#i don't hesitate so much to post them anymore which is good i think

[iholdwhatican]

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 

God, what the hell was wrong with you? 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 

God, you needed a cigarette. 

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 

You needed another drink. Or ten. 

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 

“More than anything else in this world.” 

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 

It made something flip in your stomach. 

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 

You really, really fucking liked this. 

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 

It was unbelievably hot. 

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 

#challengers #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig #tashi duncan #charly writes!!

[op3ra]

sunny day in autumn

(alt vers + scarf vers below cut)

#EDITED wrench's face fixed #they are so important to me. i'm unwell irl #i don't hesitate so much to post them anymore which is good i think #anyways this one was actually a lot of fun despite the fact that i had to learn to color leaves from scratch #i'd like to work on trees some more because although they came out nice they don't necessarily match my style #i redid the background composition twice too #anyways yeah i really love them. ceo of dumb rarepair #art or whatever #starlight express #stex #starlight express fanart #stex fanart #starex #rusty the steam engine #wrench the repair truck #rust repair #rustheal #rustywrench

[void-ink-studios]

Wrath of the Wishmaster

You asked, you shall receive.

Thanks for helping me clear my writer's block. I might write more scenes that happened prior to this, but enjoy what's here for now! Might post to AO3 later, who knows?

Enjoy babes!

Word count: 2,500

There were many things Scarab did not understand about the Wishmaster, Prismo.  Many… Many things.

Why did an all powerful being decide to spend its eternity making pickles and writing fan fiction of the universes he observed?  Why, of all things to add to the featureless Time Cube, was there a hot tub?

And why, above all, did he tolerate all of Scarab's... strangeness?

Because no one liked bugs.

That was the lesson Scarab had learned in his eons of existence.

No one liked bugs.  At least, not the kind of bug he was.

Of course, people like butterflies.  They liked to watch the pretty and dainty little things as they flutter along.  But only from a distance.  People still recoiled if they got a good look at their face.  Or anything that reminded them that they’re bugs, and not just living little splashes of color.

And Scarab was no butterfly.

He was a beetle.  Was?  Is?  He wasn’t sure anymore.  So much of himself had changed since he first emerged from his burrow.

And yet, there was Prismo, calling his little chirps and trills "cute." Encouraging him to find places in the Time Room to burrow and hide and crawl.

There was Prismo, who didn't recoil at the site of his real face. Who saw his strange mouth and eyes and decided to kiss it all over, rather than hide it behind his mask again.

So no, he did not understand many of how Prismo operated. But Scarab was not about to complain. He felt more alive in his own shell than he has in eons. He kept his mask off more often than on these days. His hidden arms had seen more exercise than ever before. He was starting to remember the strange language of chirps and trills and buzzes from his old home.

Of course, there were still bad days. Days where he had to sit still and stare at something stationary just to remember what direction was up. Days where he crawled away into one of his hidden nooks to tremble out of sight.

He had been reluctant to let Prismo in on those days, at first. He held up walls and scooted away and flinched enough to get the Wishmaster to back off for quite a while.

But, as he came back into contact with himself, and as Prismo called him beautiful and quirky, rather than disgusting and unsettling, the walls came down.

He wasn't ready to tell him what happened to his antenna and wings. But, Prismo was at least there to turn the screen wall to something calming. Or to rub his aching back and shoulders on days where he could do little else but shake.

It was... nice. He hesitated to call it wonderful, but it really was. Much better than a bug deserved, but he was not about to remind Prismo of that.

No, he had Orbo to do that for him.

He knew he had grown far too comfortable with Prismo when he heard the orb roll into the Time Room, loudly calling for his buddy the Wishmaster. Who was not currently there, but instead tending to his pickles for the moment. He trusted Scarab to watch the main room for any wishers, which he had been doing diligently from his perch on the ceiling.

Scarab froze, stuck to the ceiling like he was pinned there.

Maybe if I don't move, he won't notice I'm here.

It was a nice thought. But when had the universe been nice to him before?

"Uhm... Scarab? Mate? Whatcha doing up there? I thought we cleared up a while back that that creeped people out."

Scarab stayed silent as he crawled back down the wall. He ignored the way Orbo visibly shivered at his method of locomotion, standing at attention once his feet touched the floor.

He unconsciously made a nervous, light buzzing sound, his mouth parts clicking together as the orb stared at him like a disection project.

"So, what's all this then? You think just because Prismo's not here, you can do whatever you want? I thought we talked about this forever ago, Scrabs. You might be just a bug, but you got raised to the pantheon. You gotta act like it."

Orbo rolled to look around the Time Room. Scarab reached gingerly for the remote, trying to alert Prismo to their visitor.

"Seriously, I still feel bad enough for Prismo to get stuck looking at you when you were at your best. If he's stuck with you, it's the least you could do to not creep the guy out. That's not how you show appreciation, Scrabs."

Scarab tried to tune it out. He wasn't creepy, not to Prismo, Prismo called him beautiful, insect traits and all. Orbo swung around to look at him, now noticing his face.

"Where's your mask, man? No one wants to see the horror show your kind calls a mouth. It's bad enough when we have to watch you eat, you can at least put the rest of it away."

Scarab felt small. Tiny. Just like he did when he first met Orbo, who took one look at him, and decided he wasn't meant for the glittery Judgement Hall. He barely even noticed when he shuffled the plates back over his face.

"Much better. So, where's Prismo then? Not like I came all this way to talk to you, right?"

Orbo laughed. Scarab didn't. He just kept his eyes trained to the floor, still quietly chirping to steady his nerves. His world started to feel tilted. What he wouldn't do for his cane right now.

"Cut it with the noise, mate. It's like you've forgotten you're a god or something. You want to go back to the dirt? Is that it? I can talk to Boss for you, if that's what you want."

"...No. That won't be necessary."

"That's what I thought. Now, where in Glob's name- Oh, Prismo! Buddy, there you are!"

Scarab didn't look up to acknowledge the Wishmaster's presence. He felt so tiny. Just like a gross little bug pinned to the wall.

"...What are you doing here, Orbo?"

That made Scarab look up. Prismo's tone. All the warmth had been sucked out of his voice. There was an edge to it. One that the beetle had never heard before, not even during the whole Fionna and Cake disaster.

"Aw, mate, can't I just come check on my good buddy? It's been ages since your last party, man. Us at the office are just itching to groove again. We'd love to see you!"

Prismo's expression was unreadable. Scarab wasn't used to not being able to read the Wishmaster, he was usually an open book. The blue eye shifted between Orbo and Scarab subtly.

"Just haven't been in the partying mood, Orbo. I've been having some friends over for board games, I guess, but I'm not planning on a party any time soon."

The star core seemed to catch Prismo's shifting glance, turning his attention back to Scarab. The beetle stood ramrod straight. Partially to not draw attention to himself and partially to prevent his body from shaking on uncertain legs.

"Oh. Prismo, buddy, why didn't you say anything sooner?" Orbo rolled back over to Scarab, smirking.

"Say what sooner?"

"That this dude was killing the vibe in here! I mean, I totally get it, I wouldn't want a party either if that was lurking in my place somewhere."

Prismo's expression hardened.

"Scarab's not 'killing the vibe' Orbo. He's been nice to have around, he plays board games with me, Cos, and Death."

Orbo rolled his eyes.

"Prismo, you're cool. You don't have to keep it quiet for his sake. Just say the word and I'll find something else to do with him. It's not the first time he failed to learn a lesson."

"I'm not keeping anything quiet. I like having him around. He's actually pretty cool when he's got the space outside of work, and you're being, like, really uncool, Orbo."

Scarab was stunned. He'd been the only one to ever really talk back to Orbo. He'd never expect someone to do it on his behalf.

"What? Me, uncool? Pris, c'mon, mate. You're allowed to say he's creepy, we all know it. He's a bug. You know, those little creepy crawlies? I thought I trained most of the creepy stuff out of him by now. I know you're everybody's buddy, but you really need to make sure the lesson stays in his head if you don't want him weirding you out. Like, I came in here and he was on the ceiling! Looked like a ghost or something. And without his mask! I thought I made it clear his face is a horror show. Thank Glob I got him to put it back on before you had to see it, bud. It's a real doozy, I'll tell ya."

The beetle wasn't looking at Orbo anymore. No, he was watching the growing horror on Prismo's face. Horror not directed at him for once.

"Dude, Scarab's not that bad. A bit uptight when he's stressed, but still a pretty cool dude. Why should he have to hide so much? This is the Time Room, you're supposed to relax in here."

"Oh, Prismo, you sweet dream child. Scarab's not cool. He's not like us, you know?"

"Like us?"

"Buddy, you're the dream of one of the greatest living wizards in the multiverse! I'm the core of a collapsed magic star! That's where gods like us are supposed to come from! Scarab though? He's just a bug. A creepy crawly cockroach that somehow made it up from the dirt he's meant for."

"Didn't he manage to take down a galactic level threat that you couldn't catch?"

"He got lucky." Orbo looked annoyed. That usually ended well for no one. "Knew I should've finished his punishment before he came here..."

"I thought this was his punishment."

"Oh, no, I'm talking about his punishment for trying to start a revolt. Went over my head to the Boss! All over that nonsense with that unauthorized universe of yours. I was gonna take his legs. Maybe should've pulled out his other arms as well. I still can, if you wanted me to, mate."

The silence in the Time Room was deafening. Scarab has seen a lot of expressions on the Wishmaster's face. Contentment, sadness, boredom, amusement, joy, frustration, all of it.

But he had never seen rage. Not until now, anyway.

"What?"

Orbo seemed to completely miss the change in atmosphere, as he carried on just as before. "Oh yeah, it seems to be the only way he actually learns. Thought the antenna would be enough, but nooo, Mr. Buggy Bigshot still thought himself better. I really thought the thing with the wings would've gotten through to him, but I guess not."

The lights in the Time Room went out. Not even the stars from the void outside shed much light into the cube. Scarab never thought he'd miss the sickeningly bright yellow of the Time Cube, but he's permanently paint his shell its color if it would turn the lights back on.

"You. Did. WHAT?"

There was a guttural hiss coming from where Prismo once was. Blue what replaced by a bright purplish pink, staring down at Orbo and Scarab. A friendly smile was replaced with jagged teeth. Fingers replaced with claws. And a growl rumbled through the cube.

Scarab didn't think. Just acted. He opened himself a passage into the lower levels of the Time Room, scurrying in as fast as his legs could carry him. He could faintly hear Orbo yelling after him, but he ignored it completely. The adrenaline let him ignore the pain, ignore the feeling of constantly tipping over. All his instincts told him was run and hide.

He crammed himself into one of his many makeshift burrows, backing as far into the hole as possible.

Prismo was angry, he knew that much. Anger meant pain. Anger meant he'd lose another piece of himself. What would it be this time, he wondered.

It didn't matter he knew Prismo would never hurt him. It didn't matter he knew he probably couldn't be hurt like that while in this form. All he knew was to curl up and hide.

And so he did.

He shook, in fear and pain, and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. But he didn't dare come out of his cubby.

So he waited.

He didn't know how long it was until he felt the familiar tingle of light against his back. He flinched, a frightened trill falling unwillingly from his throat.

"...Scarab? Sweetheart, are you there?"

...At least he sounded like Prismo again...

"...Yes... Yes, I'm here."

"Good, good. I... I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I don't like what I am when I'm like that but... What Orbo was saying... Your wings..."

Scarab felt his elytra twitch under Prismo's touch. The ragged scraps of wings shivered as well, as the beetle sighed out a soft little chirp.

"...It is the way of things, Prismo... Orbo is not the only one with thoughts like that. It's what I've been taught for eons. No one likes bugs, after all."

There was a long silence after that. Prismo was looking at him with a sad calmness. He reached his other arm into the hole, petting a hand over the parts of his face he could reach under the mask. The bug shivered pitifully into the touch, trying and failing to resist the urge to lean into it.

"...You deserve better, Scrabby."

That's what did it. That's what broke the dam.

Scarab wept into Prismo's hand, shaking hard enough to make his carapace rattle.

"Shh... It's okay, honey... Can you come out here?"

It was slow. Almost painfully so. But he managed to peek his head out of his hiding spot. The Wishmaster gave him a kind smile, if not a sad one.

"Can you let me see you, beautiful?"

Scarab hesitated. Orbo's words echoed in his head, loudly, cruelly.

"...I'm not pleasant to look at, Prismo... Much less beautiful..."

"Nope. Not true, Scrabby. C'mon. Let me see that pretty face of yours."

"Prismo..."

"Please, Scarab?"

The beetle sighed. His face plates shivered again, tucking behind his head. His eyes stared, wide and wet at the Wishmaster. A soft kiss was planted on his forehead.

"There we go. Much better."

Scarab refused to start bawling again. Instead, he climbed the rest of the way out of his burrow to curl against Prismo's chest.

"You don't have to worry about Orbo anymore, by the way. He won't be coming back. Not for a few eons, at least."

Scarab didn't choose to question it. Not right now at least. Instead, he closed his eyes as Prismo's hand pet gently over his aching back, the beetle unconsciously opening up the elytra. The dream's hands were always careful when working around his sorry wings. They made the ache go away.

Scarab began chirping. Softly, at first. But it slowly grew, morphing into a simple, but filling cricket song. He heard Prismo softly join in with a light humming.

He might've been just a bug.

But it turns out at least one person likes bugs after all.

#prohibitedwish #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #scarab x prismo #prohibitedwish fanfic #wrath of the wishmaster

[imfinereallyy]

Father Figures, pt. 2

I swear it was a one-shot. But then my hand slipped and "oh oops there's Wayne". You can access part 1 here. This is rated m btw. The full version will be available on ao3 (my first time posting on there...) which is linked here. Anyway, enjoy :)

The first time Wayne Allen Munson meets Steve Harrington is in a hospital room. Sure, he has seen and heard about the kid in passing. It was hard not to in a town like Hawkins. With the kind of money his old man has and the pretty face his mother parades around, the Harringtons become a sort of household name. Especially in Wayne's household.

See, Wayne may not be much of a talker, but his nephew sure is. Especially when he gets angry about something. And boy did Steve Harrington make his Eddie mad. During Eddie's first time around with Senior Year, Steve's name comes out of that boy's mouth so often that if not for that tone of his, he would have thought the kid had a crush on him.

Actually, Wayne regretfully asks at one point if he does have a crush. Wayne finds out pretty quickly that Eddie doesn't, which isn't the problem nor why he regrets asking. The problem is apparently at that very moment in time, Eddie hasn't exactly come out to Wayne. The boy shakes so much that Wayne is afraid that Eddie might cause an earthquake. Wayne has to calm Eddie down and explain very carefully he doesn't care, he's his kid no matter what. Eddie cries, and asks "Dad, what made you think to just casually bring that up?"

Wayne shrugs and simply says "Didn't think it was a secret."

Eddie lets out a wet laugh. Wayne doesn't mention how it's the first time since Eddie showed up on his doorstep that he calls him Dad.

His heart swells.

So, with absolutely no crush in sight god Wayne he's an asshole, Steve's name is brought up quite often.

"Steve Harrington just parades himself around like he's a king."

"Steve Harrington just stands there while Tommy continues to be a piece of shit. Worse, he acts like he's bored."

"Girls just hang off of Harrington, he's even got Nancy Wheeler on his arm now. What a prick, thought she was smarter than that."

"Looks like Harrington got the shit kicked out of him by Byer's. You gotta love Karma sometimes."

Wayne watches Eddie frown at the last one before saying, "Kinda gotta back Steve up on the pictures though. That was creepy."

Eddie shakes his head then continues to rant "But smashing his camera? Dick move. Doesn't understand what it's like to be poor."

Wayne is still not completely convinced it's not a crush.

Wayne Allen Munson seems to know all about Steve Harrington before he actually has the chance to meet him. None of which he has learned makes Steve seem all that good.

Imagine Wayne's surprise when he finds the Harrington boy next to his son's hospital bed.

"What're you doin' here?" Wayne asks, startling Steve from his chair. Wayne watches as he hops up from the ground, straightening himself out.

"Sorry sir, I was just uh, keeping him company. The kid's families won't let them out of their sight and Dustin wanted him to have a familiar face with him if, sorry when he wakes up. Because we weren't sure we were allowed to grab you yet. So I volunteered to stay with him, seeing as I don't have a job anymore, and well I sort of feel responsible for Eddie now. And, god I am hanging out with Robin too much because I am rambling. Sorry, Sir. "

Wayne raises an eyebrow at him. He has seen Steve around town before, hard not to in a small place like Hawkins. Eddie points him out once, scoffing at his perfect hair and holier-than-thou attitude. Wayne originally is prepared to yell at him. The sight of a boy who looks very much like the very ones who hunted his Eddie down just a few days ago ignites something protective within him. Hearing this boy ramble though, flustered and making himself hopelessly small in front of Wayne, makes him hesitate.

"Boy, I don't know half-em names you're sayin' right now. I do recognize that kid Dustin though, ya know him?"

Steve nods his head up and down, "He's like my brother sir. Our brother." He looks down towards Eddie's bed.

Wayne avoids looking at his boy and chooses to look directly at Steve. "Well, he's a good kid. Came to me when Ed was missing, at the school. Told me he was a hero, and that he'll be missed. Guess now it was probably cause he wasn't sure if he was gonna make it and didn't want to get my hopes up. Don't know what made him change his mind either when he found me again today, told me they had him here."

Steve's face softens as Wayne talks about Dustin. Wayne pushes on, "If that kid trusts you, I don't got a reason not to trust you either. Well, until Eds here wakes up at least. He can tell me otherwise."

"Okay, Sir." Steve makes his way to move around Wayne and leave. Wayne grabs him by the wrist to stop him, and Steve flinches. Wayne decides to file that away for later and lets him go.

"No need to leave kid. And stop calling me sir. I'm not your old man. "

Steve's lips lift a little bit like Wayne just brought up an inside joke he isn't a part of. "Okay, sir—I mean Wayne. Okay, Wayne."

Steve and Wayne sit side by side next to Eddie. It's then Wayne finally looks down at his kid. He can't help but the rush of tears that come up at the sight of him. He is paler than usual, curls flat and dirty, tubes coming out of every part of him.

"My boy." He chokes.

Steve thankfully stays silent as Wayne weeps. They sit for a while in silence before Wayne asks, "You gonna tell me what happened?"

Steve, who Wayne doesn't point out has bloodshot eyes, says "You going to believe me?"

Wayne simply returns "I'm willing to try."

So Steve tells him. Tells him everything that has happened over the last week. Tells him of monsters and other worlds. How it isn't the first time, how it is hopefully the last. How scary it is for them. How Eddie is stupid but incredibly brave. How Eddie barely makes it. How Steve will be the first to yell at him when he wakes up.

Wayne listens carefully through the whole thing and can't help but think of how fond Steve sounds when Eddie's name comes up. This isn't the boy Eddie once spoke of. Albeit, it has been a long time since Eddie's spoken his name. Wayne isn't used to tigers changing their stripes though. It's a pleasant surprise he doesn't comment on.

Wayne rubs his thumb across Eddie's hand. "How did he get out? If he was practically dead?"

"Oh, I carried him Sir."

Wayne's head snaps to Steve. "What?"

Steve shrinks a bit, "Sorry I mean Wayne. Sorry I didn't mean to disrepe—"

Wayne cuts him off, "Dammit kid, I'm not mad at that. I'm not mad at all. It's just—you saved him. You carried him out of what I can only understand is what I think hell is, and you didn't think to mention that when I first saw you?" Wayne looks at Steve for a moment. Really looks at him. He's in clean jeans and a polo, but that's where his old persona ends. When Wayne looks at him closely, he can see the dark bags under his eyes, the purple bruising all over his body, and the angry red scar around his neck. Steve looks exhausted, physically and emotionally. Steve looks like a boy, desperately trying to be a man. He looks like a soldier after war.

"It's not a big deal. I did what anyone else would do."

Wayne shakes his head. "Steve. That's just the thing, I'm pretty sure no one else woulda done that. And even if they would, it doesn't make what you did any less important. So, thank you."

Steve's eyes mist a bit when Wayne says "it doesn't make what you did any less important." He looks away from Wayne and just nods.

"Okay?"

"Okay, Sir. Okay, Wayne."

---

When Eddie wakes a few days later, after a night of breathing on his own without the tubes, he interrupts Steve and Wayne's conversation on the Chicago Cubs, and says "Dad?"

Wayne is up in an instant, crowding his boy's face. "Oh, Eds. I am so glad yer alright. You scared me."

"Mmm sorry," Eddie mumbles nuzzling Wayne's chest. He then looks up towards Steve, who is watching the interaction between the two men. "Harrington?"

Steve leans forward on his elbows, and chokes out "I told you not to be cute."

Eddie giggles, his tears reflecting Steve's "Sorry big boy, can't help what you're born with."

Steve looks up at the ceiling with a wet laugh. It eventually turns into a deep sob. The only other time Wayne witnesses Steve break like this over the past few days is when he's reunited with Hopper. "You shithead, you're not allowed to be funny right now. Don't. Don't do that again. Okay? You really scared us." Wayne can hear Steve's unspoken you really scared me.

Eddie's tears are rushing down his face now. "I'm sorry Steve. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Just—next time, don't let there be a next time. Okay?" Steve's not making much sense to Wayne as he leans his head on Eddie's bed face down.

Eddie seems to get it though. He hesitantly strokes Steve's head with his fingers. "Okay, Stevie. I promise. Now, get some sleep. It's your turn, I've had enough."

Steve's shoulders sag as he gives in. Wayne shares a look with Eddie, and Wayne knows right there they have the same thought.

They've collected another stray.

———

When Eddie is home, Steve becomes a regular occurrence in their newly acquired government-funded house. He helps a lot the first month especially. Takes Eddie and the Mayfield girl to and from physical therapy. Cooks dinner on the nights Wayne works (which is most nights) and makes sure to have leftovers specifically labeled for Wayne. Keeps both Wayne and Eddie company when one of their stress becomes too much for the other. Steve's even there on the nights the nightmares get bad. Spends his time on the couch until Eddie wakes up screaming, and calms him back to sleep so Wayne doesn't worry about him at work. Or so Wayne can get a full night when he's off.

Steve's there so often enough, that when one night he isn't, Wayne's concerned.

"You're going to pace a hole into the floor boy." Wayne looks at Eddie in their living room from the couch. Wayne doesn't tell Eddie he's concerned too. Doesn't think it would help much.

"I'm sure he's just held up, or got plans Eds. Not like he was plannin' on coming here tonight."

Eddie stops and faces Wayne, biting his thumbnail instead. "Sure we didn't have plans. But Steve's been here every day for the past month Wayne. And when he hasn't he's called. I haven't heard from him in like 22 hours—" Wayne doesn't point out that Eddie did the actual math "—and that's weird. He doesn't do that. We don't do that."

Eddie's anxiety starts to seep into Wayne's. He can't help but think of the worst-case scenario. Car accident. A run-in with that Andy kid. His mind even jumps to when Eddie was in the hospital, and his stomach sinks. Wayne can't help it, he has grown attached to Steve.

"Why don't we call some of yer friends, yeah? Maybe they've seen your boy."

Eddie is so incredibly distressed and doesn't even rebuke Wayne calling Steve his like he usually does. "Yeah okay, good idea."

As Eddie reaches for the phone though, there is a light knock on the door. Eddie rushes to answer it.

"Steve thank god I was wondering—Oh my god sweetheart what happened?" Eddie drags Steve in and places him on the couch. It's then that Wayne sees him.

There on Steve's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana. Steve's eye is swollen, and he is breathing heavily while clutching his ribs. Wayne remains frozen and Eddie frets over Steve.

"Stevie, who did this? Where does it hurt? What can I do?"

"Eds I'm fine."

Eddie looks like he's about to yell but restrains himself. "You are most certainly not fine. Do not give me that look Harrington—"

"Oh I'm Harrington now."

"—Yes you are Harrington right now because only a Harrington would be this stubborn and ridiculous. Now tell me what happened and tell me what hurts."

Steve's resolve loosens slightly, and his head falls onto Eddie's shoulder. He lets out a painful whine, "My stomach. It—fuck—it hurts so bad Eds."

Eddie brushes his fingers through his hair and whispers to him gently. "It's okay baby, I got you."

Wayne realizes three things at once.

One, Wayne isn't sure Eddie has called Steve that before. He calls him names across the board. But baby isn't one of them. Wayne knows for a fact the two aren't together yet. They have been dancing along the line for a few weeks now. Wayne thinks about pushing the timeline along, but the boys don't seem to be there quite yet. This seems like a step in the right direction.

Two, in the past month and a half Wayne has gotten to know Steve, he realizes that the boy doesn't do well around older men. He flinches at every sudden movement Wayne makes, and won't even let him give him a pat on the back let alone a hug. Also in that time, Steve has barely gone home. Knows his parents didn't visit him at the hospital, but did come home two weeks later to make sure nothing is damaged from the earthquake. Assholes.

And three, Steve avoids the question as to what happened. Eddie seems to let it slide. Wayne doesn't give the same courtesy.

"Who did this?" Wayne says abruptly, startling Steve who seems to realize Wayne's presence only now.

"Wh-what?" Steve shakes.

"I'm not mad boy. But I'm not stupid. I know this ain't a what but a who. And I think we can both conclude who. But I'm going to ask you anyway. Who. Did. This?"

The last of Steve's resolve crumbles as Wayne puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. It is as if he hadn't known a gentle touch from a father before. Maybe he hasn't.

"My dad. He uh, we got into a fight last night. Found out how much time I was spending here, with Eddie, with the kids. He started saying how I was spending time with the wrong people. I tried to just nod and go upstairs because it was just easier to ignore him than fight him sometimes. Like what's he going to do right? He's only here a couple of days a year. But then he mentioned Robin and he called her a slur, and that said her kind was an abomination. And oh god I don't even know how he found that out Robs is going to be pissed she's been so careful—"

"Babe." Eddie squeezes Steve's hand.

"Right sorry, he just was going off about Robin. And it just set me off, I just lost it on him. How dare he talk about her that way? And I just told him that if he's got a problem with her, then he's got a problem with me too. And God Wayne, the silence that came after. It was like all the words had been sucked out of the room. Next thing I know he's grabbing me by the jaw and throwing me on the floor. And he just starts kicking me, screaming about how I am no son of his. I didn't know what to do. My mom just watched it all. I just laid there... I should have fought back—I—" Steve trails off trying to collect himself.

"When he was done he sent me to my room and told me to think about what I'm doing to this family. I just laid there all night and all day, just waiting for them to leave. I had to wait til they left for dinner tonight to get out. I can't—I can't go back there. Me and Robs were planning on moving in together next week, we made a deposit on this two-bedroom downtown, but I don't think I can spend another week there, and oh god, all my stuff is there. What have I done." Steve puts his head in his hands.

Eddie is crying with Steve by the end of it. Neither he nor Wayne comments on how Steve just came out to the both of them. It doesn't seem important at that moment. Wayne crouches down to eye level with Steve.

"You did nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You did what you had to do to survive, and even if you didn't it still wouldn't be your fault."

Wayne stands back to his full height. "Now, you can stay here until you and the bird girl have your place. Do not fight me on it. Anyway Steve, I know it's difficult right now. But I'm going to need you to let me know what you need from your house."

"What, why?"

Wayne just sighs, "I know you ain't stupid. Just tell me."

Steve seems hesitant but tells Wayne anyway.

He nods at both his boys when he speaks next. "You two stay put. I'll be back soon."

Steve and Eddie both look like they want to fight Wayne on it. Steve wants to stop him from leaving at all, and Eddie probably wants to stop him from going without him. They both smartly stay silent.

"Okay, Uncle Wayne."

"Okay, Wayne."

———

Later, Wayne comes back with three duffle bags and bruised knuckles.

Steve hugs him without a second thought.

———-

A few days pass and the three of them are in the kitchen when Eddie asks. "Did ya tell hop?"

Steve snorts in his coffee. "Hell no."

Wayne can't help his curiosity as he watches the both of them across the table.

"Steve, you have to tell Hop. He's going to find out anyway." Eddie pushes as he puts an ungodly amount of sugar in his coffee.

"No I don't. He'll just flip out, there is no good reason to tell him."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. It reminds Wayne of Steve the past couple of times he's seen him around the kids. "I can think of one good reason. He's practically your dad. And I'm pretty sure your Dad would want to know what your old man did to ya."

Wayne can't help but hum in agreement. He knows if Eddie's old man comes around, he wants to be the first to find out.

Steve looks at Wayne briefly before saying, "No he's not. He's just like that with everyone."

"No, he's not. With El? Yea, that's his daughter. Maybe even Will. But not with anyone else. Except you. Why do you think I'm afraid of him?"

Steve gives him a look, "Cause he's an ex-cop Eds."

"Please that doesn't scare me. Didn't scare me when he was an actual cop either."

Wayne isn't sure that's entirely true. He remembers a very specific incident of Eddie tripping over his laces to get away from Jim.

Eddie carries on, "No, he scares me 'cause he's your dad, and I know he'll hang me by my toenails if I so much as make you cry. So yea, I think you should let him know. Besides, we both know he's going to be way more pissed when he finds out from literally anyone else. And we both know he will because you told Robin, who definitely told Nancy, who probably told Joyce, and you can see where I am heading with this."

Steve throws his head back and groans. "He's going to full government name me when he finds out."

Eddie lets out a manic giggle, "Ooo, you never told me what your full name is. Now you gotta tell me, Stevie."

Steve gives Eddie an exasperated look, "It's Steven James Harrington."

It's now Eddie's turn to groan. "Of course, you have his name. Well, I guess it's better than Richard. Hop must love that. Was kinda hoping you had my name or something."

Wayne makes a mental note to talk to Jim himself. Knows Steve will avoid it. But Wayne's got to make sure someone is looking after Steve when he can't. Wayne's been meaning to thank the man anyway. For all his done for Eddie. And now, for all he's done for Steve.

"Want me to make you feel better Eds?" Steve says with a smirk.

"Please. I'm not sure if I can go on any further with the torture of knowledge that contains your middle name."

"Hopper's middle name is Edward."

The scream of joy Eddie lets out nearly punctures what's left of Wayne's hearing.

———

By midsummer, the boys are an item. They haven't said anything to Wayne but he can tell. One day, the boys come back from their friend's weekly dinner holding hands. So they didn't have to tell Wayne. Not really.

It is just that, Wayne has gotten to know Steve Harrington over the past few months. He has gotten to know him as "Friend Steve" and "Brother Steve", and even after one intense game night, "King Steve". Wayne has a feeling though that "Boyfriend Steve" is different. As much as he likes the boy, his kid comes first. Wayne feels he needs to give Steve a talk.

The problem is he can't really give him a talk if neither of them has really told him. He has made that mistake once with Eddie, assuming, he won't be making it again.

So Wayne waits. And waits. And waits. And just as he is thinking he might never get the verbal confirmation from the two, he gets the image clear as day of what the two are on a Tuesday when he gets to go home early from work.

It's just not in the way he expects or wants.

Wayne can't really blame the boys. They didn't know Wayne would be coming home early, it was a surprise to Wayne himself. So they probably didn't think that anyone would be coming around the Munson household on Tuesday at midnight.

That doesn't make the situation any less scarring.

See, Wayne Allen Munson wasn't a god-fearing man. He can't be with what his Eddie had been through. But he can't help but think this is some sort of cosmic punishment when he gets home and hears moaning.

Wayne stands there in the foyer as a loud, "Yes baby just like that" and "Oh god, harder" and even the unfortunate "You're so tight, it's like you were made for me."

Wayne thinks god might be laughing at him. Wayne can't really go upstairs and stop them. They are both adults and he feels that having an image of what they are doing would be substantially worse than the noises.

Wayne decides to put some earplugs in (which thankfully cut off the noise, since his age made him half deaf anyway), sat in his armchair, and waits it out.

About an hour later (jesus an hour later) Steve comes downstairs to the kitchen in only his boxers. He doesn't seem to notice Wayne. His head is in the freezer when Wayne decides to clear his throat loudly.

Steve slams his head in fright and whips around with an icepack in his hand. "Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right."

All the color drains from Steve's face. "How much did you hear?"

Wayne appreciates that Steve cuts right to the chase. "Enough." He knows he can explain to the boy that he didn't really hear that much, and the earplugs are firmly in his hands as evidence, but he decides to torture Steve.

Just a little bit, can't have him too comfortable.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Munson, I—"

Wayne cuts him off. "No need to apologize, just as long as you boys are being safe that's all I care about. No that ain't what I want to talk to you about."

Steve visibly swallows as he sits across the counter from Wayne. "What about then?"

"Look, I'm awfully happy for the two of you. It's about time you boys got your shit together—"

Steve lets out a small laugh at the comment. Wayne continues. "—but I need to make things clear with you Steve. You hurt my kid, I hurt you. Eds has been through a lot. Not just with the whole spring break situation. I mean his whole life. He bounced around from place to place until he landed on my doorstep. He's used to giving his all, and not getting much in return. Eddie loves with his whole chest, and he doesn't know how to do it any other way. You better make sure you're worthy of it because I am not sure anyone is...including me. You're pretty damn close though, I know it. I can see it. You're a good person. But that boy is my whole world. I know where to hide a body if need be."

Wayne expects Steve to cower in fear, but instead, he smiles softly at him. "Don't worry. I'll dig the grave myself. I'll try my best not to hurt him, sir. I can't promise much, but I can promise I'll love him every day without fail."

"You tell him that yet kid?"

Steve shakes his head, "No. I think soon though sir."

Wayne nods feeling satisfied. "Good, and enough of this sir crap I thought we've been over this."

"Okay, Wayne."

"Better. Now, who's the ice pack for? You or him, because I don't want to have to grab the shovel outta the shed tonight."

Steve's blush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. "Uuuh, for me sir. I mean Wayne."

"Good. Go grab my son for me now will ya?"

Steve stutters, "Wh-what? Why?"

"Just go grab 'em."

Steve runs upstairs and brings down a smug-looking Eddie. Wayne's sure Steve gave him the rundown of what he heard, and Eddie doesn't appear to be ashamed like Steve had the smarts to do.

Little shit.

"Sorry Wayne didn't know you were home. Was that what you wanted to talk about?"

Wayne looks from Steve to Eddie, before narrowing his eyes at the latter. "Nope. It's your turn."

"My turn?" Eddie's confident face turns confused while Steve's flashes surprise.

"Yea kid your turn." Wayne contemplates for a second what to say, but knows in the end that Eddie will get the message loud and clear from one sentence alone.

"You hurt him—" Wayne turns to point at Steve, before facing Eddie again "—I hurt you. Got it?"

All the color drains from Eddie's face. That's the reaction he is looking for.

"Got it." Eddie grabs Steve's hand to make his way back upstairs. Before they are completely out of sight, Steve catches Wayne's eye. The boy looks softer than he did before. He looks like he wants to say something but settles on,

"Goodnight Wayne."

"Goodnight Steve."

———

Steve doesn't ask Wayne about that night until months later in October. Wayne is on the couch with a beer when Steve walks in (he has the key Eddie gave him in September). "Eddie's not here right now. Think he's running late with band practice."

"Oh I'm sorry. I can come back later." Steve stands awkwardly in the doorway.

"Don't be silly come sit. I'm just watching the game. It's no cubs considering they didn't make it far, but it's still a good game."

Steve nods and makes himself comfortable on the couch. Since spring break, Wayne and Steve have built a friendship of sorts. Steve still shows signs of apprehension in the first few seconds, but the conversation becomes an easy flow after a while. They usually talk about sports, cars, or cooking. All stuff Wayne enjoys but Eds won't show the slightest interest in. It's nice, to have someone to share this stuff with.

Today they mostly talk about the game on tv and Eddie's habit of running late. It's after a particularly funny joke about Eddie being late to his own birth that Steve asks, "Hey Wayne, can I ask you something?"

"Ya just did kid."

"God, you sound like Eddie."

Wayne chuckles, "Sure Steve. Shoot."

"Why did you talk to Eddie too? About the whole, hurting each other stuff? I mean Eddie's your kid, and I'm just the guy who gets to spend time with him." Steve waves his hands around, it reminds Wayne of Ed.

"Well, I love ya both," Wayne says easily while he takes a sip of his beer, like it isn't hard to say. And it isn't really. It was quite simple to Wayne. Just like Eddie, Steve might not be his kid by blood but he is close as he can come.

"Oh." Steve takes a deep breath, as if he is holding back tears, and says "Thanks, Wayne. I love you too."

Wayne almost mistakes the pain as Steve's voice as reluctance. The happiness that shines in his eyes says something else. Says he doesn't hear that from fathers very often. Says he hopes Wayne means it.

He does mean it.

Eddie walks in the doorway to find the two men silently staring at each other, and Steve close to tears. "Well hello there my lovely family how are—Wayne what did you do to Steve? Did you yell at him? I promise the bruise on my face was from dropping a wrench while trying to fix the van. Nothing else." Eddie pulls Steve up and squishes his face between his hands. "What did he say to you, baby?"

Steve shakes his head and laughs lightly at Eddie's antics. "Nothing bad. Promise. Happy tears."

"Happy tears?"

"Happy tears."

Eddie stares at him for long moment before deciding he believes him. "Okay. Okay. I relent." He grabs Steve's hand and throws a wave at Wayne. "Let's go upstairs though, I have to tell you about practice and how Gareth brought a boy with him! And you'll never believe what boy it was! It was our little baby Byers himself..."

Wayne hears Steve's gasp and Eddie's giggle as he continues on up the stairs. Wayne can't help the warmth that settles in his chest.

Because Wayne Allen Munson is lucky to have two wonderful boys. And he is even luckier that his two boys love each other. Because they deserve that and so much more.

———

Okay, it’s a lot I know. I just couldn’t resist. I wanted to write Steve and Wayne too. I think this one is less sad and more funny but I think that kind of speaks for the kind of relationship the two of them would have. Also it contains much more steddie than the last one. I’m thinking about maybe writing a part 3 with Steve’s relationship with the kids and how he’s their father figure? But for now it ends here. Also this took me like two days to write? I’m sorry for any mistakes or rushed parts. I am one woman show. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Also I have finally posted on ao3!!! Can’t believe it, I’ve been so nervous about it especially because I am still without a beta. But this felt long enough to put there and I wanted to be able to share with more people.

access part. 1 here and ao3 here

#steddie heavy in this part #steddie #wayne munson #there is steddie I promise #cw: implied abuse/child neglect #cw: implied sex #steve harrington needs a hug #Steve Harrington #established relationship #stranger things #el hopper #the party #eddie munson #which now includes wayne #father son bonding with the two most emotionally repressed people #father figure #ficlet #my writing #steddie fic #ao3 #steve harrington centric #jim hopper centric #pre steddie #pre relationship #angst with a happy ending #angst #happy ending #Jim hopper is Steve’s dad #jim hopper #Wayne is Steve's dad too

[shourin]

madly in ̵l̷ov̸?̶e¿ voicelines

◇ ✨live✨ version (click to view)

◇ script version (under the cut)

(+bonus! heizou ー it's too bad i can't find his video :c ) same notes as this post for the live voicelines

| About [name]

Ah... Yes. Aren't they endearing?

Hm? I look... upset? My apologies. Please don't worry, as long as you don't harbor any... foul intent towards them, my blade will remain sheathed. You must have known by this point that I don't care for needless confrontations.

| Your Relationship

The protector and the protected would be the best description, I suppose. I try to be the best shelter that I could ever become for the tired dove that they are. A safe space to return to, someone to call home.

... Or at least, this is what I wish to become. My sweet [name] tells me that my protection suffocates them sometimes, but in this ruthless world where the gods will not hesitate to strike their subjects down, can you truly fault someone's desire to protect what is most important to them?

| Competitors

If there is anything I've learned from my life of wandering, it's that obstacles will always present themselves in one's journey. And to move forward, we must eradicate them, lest they ambush us in the future. Don't you agree?

| Would you ever let go?

I'm sure you, who have experienced losses in your journeys, will be able to relate to me when I say that... At a certain point, one will slowly become accustomed to separation and rejections. But do you know what lies past the grief and the numbness when you think it couldn't possibly get worse?

*chuckles* I'm afraid... I have gotten past that point.

| About [name]

Mm? Yes, what about my darling [name]?

Tread carefully now, comrade~ *chuckle*

| Your Relationship

Utterly head over heels, madly invested in each other, completely in love, and is in a loving relationship! Ahaha, don't give me that look! You were the one who asked!

Alright, alright, since you asked nicely... [name] has been with me for as long as I remember, actually. We were neighbors, and we kept in touch even after I joined the Fatui. They stuck by me through thick and thin, always smiling when they greeted me back at the village, despite knowing what I do for a living...

Tell me, how can one not fall in love with someone like that? Such a pure, untainted soul... Being around them feels like I've committed an unforgivable sin in itself, but alas, I've been utterly smitten and I can't exactly remember how to get out of this maze called love anymore. So I guess I'm staying for good, haha!

| Competitors

Ah, of course, there were many, many insects swarming around such beauty... The only irritating thing about it is that none of them - not even a single one - was a fun hunt! Can you believe it?? I've probably gone through a hundred of them by this point, but none makes a worthy opponent! *sigh* Life's hard when you're just too strong...

*grin* Speaking of which, how about it, Traveler? If you're free, why don't we do some sparring~?

| Would you ever let go?

Ahahaha! Comrade, you sure like to joke around...

Perhaps. If you can pry them off my dead body.

| About [name]

[name]? Yes, of course I know them. What do you think about them, Traveler?

Oh? My smile looks scary? I'm not sure what you mean by that, this is my usual smile. *chuckles* Why, have you done something that will potentially incur my wrath? Something like... taking a romantic interest towards my dear fiancé, perhaps?

That's not the case? Well, then, I believe there's nothing you should worry about!

| Your Relationship

[name] has stayed with me throughout my darkest hours. They... gave me much-needed comfort, when I had to take the mantle of the head of the clan. Though it is something I have prepared for my whole life, it was a rather sudden change, and the transition was abrupt. Coupled with the fact that there was no room for mistakes... Yes, I could never thank them enough.

I believe we've developed a deep bond because of it all. So, it's only natural that I repay them by providing them with the best luxuries and the safest shelter to call home. And as the spouse of the head of the Kamisato clan, they won't ever lack anything!

| Competitors

-and make sure to do it without any trace, as usual. You are dismissed.

... Hm? Oh, Traveler. To what do I owe the pleasure?

| Would you ever let go?

My, I'm afraid I'll need context on this one. If this is about my position as the head of my household clan, I would rather not, but I believe Ayaka will become a fine head in my place. If you're talking about the Shuumatsuban, it will undoubtedly cause a few issues. Still, I should manage to hire some elite private mercenaries in their stead, though it would not be preferable.

And if this is concerning [name], then the answer is rather simple:

No.

| About [name]

*smiles* [name] is my greatest treasure. I'm quite sure you've noticed the fondness I hold towards them. I can talk about them all day.

They are a kind one, for starters. Always wishing and striving to please everyone, sometimes to the point that they forgot about themselves. No matter in whichever lives, no matter their position... This aspect of them never changed. It worries me so. Yet, forcibly stripping this away from them would mean that I am rejecting who they are as a person. And that is not what I wish to do.

I'd like to think that I'm protecting them, by making sure that no one tries to take advantage of their kind nature. After all, is it not the job of a lover to make sure their beloved is safe and sound?

| Your Relationship

Would you believe me when I say that I have been in love with them for thousands of years? *chuckles* 

Be it Rex Lapis, Morax, or Zhongli... They have a firm hold of my heart. So it's only fair that I do so in return, don't you think?

| Competitors

As much as I would find it liberating to subdue those who do not deserve their attention, let alone be allowed to lay sight on them... I cannot.

We would not want the seas of Liyue Harbor to turn red from all the blood. It would be unhygienic.

| Would you ever let go?

..... All I wish for is for [name] to be safe.

And the safest place in all Teyvat is by my side.

| About [name]

Oh, did you meet [name]? I suppose you've been frequenting the Kamisato residence lately... What did you think about them?

Hmm, I see, I see! The young miss introduced the two of you! ... .That's fine then.

Aren't they really nice? Did they talk about me? I have some time to spare, so we can sit down for some tea! Why don't you tell me all about it over some tea time snacks?

| Your Relationship

"The perfect couple"? R-Really? Do people really say that? Aw, geez, that's kinda embarrassing, but it makes me happy that people recognize how well we get along with each other, haha!

[name] could be a little stubborn sometimes, but they're just the sweetest! *giggle* Oh, and don't worry, when we get married one day, I'll be sure to invite you as one of the guests!

| Competitors

*strained laugh* Uhm, well, I can't deny that there are a lot of people around us, and with me being busy tending to the Kamisato siblings' needs, there isn't enough time for me to regularly check on them...

B-But, the young master has been really kind, so I really have nothing to worry about! Huh? What kind of help did he provide? Well, there are numerous things, really. For example... He's provided me with an adequate living section in the Kamisato residence, since I'm the young miss' retainer, and he allowed [name] to reside there! Just normal things, you know? Man, I sure am glad I work for a really accommodating boss!

| Would you ever let go?

You know, my mom used to say, if you truly love someone, you should always keep them close to your heart... And I agree wholeheartedly with her! Plus, [name] enjoys my company very much, why would I 'let them go'?

| About [name]

My adorable significant other! What's this, are you investigating them for some reason, Traveler? I assure you, their background is completely clean, with no dirt in sight! I made sure of it, afterall~

Eh? What does that mean? Haha, who knows~

| Your Relationship

It's like a game of cat and mouse, most of the time. I find it mentally stimulating! They always love to test my intelligence by going into hiding somewhere, waiting for me to catch them! Isn't that cute? It's thrilling and keeps me on my toes, that's for sure! They're always so creative about it, too...

I do get worried from time to time, though. I mean, they might get hurt out there while they look for a hiding place... So if you ever spot them out there in any dangerous areas - which they're prone to wander off to - let me know straight away, okay? It might sound like I'm cheating by asking this from a lot of people, but I'd rather have [name] safe and my detective pride bruised rather than have them get hurt, or worse...

| Competitors

Now, see, to make a fair competition, the two candidates must have an equal footing with each other. However, I have yet to see someone who is as interested in [name] as I am, who is just as smart, good-looking, attentive, and capable as me - and to top it all off, have the ability and courage to do whatever it takes to ensure their safety and comfort! So there isn't really any competition going on here, is there?

| Would you ever let go?

Haha, is that a serious question?

Look here partner - a detective worth their salt will chase its target until the end of the world. Now, I'm not saying [name] is a criminal or anything like that, but all I'm saying is...

... I'm not the type who would let my prey get away, you see.

And it's not like I have a shortage of handcuffs to use, haha!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere #kazuha #tartaglia #childe #kamisato ayato #ayato #heizou #zhongli #thoma #kazuha x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #heizou x reader #zhongli x reader #thoma x reader #rin writes #rin uses her programming skill to have fun

[qqueenofhades]

Maybe this is a controversial opinion, but its one that I've been reminded of in the few weeks since things have escalated so severely in Israel and Palestine-- I feel like the pressure for random, average individuals online to be vocally political is not only entitled and uncomfortable, but also just an example of misplaced priority.

Like, I have people on twitter right now that are flat out saying if you don't talk extensively about I/P you're truly, irredeemably evil. I've had mutuals say that silence means you're complacent in genocide, that you have blood on your hands (exact words). But it just doesn't make sense? Most of the people who I've seen being flat out harassed for being silent are teenagers who don't have money to donate, working class folks who don't have time to spare, and normal people who just don't have enough of a following online to even spread any word effectively. Of course, the ones doing the harassing are also poor/busy/not-popular, but they don't see the irony. (I've also seen them say that talking about war constantly is taking a toll on their mental health, saying they've cried, had nightmares, panic attacks, etc...but they also say that taking a mental health break from social media is "selfish" and genocidal, so.)

The whole interaction leaves me with so many questions. If stepping away from social media because politics are stressing you out (which they are known to do), are you obligated to use social media? Do you have to use twitter to be a good person? What does that say about people who can't afford a phone, or live in a country where it isn't quite possible? (Are homeless folks inherently genocidal, or is that an "obvious" exception that was never clarified because no one uses nuance anymore?) If you have to talk about world events, lest you side with the oppressor, at what point is something so catastrophic you *must* talk about it? Is there a number of lives lost that is low enough you can get away with being quiet, and a certain amount too high that you're obligated to talk about it? Is it your duty to have the news on 24/7 to make sure you don't miss anything and catch all the global disasters as they happen? How much do you have to talk about something for it to be considered "enough"? Is there a quota??

It just feels like a lot of people are acting as if people who aren't chronically online aren't 1. doing any activism, because the only important activism is social media networking (sarcasm), or 2. are inherently bad people for *not* spending 6 hours a day on their phones. Like, I had someone I thought was a friend say I was a bad person because I was trying to cut down my social media usage, because the timing was "too convenient"... as if that's a normal thing to say to someone, ever. Sorry if I went on a little bit of a rant, it wasn't my intention. I dunno, maybe it's just me; I've seen a lot of people saying this sort of stuff so maybe they are the majority. It just feels really weird to let people that are addicted to social media take charge of who online is "good" or "bad" based off their internet usage. As if we were all catholics or something. If I were to say that current takes on morality were very catholic-seeming, would you know what I mean?

As recently noted, I am myself on an embargo from answering asks related to this topic. I will make one exception because this is important. Please note that any wank in replies or reblogs will be instantly blocked (and I won't hesitate to disable reblogs if necessary). I will not be answering follow-up asks or getting drawn into Discourse. I do not want to do it and it will not be happening.

I have said it before, but it bears saying again: thinking that the only way to Do Activism is to be constantly on social media and immersing yourself in terrible things nonstop and then posting the Most Correct Opinions (and then viciously attacking anyone who is even slightly Not As Correct as you) is absolutely bullshit. If you're engaging with this content so much that it's giving you a mental breakdown or otherwise plunging you into a spiral of anxiety that you take out on other people who are just as far removed from actually doing anything about it as you: why? Do you really think that you and you alone, one random person on the Internet, are the only way anyone else is going to find out about these things? Or do you think you have to perform the Most Correct Opinions nonstop, viciously harass anyone who isn't responding in exactly the same way, and this is the sum total of what your response should be? Especially in a situation as bloody and complicated as this, dealing with reams of religious, social, cultural, and political history where the average commentator on this conflict knows only what's been fed to them by propaganda on TikTok? How the fuck is that useful or constructive for anyone, aside from perpetuating the idea that you have to be angry all the time on social media about things you essentially know nothing about? I can't see that it does.

What's happening to the Gazans right now is no qualification or equivocation, a genocide. It should rightfully be opposed and called what it is. But unfortunately, I have spent too much time around Western Online Leftists to believe they actually care a whit about stopping genocide as a fundamental principle, and only want to be seen to loudly care about what their Ideology has told them to care about. If it means hand-waving aside genocide and atrocities when committed by their preferred polities, so be it. Why haven't these same people been wall-to-wall up in arms about what Russia has been doing in Ukraine, or for God's sake Syria for the past ten years, if they're really concerned about the rights of innocent Muslim civilians attacked by a far-right imperialist power? Why not the Uighurs in China? Why not [insert the blank] of all the terrible things happening in the world as a result of far-right fascist genocidal imperialism? Why only this conflict? Why now? Why does it involve so much excusing of terrorism as long as it's committed for the Right Ideology? Why are some of the most loudly pro-Palestinian accounts on here also the most rabidly pro-Russian? How does that make sense? To put it bluntly, those genocides are being committed by nation-states that Online Leftists like for being "anti-Western," and therefore their activities are actually fine and should even need to be defended.

My point is not to say that what's happening to the Palestinians is not bad. It is. It is awful and inexcusable. However, I seriously doubt the motives and morality of those who are being the loudest about screaming on social media and attacking everyone else for not instantly repeating their views. I seriously doubt that the Online Left actually opposes genocide and accelerationism as fundamental principles, because they proudly demonstrate every day that they don't. Until those vast factors can be dismantled and shown for what they are, and this can be placed into its larger context, I don't buy it and I don't believe this wall-to-wall social media outrage factory is actually aimed at helping the Gazans or anyone else suffering the most as a result of this. It is just to show that they can be counted on to Perform Outrage and harass anyone else who doesn't do the same, and that does nothing for anyone whatsoever.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #israel hamas war #once again any wank will be blocked #reblogs will be turned off if needed #i will not be elaborating further #the end

[mondaymelon]

never again. (yandere!childe x gn!reader)

warnings! this series will contain yandere implications, mentions of murder, kidnapping, stalking, and blackmail usage.

(a/n) this post contains triggering topics and generally dark themes. please read at your own risk. ^^ requests are open! 2/4✩

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

He had let you go once. It had been a foolish mistake. And since then he vowed to never do so again.

To you, he had always been Tartaglia, your always joking around higher-up. The two of you were close, both of you having been from Shneznaya and training in the same working regimen for a little over three years now. Tartaglia had grown to be powerful enough for the position of Harbinger, but you on the other hand maintained as a Fatui general, which was just fine by you. Leading people in battle and going over war tactics was certainly a much easier job than having to give a pep talk to new recruits.

Just the thought of having to be all cheery and go-happy made you shudder. Tartaglia had despised the idea too, but had eventually gotten used to it over the months.

Still, he always tried to make time for you despite his hectic schedule. It was sweet, to say the least. He even invited you to a tavern once and had you try alcohol for the first time. The vodka had been bitter but slightly sweet, and you found yourself to enjoy it in the presence of the familiar man.

However, after he was sent to settle things in Liyue, and you in Inazuma, the two of you had no choice but to part ways. He had cried then, after he had heard the news. The moment he had saw you, his face broke into a teary expression and he had ran over to give you a tight hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much…!" He had mumbled into your ear, still holding onto you with his strong grip. "…I can't even begin to understand what it's going to be like without you."

"You're going to be okay, Taglia. I just know it." You patted the males back, slightly puzzled on what to do next. As he released his grasp on you, he only stared at you with his shimmering azul eyes.

"But I won't even be able to talk to you anymore." The male pouted. "And who'll take your place as my drinking buddy?"

"Oh- I'm sure you'll find someone." You waved your hand nonchalantly, grinning sheepishly at the boy in the hopes of giving him some comfort. "Besides, we'll still be able to exchange letters."

"But no one can replace you!"

"Tsarista's orders are Tsarista's orders, Taglia. We have to leave, but it's not the end."

"Then why does it feel like it is?"

You blinked at the male, startled. He never usually acted like this, so full of emotion or having such a large willpower or opinion on something. It made you… confused, to say the least. "I think what you need is some rest. We depart tomorrow morning, right? Let's say our goodbyes then and not dwell on such sad things now."

"…"

"Okay?"

"Alright."

"Good." Reaching up at the taller male and standing on your tippie-toes, you managed to give him a couple reassuring headpats. "Now then, let's go eat dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺ 🕤 ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺

"You'll watch over them, right?" Tartaglia scanned his blank eyes across the row of kneeling soldiers in front of him, searching for any signs of weakness. If they were to be the people tasked with guarding his favorite person in the whole of Teyvat, he had to make sure they were more than competent.

"Yes, sir." They all responded in unison.

"And you'll make sure they don't get hurt?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmmm… then…" The harbinger whipped out his bow in a single fluid moment, easily creating a pair of blades that swirled with elemental energy. "Come on then, it's time to test your strength. Let's spar."

"S-Sorry?"

"Did you not hear me the first time? Get up, soldiers, and ready your weapons, for here I come!" With that, the male leaped into a battle stance, eyes glimmering with excitement. A hesitant Electrohammer Vangaurder stepped up the challenge, steadying his grip on his weapon as he stared down the ginger with glowing violet eyes. Letting out a mighty yell, he brought down the load, crackling with electro energy, and split the floor just as the harbinger leapt into safety.

"Too slow. Are all of you this pathetically weak?"

A particularly swift pyro agent speeded through the ranks, disappearing into the scenery as he used his invisibility techniques. Shooting a hand out into the seemingly empty air, Tartaglia caught the man by the throat and lifted him up into the air with a manic smile spreading across his face.

"Weak."

He repeated the word as he brought a swarm of pyroslinger bracers to their knees, clutching their bloody sides.

And yet again as he drove and weaved his blades about the whole of cryo and hydro gunners, the fatui legionares pointing their guns only at empty air before realizing that the harbinger was behind them and already knocking them out with the brunt of his blade.

And he said it one last time as the last cicin mage was rendered unconscious, collapsing to the ground, lamp flickering weakly.

"How will you ever protect my darling when all you can do is be weak? This won't do. This won't do at all." Staring at the carnage that he had made, still figures and splatters of blood covering the floor, he only let out a little laugh.

"That's right. It should be me. I was a fool to trust them. It should be me by your side, protecting you from every danger. I am the only one who can do it. It should be me. Me." He didn't seem to care if anyone was listening, after all, who could stop him? He had seen them, all of them, all of their pathetic little bodies crumpling onto the ground like the fleas they were.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure to get through to you somehow and take care of all the... annoyances in your path. All you need to do is trust me." With that, the bloodied harbinger stumbled away, grabbing his coat off of its rack and readying a steed. "I'm leaving now. Don't send anyone after me." He imparted a few quick words to the guard at the watch tower, deciding to ignore the flitting look of horror on his face.

"We'll meet again soon. I'll make sure of it."

-- end of part 1.

(part 2 coming out 3/7/2023)

masterlist. next.

#mondaymelon #yandere genshin x you #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin childe #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia #childe #ajax x reader #ajax x you #childe x reader #childe x y/n #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #genshin fanfiction #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #yandere childe

[eluxcastar]

As I opened my tumblr, just to check if there is new Arlecchino stuff to swallow... lo and behold, I saw your post with the Arlecchino simp tags. Shot me the moment I stepped into the door right there, hahaha! May I request an Arlecchino x reader, headcanon or anything you're comfortable coming up with. The reader is thousands of years old, who got disowned by the Tsaritsa because they declined their performance in greatness for someone else's benefit and saw no worth in her/them. Could be a sibling or a friend, the betrayal stung like a bee since she/they saw Tsaritsa as a mother figure or could literally be the mother (Got kunikuzushi'd in a way, minus the puppet part). So, here's the main part - How Arlecchino would handle that person, when they meet in hostile terms. An accidental encounter, had banters and fights and eventually found strange subtle solace from each other. Could be romantic, or just obsession on Arlecchino's part because we love deranged women pls step on me with your sharp heels - anyway, since Arlecchino is interpreted as someone who won't hesitant to betray the Fatui. On her own benefit, works with the reader to mess and interrupt Fatui operations. I won't include more or else you'd be dealing a whole thesis of it. Hahahah! Good day to you~!

One of Repetition

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: in a strange decision nobody quite understood but could not contest, you were dismissed from your position by the tsaritsa herself but allowed to live. you wander for some time, lost and confused, and most notably unable to escape the fatui even when you are no longer associated with them, which means an unwanted letter and an even more unwanted visit from the knave.

୨୧﹑genre :: kinda angsty

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader has a pyro vision, arlecchino has a cryo delusion, reader uses a bow, capitano is not human this time, he's just a plot device too, their previous relationship is implied but ambiguous, implied age difference, reader is most often called by the title brighella, writing this spiralled me into insanity, possibly bad writing, not proofread 

୨୧﹑words :: 13.6k

hehe, I know that Arlecchino simps flock to me once they learn my requests are open. I have no idea why. maybe they're just especially desperate for food, but they linger, and I have a little collection of anons.

don't worry about how much it'll take me, I honestly enjoy writing longer works. anyway, I received a request similar to this some time ago (was it you? I have encountered that before) but haven't gotten around to completing it, so I'll be partly combining the two

here's the other request:

it's gonna provide some stuff for me to follow, and I remember exactly when I got it, so I wanted to include it for the dear anon who sent it

why brighella you may ask well that's because brighella has been described before as essentially Arlecchino's smarter and more vindictive brother and they compliment each other well. I think Arlecchino may also work for Brighella in some versions?? either way it felt right even though they're not really based off of the character brighella, they do share a few traits with him but not fully it's just a fun little parallel

I really did not expect this to be so long that it literally lagged the writing program I was using to save it and I have been staring at this for so long I literally have no gauge on the quality anymore just that it's variable because it took me so long someone send help

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother— your world— turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him. 

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes, prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight ten other Harbingers. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that. Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fought for you and did not deserve a punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you, "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really. There is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette. "What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else." 

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure him to a place. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you. 

She needs your name, reputation, your relationship with your subordinate, melding together with her lies to make for a tale of tragedy with him as the hero.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim. 

His death was another factor to hold over your head, your penance, the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with anger, but you cannot fight. Despite your feelings of anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to. 

But...you must. 

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition. 

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him." 

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that thin mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity, being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he treasures to this day. Even if he was to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach. 

-

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value. 

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her less-- to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since before the Archon War. What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them? The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks, the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. In this state, you required her for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all of eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance. 

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. It's possible that he has become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watched set, you would never come to terms with it living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last. Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger, years of your life spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair.

You almost want to call them wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this...perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours. 

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides your own arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

-

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have nothing but your vision and bow left to aid your defence. Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to have to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it. 

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

There is a stark silence that is deafening to your ears.

-

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on. The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in your honour, believing that you had passed away. All of them are completely unaware that as they remark on the death of Brighella, they are speaking to the former Harbinger, who asks about the news under the guise of being a curious traveller. They also strongly advised you against venturing into the innermost heart of the nation. If anyone were to notice the helmet carefully secured around your waist, it might bring unwanted attention to your travels.

Though you were stripped of your insignia, you have your armour, which by some grace had been spared from confiscation. Though a seemingly trivial act of kindness, a sense of pride swelled within you as you gazed upon it. You are glad it is still yours. This armour had accompanied you through countless blood-soaked skirmishes, serving as a steadfast shield against all manner of danger. 

It is at that moment you decide to treat it as a trophy. Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying. Now, the armour which once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. You know that you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. Already, the whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path and in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence. Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was only the Fourth of the Tsaritsa's children, but she was the most combat-heavy, and no one wished to cross her, except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have immeasurable wealths of information that spill with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength a tad as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuttals the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening again.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly down on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such...devotion."

"It's strange, but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it just as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of Fourth Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it." 

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

God, these people are so dull. Just listening to them, you can tell they know nothing of the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth. 

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya." 

"So what if I am?"

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as it was before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and every human who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose. 

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte. 

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about. Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall that's called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night." Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you declare your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

-

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment. 

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth as they boasted of their encounters with you lured others who came to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly provided a boost to business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business. 

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you.  

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but completely contrary it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier. 

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of people who don't belong, and you slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the Harbour.

Wangshu Inn is still within Liyue but at a considerable distance from the Harbour, a mid-point between there and the border to Mondstadt. It is quieter, which is neither good nor bad, and home to some very understanding owners who ask so few questions it almost alarms you. Nonetheless, you crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought out a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged for when you eventually return to it. You feel compelled to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. Admittedly floor-length dresses and extravagance are not your style after years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour, but there's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked them anyway, just...not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels...good. 

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

The new outfit is making you giddy, too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this different. While you typically associate a sense of satisfaction with having earned it through hard work or perseverance, this newfound exuberance seems to come from just existing in your new clothes. You are happy just because even if there is nothing to feel happy about. It's as if the simple act of wearing them has given you a boost, despite not having accomplished anything significant. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it. 

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway.

"If you've come looking for work, the Adventurer's Guild may have a place for you." A suggestion from a merchant who struck up an idle conversation with you for some reason sticks with you. You can't say why, but you imagine a product of boredom.

"They accept anyone?" Your surprise is evident in your tone, as you thought they might have tighter restrictions.

Just as in disbelief fact as you are, he shrugs, "As long as you've got enough power to back yourself, a friend of mine said they'll accept anyone."

That sounds far too good to be true, at least for your taste. "And it doesn't matter where you come from or where you go?"

"Adventurers are known to get restless in one place for too long."

"I see, and you can just go up a--"

"Excuse me, miss." You don't remember hearing that voice, but you recognise the attire when you turn your head just enough to be met with the sight of a cicin mage standing before you impatiently awaiting your attention. The top half of her face is concealed, as is customary, but there's no mistaking the unkind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as you meet her gaze.

Has she come for retribution? 

Despite your fears of having to make a mess, the woman reveals a letter that is sealed with wax and extends it towards you, expecting you to receive it sooner rather than later as she waves it slightly as a form of incentive. "From the Damselette," she adds.

"What could the Damselette want with me?"

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. She's slowly unveiling her contempt at your presence; you're very aware of that fact. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. "I don't know. I'm not privy to those things."

Your eyes glance over her from head to toe in thought, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver. "You are not a guest." She states that fact with glaringly false politeness.

"Everyone who recieves correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest."

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you look up to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response."

Just as she believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such. Your lies have reached her ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them.

You expected threats and unfair deals, but it is only an update on what is happening regarding your position, the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. A half-hearted apology and an excuse. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a funeral but a ceremony to announce the next Harbinger does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place. It was a planned betrayal.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason, perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies, she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds and all that anyone speaks of. 

Il Capitano. His name is Il Capitano.

Personally, you would not have picked it, but that does not mean that you hate the name. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

"Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person."

-

You won't go back. It's a trap.

Irritated, you find yourself back in the heart of the country where nobody lurks, haphazard in the way you fire your arrows at every creature that dares to disturb your sense of peace. It's hard to focus, and you don't bother trying. Liyue is not the same as Snezhnaya, with open plains broken up by rocky mountains. The creatures are mostly the same, and all die the same, hilichurls and geovishaps running rampant and shot down into piles of meat and rocks.

It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, as there's nobody around to hear it. You could scream, cry, and throw a tantrum all you want, and it won't matter. Even if you throw yourself at the ground and bang your head into the dirt, nobody will see it.

This is all pointless. You will never escape. It will never matter how far you roam or how fast you run.

Why did you think you could? Had your brain melted from your head?

There is no other side. There is no salvation. You are owned from the day you're brought in until the day you die, but why? Why did they want to bring you back to Snezhnaya? What was the point? You are out of the way now, hardly causing trouble for them. Despite this, everything seems to be running smoothly, even with the liberties you have taken in your new role. Was that it? The reason they wanted you to see?

It must be. There is no other reason to risk exposing the lie otherwise. Unless it was to tarnish the Fatui's reputation.

You refuse to believe it is something as innocent as wanting to see your request honoured. Nothing is innocent within the Fatui, not an action without hidden intentions or motives. Centuries of watching their misdeeds from the inside, which always go unpunished and unchallenged by anyone except the powerless commoners, have taught you that there is always an ulterior motive lurking behind their actions.

Not to mention it came from Columbina.

You must've spent three days out there before finally returning to Wangshu Inn, dirtied by the elements and craving something to eat, like a child's insatiable desire for sweets. The dead of night provides a cover for you to take a dip in the water beside the inn in an attempt to rinse the dirt and sweat off of you. It dawns on you that your new clothes would've been ruined if you hadn't had the foresight to change before venturing out again. In that moment, thoughts of the Fatui and the memories evoked by your armour flooded your mind, and you didn't want the same thing to happen to the clothes that had made you so happy from the moment you put them on.

It feels childish how you cling to these things.

A part of you just can't help it, torn between holding onto the memories that define who you believe yourself to be and starting anew with a clean slate. Neither can win. One is stuck on the past and what little you have of it, and the other wants to abandon all of that and start completely fresh.

The half-compromise you are trying desperately to make work by accepting that what's gone is gone while keeping your armour close to your heart is obviously not working. The thought of discarding it pains you too much to actually do it, plagued by the urge to melt it down to scrap metal while also being overwhelmed by the knowledge you will regret doing that as soon as you see the mess that would be left of it.

Your new clothes make you happy, so you need more new things to make you even happier, right? If new means you glean happiness, then more new is what will help you move past all of this deliberation in your head.

Clothes were a given, and...maybe a haircut? Yeah. You should try cutting your hair and decide on a name for yourself that isn't Brighella. Something you want, a name you like, that you can look at yourself and see that person reflected in a mirror. The person you think you are supposed to be when you look past the expectation that has been instilled in you.

That merchant you spoke to mentioned the Adventurer's Guild might have a place for you. What if you should be helping people instead of hurting them? What if you only did that to please the Tsaritsa?

In the background of your thoughts, you walk yourself back to your room at the Wangshu Inn and collapse onto your bed, thinking. Though you are exhausted, you cannot bring yourself to sleep for one reason or another. You make excuses for yourself just to ignore the glaring root of the problem you know is there but refuse to acknowledge. The problem isn't really how hot or cold the room is or the texture of your blankets and how much you dislike the humidity in the air. Something else entirely is keeping you from rest.

Your hair isn't the problem either, or your clothes. Even your lack of a proper name really doesn't bother you. They're only the illusion of change you're using to cover up how truly lost you have become now that you have to think for yourself.

How long have you been alive now? Centuries at least. You can't even live independently after that long? No. No, you can't.

You are so lonely, you are lost, you are confused. You need company, you need guidance, and you need purpose. How are you supposed to live? Where is the person who will tell you what to do every day? 

You have to make that choice yourself? You can't do that. You've never done that. 

The thought of even something so basic scaring you so severely brings you to a weakness you never realised you even possessed. Fear surges through the very depths of your being, an unfamiliar sensation that you find unsettling. You don't like it, but it's an impossible feeling to push down and ignore. Over the years, you had quietly collected your shortcomings into a neat little jar and pushed it aside, out of sight, away from your conscious thought, as if pretending you were invincible. 

What would you have done if you had gotten to Capitano? Make him decide?

He can't. He's not human. He doesn't know enough to decide. You've only made him just like you, a fearsome man until he's abandoned and vulnerable like you have become, and then he'll be pathetic and helpless too.

Nothing came out of any of your efforts, did it? It couldn't have possibly. Even with every attempt you made, it was always doomed to fail.

-

It turns out that the Adventurer's Guild was more than happy to take you in, in a way. They put you right to work. It helps to take your mind off of things if nothing else. It's mindless work, able to tune out everything in your brain and run on auto-pilot. You take to this life so well it scares you, completing your tasks with so little trouble you wonder how this isn't more popular, even if some are arguably unnecessary. If only you were good at proper cooking, you might get rich from the tens of requests for certain dishes. 

You're irresistibly drawn to the combat, right back to the heat of battle where you feel truly alive. In all you've had to question, your love for the thrill of fighting has never been up for debate. You're unsure whether it's the adrenaline or something else, but you don't care to know, either. You don't concern yourself with such questions. It's not important to you why, so long as you find comfort in it. It's the one thing you cannot be robbed of. 

A hard day's work is always rewarding.

"Make sure you be careful today." A fellow adventurer is quick to catch you before you can wander off for your next quest, smiling and unbothered despite his words. You've never met him, but he speaks as if you have.

Something about the bond of adventurers is so reminiscent of the Fatui.

You turn back to place your full attention on him rather than the grilled tiger fish you had acquired out of curiosity about the taste. "Why's that?" You're not too bothered, expecting him to tell you that it's dangerous out there, the Abyss Order existing and all.

"The Fatui are restless."

His words catch you off-guard, light in tone as they are. In outward appearances, he's mostly unbothered, while the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You try to grasp your bearings just enough to speak. "They don't do that for fun." Something about it is just as shaky as you expected, unable to fully mask it, but you figure he'll blame it on nerves.

"Harbinger, apparently." He doesn't draw attention to your demeanour, so neither do you.

"Which one?"

"Dunno."

It's probably Columbina. Maybe you pissed her off when you shot the messenger. Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate that. When you did it in a fit of anger, you expected her to find it funny after coming to your senses.

"Hey. Something wrong?"

You startle as you realise he had been speaking that whole time, and you just weren't listening.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's weird that they'd be up and about so soon after the newest was officially promoted."

You deadpan a little, realising it wasn't something of actual value, just a misconception that the greatest powers that be in Snezhnaya aren't spiteful enough to hate each other just as much as they hate everyone else. "Not really. They're not particularly sentimental."

"They don't even care to go out drinking for their own?"

"They hardly know how to tolerate each other." You realise your slip of the tongue too late, seeming too familiar. That's a problem. He barely draws attention to it, only making a strange face.

"Well, whatever the reason, work doesn't stop for them."

In silence, you agree and continue your day as if you really believe that.

-

As you wrap up your work for the day, you feel a sense of pleasant exhaustion wash over you. It struck you as strange that nobody was out in the wild, even the usual fatuus you avoid. Something about it was uniquely eerie. It dawns on you why he came to the conclusion that the Fatui were 'restless'. They must have retreated into the city to prepare for the impending arrival of the Harbinger destined to disrupt the small peace you had found. The sudden influx of fatuus in Liyue would make it seem like they are increasing in numbers nationwide when in reality, they are just moving.

You're not going to let it bother you for now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you have promised yourself that repeatedly and have found it to be a lie, but you mean it this time. You're familiar enough with the workings of the Fatui to know that they don't like to leave sectors alone for too long, and Liyue had spent a fair time before your dismissal unchecked. 

Even at night, you remain unbothered when you wander Liyue for a time, looking for something to do and notice what he was talking about.

Many of them are fussing more than usual, meaning that chances are it's too late to inhibit the process of this Harbinger arriving. You could turn tail and run, scurry off to the other side of Teyvat and settle in Fontaine or even Natlan, but you like it here.

You sit in the heart of Liyue, listening to a speaker tell his stories. You know you shouldn't linger, but you tell yourself you can for just a little while longer. It reminds you of the past, filled with Liyue legends you remember hearing about as news at the time they took place. The fact these tales are now old enough to be suitable for a speaker's recitation as 'legends' is a grim reminder that maybe you're older than you realised. Your early life is now from the time of legends. You can push that feeling aside to focus on the nostalgia of hearing these stories.

Beside you, you hear the chair move but don't budge from looking to see who it is, assuming that all other chairs are taken or that it's an adventurer who got curious, possibly even the man you had spoken to earlier about all of the Fatui--

“Reminiscing, Brighella?”

You recognise both that voice and that name and go stiff, eyes finding her before your head can even turn in her direction.

In front of you—or rather, across from you—the Knave sits upon the other chair at your table as if she was always supposed to be there, seemingly at ease, but you know better than to assume her guard is down. Arlecchino has always had an icy composure, though she can be hot-headed at times and can lose her temper when provoked. It's not surprising that she was able to track you down, even without knowing what your face looks like.

She turns to you leisurely, unhurried. "I came to look for you since you missed the ceremony." It sounds like a greeting the way she speaks those words. You suppose it is one, really.

Ah, maybe you should've been worried after all.

You try to play off your emotions as if you're completely unfazed by her presence. It's the only way to maintain some semblance of control. "Did Columbina not like my gift?"

"Oh, she rather enjoyed it." Arlecchino maintains a similar composure, knowing approaching you in public means employing subtlety as much as it means she's less likely to be attacked. "She felt it was just the kind of gift you would give."

"I try my best not to disappoint." Your response is less enthusiastic than you might like, a hint of nervousness infesting your brain and refusing to budge.

Despite this, she doesn't notice, not outwardly. Really, that means nothing, as you are very aware of how good her poker face is. "Il Capitano hasn't stopped speaking about how much he'd like to kill you. You don't want to disappoint, do you?" When you were waiting for her to speak, those weren't the words you expected to hear, but somehow you're not fully surprised either.

"I see, so my lies reached even his ears." 

You thought as much.

"I think you'll be quite surprised when you see him." Her reply is so cocky that you almost scoff at her.

"Who said I would be seeing him?" You try to match the audacity she had to make such a remark.

She turns to you rather casually for the words she speaks, an odd tone you can't quite place, lacing her words half like mockery. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's that question that makes you snort and turn away as you realise that her negotiation and persuasion skills are abysmal for such a cunning and intelligent woman. "Not enough to become foolish enough to trust someone whose title denotes them as dishonest and untrustworthy." You always wondered about that, really. "A name like 'the Knave' really isn't subtle."

"Funny." She doesn't laugh or even smile. "I believe yours was something close to 'bother'."

You lean back in your chair, testing it slightly as you push the front legs off the floor as a means of entertaining yourself through this frankly dull conversation. "Then I suppose we're both living up to our names."

She remains silent for several seconds, pondering her next words. You can see her fingers rub against the wood of the chair as a distraction. 

"The others told me it was pointless to try to bring you back."

"They were right."

"You won't come back for any reason?"

"I know a trap when I see one."

"Of course."

Silence, again. You don't care to break it, either. You came to hear the stories, and you really would like to continue that rather than listening to her voice, but she's not making it easy.

"Is that all now?" Your voice shows your impatience more than you might like, but you realise it may work in your favour if she senses she's annoying you.

For the first time in a while, she smiles faintly to herself. "For now. Your answer is abundantly clear." She appears to concede, if only for a little while

You let the chair land back on all of its legs and lean your elbow on the table. 

"Are you going to get out of that chair?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"It's comfortable."

The urge to roll your eyes brims in your mind, but you stop yourself. You don't want to give the Knave the satisfaction of knowing something she is already well aware of. Besides that, you don't want her to know that you really don't want her here in any capacity. Arlecchino's presence is never a good thing.

You let out a tentative breath as you consider your next words quite carefully. The wrong thing might have Arlecchino never leaving you, and the right one might drive her back to Snezhnaya if you're lucky. You shift your whole body to face her. "You just arrived from Snezhnaya, I take it. What do you want to eat?"

She eyes you suspiciously, scrutinising you for any sign of trying to fool her into consuming poison or making herself sick. "You're feeding me now?"

You pretend you don't notice her intensity. "Well, you're not leaving. It would look strange for me to order food for myself."

Again she smiles to herself, a light mockery that's cautious and testing, easing herself into accepting your offer. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

"You could starve if you'd prefer." You turn away as you speak and don't look back, shifting yourself back in your seat to be front-facing.

There's a quietness between the two of you, both waiting for the answer to your proposal. You have an inkling Arlecchino will accept, but you don't know with her. She never seemed especially pleased by the times the Jester would convene you all over meals and such, ending up in fights and bickering. She never fought with you, however, so perhaps it's different. 

"Order whatever you like."

You find yourself looking intently at a list of the options on the menu. It's quite a lengthy list. "Mm..." Even though it's just a false invitation and you're doing it to be courteous, you can't say you aren't enjoying the thought of picking out a meal and sharing it with her. Despite your removal from the Fatui's affairs for some time, you'd be lying if you thought you weren't at least a little curious. "Jade Parcels...and maybe Jade Fruit Soup? But Dragon Beard Noodles sound good too..."

Becoming slightly irritated by your indecision, Arlecchino looks across the table to where you are sitting deep in thought. "Is it that complicated of a decision?"

You spare her only a glance before returning to looking for something she would enjoy. "I have to pick something you'll like, don't I?"

Soup is more challenging to share than noodles are.

With that, your decision is made, and you settle. Despite yourself, you are somewhat restless in thought. Arlecchino's lack of contribution is slightly frustrating, but it sounds like she'd be content with anything. You're not sure if your choice is the correct one, but you believe you picked something to the best of your abilities that is easy, even to a foreign tongue. As far as you know, Arlecchino is from Fontaine. You've never eaten like this with Arlecchino to know her tastes or dietary restrictions.

"Jade Parcels and Dragon Beard Noodles. Sound good?"

"It'll do."

"Good. I'll go order it, then."

Arlecchino must be surprised that you returned, as she doesn't seem too thrilled. She never really does, but there was a disappointed glint in her eye right up until you walked in front of her to get to your chair. 

It continues until you get the food, and Arlecchino finally stares at it with an overwhelming sense of dread, left with an intense feeling of apprehension regarding whether. You appear not to hesitate, though this arrangement isn't quite what she had expected. Arlecchino had thought you would order enough dishes that you wouldn't have to share, but you seemed to understand it in a way that meant you would be eating from the same bowl.

You notice her hesitation almost immediately, yet your vexation with her arrival makes you unwilling to acknowledge that you know the reason, a deliberate miscommunication on your part. "Mm. I didn't think this through." Your words seem to make her perk up as if you will free her from her awkwardness by asking for another bowl. "You probably aren't used to using chopsticks, are you? Not many dishes that need those back home."

She knows you're toying with her, that sweet smile from across the table hardly hiding your true intentions. Arlecchino waits, watching to see what you will do next, as she looks back at you with a scowl. 

Her eyes do not leave you as you wordlessly collect a Jade Parcel and present it to her like you are patronising her with this action. Your feigned kindness, this supposed benevolence of you offering to feed her like a child, no doubt hoping she'll back down and excuse herself completely. 

She won't let you do that and have the satisfaction of seeing her back down. She won't allow you to break her facade of acceptance.

Though you circle the food in front of her slowly, only a motion with your fingers trying to convince her or make her as uncomfortable as possible, Arlecchino continues to stare for several more moments. Eventually, she musters the courage to relinquish some of her pride.

Arlecchino leans in slightly, just enough to open her mouth and take a bite from the food you hold out for her. Despite the circumstances that led to this moment, she can't help but acknowledge your good taste. Arlecchino couldn't possibly eat another bite that way, though. Not being fed by the woman who is now her adversary just to avoid her 'winning' in the situation, but admitting she is willing to let you get under her skin is not an option either.

She must treat this situation differently, as if you are merely feeding her out of obligation to her rather than because you have your own motives.

It hardly stops her from enjoying her portion of the meal from the chopsticks you share with her. At some point, it finally occurs to her that you only hold one pair, leaving her set untouched despite feeding her. You had been feeding her with the same set you ate with the entire time, and while you were well aware of that, it hardly seemed to alarm you as much as it alarmed her.

Your biggest disappointment was being unable to get rid of her that whole time, watching her readily accept whatever you tried to use against her. Watching a Harbinger practically bow their head and obey you, however, fuels your consciousness. It's like eye candy to think back and realise you did that.

It's another one of your quiet defiances against the Tsaritsa. You wonder how far you can take it.

As you stand from your seat, you stretch your arms above your head until you hear a faint pop as all the tension in your back relaxes. "I don't imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon."

"No. I have plenty of business outside of you." It's not a lie. She's got a lot to do in Liyue even without your presence, but you're a priority. 

You lean back over your chair, a mischievous little look on your face. "Do tell."

"You know that I can't do that." She's not amused by the attempt, either.

You straighten back to your usual height and brush it off in moments. "Unfun. I thought your loyalty to the Tsaritsa could be won over easily." 

She scowls. "Not by you."

"I see. You have standards after all."

She chooses to ignore your comment. Up until now, you have had quick-fire conversations, sometimes interrupted by a silence that drags on. This is no exception.

"Capitano truly believes you are dead." Arlecchino realises when she has caught your attention, and that time is now. She notices how your head tilts towards her ever so slightly, and your head raises. "For a time, he grieved, but it didn't last long. He has become fixated on the idea of revenge ever since he heard that Brighella's killer was running around boasting about their achievements with the authentic armour to support their claims."

Suddenly it makes some small amount of sense in your mind why they would want you to come back exactly. Capitano won't stay put forever. If he's stuck on vengeance, he won't rest until he exacts it. You weren't thinking about how much your stories would piss him off at the time.

When you spend an extended period of time silent and seemingly disinclined to answer, Arlecchino continues. "I want to show you to him."

You have subjected him to human emotions he's not equipped to deal with. Rightfully, you feel horrible like more of your failures are being wrenched from your corner and dumped out into the open for all to see. It doesn't matter that you're in Liyue, where nobody knows the two of you. You don't want them to see either. 

"He wouldn't want to see me." You don't think she really wanted to hear those words when you finally speak. Her expression gives it away. "He should enjoy his position without my interference. I've ruined his life enough."

"You've given him power and status, he should be grateful for that--"

"No. He shouldn't." You don't even wait for her to finish. She hasn't even realised it yet. Not the way you've been forced to. That power is a detriment, not a blessing. Why should he want that? "I thought that way as well, but now I…I don't think my choice was the correct one."

Arlecchino was not expecting to evoke your vulnerability, shallow as it may be for now. "What choice?"

"To bring him back from the abyss." 

From a purely objective perspective, taking in Capitano was the cause of everything. Arlecchino presumably thinks of it in the way you don't want her to, that you regret taking him in because he ultimately ruined everything for you, causing your world to fall apart. You don't. You wish you hadn't dragged him down with you.

Now Capitano still dealing with the consequences of your choices. He was perfectly satisfied where he was and would've remained that way had he not been caught up in your plans. It was your arrogance that made you think Capitano would prefer to come with you. At no point in your first interaction had he indicated he was displeased in his circumstances, only hostile because humans were so close to him. It is an understandable thing, considering that humans were a foreign concept to him and potentially posed a threat.

"Because he overtook you?" 

There it is.

Despite her words, she appears to have dropped her irritated expression and the impatience in her words and actions. You are finally speaking, and she won't lose that opportunity to an avoidable break in her temper.

"No. No, nothing like that." You try to find the words to explain it, even knowing she likely wouldn't understand it in her current position. You doubt she could ever comprehend it with how she treats her loyalty. "It's more like… Off the record, though I was cherished for many years, even I eventually became disposable. I have left Capitano in the hands of the person who caused that, and now I have damned him to the same fate."

Arlecchino is silent in thought, mulling over your words with great care. The tone of the conversation shifted right under your noses, and with it, so did her demeanour. She became relaxed in a way, though you imagine no less guarded than she always is. "I fail to see how your performance declined. In fact, you are more necessary now than you have ever been."

"I see." In your head, that means she's on your side to a degree. "So you believe that my termination was a mistake?"

"A grave error at best." Her words only confirm the way you thought of it. "Even if you had declined in performance, the people have begun to question more than ever, which sabotages the political landscape of Snezhnaya for those who care about it, the same people who stood idly by while you were ousted. Those who oppose the Fatui are pushing the notion that we must be weaker than we appear, because if even Brighella could die, then what does that say for the rest of us."

Though you wish you could say that concept was inconceivable, the idea that those fighting for reform would seize upon your demise as a means to spur change. It's not shocking that everyone else has been called into question, either. Though it is easy to push the role of frontrunner onto the Director, his duty is mainly administrative, as is the case with many high-ranking positions. His wrath is quick and brutal, and sparse. Dottore is too busy with his disgusting hobbies, and Columbina must remain in the light as a figure they can cling to. That leaves the position of Fourth as the one who is publicly the most violent and ruthless, which used to fall to you.

"I see. Is that why they want me to come back?" You don't expect an honest answer as you ask that question, half anticipating another play at your heartstrings.

"No." 

Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate.

"I'll only agree to return if Capitano is free to do as he wishes."

She scoffs, somewhat returning to her brash attitude. "Even if I could make that decision, we're well past the point where that's a possibility."

You know that she's correct in that.

Still, you can't stop the sight you let out. You knew the request was wonderful in theory but inconceivable in practice, but asking never hurt anyone. "Then what do you want from me? I take it that though I'm only a stagehand, my part in the theatre is not yet over."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Answer my question."

"Execution."

You pause at her answer.

"Execution?"

You're not even sure you heard her correctly. The execution of who? Brighella has already been put to death, and Capitano has barely warmed his seat among the Harbingers. Nobody left in this is worth killing, given the precarious nature of the Fatui's support in the aftermath of Brighella's murder. It was already unstable, and now things are just worse, with no better word to describe.

You doubt they made the decision lightly.

"Execution. Your execution for the murder of Brighella and crimes against the state."

Your nerves instantly spike again, and your guard is higher than ever. At any moment, you could need to draw your bow and fight her because even though you're unsure of how to treat this life, you're not ready to give it up. No foe has scared you before, and neither will the prospect of rebuilding from square one.

"I see, so you've come to extradite me."

"You read my intentions horribly. I'm impressed you managed to make it so far like that."

You furrow your brows in annoyance. "Then what?"

"The values of the Fatui no longer align with mine." The assertion draws your attention more than anything else. You have always been aware that she is unconcerned with the ideas of loyalty and honour, which you can't fault her for. Abiding by the code of honour the Tsaritsa instilled in you left you here.

You may be completely wrong, but she was so vague and doesn't seem to be waiting to say anything else. "Is this your way of telling me you're deserting the Fatui?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You so happen to be someone I like." 

You're startled by that as well. As far as you were aware, the decision to do nothing in the face of your dismissal was unanimous. You thought Capitano was your only remaining ally. Even if she's the lowest ranking, that is not indicative of power in an objective sense but of authority. In a sense, she is the new 'you' of the Harbingers, as she always was to a degree. 

Blame for the disorder is shifting in your absence to her.

"Because I cleaned the messes you now manage?"

"Because you aren't cowardly and fixated on politics but inhibited by them. You are a model of what is right." You can't say you follow what she's saying but allow her to continue. "Pulcinella and even Pierro refuse to travel abroad, always making excuses to shirk their jobs when faced with danger in order to comfortably remain in luxury. From the day I joined, you stood out to me in that way."

You raise an eyebrow at her, unimpressed by whatever she's trying to do right now. "Are you trying to flatter me into coming back?"

"I was telling the truth." She doesn't look impressed, either.

You feel a little embarrassed by that, suddenly feeling as though you really had responded quite rudely to an innocent statement. "Hearing a person idolise me is strange," you admit.

"It's not idolising." Her correction is sharp.

"Sounded close enough."

Silence again, as with the pauses scattered around the rest of your conversation. You aren't catapulting the topic into something of great interest or progressing, and neither is Arlecchino. Her lips press into a thin line trying to hide any cracks and stifle any emotion that slips through.

"I admire you."

You did not realise such a thing was possible, really.

"I thought you may have remembered the times we shared and think fondly of it, but perhaps not. We fought once- maybe twice- before. We drank together. Nothing else."

To end that statement with 'nothing else' as if to reduce every conversation, interaction, hour and experience to ashes is thoughtless at best. You didn't remember either instance in which Arlecchino believes you fought and still don't, though you try to now that you have come to find it apparently happened. If it did, the chances of you actually remembering is slim to none with how your memory is. It's not that you forget things quickly, but that minor events slip through the cracks in your frankly chock-full memory.

"I don't remember them, I'm sorry."

"I didn't expect you to."

Despite her words, there is a faint bittersweetness to it, the realisation you are insignificant to the person you aspire toward being like. Somewhere, even if she is aware it was always not only a possibility but highly likely, it still feels like a letdown, the fragile hope you might remember her strength. You only remember her drunken and all too enamoured by you to think properly. It is foolish of her to feel that way because you have battled many foes, and expecting you to remember all of them, let alone your underling, is unreasonable.

"You still haven't answered my question." Changing the topic, you take the opportunity to try to direct her back to what you asked in the first place. "Why are you really here?"

"The Jester gave me permission to pursue you, believing I would attempt to convince you to return to Snezhnaya after Columbina failed." As Arlecchino begins to explain, it slowly begins to make sense as the pieces fall neatly into place. "However, I have no interest in appeasing the wants of dignitaries who care only for their comfort."

You don't want that either. It's just a repeat of Capitano. "Do you understand how dangerous what you're doing is?" It's an attempt to remind her, but Arlecchino's unwavering expression tells you that reminders are unnecessary and unwanted.

"Yes, you were removed for less." She only confirms it for you. "Dottore is of the opinion that you will be forgotten, as are several others-" you imagine singling him out has something to do with them fighting all the time- "but that is simply impossible."

"Times change. You would be surprised how many things we thought would never be forgotten that humans have completely lost all knowledge of."

To her, that concept may be harder to swallow. Arlecchino has never seen the centuries roll by as you have and isn't as familiar with what does and does not remain. Even the greatest gods fell in the Archon War, and most humans cannot name any but the seven Archons. It is natural to forget and progress. The past is meant to become speculation and theory.

"I won't allow that." Abruptly she stops, though her sudden words startle you somewhat with how intense they are. That kind of illogical thought process is natural, maybe. You can't really say. "They could remember."

You shake your head in response, a firm denial before she's even begun to try and sell you on the idea. "There's no need for them to remember."

"There is every need."

"People don't glean the same admiration you do for someone they see as a tyrant."

"Then evoke fear!"

"Enough." You did not expect to have to put your foot down so harshly but do not hesitate to. "I won't entertain this."

Arlecchino grits her teeth at how easily you let go. Even though you are obviously not acclimated to civilian life, you refuse her offer that would allow you to return to Snezhnaya in a potential position of power. It is yet another failed step in the many she expected to have to take to convince you.

"Then let me hide you until some time passes."

"I'm not a precious treasure." She ignores how you roll your eyes at her, completely withdrawing how emotionally available you had managed to be. She can't let her anger take control of her again. "I can handle myself thank you very much." 

You sense she will not be giving up easily.

Even if you could convince her to leave you to your devices and that you would be fine, you doubt she would accept that. However, you have a feeling she knows you intend to disappear after this conversation. You have no idea why else she would pour her heart out in an attempt to make you easier to keep hold of. If you leave, you hold the advantage.

"I cannot continue to defend your honour while you stand by and allow them to do as they please with your name."

That doesn't worry you too much when you've been contributing to it since leaving. "Then give up. Let my name be tarnished."

Arlecchno's anger finally begins to boil over despite her efforts to contain it, rage spilling from the cracks in her composure. "You cannot have forgotten everything we did together."

"Of course I have not forgotten that." Your words are more fuel than suffocation to the growing fire.

"Then accept my help and stop being so stubborn."

"There's no need to."

She grabs you by your arm before you can step away, and you can feel a chill in her hand seep into your skin, likely a byproduct of her delusion. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't match well with how warm you are most of the time. "You would be willing to pretend you don't wish for normalcy to avoid confronting the Tsaritsa?"

"If I return to Snezhnaya, I will die." You lay it out as directly as possible, without an if, but or and. There's no room to debate this because the outcome will not change. Even if the two of you decide you're best friends, nobody else will see things that way, so it's pointless to pretend you don't see it as it has to be.

Arlecchino finally appears to consider your words more carefully, remaining silent again, but you do not interrupt her this time. You shift your focus to the icy hand still touching you and begin to channel what little you can of your vision without drawing your bow to warm her. You hope she doesn't notice it, not wanting her to find an ulterior motive in it.

"Then it is unavoidable."

You don't quite understand what she is saying until she removes her hand from you to place something on the table you shared.

Suspiciously, you eye the item as you wonder about the significance of abandoning it beyond the obvious, but you don't want to acknowledge that option. "You'll need your insignia if you wish to return." You needn't remind her of that, but it is a prompting statement.

Arlecchino shocks you with her next words.

"I'm remaining with you."

You stand in stunned silence for several seconds, replaying them over in your head. Remaining with you. She doesn't mean that, does she? This is another of her persuasion tactics, right? She cannot actually go through with this. "You're what?"

"I'm not going back to Snezhnaya."

That only confirms your fear, the chill of it rushing to the core of your being and lighting your nerves up with an icy cold. Maybe that's just the hand touching your cheek.

"You can't. You shouldn't. You should stay there."

She makes an odd face at you, half understanding of your plight and the other confused about why you care so much about what she does with her job. "In that place you curse yourself for leaving Capitano?"

"It's a comfortable position." You try to reason that way with her, pointing out the inarguable benefit.

"I don't care for comfort."

You scramble to find another reason, something else to make her give in and pick it back up. You have not gotten anything you attempted to get this night. Arlecchino didn't leave and is, in fact, intent on leaving the Fatui to continue that.

"I don't care to waste my time pandering to people who do not value what I provide for them, all the while relying on it."

That's not a reason you wish to say, but it is. It is a very real reason. You can see it in how the Fatui regards your circumstances that they have never found enough value in the mountain of work you took on. If they had, you wouldn't be having this conversation. She's right, you realise, she realised what you could not.

"Even if you do not allow it, I would be able to follow you." It's a strange thing to say, but maybe she was trying to convince you. Her arm falls back to her side.

You shake your head. "Humans tire."

"I won't be too slow."

It's different for her. Arlecchino doesn't hulk around a bulky suit of armour and a helmet to conceal her face. It is open and well-known. There will be places she can't ever travel to again. Her life will be this and nothing else, while yours will eventually become something else, as it was always supposed to. Even if you don't want to now, you will move on and find a new sense of self. She may never.

"There are grave consequences."

"I know."

"You may never know peace."

"I can live with that."

"You--" 

--will question everything you have ever known. That was what you were about to say. You again come to a realisation that clears things for you. It's different. Arlecchino has not spent her whole life dedicated to serving the Tsaritsa, only a few years at best. You spent centuries. It is no wonder that she could give it all up so easily. Arlecchino only had one foot in the door in the first place.

The realisation dawning on you this way is daunting.

"...Fine. I will accept that." Though you thought you would struggle more, you also understand that it is useless to do so.

"A good choice."

The act of conceding can bring about a sense of relief and comfort. Conceding feels nice, in a way. It is a respite from constantly controlling everything to be exactly as you wish. It allows you the freedom of simply acknowledging the reality of a situation and accept that it may not align with your ideals, even if you don't necessarily like it.

You don't want Arlecchino to accompany you for her sake, but accepting that she will not share your fate of being humiliated can bring about a sense of peace. She will live however she pleases, and that means she may not want for the same future you received. Having a free will allows her to leave.

Slowly, you try to recover from the shock of the situation. As you take in a deep, quivering breath, you begin to steady yourself and attemt to process all that is unfolding.

A single question comes to your mind, a relatively simple one but significant enough to matter greatly.

"What is your name?"

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#♡ — kae. #✎ — one of repetition. #✦ — scenarios. #✦ — angst. #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x female reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader

[angelshimaa]

━━ [ 𝟏𝟏:𝟑𝟒 ];; 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔

✧ cw :: gn!reader, angst, just a simple case of falling out of love 😔, this was rushed i’ll admit it

✧ a/n :: i think this is mediocre at best but hey, doesn't mean i won't post it <3

“are you even still in love with me?”

it's a question which stands to tear you apart if answered the way you fear. it's been sitting so heavy on your tongue for so long and you couldn’t bear the weight anymore. your eyes rip away from the floor, filled with tears when you focus them on him. the fear clogs your chest; you're terrified of how quickly he could send your heart plummeting down a cliff, and you wait for him to say something.

it's then, after the initial surprise at the question smooths over and kirishima hesitates that you get your answer. his lips part, readying themselves for words that don't come. it's almost as though you can see them get caught in his throat, refusing to be forced out as a lie. the days when the three magic words pooled out his lips like overflowing water— so very quick to silence you thinking otherwise— flood your memory, and instead of glowing with security, you watch the way his eyes soften with guilt, eyebrows raising slightly as if he's surprised at his lack of an answer.

he looks at you like he’s writing an apology, and he would hear your gut twist in pain if he listened carefully.

“i— i care about you, y/n. so much.” you stopped being his ‘pretty’ a long time ago, and you want to drive your foot into your side for taking this long to face it. “and i’m sorry i didn't tell you.”

i didn't want to hurt you.

you can fill in the next sentence for him, and there isn't much you can do but nod your head— the same head you want to throw into the wall— hot tears threatening to slip down your cheeks.

“i do still love you.” he means it to be a consolation, but it feels like he twists the knife in your fresh wound. “always will. y‘know that, right?”

i’m just not in love anymore.

you try to smile, but it falls off and gives way to your tears. eijirou will forever hate seeing you cry, and it makes his eyes glassy knowing it was because of him.

the way he reaches out to hold you is muscle memory, and you welcome the familiarity of his arms. you let yourself sink into him, coming home to a place that wasn't yours to have in the way you wanted anymore. his shirt catches your tears and how he smells overwhelms you with the need for him. you feel you need him to lie to you, to tell you he didn't want to cut the rope holding your relationship away from a cliff.

you hear him apologise over and over, tears in his own voice, and it pains you how there is nobody to pin the blame on. there was no choice in his feelings changing, nor is there choice in how yours make you ache.

every word eijirou tries to whisper is coated with good intentions and you know it, but you can't help wondering how much more you could've done to keep the place you held in his heart. you feel evicted, as though you've been pushed out and told to find another place.

you try and find comfort in knowing there's still a place for you, where all his friends reside, but you know you will always ache for the place you held for what felt like so long.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay

#— signed ⋆·ʚ⁺ #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha kirishima #kirishima angst #kirishima imagine #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha eijiro kirishima #mha fluff #eijirou fluff #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #mha imagines #mha fanfic #kirishima x gn!reader #kirishima eijiro x reader

[tangyangie]

I saw your post with Neito as brother and really like how you write! I wonder if you could do Karma x fem!reader headcanon where reader wants to have a large family (4 children or more)? How do you think he would react to this and how he would find himself as a husband and father in such a family?

» "how many?"

character: karma

description: you want kids. lots of them.

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end?? otherwise it's kinda sweet

style: headcanons and drabble

when karma first heard this, he was a little taken aback.

four?? kids??

but, after thinking about it for a while, i think he'd warm up to the idea.

a bunch of little mini menaces all annoying you.. yes, he could see it very clearly.

he's like their jungle gym, and the world is his. the kids climb all over him, and he would literally climb a volcano for them if need be.

but of course, he still will cater to your needs. you're craving something during your pregnancy? he's sprint to the grocery store to get it.

hell, he'd even try it with you, especially if it's something odd. (like pickles, cream cheese, and hot sauce)

but otherwise, he's going to be extremely careful. he makes sure that you're always comfortable and safe.

and of course, he'd teach them self defense at a young age. so don't be surprised when the elementary school calls to tell you that one of your kids fought somebody.

(the other kid is now forever scared of that child)

karma would totally pick them up from school with a smile on his face and take them out to eat ice cream.

he definitely buys everyone sunglasses and they all walk together and pretend to be spies.

in addition to climbing onto him, karma will hoist one of the kids up onto his shoulders. this has just become a natural thing.

karma is definitely scared at first, but the more times you are pregnant and have a kid, the more it becomes normal to him. he doesn't stress about it anymore.

all in all, i think he'd be pretty great as both a husband and a father.

here's a little bonus too:

you had never voiced your wish until now. you wanted quite a lot of kids... definitely, at least four.

you were telling your friends all about your desire to have a big family. you were giggling on the phone and imagining all the little babies, which resulted in you getting giddier by the second.

little did you know karma was listening in on this phone call of yours. he stood outside the door, honestly a little shocked, as you had never expressed your need for a family, let alone a larger one.

he thought for a moment. objectively, he didn't see much wrong with it. you want babies, so what? he couldn't lie and say they weren't adorable (when they weren't throwing up and pooping everywhere).

so, what was his hesitation?

he was worried how he would be as a father. as carefree as he seems, he knows how intense his personality can be. he doesn't want to scare his kid off as soon as they come out of you.

he is interrupted from his train of thought when he hears you bring your phone call to an end. he begins to walk away, thinking you hadn't noticed him.

"karma, i know you're there."

stopping in his tracks, he whirled around and made eye contact with you. perhaps he hadn't been as slick as he though he had.

sucking in his cheeks and taking a deep breath, he smiled at you.

"so... i heard you want kids."

you couldn't help but giggle at his forwardness. he walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge, turning his head to look at you.

he was always a good husband to you. maybe a little protective, but nothing too out of the ordinary. you crawled over to him and sprawled across his lap, leading him to gently pat your head.

"yes, that's true. i do want children."

"and how many, again, did you want?"

you hesitated a little bit, halfway to bursting out laughing.

"at least four."

he sighed and leaned back, pulling you into his chest.

"i'm.." he struggled to find the write way to say this. "i'm worried with how i would be a father. especially with four or more children."

"well, keep in mind it only starts with one." you reply, hoping to calm him, if only a little.

he smirked at your attempt at a joke, and rolled over to tackle you. he kissed you, and after a minute, slowly broke apart, and then smirked.

"well, we'd better get started then."

notes: aghagahhajdaka i'm so sorry this took such a long time

i did not expect my week to be so busy but it was and i'm really sorry 💔💔

but anyways tysm for the request!! mwah mwah to everyone and i hope you enjoyed!!

#karma #karma akabane #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #karma taylor swift #midnights #assassination classroom #ass class #kids #screaming in the void #and the void screams back #big family #hee hee #fluff #you're beautiful and ilysm #drink some fucking water #reader fic

[siramay-the-showgun-dragon]

DR3 episode 10 Makoto Vs Munakata BREAKDOWN

recently someone else made a post about Makoto's feral-ness during the showdown he had with Munakata in episode 10, of course it's quite cool, but i feel some may take it the wrong way so i wanna set the record strait and also gush about stuff i love in that scene that people may not notice so first lets lay some context

future arc episode 10: prior to this Munakata has gone on a downward spiral of insanity being a knight templar and that his way is the right way and that he must kill all despair meaning everyone he even practically killed Juzo and even before his full berserk mode he was highly aggressive and hostile towards Makoto not listening to his words at all and belittling him, in short at the time he was far from "a reasonable folk" and Makoto at the time just had his girlfriend friend Kyoko die in which Munakata challenged him to a once and for all face off, in which Makoto bears his will and steady's himself, though being open about the pain in his heart of her apparent passing and this is important as his heart is his most powerful weapon ok now lets start

so we start with the precursor as Makoto walks to Munakata and they think over their ideologies. and how Munakata wants to pull a "kill them to save them" with Makoto and everyone cause he thinks despair must be destroyed and you know its interesting cause then Makoto says

i remember it shaking me how steadfast and determined he was, to stop Munakata at all cost but i just want to point out something from here on out that i feel is very important to what we shall be seeing

Makoto Planed all this

not the before stuff i mean as soon as he walked in that room he knew what he would say and what he would do, he had his end goal in mind he even says so near the climax with the doors but even before that he planned what would happen prior it may not seem like it due to how he always seemed on the losing side and sure he probably didn't plan to get beaten up so much but he still knew what he would do and how he would do it, and people don't talk about that much but this all shows how Makoto is much more intelligent then we give him credit for, but I'll explain as we go on

so then we start Makoto steps on glass to alert Munakatas attention, you can tell it's on purposes as there's no indicator of uncertainty or fear on Makoto's part, it's to say "i am here lets end this" as when Munakata speaks makoto still stands strong not faltering or fumbling. then he says "i wont hesitate anymore" makoto will face munakata head on and do what he needs to but even then befor anything he trys to talk down munakata saying how killing eachother is pointless and that they can still work together

of course munakata doesn't listen but no one can say Makoto didn't try

and that's when the chase begins, but who's the hunter and who's the hunted? that's what one must ask

so though munakata attacks makoto runs out closing the door as it's revealed in the end makoto knows munakata can't open doors and uses this to his advantage drawing distance and gaining time to make his next move, as

open door which of course Munakata knows is a set up,

but jokes on him makoto knew he would know it's a set up, or not, it's a win win either way because if he didn't know

deep fried zealot on the barbie! but since he did know he survived which leads to the next phase of makotos plan. and if any of you are wondering why makoto would do such a thing

he was always feral! he just didn't have much chance to act on it because he's polite and sees the good in people, but even he has his limits, so you best start appreciating the kindness Makoto shows in you when he does, well on to phase 2!

cause munakata survives with his sword and shoots makoto with tengans weapon which hurts of course so makoto runs off as his blood leads munakata exactly where makoto wants him to be he even says so

of course makoto knows about the fire extinguisher and he dosent just mean that but I'll bring that up in a second as we see makoto look around waiting for munakata who comes in soon after and makoto is hidden now holding the fire extinguisher to bop munakata on the head! which fails, he also throws it but that fails, now one ask if this could kill munakata but from my research it seems it would only hurt maybe konk him out as for something to hit your head and kill you it must be about 24 kg (52 lbs). for it to be lethal from arm length and the average fire extinguisher is around 5-10 pounds and as much as i like to believe makoto is this

hes more likely this

so that fire extinguisher is more then defiantly not killing just gonna sting maybe knock him unconscious which would be a win, but he failed but dont worry! this leads the phase 3! which brings up how before he threw it he planed on using it for its intended purpose, (which is a important part of phase 3)

because though it gets thrown away and jammed in the wall it BLOWS UP HITTING MUNAKATA IN THE BACK AND MAKEING A SMOKE SCREEN EVERYWHERE! which disorients and distracts munakata for makotos phase 3!

JUMP HIM AND PUSH HIM IN THE HOLE!

which leads me to point out something genius The dud fire extinguisher? It was the same one that Asahina tried to use to cover their escape in episode 2. Likewise, the hole in the floor is the one Great Gozu smashed for an escape route in the same episode. In "fighting" Munakata, Makoto made use of observation, deductive reasoning, and a pretty good memory; skills that he'd honed in his own Killing Game, which Munakata had earlier derided for being too orderly compared to fighting in the real world.

which of course leads to the kicker as they are both down the hole, munakata apears to have makoto right where he wants him right there in on a silver platter for a kill, but on the contrairy, makoto has munakata right where he wants him as makoto reveals he knows munakats forbidden action, and thus makeing it so munakata cant kill him and has to listen. moral of the story

munakatas like "your plan faild i am not dead" makoto:

this of course all leads to the epic confrontation scene

it was with empathizing and saying these words to munakata did he finally pierce his heart and get munakata to back down...

so much for useless platitudes ay munakata?

#danganronpa #dangnaronpa #makoto naegi #danganronpa 3 #kyosuke munakata #analysis

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 14 Pt. 2

We're in the home stretch... last stream of consciousness post! The story ends with these last four chapters...

Oh. Ok. Immediately hitting me with this on the first page. "What's there left to see?" "Let's see the world together." "I wanted to see tomorrow with him." Just another way of showing us that Vash is not driven to survive this fight anymore.

!!! The lights again! He heard Meryl!!! AGHHHHH

I'm actually a little unsure of who is saying the "hey, come on, Vash the Stampede" lines. I'm assuming he's saying this to himself. I don't think anyone else makes sense.

The ambiguity of this situation is so fascinating, and it all comes from the way we almost never see the Plants' true perspectives. We know, at least, that they talk amongst themselves. Before the battle began, the ones who were not fused were concerned and worried over the outcome, and what the right decision is. Knives claims here that they were all united in their hatred of humans over the abuse they suffered, but we also see these dreams that Knives sees also of a mix of human cruelty and kindness - the same thing they transfer to the humans when the feathers start falling. They also all know and seem to like Vash - honestly, I'm of the mind that the Plants feel somewhat neutral about humans overall, and are primarily concerned with not hurting their own kind - which includes both Knives and Vash. Unfortunately, they have very little control or free will in this situation. There are two possibilities for the emotions of the fused entity here:

Knives, having walled himself from truly fusing so he can still direct it and maintain his sense of self, is simply feeling his own hatred, intensified by the power boost from the rest of the Plants - and Vash's interference is something he feels due to having a stronger connection with him specifically.

The Plants, having a less defined sense of self in general, feel whatever the dominant consciousness feels - so all the fused Plants really do feel hatred for humanity. When Vash connects though, they feel his grief and sorrow, as he is the one with the stronger Gate.

I think the second option makes more sense - and this kind of makes this whole situation even more tragic for the Plants... it makes it even harder to glean what they actually want. (Though the situation could be drastically improved if they were recognized as conscious entities - that at least would be a start.)

I like that we still, even in the final act, see Vash allowed to be a bit afraid and hesitant - he definitely knows this is going to be overwhelming and probably going to hurt a lot. With him being as exhausted and prepared to die as he is, he could've just been written as utterly indifferent to the pain but no, even with all that, he's still got a bit of a preservation instinct. It's very real actually.

"I felt that! Where are you?!" "Don't touch me!" <- ...brothers...

Oh it's actually breaking apart... but um. What happens to the Plants...? :(

"I beg of you... once again... grant me that ticket." 😭

MERYL YOU ARE THE STRONGEST PERSON IN THIS MANGA I LOVE YOU FOREVER

YES!

Also this means they're all going to see Vash too, doesn't it?

WAIT. HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE PLANTS. They call him Red Brother? That is so cute... And they are convinced to give love and peace a try because Vash knows and loves both of them... humans and Plants...

(I actually am now thinking, because of the feather we saw on Vash before, that he wasn't talking to himself but that was in fact the Plants urging him to get up... I wasn't aware they could use speech or just images/emotions, so I wasn't sure.)

:') (I was so scared for them guys. But this is interesting - can progress be made so they don't have to live in the lightbulbs? That would be a good step towards instating more autonomy for them.)

AAAAAAAAAAA :''')

"But I will not yield. Our past and our future will not allow it." <-Sunk cost fallacy again. I wonder just how much of the conflict in this series are the characters feeling unable to change simply because they've "come this far". Might be interesting to go back and look on a re-read.

Knives... :(

"I was the one who broke away." 🫠

That's what she told him??? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

IN COMES CHRONICA WITH A STEEL CHAIR

Vash saved him!!!

Oh. The wings... they each only have one... because they shouldn't have been separate like that...

Help girl I am. On the floor. Crying.

"Oh and welcome to No Man's Land." Livio you are so funny

WHAT WAS THE REASON. I AM ALREADY CRYING STOOOOP

Love the return of Vash's old wanted poster. Lol.

Hair down Vash with dark hair :)

Knives... I find it so interesting again that Knives immediately tries to barter Vash as necessary to these people so that he'll save him. But the doctor was actually convinced by the sight of Vash's injuries and the desperation in Knives' voice. It's so minor but it's still such good characterization and further proof that the ideal of kindness is present in ordinary people.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The symbolism of him creating an apple tree as a gesture of what is both thanks and trust... but Knives, ffs, why would you just disappear on your brother without telling him. UGH. He used the last of his power, didn't he. Healed Vash's injury as much as he could then created the tree. Is he dead, or did he just lose corporeality or something? I'm honestly not sure. Either way, Vash lost his brother too after they just got each other back.

Begging him to start singing his murder song again

It was at this moment he knew. He fucked up.

Aww! They are going to be such a good team now that Vash is going to hopefully stop running off. DUDE.

HJHSBJHCBZJHVSBJV WHAT

I did not get the song I was expecting, but the fact that these two apparently play a song about Vash to signal the start of their broadcast is so funny. What is happening.

OMG Sheryl and Lina!!! Badwick and his family! Brilliant Dynamites Neon!

LIVIO!!! And the kids and Miss Melanie... at Wolfwood's grave... (Livio I love your new look.)

:')

"The same song of humanity still sang."

What a beautiful end to this story... thank you everyone in the book club (and to Rev for organizing it!); I had so much fun with this. I can't wait to go through the tag some more and go back through everyone's posts again - I fell behind a few times so I want to do a re-read of everyone's analyses and thoughts. I'll have a few more posts probably, but for now... thanks for what was a really fun experience everyone! I think this manga's story and characters will stay with me a long while.

#storyrambles #trigun #trimax #trigunbookclub #until the next time... if we do book club 2.0 i'll definitely be there :)

[princess-of-the-corner]

Ok amnesia!Dabi.

What is the dynamic between Himiko and Enji, and Himiko and Rei? Because I can definitely see Himiko both liking Enji and being afraid of him. She likes him because he's allowing her to stay with Dabi during his and her recovery. But I can see her being afraid of Enji a little due to her own trauma with parental figures and hearing about the Touya clusterfuck.

OKAY SO

The weird thing about Enji is that, when he's not projecting his trauma, he's actually decent with kids.

Like don't get me wrong there's some stuff he'd needed to have worked out in the long run even without the 'oh god if I fuck up everyone's dead' trauma but on the whole there's a decent ability for that. Especially now because he has worked that shit out.

(Which like. Remember: in this Au he's not /just/ figuring shit out. He's had 3-4 years to work on his shit)

But yeah Himiko is. She's hesitant. Both because of her experiences with her own parents, but because she's seen Dabi's various trauma responses and now knows where that originates. And while Enji /says/ he's gotten better and isn't Like That™ anymore, who would openly say 'yeah I'm going to be An Asshole™ to you'?

So it takes time. Especially because there's so much to dance around. Her being in the family or not, the legal stuff, the family getting Toya back and trying to reconnect, Dabi having enough memory triggered to still flinch at things but things seeming to be 'safe', so on and so forth.

It does take her a while to really trust him, but I think his reaction to her parents does give a lot of that trust. Enji saying that, even at his worst, he would have been furious at how they treated her, does mean a lot.

As for Rei!

Himiko and Rei don't interact for a while. Because Rei is still in the hospital and while Himiko is staying with the family she doesn't realize that's going to be permanent. So when the rest of the family visits Rei in the hospital, even if they do invite her along, it feels like intruding.

So a lot of what they hear about each other is from the rest of the family before properly meeting each other.

And it's kinda weird but they can actually relate A Lot™. Like this will become more clear when I post the next chapter of Road to Hell, but let's just say that Rei's parents and Himiko's parents would get along fantastically. Which is of course BAD for them. But they're both a 'girl' who was told to shut down anything her parents saw as deviant behavior so she could be a Perfect Little Debutante and find a Good Man to be a trophy wife to, who both eventually snapped and harmed someone they cared about.

Though it is a while before Himiko realizes this, but Rei very much understands and does get what she needs and knows exactly how to help her deprogram that trauma.

Himiko is. Kinda overwhelmed when she does realize that there is someone out there who understands her. While it's not exactly the same because obvs Rei's snapping wasn't driven by something like the need to consume blood, it's still very relatable.

#amnesia!dabi

[ygodmyy20]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @toastytoaster22 (finally getting to this I started this and then life happened haha)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

8 (i just got back into writing in July 2023!)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 66,608 (it will probably double as I am deep into a long fic right now)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I used to write Puzzleshipping YGO but I’m all in on Mob psycho 100 now.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Just Breathe

Black Sweatshirt (yeaaaaah rising!)

Emotional explosion (surprised this one I thought got the least amount of reads this was my very first mp100 fic)

Float (I love how much this resonated with people)

Blackhole

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! It’s something I take very seriously. No judgement if someone doesn’t respond to my comment on fics! But for me it’s important to respond.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ah. Hm. Blackhole I guess? The ending isn’t angst though it’s just a more intense fic.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think Float is very happy. It makes me smile every time I read it. Also the ending of Cobalt makes me so good. I want to rewrite Cobalt though its missing something. I posted it too soon.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Back in my YGO days I got some but I just ignored it. Usually they were just about me not finishing a fic so….yeah I get it heh

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. I’m an adult. I can write and enjoy smut.

But in all seriousness I do and I encourage anyone who is hesitant to write about sex, to just do it for yourself if you ever want to. You never have to post it, you can just write what you want and delete it, or keep it for yourself. Or never write about sex at all. I'll just say, getting back into this part of myself after not writing it for years has been so beneficial for my mental health. It helps me process and work through things. And writing gives me the opportunity to do that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Well not right now, but I do know a lot about a certain mp100xOPM AU by @sodasexual and may or may not write something in that verse one day. Already drawing fanart for it so.... fanfics are likely gonna happen one day!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Uhhhh not that I….know of? (gosh I hope none have...)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sorta co-wrote something recently that was just for fun. Also @emeraldoodles and I def co-wrote a dragonshipping fic I think when we were in high school? Dunno if I ever posted it tho I can't remember

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hm. Puzzleshipping is my origin story. But something about Terumob really hits me in a place that I can’t describe. I just adore them.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmmm I have a couple one-shots I wanna write and I may not write them all.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I love writing POV descriptions of emotions. And I like to hope I’m good at it. Blackhole is this. It’s a mess of words and descriptions that I can just chew on and I love writing it. I think my recent Terumob oneshots kinda get into that space too. I like to hope that is a strength. But yeah it seems to resonate with people so I think it’s a strength?

I also think dialogue has always come easy to me. I feel like it’s the easiest thing for me to write and I hope it is realistic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ah.... I am terrible with consistency. I forget things and sometimes run off down paths. I also repeat myself a lot and like to describe every movement a character makes which can bog down scenes.

I have so written myself into a corner and had to weasel my way out of it hahaha This is why I am trying to talk about my stories more to friends so I DON'T do that again.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I did this a bit but I don’t anymore. It’s just too much mental work for me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Yugioh.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I think Black Sweatshirt, my current ageswap fic, will be my fav. It’s the most expansive writing I have done probably ever in my life. There are multiple plot lines, scenes that have already made me cry, and an ending that I just cannot wait to share with the world. I hope others enjoy it as much as I do, and I can deliver on this story.

The other one is a series called Safe Space which is a series of one-off stories touching on different emotions Shigeo has to process post-canon. Exploring the gray areas of forgiveness, confessions, grudges, anger, and love. I think I will be writing that on the side as I do other things but I love it to pieces. It means a lot to me and i hope to one day share it.

I'm always nervous to tag others so if you see this, feel free to do it!!

#fic questions #this was fun to do~

[earlgreytea68]

I'm still thinking about the peterick GTA moment from tokyo bc I think it's also part of the healing tour thing. You've mentioned this but in previous interviews and though out the tour it seems like pete is the one holding back and patrick is reaching out more and that reassurance seems to be working based on the evolution of pete's little hip dance in saturday. For whatever reason (left over feelings from hiatus, fear of pushing boundaries, etc) pete seemed hesitant and pre-hiatus it was a lot of pete doing things to a exasperated patrick so it's nice to see patrick not only leaning into the closeness but often initiating it. I also think that was less for the fans and a little more for them like they didn't have to do the full lean in they could've just played to each other (like they have been) but I think patrick is going rogue a bit and is like you know what fuck it which good for him I'm excited to see if this is a new pattern or a one off

Honestly who among us is not still thinking about the peterick GTA moment from tokyo? Sometimes I'm driving my car and I'm stopped at a red light and I just find myself thinking about it.

It's true that pre-hiatus Pete always seemed to be touching Patrick and it always seemed to be teasing, joking, sarcastic. Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of best friends. Ha-ha-ha hilarious. I think post-hiatus Pete was hesitant because that didn't seem right anymore, but he wasn't sure what did seem right. And I'm really enjoying Patrick just being like, "Whatever, you're thinking too much." You're right that they didn't have to do anything like that. They have to do the GTA moment, I do think they feel slightly obligated, I don't think they'd let the fans down -- but it's clear they don't really do those moments entirely for the fans and they didn't have to do that moment like that for the fans. We've all gotten used to the GTA moments we've had. That really was Patrick --

"Going rogue." Which is the best description ever. Patrick has been a LOOSE CANNON. His medleys have been utter devastation and when we find out he chose a Magic 8 ball song it's PAVLOVE????? WHAT????? Like, FOR REAL, Patrick has gone majorly rogue and honestly YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT HE'S GOING TO DO NEXT. Maybe Riff with Patrick was established so Pete could have moment to gauge whether Patrick was about to go completely off the rails somehow in some way Pete couldn't even imagine lol

#peterick #fall out boy #fob

[dragonsarecats]

[ Previous anon ]

 I'M SORRY FOR WORDING IT LIKE THAT I played the Golden Deers, some of my favorite queer ship are with Deers and some of my favorite character are among the deers! My favorite deer ship is probably Leonie x Lysithea ( She litteraly say Leonie would make an incredible partner! Why do their support stop at B again?? ) and my otp is Hilda x Edelgard ( do not judge me I have REASONS ). And also, one of my favorite queer headcanon is trans aro-ace Claude! So I genuinely love the Deers as queers!

However, for me the deer and the diverse queer content around them is heavily a fandom thing. When I say the deer are "too straight for me", I meant it for the game directly. Like you have the Black Eagles where not only litteraly every characters is canon queer/has heavily subtext but has also its whole narrative drenched in queer metaphor! You have the Blue Lions where, while there's less "canon queer", you litteraly cannot say most of its members are straight with how heavy the subtext that's barely even subtext anymore is: there's 0 straight explanation for Felix crying more at Dimitri death than his wife, or him dying the same day as Sylvain because they can't live without each other.

But for the Deers... You have Hilda/Marianne and Claude/Lorenz as the most popular one but while their relationship are so fascinating, when you only look only at the game, they feel too platonic? Especially compared to a Dedue/Dimitri ( like a family in private. took up a post at his grave for the most of his days. BURIED BESIDE EACHOTHER ) or a Ferdinand/Hubert ( rare A+ support, with blushing, their own little surname, Ferdinand/Edelgard support changing just to mention Ferdinand drinking coffee ). Otherwise you have Leonie/Lysithea which stop at B. You have Raphael/Ignatz where they decided to just push the relationship to make their ending all about Ignatz with his sister.

Like really, the Deers manage to have less in game queer moment than the Church of Seiros, Rhea aside, of all things! We were so robbed! The rainbow house deserve better. I'm a lesbian and after all my playthrough Verdant Winds was my only route where I had to marry a man, all I wanted was a lavender wedding with Claude while I have a passionate romance with Leonie :(

To sum up: Lysithea and Leonie should kiss, Intelligent Systems are fucking cowards 

For the fandom I'll have to disagree, I think the Deers have a lot a queer content and it's amazing :] My only thing might be how Claude has become the first character you think of when talking about bi fe3h character which is kinda telling how wlw are dismissed in the general fandom, but its better than some people insisting he's totally straigh so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

( Also I big agree on Hilda support being gem, she's such a great character and one that's much more complex than given credit for!! )

Oh and I think I disagree with Deers being the more family found-esq ( saying that bc it's a great subject of I discussion and I want to hear more about your opinion on the matter )

The Lions is the family where they all stick together through thick and thin, following Dimitri to hell and back, but their relationship are complexe and not always healthy ( mostly at the beginning with like Dimitri & Felix or Ingrid & Sylvain ).

The Eagles are the found family where a lot of them bitch about each other at first but they end up with deep relationship where they take care for each other and stand together against the world, even sticking together during the time skip ( also because they kinda all killed each other dad ).

The Deers are for me more like an actual close group of friend: their life are not going to revolve around each other like it does with the other houses, but they won't hesitate to come for that 5 years reunion to see the other. It's kinda like you say they're so normal in a good way! They tease each other but they don't hate each other in the way of a Dimitri/Felix, a Caspar/Petra, a Ferdinand/Hubert ( except for Lorenz but like, it's Lorenz ). They won't kill the other dad, but they'll sure as hell support each other like Lorenz and Ignatz or Marianne and Raphael. They might not start a revolution together but they will listen to the other even when it’s total heresy ( Leonie & Claude, such an incredible support :’) ) and help the other to reach their goal… I do agree with you it’s linked to not knowing each other before, but on that, isn’t knowing each other before more of a Lion thing than not knowing being a Deer thing? I don’t know, the BE are kind of a middle ground.

( Sorry for my ramblings- It's so fun talking about the deers )

AA anon thank you for the long ask!! Okay I'm gonna take this point by point under the readmore!

"My favorite deer ship s probably Leonie x Lysithea ( She litteraly say Leonie would make an incredible partner! Why do their support stop at B again?? )"

INCREDIBLY fair and based of you, lol, I read Lysithea as gay and it's 100% because of the support conversations she has with Leonie and Hilda (which to me implies an ADORABLE crush--Lysithea seems to genuinely respect and admire Hilda which is not something you'd expect from like, a surface level reading of their characters).

I'm gonna admit my own bias here in terms of canon text endings--my favorite Lysithea ending is her paired ending with Lorenz. It really reads like a queer platonic relationship to me--I don't really get romantic vibes from either of them (gay as they are) towards each other, but the commitment and care they have for each other genuinely warms my heart. Especially the fact that like, Lorenz is SO determined to ensure Lysithea takes care of herself and the ending doesn't really imply that she dies young (only that her health is delicate/poor) in comparison to others, and she and her family get to live the quiet life they want. Of course, as an aro/ace disabled person, I think it probably hits differently for me than people who aren't just because of the fact that after the most recent time I saw their support chain/got their ending I teared up a bit (and also why I'm now adoring your trans-aro-ace Claude).

ANYWAYS, I agree IS are cowards and that's why Edelgard is the only Lord who can romance both male/female Byleth.

"For the fandom I'll have to disagree, I think the Deers have a lot a queer content and it's amazing :]"

I probably didn't word what I meant completely lol correctly-- it's not that the Deer don't have a lot of queer content, it's just that overall, they have less content in general made for them then the Black Eagles and Blue Lions.

I do ALSO love so much of the queer content made for the Deers! The Three Houses fandom is amazing.

"My only thing might be how Claude has become the first character you think of when talking about bi fe3h character which is kinda telling how wlw are dismissed in the general fandom, but its better than some people insisting he's totally straight so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

Okay, so I was kind of dancing around saying this to your last ask but you hit the nail on the head lol. I genuinely think the reason why the Deer might come across as less queer is because the "main ship" for them, so to speak, is the WLW pairing Hilda/Marianne.

Ironically when I think about bi fe3h characters my first thought is consistently Lindhardt?

"Oh and I think I disagree with Deers being the more family found-esq ( saying that bc it's a great subject of I discussion and I want to hear more about your opinion on the matter )

The Lions is the family where they all stick together through thick and thin, following Dimitri to hell and back, but their relationship are complexe and not always healthy ( mostly at the beginning with like Dimitri & Felix or Ingrid & Sylvain ).

The Eagles are the found family where a lot of them bitch about each other at first but they end up with deep relationship where they take care for each other and stand together against the world, even sticking together during the time skip ( also because they kinda all killed each other dad )."

Okay so I definitely agree with you that they're all found family, explicitly in the text lol. What I meant in my statement that they're the most found-family-esq is that you get to see the development of ALL their relationships and becoming that family together on screen.

The Lions (a mess, and I love them), are pretty heavily involved with each other at the beginning of the game. A lot of the intrigue with them is the fact that they all have backstory stuff going on with each other (save for Ashe, I think, but we kill his dad on screen so). Mercedes and Annette went to Sorcery School together, Felix/Sylvain/Dimitri/Ingrid are all childhood friends with intense complications, and the trauma and deliberate kindness that brought together Dimitri and Dedue makes me emotional.

Similarly to them, the Black Eagles all have a history with each other (save for Dorothea) as well. There's the insane and amazing devotion between Edelgard and Hubert, Lindhardt and Caspar's childhood friendship, the onesided rivalry going on between Ferdinand and Edelgard since they were kids and Hubert's judgement of Ferdinand for it. Petra and Bernadetta, technically don't have pre-established relationships with the others, but in ways that are deliberately intense. Petra is blatantly a political hostage in the Academy Era in a way that really informs her relationship with Edelgard and Hubert even before they get to know her. Additionally Bernadetta's isolation creates a kind of infamy between her and the other nobles.

The Golden Deer, on the other hand, don't really have as many intense bonds going in (and thus, in my opinion, makes it easier for Byleth to integrate amongst them as an eventual equal). There's the preestablished dynamic of Lorenz being suspicious of and wanting to best Claude, but it's a recently developed dynamic, as Claude only appeared a year ago. This would be a bigger personal issue if he was leading a house like the Blue Lions or the Black Eagles (noble heavy as they are), but it's barely an issue in the Deer and not just because of the commoners. Hilda, Lorenz, Lysithea, and Marianne are not close. In all his supports with the three of them, Lorenz is the one reaching out because of his belief that their time in the Academy should be used to form better and closer connections with other nobles. There is nothing to imply that there was any substance to their pre-existing relationships. The only two who have anything to their relationship before the game starts, are Raph and Iganatz, who haven't spoken in years, mostly due to guilt on Ignatz's behalf for what happened to Raphael's family.

So as a result, you get to see the bonds being formed and deepened with the Golden Deer from scrap. Obviously some development happens off screen during the time skip, but other than that the Deer's found family forms and develops completely on screen, which is why I think it's the most found family-esq of the three.

In fact, it's a huge part of Claude's story. It's something you don't really notice in his route, but it's really clear when you don't pick him. While Edelgard and Dimitri kind of can't function and literally can't without Byleth's support, Claude has probably the highest survivability rate when you don't choose him of any character save technically Marianne. He survives the Blue Lions route, the Black Eagles route (if you spare him), and is implied to have survived the Silver Snow route. When he doesn't have Byleth, he still survives, so not choosing him isn't as dramatic. But it's easy to see that without Byleth as a teacher, he doesn't open up enough to the Deer. Dimitri and Edelgard have assured loyalty from their houses (even Ferdie and Felix) becuase of these pre-established relationships and positions, but Claude has to earn it. That's why Hilda, despite being his vassal, is recruit-able so long as you don't choose Black Eagles (the only route where he can die). Without Byleth, although the Deer do grow close, they don't do it as quick or as closely as they do with the Professor. Claude is a character who's never been able to truly rely on others, even if they care about him, and being able to rely on Byleth allows him to open up and rely on the Deer and truly trust them. I mean, Claude's two most relied upon people in the Deer (as seen in 3Hopes when he goes against Dimitri) are Hilda and Lorenz. I don't think people talk enough about how insane it is that Claude trusts Hilda Goneril with his life, considering he's an Alymran prince.

That's also why I think the Deer are so good for Byleth. I don't think any of the other route's are bad for Byleth at all, but I think the deer provide something to Byleth that neither the Lions or the Eagles can bring to her: a single of equivalency. Byleth is only slightly older than her students in the Academy Era and is in fact younger than most of them in the War Era, and yet it's only really with the Deer that she feels like she's amongst peers (whether it be because of the commoner/noble ratio or that she's as much of a stranger to them as they are to each other.) I mean, Claude is literally the only character who doesn't call refer to her by her Profession.

Anyways, TLDR: I think they're the most found family because a huge part of the Golden Deer route is them getting to know and love each other from scratch, and being a found family is a much bigger thematic aspect for them then it is for the other two houses.

"However, for me the deer and the diverse queer content around them is heavily a fandom thing. When I say the deer are "too straight for me", I meant it for the game directly. Like you have the Black Eagles where not only litteraly every characters is canon queer/has heavily subtext but has also its whole narrative drenched in queer metaphor! You have the Blue Lions where, while there's less "canon queer", you litteraly cannot say most of its members are straight with how heavy the subtext that's barely even subtext anymore is: there's 0 straight explanation for Felix crying more at Dimitri death than his wife, or him dying the same day as Sylvain because they can't live without each other."

"But for the Deers… You have Hilda/Marianne and Claude/Lorenz as the most popular one but while their relationship are so fascinating, when you only look only at the game, they feel too platonic? Especially compared to a Dedue/Dimitri ( like a family in private. took up a post at his grave for the most of his days. BURIED BESIDE EACHOTHER ) or a Ferdinand/Hubert ( rare A+ support, with blushing, their own little surname, Ferdinand/Edelgard support changing just to mention Ferdinand drinking coffee ). Otherwise you have Leonie/Lysithea which stop at B. You have Raphael/Ignatz where they decided to just push the relationship to make their ending all about Ignatz with his sister."

Okay, so I definitely agree with you that those things are canon queer and subtext, and that it's a shame they don't push the Raphael/Ignatz stuff and focus on Ignatz and Raph's sister (which is admittedly adorable to me).

Again, I'm aro/ace, so for me, queerness doesn't necessarily require romance as a prerequisite? Which is why I like Lorenz and Lysithea's ending, lol.

Hilda/Marianne in no way reads platonic to me, so I really disagree with you there. Hilda treats Marianne completely differently to how she treats everyone else in game. Their support chain is focused on how Hilda, who manipulates her way out of doing anything she doesn't want to, chooses to consistently over and over again do things for Marianne that she can't, and refuses to let Marianne feel bad over it. She leverages this into Marianne buying her pastries and them having a lunch date together. Their A support consists of Marianne questioning their regular dynamic of doing this and Hilda reassuring that she enjoys it so much she'd feel odd if it changed. They compliment each other to the point where Hilda starts to get a little flustered, and Hilda's even able to poke fun a little at Marianne and get Marianne to poke fun at her back. Marianne laughs at Hilda, and Hilda textually thinks it's adorable and can't even get mad at it because it's so cute. Marianne seems so genuinely happy and herself (even in negative ways!) with Hilda, and can rely on her in a way that doesn't make her feel inadequate or a burden.

I can understand as being able to view Claude/Lorenz as platonic, especially since I will never diverge from my Claude/Byleth endings, but I think they can also still be read pretty textually clear and potentially romantic. Part of this is Lorenz, who just, is very clearly gay to me? But again, part of this is the fact that a huge part of the Lorenz/Claude dynamic is them being viewed textually as equals, which is something that will and can never happen with Edelgard/Dimitri and their rival characters. Their support chain is all about getting to know and respect each other as they grow to care for one another, and while it isn't explicitly as romantic as Marianne/Hilda, I think their paired ending really speaks a lot for itself, in that Claude trusts Lorenz to be Fodlan's face of diplomacy towards Almyra. He trusts Lorenz to help him achieve his dream in the most direct way possible, something I think you can absolutely compare to his relationship with Byleth in their S-Support. Additionally about their support chain, their A-support really is about affirming to the player how close they've become, how fond they are of each other, and how neither of them can imagine the future of Fodlan without the other one in it. While there isn't a lot of direct text between Claude/Lorenz, I think there is absolutely enough subtext that you could read them romantically, especially from Lorenz's POV. The hard thing with this game is that each character needs to be able to be paired with Byleth, so they can never be textually obviously/blatantly in love with another character save for Byleth until their paired ending, and I think that absolutely holds doubly true for Lord characters, which is why I think Claude/Lorenz relies more on subtext.

I do think it's a shame that Lysithea doesn't have any A supports with women in her own house. Leonie like you mentioned is an adorable one, and I think Lysithea has a huge crush on Hilda in the ones with her, and there is definite potential in the one she has with Marianne (which in my opinion is a kinder, more gentle version of her supports with Ignatz).

I also think there's a few other support chains where there is a queer romance blossoming, they just don't get the chance to have an ending. A big one for me, personally, that I think deserved more, is Ignatz and Lorenz. I also think Leonie and Marianne's support chain was very cute, and deserved an A.

This is kind of what I was saying when I answered your last ask, I think, wherein the Deer have queer romance, but because the don't have a big blow up mlm ship (Claude is more often shipped with Dimitri + a lot of people aren't as fond of Lorenz as I think they should be lol), they kind of get sidelined as their big queer ship is WLW. And unfortunately in most fandoms, wlw ships are rarely as popular or have as much pushing force.

And also, I think, that the deer are queer without having as much romance. Their romantic pairings are far less set in store then the other two houses, I think, and part of that is because a lot of their endings read really queer platonic to me. Plus, a lot of the heavy romance lifting in the explicit text for a lot of supports tends to happen in the A/A+ region, and a several of the wlw/mlm golden deer pairings only go to B, which I think is a shame and forces them to rely more on subtext.

Additionally, because they're not the revolutionary or chivalry aligned House, a lot of their endings aren't written as...dramatically? Like I adore Felix/Sylvain to death (I have a print of them hanging next to my Claude one lol), but their childhood promise is very much the product of living in Faergus, similarly to how Hubert and Ferdinand's relationship is defined by them living in the Empire. I think because the Alliance politics are far less dramatic (or are far more dramatic in a visibly different way) the subtext for Claude and Lorenz's Romeo/Juliet for politics thing doesn't come across as huge as two characters who promised to die with each other as kids and keep it (insane I love them).

That's why in my original post I talk about loving how normal the Deer are, and I think ultimately a part of that comes from their setting: the Alliance. In my first play through, I specifically chose having my loyalties lie (in the initial meeting with the Lords) with the Alliance, because to me, someone who had no real context for the game, the Alliance was the closest thing to a democracy from what little we'd hard of each nation. Politics informs almost every aspect of the Golden Deer; sure it's played for angst and importance in the other two routes (Duscur/Sylvain's Crest Complex/Felix's problem with the chivalry system for the Blue Lions--with the latter two never being things that are textually resolved in the Kingdom's government--and Enbarr/those who Slither in the Dark for the Black Eagles), but Claude actually has to balance what other lords want in the War phase, and it's his ability to be so good at politicking that enables the Alliance to consistently remain neutral in the war. So a lot of the subtext stuff comes to fruition through the realm of politics in a way it doesn't entirely through the other two, if that makes sense. It's a huge gesture of love that Claude can trust Lorenz with his dream.

"The Deers are for me more like an actual close group of friend: their life are not going to revolve around each other like it does with the other houses, but they won't hesitate to come for that 5 years reunion to see the other. It's kinda like you say they're so normal in a good way! They tease each other but they don't hate each other in the way of a Dimitri/Felix, a Caspar/Petra, a Ferdinand/Hubert ( except for Lorenz but like, it's Lorenz ). They won't kill the other dad, but they'll sure as hell support each other like Lorenz and Ignatz or Marianne and Raphael. They might not start a revolution together but they will listen to the other even when it’s total heresy ( Leonie & Claude, such an incredible support :’) ) and help the other to reach their goal… I do agree with you it’s linked to not knowing each other before, but on that, isn’t knowing each other before more of a Lion thing than not knowing being a Deer thing? I don’t know, the BE are kind of a middle ground."

I both agree and disagree with what you've said here!

I think it's true, that in any route where you don't choose Byleth, the Deer are textually viewed much more as just close friends rather then found family, whereas I think if you chose their route they end up much closer (as I said above). I think the Black Eagles and Blue Lions have their lives, by nature, revolve around each other since they're literally all Nobles and thus part of the governning system of this world (with the exception of Dorothea). I think the Golden Deer have to make it a much more deliberate choice, and I do think it's something they do after the War in any route (assuming the majority of them have been allowed to live) because that sort of thing just forms a life long bond between people that's hard to shake without deliberate effort I can't imagine any of them truly wanting to put in.

They are normal! None of them hate each other! They don't have that sort of intensity, but they do have a lot of complexity that lends itself very well to found family. I think a big part of that complexity lends itself to the lack of killing (although I don't really think any of their parents deserve to be killed whether they've alive or dead?). The fact that Lorenz's dad has Claude's uncle killed (which when combined with Hilda, again, being a fucking Goneril is INSANE my man's two best friends are people who have reason to kill him for BOTH SIDES OF HIS ANCESTRY) and thus gets Raph's parents killed is something truly heartbreaking, and yet I think it's because there's no violence amongst each other or against the previous generation that characters like Claude (has had violence perpetuated against him for his heritage), Marianne (has had implied violence perpetuated against her for her crest), and Lysithea (has had violence perpetuated against her to get her second crest) are able to feel safe amongst the Deer. Violence is an intense choice, but I think lack of violence should also be viewed as something deliberate and chosen, esp. in the world of Three Houses. I mean, throughout Verdant Wind Claude is constantly complaining about the perpetuation of violence caused by the War! He's someone who deliberately chooses direct harm reduction. Although, to in fact speak of violence, I think it's absolutely insane that Hilda "I refuse to die for my friends" Goneril will willingly die for Claude "DO NOT DIE FOR MY SAKE FLEE PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU RETREAT" von Riegan's sake.

I do think that the Golden Deer are the most similar to a modern queer friend group and thus would be the easiest to make a 1:1 comparison, but again the events of the game do kind of necessitate that they are found family because they go through a war together. Their group dynamics are probably the most influenced by Byleth (Dimitri and his relationships with others while "mad" of course, aside), and it's really hard to make generalizations about them because again, the fact that she is not there to facilitate these close bonds makes it a lot harder for them to be as close as they are before the war as they end up being, although even without Byleth I still think they're exceedingly close. But yes, I agree, they do not live in each other's pockets, which does not make them any less found family, but does, probably, make them healthier in modern context lol.

(As a side note about Byleth and the house leaders: I think what she visibly provides to Edelgard and Dimitri is a lot more obvious than what she provides to Claude. She helps the both of them in maintaining themselves and not loosing themselves to the burden of leadership and trauma. Claude, however, is a character who has been handling both of those things alone, and we are shown that he is capable of handling them alone without massive cracks appearing in Three Houses. Claude does not need Byleth to live, as the other two directly do. Byleth gives Claude someone consistent and trustworthy to rely on, which opens him up to being able to do it with the other members of his house far easier then he's able to otherwise.)

Anyways! I think the Golden Deer are very queer, just more subtextually so then the Black Eagles and Blue Lions. I personally view a lot of the straight endings, so to speak, as queerplatonic (again Lorenz/Lysithea and honestly Leonie/Ignatz). Romance is a pretty easy metric to view queer storytelling through, but I don't think I'd see Sylvain as any less of a queer character if he didn't have his paired ending with Felix because of how his story is written. In a similar way, I think characters like Ignatz (wanted to be a painter, but it's not what his family wants for him; yearns to be creative and is self conscious about people thinking it'll interfere in his duties and has to learn to accept himself and his true dreams) and Marianne (sees herself as a monster that other people won't accept if they knew the true her and what she's hiding) are also queer without needing to be in romances, which is why the fandom gets a lot out of them subtextually.

Acceptance, I think, can be viewed as a very queer theme, and I think it's a prominent one within the Deer.

#twila talks #the golden deer #fe3h #verdant wind #claude von riegan #hilda valentine goneril #lorenz hellman gloucester #marianne von edmund #ignatz victor #raphael kirsten #leonie pinelli #lysithea von ordelia #claurenz #marihilda #thank you again for the ask anon I really enjoy discussing this with you!! #I don't think we necessarily disagree so much as have different interpretations of the text and i've enjoyed hearing yours and sharing mine #we needed more wlw stuff in the golden deer supports!!! in the game!!! #everyone should be bisexual in fire emblem it's a dating sim first and sexy chess second skdfhskjdfh