdom to begin with (but he does have high intelligence so thank the gods for that at least).

The less wisdom Chip has, the more desperate he gets when it comes to eating. He may start seeking out more risky ways to get fed or do things he normally wouldn't to get it. Hunger can't kill him though, it may just make him lose himself (hence that comment of Grizzly's about him needing to hold onto his sense of self, at least that's what I think that is). Once Chip reaches wisdom score 0, Bizzly actually loses control over him, and Grizzly takes over Chip and he plays Chip as he was a wild enemy beast. In that state Chip can throw himself on anyone or anything that can provide him food, his mind completely lost. He can hurt others, attack his crew. He can do anything the DM determines a starved mindless beast would do.

He can come back to his senses once more, when he does feed on whatever is decided his preferred meal is, all his wisdom regained and all, but the consequences of his actions, when he was not himself, the dreadful realisation that he is now a monster, who needs to be kept in check so he doesn't hurt the people he loves...This may be a lot for Chip to take. If this were to happen, he'll need a lot of his crewmates' support and reassurance, and a lot of honesty will be demanded from Chip. He'd have to warn people around him and make sure everyone knows how he's feeling, if he needs help in finding food. Casue hiding this hunger may result in tragedy.

And of course, it doesn't help that they are where they are now. In any case, if Grizz decides that Chip's favourite meal is humanoid flesh (beyond cruel is what that would be), they are fucked, basically. If it is the flesh of any other creature or animal, well they are also fucked, because they are in a motherfucking Black Sea, so good luck finding anything consumable like this either way.

But hey, of course do remeber that in the end these are just my conclusions based on what I read. Grizzly might not be even using any of these rules, cause he's the DM and he can do whatever he wants. I just thought that based on what we saw, this is very likely to happen (consider it a theory of mine for the time being). If you would like to read more about it, I'll leave you the link to this one really good website that I found most of the information on. I can't confirm its relaibility, but it looks very informative, comprehensive and thought out, and thus far was the most thorough source I found, so I'm personally willing to trust it. But please do find out for yourself. That'll be it, see you and I hope you had fun reading!

Link to the website: https://www.realmshelps.net/monsters/aboutundead.shtml#undeadhunger

UPDATE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tags written out by the wonderful @dinzeeyz !!! They explained here what is ACTUALLY happening to Chip, not a theory, facts from the boys themselves! Please make sure to read them!!!

Well, there it is folks! Of course, I do not mind that I was wrong! The fun part in theorizing is not being right or wrong, but the journey one takes to find out the truth! And the truth is SO much more horrifying than I could ever think! You see, I was kinda thinking abt ways for Chip to still function while undead, but there is NO FUNCTIONING WHATSOEVER APPARENTLY. Grizzly's not playing, and the prospect of losing Chip forever is real oh dear OMG, that's absolutely insane!!! Please feel welcome to discuss this, I'll be definitely making more posts about this once I have a little more time but holy shit guys. We need to fix that boy up F A S T. If we lose Chip, I'm not recovering-

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #chip jrwi #gillion jrwi #jrwi #theory #undead #jrwi spoilers #spoilers #jrwi riptide spoilers #GUYS GUYS GUYS #this theory has already been disproven by rolled and THE TRUTH IS EVEN CRAZIER #pls check out the update #https://www.tumblr.com/bu-blegh-ost/730136739405086720/tags-written-out-by-the-wonderful-dinzeeyz?source=share

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fuumiku · 5 months

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They’re really interesting foils in many ways. I’ve always thought that Marcille & Mithrun have underrated dynamic potential. Give me the cringefail dungeon lords. Give me the elves with ears-centric metaphorical self-image issues. Give me the academic elites whose deepest strongest desires will always remain unreachable and the only option is to turn to the corrupt forbidden fruit of a demon pact. I am so so normal about Mithrun and Marcille

I wonder if the resemblance between captain Mithrun and general Hagreus aka Marcille’s fave in Dalclan is intentional… They definitely look very alike. It could represent idealization vs reality? Something something the romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction vs a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever Hagreus is the general of. I feel like she never had the opportunity to notice the resemblance herself bc within seconds of meeting him he was wrestling her on the ground but. If she had… She would so think he should have been his actor in the tallman stage play of Daltian Clan in that new extra comic hehe. I love the little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped lmao.

This art is all silly and surface level but in my head mithrille is like so dramatic and I make up daltian clan level big plots with them gbdgd. I made a spotify playlist for mithrun if y’all interested, rn it’s mostly centered around cravings that consume and losing yourself and illusions inspired from his time as dungeon lord but it’s branching out. Varied vibes, levels of intensity and degrees of confusion and await you ✨ I would emotionally rant about Chainsaw Man ost lyrics and how they tie in with Mithrun and the winged lion’s relationship but this post is already a monster

I want more of these two please please please pleaseee just one or two interactions in the new canon content coming up… All they ever did was debate philosophy on desires and human self-fulfillment and try to murder each other, please… I never get to gush about them and I can’t shut up so if you want more thoughts I talk about them more below

To get a girl to peacefully accept arrest follow these simple steps: in private, ominously stand above her and forcefully interrogate her, while in public, tell her you’ve met before (untrue and also not a pickup line, you’re just face blind) and interrogate her with a thin veneer of decorum. If all else fails, threaten and follow through on said threat. My guy needs more than just physical therapy I’m afraid

Sorry if most of these were Marcille-centric with Mithrun standing there looking cool, if I were doing these more from Mithrun’s pov things would be like "She’s a bit much but I guess I don’t mind hanging around her." or "Oh you’re a half-elf? -insert elven supremacist rethoric-" or "I have to keep her from becoming demon stew." immediately followed by "Did someone say demon? Kill kill kill kill kill" since these are set prior to like really knowing another. Then things would be more like "huh she has bad tastes in novels but her magic research is pretty interesting" and "I’m lonely and don’t understand myself— Oh she loves talking about feelings? Oh shi-" That last one is an aspect of why I like Marcille and Mithrun’s potential dynamic lol. She’s very… Emotionally intelligent alongside being impulsive. You think you have no feelings because the world has beaten them out of you? Think again!! Marcille be upon ye! -In a therapy sort of way but mostly in a connecting with people and your own self through interpersonal relationships and talking kinda way. I just think a lively, upbeat, annoying friend way too interested in your personal life would do him good, the canaries are nice but like if Marcille went to prison and was a sort of extra new bunkmate I think that’d be interesting and fun to read is what I’m saying

Unlike Kabru she wants all the useless messy filler of his backstory, eating chips while listening. Like two chibi sets side by side, "me and my fellow canaries, name name and name-" "Hold on we don’t need to know that." Vs "Then we were to sleep on the third floor of the dungeon, which had the look of a mausoleum, and name and name got into a fight over the campfire placement." while Marcille is like uh-huh what next what next while kicking her feet. She thinks of pre-dungeon pompous Mithrun and is like omg you went through a character arc and become better as a person- and then he opens his mouth and she’s like nevermind let’s keep working on that. She would also go "ew ur hair is greasy" and give him a full hair care treatment. What I’m saying is I need them to be forced to spend time in a dungeon together and become besties through a life or death roadtrip

Marcille is insecure about her ears, long, like an elf’s pride should be, but rounder, inelegant. Seeing Mithrun though, the epitome of beauty, with his half-cut ears make it a sillier thought. Not sure if Mithrun is the best person to reconnect with ur elven culture with but it sure is an option Marcille would so appreciate being around someone both cool headed and kind, I genuinely think they’d get along, like not that Senshi isn’t that too most of the time but I think Mithrun would be in a way that’s more refreshing to her. I’d be so curious about them discussing Dalclan, I doubt he’d have read it but she could make him read it, maybe post-canon with the excuse that they’re trying to find him a new hobby hah. He’d tear into the writing and everything but it’d be a fun time, I like to think that it’d make him a bit less prejudiced. Marcille @ Mithrun "👉👈 Soo maybe you don’t know these books they’re pretty recent having come out 50 years ago but…"

I’ve been in a Mithrun phase I want to make and read Mithrun-centric fics and angst so baaad. I razz him a lot here but he’s literally a traumatized military man that became obsessed with revenge due to bad coping and neglects himself in the process idk not much for him going on and some of it is because he has to work on himself, but hey no one’s perfect it all comes from a place of love and relating though I prommy. He’s the one ungodly angsty squeaky toy blorbo with brain damage rep I have don’t take him from me

#Dungeon meshi #mithrun #marcille donato #I feel like i haven’t drawn in so long i’m so rusty #Mithrille #Mithrun x marcille #Marcille x mithrun #I finally did smth for these 2 yippee #Dust and dog hairs manage to get on my drawings while i take pics it drives me mad i can’t do this anymore sorry if you see any #Continuation of my Marcille: “LET ME LOVE YOU!!” saga #Sorry marcille i hate drawing your sleeves #There are a couple things I’m not satisfied with and might redraw at one point but i need to stop and get stuff done #Marcille has 5 cm of height on mithrun according to the adventurers bible neat #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #I’ll move those last two tags up when I get to my computer #Character playlist #I made a more formal mithrille post on another blog explaining what potential i saw in them just search in the ship tag if you’re intereste

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ramen8008 · 29 days

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I LOVE aged up Ladynoir dynamic because they are more mature and understand each other to a level that just AHHH!

One of my oldest and most loved Ladynoir head-canons basically goes like this:

Where as they grow older, they grow closer but especially during the time where the og friend group kinda separates because of college and Marinette being Marinette is like "you know what? not having close friends with me helps me focus on college AND ladybug" but she still NEEDS SOMEONE (whether she knows it at the moment or not) .

It gets tougher, the akumas evolve into causing more mental and emotional damage than physical, hawkmoth grows to understand that with their age and jobs it's easier to target their mind. During this time they've grown more independent than they should have. So one night they talk, they explain their situation, they vent to each other and decide that the comfort they feel with one another can't be compared to anything else. That maybe the other is more than just a work friend that they joke with, more than just someone they only see during the most stressful times of the day, maybe it's easier to find a best friend in someone who you've known for most your life, who you've been through thick and thin with, who understands you in ways most might never. So Chat Noir and Ladybug grow closer and closer.

They rant about college and work (Adrien works in his father's company now and did a business course so he doesn't have to model and Marinette has an Etsy shop on the side). They get close and have random night talks where they talk about things no one but them and the night sky will ever hear. Everything they go through as heroes, the ups and downs, and they also talk about fun stuff, learn more about each other, finding out that chat is a part of multiple fandoms, that Ladybug has a horrible bed head and hates that chat doesn't, that they more are more of a romantic at heart than they want to admit. But they also talk about just the struggles and anxiety that comes with their jobs, just how messed up what they went through as kids is now that they see it from an adults point of view, but they also just laugh it off, joke about the trauma some fights inflicted. Nightmares that keep them up, hopes they are too scared to say out loud, sometimes even the fear of losing purpose if hawkmoth is defeated.

There's so much more too. They have the kind of friendship where they make jokes and promises into the night about how if they are always going to be single because of their jobs they'll just get married in their superhero costumes. How ladybug is going to love making chat's kids little clothes and how chat is going to make sure that ladybug gets time with her future partner whenever there's an akuma by handling it for her. All the while not knowing that their feelings for each other keep on growing and growing. It's so huge that it feels like their hearts will combust but it's also constant to the point that they get used to it.

It hits them like a truck yet it's so slow, maybe just talking one night and it hits them that they can't imagine life without the other, that they want the other in a way that's more than what they ever thought, no they've thought of it before, they've jokes about it but never acknowledged the truth this jokes had in them, never acknowledged that over time they became to lean on each other more than just in battles, they became each others partners in more than just fights against akumas, more than in a platonic way. They've always loved each other but their love had grown into something much stronger

P.s. thx @rosekasa for reigniting my Ladynoir head canons and now I'm on a journey to go through all my head canons 🤍

#oh wow #okay then #i wanted to post this a while ago but i wanted ro do this right #I LOVE LADYNOIR #thanks for coming to my ted talk #thanks for coming to my rant #miraculous #mlb #chat noir #ladybug #ship #adrien #marinette #ladybug and chat noir #chat #ladynoir #ladybug x chat noir #ladybug x chat

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villainofmyownstory · 9 days

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Day Zero

chapter 1

masterlist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost and his dog Riley regularly patrol the city. A man has his own routine, every day, for almost 2 years, has to look the same. The man knows that he cannot change his behavior because deep down he still feels that someone will answer his radio signal. He doesn't lose hope. However, exactly 730 days after "Day Zero", no one shows up at the transmitter mast. Just when you finally get there. You've been trying to get here for weeks, seeing a tower in the distance. You needed electricity, and the tower had a source of light every night. And so each of you, individually, still thinks that you are the only one alive.

Chapter 1: The First One

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Day 729

Ghost & Riley

5:43 a.m., the black Gamin watch on the man's right hand started ringing. In exactly 25 minutes, the sun will rise and Ghost will be able to leave the safety of his home and begin his daily routine.

This morning is definitely warmer than the previous ones. Getting out of bed, the man decides that in the evening he will cover some of the solar panels, so that excess energy for heating will no longer be needed. He preferred to keep some panels unused in case others failed. He couldn't find any more panels in the city, so unfortunately he had to settle for the few he found in recent months.

Riley ran to the man's leg, growling quietly, he had been extremely excited since the morning.

“What's up Riley?” Ghost stroked the dog behind the ear and spoke softly to him.

This dog had been the only living thing he could talk to for almost two years. It was actually a monologue, but Ghost knew that his beloved dog understood him and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other perfectly.

The man also knew that he had to try to remain civilized, speaking, listening and behaving as he had before Day Zero. After years in the army, he remembered what soldiers released after years of captivity looked like. Who were locked in isolation for long months in small, dark cells. They were quickly losing their minds.

And he had to remain human. Despite everything.

Every day, after getting up and taking a quick bathroom break, Ghost would do some exercises to wake up. And be in good shape all the time. Unfortunately, his supplies of black tea were slowly running out and surprisingly there were few tea lovers in this damn city. He never drank coffee, so physical activity had to be enough for him to overcome sleepiness.

Once he put on his old military clothes and took his gun from the safe, he headed to the kitchen, taking a few military biscuits that he used to eat during his morning routine.

"Riley come on, it's time for patrol" the dog wagged his tail and ran to his master, waiting for Ghost to put a tactical harnesses and leash on him.

On his way out, Ghost checked the surveillance cameras he had installed around the house. The area looked like any other day. Intact. For a split second he felt disappointed, he was under the illusion that he was not the only one alive in this world.

Getting into the black Ford Ranger pickup truck, he checked the gas level in the canisters in the back and the air in the tires. Everything was in order. When Riley jumped on the back trunk and Ghost checked if the dog was safe, he got into the car and slowly drove away, looking around the surrounding area. Today he was going to the eastern part of the city, there were a few houses on the outskirts that he didn't check. As the days were getting longer, he could afford to travel further and plunder new abandoned houses.

When he reached one of his checkpoints, Riley on the trunk started barking and wanted to jump down to the ground. The man, concerned about the dog's behavior, quickly stopped at one of the dead ends. The dog barked and wagged his tail, staring as if in a trance, his attention focused towards the west.

“Riley calm down, Riley!”

Ghost quickly jumped onto the trunk and grabbed the dog by the collar, trying to calm animal down and direct its attention to himself. The dog barked louder and louder and suddenly growled in a way he had never heard before. Ghost froze, he had never seen such aggression from his dog before.

“Riley, sit down. Riley!”

man's voice trembled with growing fear, despite this he tried to pronounce the commands in a loud and decisive tone. Ghost was afraid that the dog might have gotten sick, maybe he had been bitten by some sick animal during one of the patrols in a new area and the wound was so small that Ghost he missed it. Even though he checked Riley every day after every patrol. He couldn't lose his only family member. Only friend.

Suddenly the dog calms down. He sat on his hind legs and, panting slightly, looked at his owner with peace in his eyes

“Bloody hell Riley, what the fuck was that?”

Ghost shook his head disapprovingly, looking up at the dog, patting it on the belly and stroking it for a while. After making sure that the dog had calmed down, the man returned to the car and drove again, glancing at the dog in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Fortunately, the rest of the journey passed peacefully, without any strange incidents.

Ghost drove in silence with the car windows open, looking around the suburbs. The eastern part of the city was mainly inhabited by elites, wealthier people from the upper classes.

Was.

Ghost, remembering his old life, felt that he didn't miss it. Money, power, fame. He never aspired to it and didn't need it, but in connection with his work he often had contact with rich people and it was difficult for him to come to terms with them. He could never get along with them. So now, after so many days since Day Zero, looking at the empty large villas, he smiled to himself. People had so much in the past, they were concerned with getting rich, making more and more money. And what did they need it for? Now they were all dead. And large houses and expensive cars stood empty, deteriorating under the influence of the seasons.

When the former soldier reached the house he had last checked, he parked close to a large tree so that the car was hidden in the shade. He opened the trunk lid for Riley to jump down and search the front and back of the house first. Nothing really bad ever happened, no evil awaited them during the day.

But Ghost wanted his four-legged friend to feel important and appreciated. If only his life would be no different from the one before Day Zero. Even though the man was not sure whether the dog had previously served in the army, from the first day they met the man checked and was happy to find that Riley was well trained. Its previous owner must have taken care of it. Ghost was very grateful to this person.

Whoever that person was.

When the dog returned happily wagging his tail and meekly stood next to the man's right leg, it was a signal that the area was checked and safe. Ghost took a bag of raw meat from his tactical vest pocket and gave a piece of it to the dog as a reward

“Good boy” as he said this he patted the dog affectionately on the head and added

“Watch the door Riley, I'll be right back.”

Ghost easily entered the white house, which was small compared to other houses in the area. Knowing that the owners would not come back to it anyway, he simply broke the glass in the door and turned the lock from the inside.

It took him less than 10 minutes to search the house, and as he thought, unfortunately for him, he found nothing important. It was one of those houses where wealthy owners come for a few days a year when they had to do something in the city. Ghost found some bandages, batteries, two cans of beans and a package of pasta. He packed everything into a backpack and took a large pillow from the couch.

Something for Riley.

Leaving the villa, he looked around the area, the sun was shining more and more strongly and Ghost basked in the sun for a few seconds, closing his eyes for a moment. Waiting for Riley to run up to him. However, none of this happened.

"Riley, come on..."

Ghost said calmly, patting his thigh to encourage the dog to come to him.

Silence. No movement.

“Oh, come on boy, I've got something for you..” the soldier opened his eyes and stepped off the porch, looking around the front lawn.

For the first time in over 700 days, Ghost felt panic rising.

Riley was nowhere to be found.

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Day 730

You

The next day of walking was so tiring that you took each step slowly with a grimace on your face. Your feet are so injured that your white Converse shoes are not only dirty with dust and brown soil, but also have red stains on them.

You don't have the strength to walk anymore. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, straightening the old t-shirt that serves as a makeshift head cover. The days are getting hotter and the journey during the day is torture.

“Maybe I'll finally lose weight”

you mutter under your breath, standing in the shadow for a moment. The large billboard that stands in the western part of the city is slightly damaged. The advertisement for the movie, which premiered over two years ago, is slightly faded and torn.

You fan your face with your hand, hoping it will bring you some relief.

Even though almost two years have passed since Day Zero, you have not lost the excess weight, and walking in full sun was a real horror for you. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you take out a half-full bottle of water and take a few sips. Even the water in the bottle is warm.

You sigh and look around. Nevertheless, despite all the horror that took place so many days ago, the outskirts of this city do not look damaged or well-kept. Even in your previous life - as you call it - you had never been to this area. Maybe it would be worth looking around a bit, maybe you will find a working car. Or at least a bicycle.

The tingling and stinging in your feet constantly reminded you how hurt and bloody your feet were. But you had to get to the transmission tower. You had seen it for so many days and you knew there was electricity there. Even on a rainy night, the lights from the tower were visible from many miles away. You were hoping that you would be able to charge the electronics you collected two years ago and maybe you would finally hear a human voice. Some signal of life.

You couldn't be the only survivor on this earth.

After a moment of rest, you moved further west, the sun was shining stronger and higher. It must have been close to twelve o'clock. You wanted to reach the tower before sunset, hoping that apart from metal bars and many cables, there would be a technical building where you could spend the night and charge your equipment.

Life before Day Zero was kind and happy for you. However, after that day it was a fight for survival. You were suddenly alone, without family or friends. You were on your own for the first time in your life. And you weren't the survival type. You lived comfortably all your life and could count on family members. Walking towards the mast, you had time for further thoughts. After all, what else are you left with? You haven't seen a human in 2 years.

Alive, to be more precise.

You were having conversations in your head, speaking quietly to yourself every few days as if you were afraid that your vocal cords would grow together or that you would simply forget what it's like to be human. The silence of the desolate world scared you at first, sleepless nights and fear during the day accompanied you in the first year. It was only when you found a bigger city and nice, undamaged houses and moved into one of them, collecting found food and useful items, that you finally started to calm down and sleep through the nights.

However, when the batteries in the device ran out, the water in the tap stopped flowing, and the winter at home became so cold that you might as well have slept outside, because the temperature difference was practically negligible, you decided to head west.

One night, when a snowstorm and strong wind opened one window in the attic and you went to close it at least temporarily and secure it to prevent snow from entering the house, you noticed a flashing light on the horizon in the distance.

At first you thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe you didn't eat enough or ate some spoiled food and your eyesight is playing tricks on you. But as you stood there and looked out the open window. To the west, a small light kept flickering in the distance. And the next day and the next. And finally the next week too.

When more than a month had passed and the weather had finally normalized, you decided to pack the most necessary items and go in that direction.

It had to be some kind of sign.

Some miracle.

During those nights when you were waiting for the weather to allow you to travel on foot, you imagined many scenarios. You felt excited and happy. Hope. Maybe you weren't the only living person in this world, maybe there were other people that close. This thought kept you alive.

Thanks to this thought, after so many days of traveling with injured legs, you were finally close to your destination. You had to get there and see with your own eyes that you weren't crazy after all and that the red and white tower was a signpost that someone maintained to let you know that he was also here, that he was alive.

When you finally reached the fence, you didn't even notice that your emotions and tiredness had won and tears were rolling down your cheeks.

You were so very happy. So close to the goal.

The gate to the tower was padlocked.

“Fuck!”

you screamed, struggling against the metal fence. You stood there sobbing, not knowing how to get to the other side. It was impossible to climb the fence. Firstly, it was too high, secondly, there was barbed wire at the top and thirdly, you physically couldn't do it. You were too fat to pull your body up over the fence.

When you finally calmed down and wiped your tears, you walked away from the fence and noticed that next to one of the fence posts there was a piece of paper attached with a red material.

You froze.

You quickly pulled a piece of paper from behind the ribbon and unwrapped the paper with trembling hands:

“If anyone is reading this, it means I'm not alone here. You survived just like me.

My name is Ghost.

I have shelter, food and other necessary items to survive. If you are looking for help, wait here. I come to the towers every day, every day of the year. Right at noon and I've been waiting for an hour..."

You quickly looked at your watch and froze… 12:23…. No, it's impossible, you've been here for a long time, you must have seen someone, you wanted to cry again. It can't be true that the only living thing, ironically calling itself Ghost, didn't show up today. Just when you came here. Maybe you missed each other? Maybe you were here for a few minutes after all. There was hope. You were supposed to spend the night here anyway, so if by some miracle you two missed each other, there was a chance to meet the owner of this letter tomorrow.

You looked at the piece of paper again:

“...and I've been waiting for an hour.

However, if you have no good intentions and are counting on your own survival, I have to worry you. In my previous life I killed more people than you can count, now, apart from things to survive, I have a weapon with me and I know how to use it quickly.

Wait here, and until I appear, don't be afraid, because you will hear and see my dog…Riley.”

With your heart beating strongly, you finished reading the letter.

Your mind didn't even have time to fully read the content of the letter when a large German shepherd ran out from the west wing of the fence, barking loudly.

This couldn't be true.

When you turned towards the dog, you froze.

“Oh my God…Riley…boy”

It was your dog. Who disappeared on Day Zero.

And now, after 730 days, he was running towards you.

Your beloved dog has been found.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au

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