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#also no references were used this is my mind's eye's interpretation of them sorry if it's wildly inaccurate lmao
piyo13sdoodles · 11 months
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been on a bit of a frostiron kick recently... i think the versions of them that have been enshrined into fic from 2012 are just so neat
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ferris-the-wheel · 5 months
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@b-floyd-o-leech-b here, Tumblr doesn't allow you to send asks using your side blogs-
May I please just give Floyd a nice pair of shoes without expecting anything in return?
(If he gives me something back though, I wouldn't mind).
It can be afterschool in the hallway, and my current TWST oc is a grumpy guy named Bob that is a little bit tsundere, but he's a bit of a self-insert for my bad moods so if you just want Floyd to refer to him/me as in the 2nd person, I don't mind.
If I forgot or missed anything, please DM me, I read through the rules and probably still forgot, like, half of them. (My memory isn't great, sorry. 😅)
Totally fine >:D I'll do my best!!!
Christmas Secret Santa Event
m!reader x Floyd Leech
: ̗̀➛ Scenario: You decide to give Floyd an early Christmas gift so you track him down after classes end.
A/N: So what I got from your description is that reader is gonna be a grumpy/tsundere for Floyd. Hope I interpreted that correctly *nervously sweating*
ೃ⁀➷ Just 💖
ೃ⁀➷ Mutual crushes
ೃ⁀➷ Reader isn't Yuu
TW: None
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"Y/N~~ What did you want me here for?" Floyd asked as you rounded the corner, him trailing behind you. "Azul's gonna be mad if I'm late for work at the Mostro Lounge." He said.
"I- I wanted to give you something." You said, growing more embarrassed by the minute. But you knew that if you gave him the present— or more likely, he'd get it from under the tree himself— that he'd make a huge fuss and make even more of a scene. Sooo, you decided that you should give him his gift alone and spare yourself the embarrassment.
You held out the box to him, feeling your cheeks turn red and you turned away. He blinked for a moment, likely not expecting you to be giving him something, but his droopy grin returned and he laughed. "Awwwww, Y/N~ you got me a gift?" He said in a drawled-out way. He took the box, making sure to touch your hand in the process with a sly grin.
You scowled at him and went to walk away but he grabbed your wrist with a pouty face. "Y/N~~! You aren't gonna wait until I unwrap it? That's so meeeean!" You gave an exasperated sigh and stood where you were. He snickered and opened the present.
When he pulled the new shoes you'd bought him out of the box, his face lit up and he gave a little gasp of happiness. "New shoes? Awww, you're so thoughtful!!" Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight squeezing hug. You momentarily lost your breath as you squirmed around, trying to free yourself, though you only got away because he let you go.
"Aw, but I don't have anything to give you in return!" Floyd exclaimed, his mood shifting to being sad. "T- That's fine! I don't need a gift anyway!" You replied hurriedly, holding up your hands.
"But that'd be unfair if you gave me something and I didn't do anything in return. Hmmmmmm...." Floyd didn't appear to be listening to any of your protests, until he finally decided on something. "I got it!" He said, eyeing you with his semi-sadistic looking smile.
You were not in the mood to figure out what that meant, but he grabbed you around the waist dropping the box in the process which you thought was rude since they were brand new and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. It ended pretty much in the same moment as it started, but the suddenness of it made your face heat up and you were certain that your face was bright red.
It also left you unable to form a proper sentence. "F- Floyd! I— you— what—" Floyd gave a giggle and scooped up the box, then started walking down the hallway like nothing had happened, leaving your mind racing. "Eh— FLOYD!!!!"
Now that you had collected your thoughts, you chased after him down the hallway. When he realized that you were now following him, he took off running as well, turning only to playfully stick his tongue out at you.
I'M DONE OMG 🥹 I had no idea how I was going to start this off and this was like the only thing I could think of. Also Floyd seems to be VERY popular. He might actually have more fics than Riddle soon lol. Anywayyyyys, I hope everyone enjoyed this kinda short post (especially you, @b-floyd-o-leech-b!!!!) and I look forward to more requests for this event <3
Taglist: @officialdaydreamer00 @mermaidfanficlibrary @edith-is-apparently-a-cat @lyle-my-beloved @haruhar-u @cookiesandbiscuits
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changbunnies · 4 months
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After The Rain With You (18+)
♡ Pairing: Farm Boy!Changbin x Princess!Reader
♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, fluff, initially intended to be light angst but i got carried away with emotion like i did with the minho fic lol, forbidden love (i cannot help myself with this trope it seems), sad / bittersweet ending :') (i'm sorry !!)
♡ Word Count: 13.8k (this was intended to be under 10k but here we are lmao oops)
♡ Summary: Y/N, a princess bored and lonely, craved nothing more than to experience the world outside of the familiar 4 walls of her bedroom in the castle. Conjuring her bravery, she snuck out of the castle walls, eventually meeting a man that would change her life forever; Changbin, a local farmer who didn't realize she's the princess, formed a close relationship with her that ineveitably turned into a budding romance. But now, met with her last moments of freedom, she prepares herself to have one final sweet moment with him before they are torn apart.
♡ Warnings: references to a parent being deceased, discussions of feeling trapped and alone, strict toxic parenting
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is not a virgin during the smut scene in this but it is implied changbin is the only person they've ever had sex with, petnames (sweetheart, darlin', good girl and other gendered language), lots of kissing, marking (including biting), loose dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie, pretty self indulgent ngl lol
♡ Notes: i got the title from a short pokemon novel, iykyk. this was intended to be finished before the new year, but instead it's my first fic of 2024 and i hope you enjoy! as always you can read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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Freedom; something simple in definition, but not in practice, those in high positions of power always holding it out of the reach of those below them who yearn for it. It's intangible in concept, something you will never be able to see with your own eyes or grab with your own hands, but it was something you always yearned for, more than anything- and in the short time you had it, it was pure bliss.
You never considered yourself a rebellious girl, always dutifully listening to your elders, commiting manners and elegance to memory, never questioning the role you'd one day be made to accept. But in the past year, you'd found yourself having a bit of a rebellious streak- in secrecy, of course, because you knew very well that there'd be consequences to pay should she find out.
It's not that you ever hated being the princess, or that you dreaded the responsibility you held to your kingdom- you just wish you'd been given more freedoms. Freedom to speak your mind, freedom to feel the grass beneath your feet and the sun's rays on your skin whenever you wished, freedom to explore, to make mistakes, to learn and grow and love the way everyone else in the world but you seemed allowed to do. 
For years, there'd been a blindspot in the castle's defenses, a small patch of broken wall that guards were never ordered to defend or monitor closely, as the country had not seen war or received threat from neighboring countries in your entire lifetime. "We'll repair it someday," your father always said before his passing, though it never came to fruition. It was not because he passed that the wall never received construction, but simply because your parents always preferred to delegate funds to something more pressing than a relatively small breach in the outer walls of the castle.
Sure, the hole was unsightly when noticed, but it was outside line of sight for the townsfolk, and much too small to accommodate an army through- one person at a time, maybe two if you squeezed, could fit through at most. Apart from that, the fact that your father never used taxes to pay towards selfish things such as unnecessary castle repair gained your family high favor, with most commoners considering your father to be the kindest king the country had in centuries.
During the time your father was still alive, you often walked the streets as a family, talking to the commoners regularly and enjoying your time out on the town together, and you remember how it always felt like you were as normal a family as any other, too young to realize there was any difference between you and them. You can still remember how your mother smiled then, when she held your hand while your father held the other, the townsfolk always doting on you, and how cheerfully your every day had been spent.
Your mother was quite different now; she never smiled anymore, and when she did it felt so.. forced, sad. Like your father took a piece of her joy with him when he went, and she was unable to reclaim it. And it was at that time, when she took on all of the king's responsibilities by herself, that she'd begun to treat you differently. Stricter on your studies, never allowing you to step foot outside the castle, shutting down any talk of letting you out on the town or interacting with anyone outside the castle's walls.
And now the whole kingdom, who considered you to be the country's most beloved princess, could scarcely remember what you looked like; and even those who could remember would likely no longer recognize you. You were a child when you were last allowed outside, and now you were a grown woman, still confined by her mother's strict rules.
Despite the reclusive life you were forced into, many of the commoners still thought of you fondly- at least according to word of mouth from the castle's maids and knights. You were the daughter to a king and queen that were practically revered as saints, and many imagined that the reason you were always holed up within the castle was because you were studying dutifully, imagining that when you came to power someday, you'd be just as benevolent, kind, and intelligent of a ruler as your father was.
You certainly intended to live up to those expectations, because as stated, you don't hate being the princess by any means. You recognize that you have privilege, responsibility, and that people put their pride and faith in you even now, before you've ever even come close to touching the throne. But all that being said, it didn't stop your heart from wanting just a little bit more out of your life.
Simply put, you found it incredibly dull sitting inside the castle all day, the same lessons being reiterated day in and day out, as if you didn't already have them memorized by the age of 10. Eventually, your mother realized you had no further need for a tutor, and requested that the woman in charge of your education stop coming, but that didn't mean your afternoons suddenly became enjoyable; quite the opposite in fact. 
The joy you initially held over no longer having to spend your afternoon listening to the same drivel you'd heard countless times from a pedantic old woman evaporated with the realization that even without a tutor to occupy for time, you'd still be stuck in the castle all day long. Your mother never permitted you to leave, even if you promised you'd stay close to the knights that would accompany you, pleaded with her to let you do something other than sitting inside all day. 
But still, her stance on the matter never changed. You'd begun to resent her sentiments, to hate that you were stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The country wasn't under any threat, your fathers death was an unfortunate accident, and as far as you knew you were well loved, so what did she need to be so protective for? Especially now, when you weren't even a child anymore; you just couldn't understand.
You’d spend your days staring out your window listlessly, wondering what the grass on the horizon would feel like beneath bare feet. It’s a shame that you don’t know; you were always scolded for taking your shoes off if you weren’t within your own room, and besides that, the ground is littered with dirt and cobblestone all the way up to the gates of the town, which you had never gone past. Shouldn’t your youth be full of experiencing things like this? Why couldn’t you explore now and then settle down in the castle later in life? It didn’t feel fair that you were so clueless about the basic truths of the world, and instead had your brain filled to the brim with knowledge of etiquette and politics.
It was with those thoughts in mind that you planned to find the answers to all your questions and sate your endless curiosities by sneaking through the hole in the castle walls that had gone unattended to. After the first time you successfully snuck out to experience all you’d been missing (which took months of diligent watch and preparation to ensure you wouldn’t be spotted from a distance by patrolling knights), you’d slowly made your way further and further away from the castle, testing the limits of how far you could make it each day, gauging how long it would take for someone to notice your absence. To your delight, because you spent most of your days alone in your room, no one seemed to notice you’d ever been gone as long as you made it back before dinner was to be served.
And so, you'd stay out until sunset, exploring the town you'd grown to only ever see from your window, making sure to wear the least expensive looking gown in your wardrobe, doing your best to blend in with the commoners. Thankfully, the task was easier than you'd expected given that none of the townsfolk had seen you up close since you were a small girl. You were perhaps strange in behavior as compared to them, given how much you questioned what was around you, but certainly not one person suspected you were the princess- just a sheltered, perhaps eccentric, young woman.  
As you became more comfortable, and got closer to the town gates with each passing day, your excitement would grow exponentially; the world beyond the gates was so foreign to you, even more so than the town itself had been. From your bedroom window, the fields that lied beyond the town gates appeared so miniscule, and you only knew what lied beyond because you’d been told about it, not because you’d seen it for yourself.
It was this determination to discover what lied beyond your limited world view that lead you to meet the man who'd come to hold your heart for the first time. You remember how your heart raced when you first approached the town gates, how your eyes darted to every corner to try to take in every minute detail.
The cobblestone became sparse, leaving nothing but dirt road to walk on, the wheels of countless carriages and horses hooves indented in the path, leading both to and away from town. You’d been told numerous times that beyond this point lies the farms that fueled the town with their food, and resources such as leather and wool to create clothing, blankets, and the upholstery on your furniture. And for the first time in your entire life, you were about to see it all up close with your own eyes, instead of vaguely from your bedroom window.
You knew their work was vital to the prosperous existence of your country, and you’d always found yourself wanting to know what it was like, to learn about how the world works not from a dull lecture or written text, but to experience it yourself, to truly understand the lives of the people you would one day govern beyond what you’d been told. To say you had a curious mind was perhaps an understatement; you were always full of curiosity about the world around you, but simply being told about the world wasn’t enough for you to be satisfied. 
To experience with your own eyes, to feel with your own hands- that was what being alive was truly about, wasn’t it? You didn’t feel your life was meant to be spent wasting away in your room until the day you became useful. If you spent your youth seeing the world, learning about it from your own lived experiences, wouldn’t that make you a better queen some day? To know the plight of the common man because you lived it for yourself? 
That’s what you wanted- the freedom to explore, to learn, to grow, and when the time was right, you’d accept your duty gracefully, and play the role you were meant to, but until then, there was nothing more you wanted than to feel the earth beneath your feet, to understand what a blessing it truly is to feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, to learn what it is that makes life beautiful to live. 
With a deep inhale to steady your racing heart, you took your first step outside the town gates, trying your best to not appear too nervous and draw undue attention to yourself. You conjured all the confidence you could muster into your steps, your short heels sinking into the pure dirt before you. It was a clear spring day, the sun welcoming you warmly, as if confirming that this was a decision you were meant to make, that following your heart and exploring the lush earth is what your true purpose was. 
You recall how different everything felt once you were fully outside the town- it was almost unbelievable how green, pretty and vibrant the outside looked when compared to the dull, monotonous grays and dirty browns you'd met with inside the town walls. And even the castle interior, while still pretty and not devoid of color like the town often seemed to be, still didn't compare to the nature that lied before you.
You saw children running through the grass without shoes, freely giggling as they play what you assume to be some sort of game, one you'd never had the chance to play. They were utterly carefree, and so full of life; how you wished you could be the same- just kick off your shoes and prance through the fields and the trees without a care in the world, with nothing to weigh you down. What a joy it must be, to live innocent and free, knowing nothing but laughter and love. 
You took time to admire naturally growing flowers, to lean down to carefully caress the petals, to feel the grass on your fingertips since you’re much too scared to actually take your shoes off despite how bad you’d have liked to. Following the road, past the sprawling fields where the children play, you eventually came to the occupied farm lands, and it was there, just before the fields turned into seemingly endless forest, that you met him for the first time.
His was the last farm for you to observe, and it held a surprise that made you positively gasp in delight; animals! You'd always thought the farm animals you’d seen in your books looked so cute, and you always wanted to feel their fur or feathers, wondering if they were truly as soft or as coarse as they were described to you. Was a sheep’s wool still soft before it was knit into a blanket, or woven into clothing? It was something you were endlessly curious about. 
However, you certainly knew better than to just waltz up to an animal that doesn't know you, and especially not one that is on someone else's land. So you settled for quietly observing them from outside the farm's sprawling gate, a huge smile on your face as you watched the animals graze. Even at your distance, it was still the closest you'd ever been to an animal other than a horse, and you simply couldn't get over how cute and soft they looked. Sheep, cows, chickens, ducks- all impossibly cute, and how you wished you could go and hug them.
You propped your arms up on the wooden fence, resting your head against them as you simply watched. It was almost funny how something so simple and normal to someone else's everyday life could instill such joy and wonder with you. And that's when you saw him; a single man walking out from his quaint cottage towards the back of the land, attending to the animals and filling up what you assumed to be their feed troughs.
His home, you noticed, was put together the same way most of the town was- with stone and clay, a simple but well constructed wooden door, and a decent sized chimney on the left that you were well aware was necessary to funnel out smoke from fireplaces in homes such as his. And it fascinated you how his home could look so different from yours when it was comprised of the same materials.
When put down simply to its parts, there was nothing that separated the castle from a commoner’s home other than the sheer size of it. Your mother would often tell you not to compare yourself, or the splendor of the castle to that of commoners or their homes, but you never saw any harm in doing so. 
You’re all human, and the only difference between you and them is that you were born into a royal family and they weren’t. You think she focuses too much on title, when to you title is worth nothing beyond a name. Still, while you recognize that while you aren’t different from anyone else in a biological sense, you are when it comes to status, and you wanted to use your privileged position for good when the time came, which is another reason you wanted to see the country for yourself, to put yourself in the shoes of the people and understand them. How can you be a good queen someday if you understand nothing of how the world truly works, or if every decision is fed to you from someone else? 
Really though you have to admit, apart from all the good reasons you had to sneak out, you equally had selfish ones. But was it so wrong to indulge your curiosity? You’ve tried many times to push aside your thoughts and to understand why you must stay solitary in the castle all day, but try as you might, this is all you want. To see, to experience, to feel; why was it only wrong for you to want that, and not for anyone else? Even if you’re the princess, you should still be allowed basic human freedoms- that’s what you believe, anyways.
You lost yourself in thought for a time, simply staring out at the scene of the man caring for his animals in front of you. You wondered if he was happy doing this everyday; was it monotonous, or did he take pride in it? Did he love his animals, or were they strictly the avenue he'd taken to provide for himself? You also wondered what you would be doing if you weren't the princess; would you be a farmer's daughter, spending all your days in the fields with the animals like he does? 
It was oddly fun to ponder on, to picture yourself leading a different life than one you'd led up to that point; maybe it was a form of escapism, and maybe you had more grievances with your upbringing than you'd let yourself believe at the time, but either way, a smile once again made its way to your lips as you pictured yourself feeling the fluffy wool of a sheep beneath your fingertips, as warm, soft, and comforting as a blanket in your imagination.
The man took notice of you after only a few moments, because realistically, how can he not notice a girl blatantly propped against his fence, staring at his land? He’s sure he doesn’t know you, doesn’t recognize you from any of the farming families that have homes adjacent to his, and he doesn’t go into town nearly enough to have made friends outside his small bubble. So who were you, and why are you staring at him like that?
"Do you need somethin', miss?" The burly man called out to you as he started to approach, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. "O-Oh, uh, no, I apologize," you stuttered out, feeling instantly intimidated as he came closer; not because he was an intimidating person per se, because while his eyes are sharp, they also have a unique softness to them. It was his size that made you shrink back and feel small; you didn’t realize just how large the man was until he was practically face to face with you, and even the knights you’re met with daily, who undergo strict, intensive physical training, pale in comparison to the muscular physique of the man you in time came to know well.
You remember how he looked at you curiously, head tilting to the side as he watched you straighten your posture and take a step back from his fence. “I was just.. curious, about the animals. They’re very cute,” you explained and the man chuckled a bit, wiping his dirty hands on his worn trousers before stepping up to his fence. “I take it you’re from the town then? Can’t imagine you bein’ that curious about my animals otherwise,” he replied pleasantly, a warm, sort of prideful smile on his face. It confirmed his suspicions as well- you were definitely not someone he’s met before.  
"Yes, I've only ever seen them in books," you explained further, a bit timid now as you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure a commoner of your age would never be as fascinated by the animals as you were; they see them every day, it's a normal part of life for them. And you recall scolding yourself, really feeling that you needed to do a better job of hiding your lack of worldly experience when meeting new people so you'd stop having interactions like this. “I apologize again, I must appear very strange..”
“No need for that, sweetheart. I think it’s nice- I’m so used to bein’ around ‘em, that I don’t really stop and take it all in anymore. Reminds me of what I got, so thank you for that,” he replied kindly, his smile spreading an unfamiliar warmth through you in that moment. He was very, very kind, and you appreciated that he didn't judge you or find you to be a fool for your innocent curiosity.
"I could show you around, if you'd like. Let you meet them," he offered, and you positively beamed, though you really should have shown some restraint in the matter. "Could I really?" you couldn't help but ask eagerly, eyes sparkling with pure wonder and excitement at the prospect of seeing so many things you'd never encountered before up close. “Course, just come ‘round to the front, and tell me your name.” 
You yelled out your name as you eagerly turned and began to sprint (in quite unladylike fashion, you might add) to where you saw the gate to his property some time earlier. You could hear the man's laugh carry even as you ran (not advised in the shoes you were wearing, but you carried on nonetheless), stopping just in front of the small, modest gate. You waited for the kind man to catch up to you, not wanting to do anything rude or presumptuous by stepping onto his land without being specifically directed inside.
"You took off so fast, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself," he laughed as he approached you again, and your face immediately flushed, embarrassed by your excitability over everything. "Name's Changbin," he introduced himself warmly after he opened the gate for you, and you smiled timidly, giving a polite bow after you crossed the border onto his property. “Pleasure to meet you, Changbin.”
"Likewise," he smiled as he closed the gate behind you, and it was then that your first true friendship began. In hindsight, it occurred to you that you should've given him a fake name, and while he did ponder on why your name seemed so familiar to him, he didn't ever appear to put together that you were the princess.
What was clear to him was that you were from a wealthy family; after all, that was the only explanation he could reach to decipher some of your "odd" behaviors. Your boundless curiosity, your utter excitement for the mundane, an unmatched passion for all the small things in life that he'd never seen before in anyone else. A light in your eyes as bright as the sun, filling him with warmth and adoration, your wonder and inquisitive nature both pure and infectious. 
He asked you once, what it is your family does, if being from the "high society" part of town near the castle is what made you live a sheltered life, why you seemed so (respectfully) clueless about things beyond the scope of inner-town workings and politics. You were surprised when he asked, and confirmed what he suspected, though you left out some of the very important details. After all, how could you tell him that the girl he's become friends with over the past few months, didn't just live near the castle- her home is the castle.
But you divulged what little you could, confided in him that your mother has high expectations of you, that she doesn't know you spend your days with him at his farm, that if she did know she certainly wouldn't approve, and he seemed to understand. While he may not be a high born man, he's no stranger to how haughty they can be, what with their superiority complexes and luxury goods, as if it's not working men like him that provide them with what they consume in the first place.
You weren't like that in the slightest- you were good, pure natured, with an infectious zest for life that he couldn't help but find his own joy in. Seeing you interact with the world, the happiness you gained from the simplicities in life, the wonder and curiosity you held for all things, both small and grand- it was a trait of yours he'd come to adore.
You learned from him just as much as he learned from you, and you truly reminded him how beautiful life is, how there is magic even in the mundane, what a gift it is to have, to be, and to feel. Changbin introduced you to so much, shared so many parts of his life, and you were truly the happiest you'd ever been, always looking forward to the next day you could go out and see him again.
"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked one summer afternoon when you were in stables together, you sat on a hay bale while you watched him care for Dolly, a beautiful, black and white dappled horse that belonged to his mother, whom she named such due to 'her mane being as beautiful as a porcelain dolls.' "Does being escorted in a carriage count?" you asked, and he laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
"No, darlin', a carriage don't count," he said, smiling as you pouted ever so slightly. You were still a child the last time you were even in a carriage, given the fact that your mother never permits you to leave. You wondered what's more enjoyable; your memory of your last carriage ride is so faded, you wondered if you could even compare the experiences, were you to ever ride a horse.
As if sensing your thoughts, Changbin made an offer that once again made you beam, radiating joy and excitement. "I could teach you how. Or let you ride with me," he offered and you were eagerly nodding without a second thought, jumping straight to your feet. "I'd love that!" Changbin returned your smile, promising that once he got Dolly situated in a saddle, he'd take you for a ride while telling you everything he knows and answering any question you may have about it, no matter how small or seemingly silly and "common sense."
He helped you up onto her back, making sure you sat comfortably on the back of the saddle, both your legs dangling over one side of her body due to the fact that you were wearing a dress. Changbin got up onto the saddle with ease, carefully not to accidentally hit you with his leg while making his ascent. After he was settled in front of you, he instructed you to wrap your arms around his torso, as it takes time to become adjusted to the movement of the horse and naturally find your balance.
You wondered if he could feel your heart race when your chest was pressed against his back, how your palms grew sweaty from holding onto him, how your face flushed every time he called Dolly a "good girl", wondering what it'd be like if he said the same to you, if he praised you after he encouraged you or taught you something new.
But the more comfortable you got, the more he allowed Dolly to pick up speed, until she was going around the enclosed pen in a brisk trot, your arms squeezing Changbin as you giggle joyfully, feeling the wind brush by your ears and pull back your hair. It was so fun, so new, another experience Changbin granted you that you wouldn't otherwise have ever had the chance to have.
When you were finished, as the sun was beginning to set and it was time for you to get home, lest your mother send a maid to summon you for dinner and find you absent, he jumped off first, and then held out his hand to you, offering for you to take it, promising he'd make sure you got down safely.
And he did, letting you squeeze his hand as you made the unfamiliar leap off, his opposite hand coming to your back to ensure you were stable on your feet after you landed. His hand lingered even after it was apparent you were steady, and yours did as well, still holding onto his hand even though you no longer had need to. It felt as though there was a shift between you- both staring carefully at one another, a suggestion that you could be something more than this, that there was a connection beyond that of just friendship.
Slowly, with the same smile for you he always had, he pulled his hand away from your back, but didn't make you part from his hand, letting you hold it even as he walked you to his gate. And you felt a stutter in your heart, unlike any you'd ever felt before then, returning his smiles happily, your cheeks dusted pink even as you thanked him for the afternoon and bid him goodbye, every once in a while turning back just to him still watching you, offering a soft smile and wave each time your gazes met again.
Then, there was the time you were inside his chicken coops with him, Changbin having taught you much about how to properly care for the animals in your time near him. And after weeks of observation, you wanted to help, to really try your hand at it! You did well, for the most part- your error came when trying to get a hen away from a freshly laid egg.
You tried your best to follow Changbin's instructions carefully, but still, your inexperience was greatly apparent, and you ended up upsetting the poor thing. When she flew up in protest, it startled you, and you nearly fell backwards, but Changbin caught you, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you upright as if you weighed nothing at all.
You blinked up at him in surprise, face growing red as he asked if you were alright, your heart unexpectedly pounding. You muttered out an apology, voice much meeker than you wanted it to be, but he simply smiled, helping you steady yourself again to stand on your own, ensuring you that it wasn't your fault, and that he could tell you were genuinely trying your best.
"No one gets it right on their first try, don't be discouraged, you did good, sweetheart," he said, and the words somehow made your heart race faster, face growing even pinker. You were certain then- you liked him as much, much more than a friend. You wanted him to always praise you, to console you, to call you sweetheart in a way beyond platonic- to look at you romantically, to call you by such sweet names in a moment of love and passion.
When you returned home that day, lying in bed after finishing dinner and washing up, your thoughts were plagued by him- much more than they usually were, and in completely different contexts. How would his strong arms feel under your fingers while he held you up, supporting all of your weight as he took you in every way conceivable, across every surface of his home.
You'd had.. less than pure thoughts before of course, so it's not like this was new to you- what was new was having an explicit object of desire, someone you wanted to lie with, someone you imagined touching you everywhere, and you touching them and pleasuring them in equal measure.
There were many times you watched him work, sweat collecting on his forehead, dripping down his brow, his breath growing heavier with labor, his broad chest rising and falling quickly with exertion- would he look the same atop you? Body heavy between your legs, pressing you down, and God, you were driving yourself crazy thinking about it.
Changbin noticed, another summer day, sun high and hot, leaving him sweatier than usual, and your face hot and red (though for reasons beyond that of the sun beaming down on you.) "C'mon sweetheart, let's go inside. It's hot out here, ain't it?" he'd said, deciding it was time, for both your sakes, to take a well deserved break. You agreed, thankful beyond words he thought it was simply the sun making you a heated mess, and not how absolutely divine he looked chopping wood in preperation for when the weather would change in a month.
You sat on his sofa together, sipping on lemonade he made himself by hand, thankful to be out of the unforgiving sun (and to have something to focus on besides how attracted you were to him.) "You seem to be thinkin' a lot today. What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Changbin asked after it was quiet for a time, your cup of lemonade held in your lap as you stared off at unfixed location.
"I've.. come to like you quite a lot more than I expected. As more than a friend, I think," you answer honestly, though you don't expect him to do anything with your feelings. While he's your first real connection with someone, you're sure he's lived a full, experienced life. You feel there's no reason for him to like you as you like him, but still you told him, for you already hide enough about your life from him, and you don't want your thoughts and feelings to be one of those things you keep from him.
"I'm fond of you too. More than a friend, and more than you probably know," he replied with a soft smile, setting his empty cup to the side. You blinked, cheeks turning pink as you practically gaped at him. "Do you mean that? Sincerely?" you asked, heart thumping loudly as you too carefully set your cup aside. "I wouldn't lie to you darlin'. 'Specially not about matters of the heart," he responded earnestly, carefully moving closer to you.
You met him halfway, slowly, your eyes timidly meeting his as his hand comes towards you, resting heavy but soft on your cheek. "Tell me truly," he almost whispers, face coming close enough to yours to feel his breath tickle your skin, "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?" "Yes," you breathed out, and not even a full second later, his lips were on yours, plush and soft, butterflies filling your stomach and truly, you couldn't ask for any greater joy than that moment.
You kissed a lot after that- in greeting and in parting, sweetly, slowly, carefully, sometimes even urgently, needily, passionately. You'd help him with as much of his daily work as you could manage, so he could finish faster and you could spend the rest of the afternoon holding one another close, hands exploring anywhere and everywhere, both eager, both seeking more and more and more, both indulging in the feeling of not just pleasure, but of closeness, intimacy beyond just the physical, the love and care you share for one another.
But as quickly as your happiness was obtained, it was taken away; unbeknownst to you, on an afternoon in early fall, shortly after breakfast, a knight had seen you squeezing through the hole in the castle's wall, eager to spend yet another day with Changbin. He didn't think you were sneaking out at first- he thought maybe he was just mistaken on what he saw, but when he stepped over, and it became clear that you were now nowhere to be seen, he had to inform your mother, as was his duty.
And there are truly no words to describe how devastated you felt when suddenly, as if from nowhere, countless knights were surrounding you, pleading with you to return to the castle, lest they have to drag you back by your mother's command. It became a spectacle in the street, commoners whispering amongst themselves as they tried to piece together what they were witnessing, and if the sweet, smiley girl they’d seen exiting and returning to town everyday for months was really the princess this entire time.
You felt as if your entire world was collapsing as they escorted you back home, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, knowing your mother would be positively furious when your eyes next met. But no, she wasn’t just furious- she was livid, the angriest you’d ever seen her in all your years. You pleaded with her to understand, assured her that if you were truly going to run away from home and abandon your responsibility, then you wouldn’t have returned every single time you’d left. You didn’t want to be stuck here all day, every day, bored, alone, depressed, when there was an entire world out there to see, people to talk to, experiences to be had. You’d do everything expected of you as a princess, and later as queen, but please- just this one thing, allow me this one thing.
But no, your pleas fell on deaf ears, your mother completely dismissive of your feelings and unwilling to bend her iron rules. And so you once again became a prisoner inside your own room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the edge of town from your window, Changbin so near, yet impossibly far. Your mother didn’t know of Changbin, you didn’t tell her, nor would you ever, as things stand now- but how you wished you could tell her, “I’ve found love, and now I understand how truly a magical thing it is. I don’t want this to be the end of my joy.” 
Weeks passed, and while the pain never left you, you learned to manage it well enough, hopeful that you’d be reunited with Changbin someday soon. But then you saw them- carpenters, working diligently to fill the hole in the castle walls that you had repeatedly used for your daily escapes. The color drained from your face, your heart sinking into the very depths of your stomach. Your plan to simply be an obedient daughter long enough for your mother to lessen her watchful eyes on you, to one day again leave the castle once her constant vigil had relaxed, was being thwarted before it could ever truly begin. 
You anticipated to be in this act for the long haul, knowing very well it could take months, or even years, to rebuild your mother’s trust in you, but you’d never imagined she’d take away the very source of your hope mere weeks after confining you away to your room. To call a hole in the castle’s defenses your “hope” may seem foolish to most, but it was all you had- a symbol of escape, of life beyond these four walls that had become your permanent home. 
The day it was filled would be the day you’d lose everything; your freedom, your friendships, your joy, your hopes, your dreams, everything. Even as you are now, a canary trapped in her gilded cage, the promise that simple flaw in the walls gave you kept you going- the promise that someday, even if it was years and years from now, you’d be free again, doing what you loved most, being with who you loved most. 
You know your mother cares for you, she wants the best for you, and the loss of your father, the king, much too soon has deeply scarred her. She fears for you, she keeps you ever at arm’s length because she can’t bear for you to part from her, to leave her behind the way your father had, but surely this isn't the answer. Surely there was something better than this, something that didn’t necessitate you being a prisoner in your own home. 
Fear of loss and devastation ruled her life, made her trap you lest you decide to leave and never return, failing to realize that it was her very actions and treatment of you that gave those fears of hers room to become reality. But to know heartbreak is to know truest love, and even should loss plague your life, you will never regret having discovered love.
You had no desire to abandon your family, your kingdom, or run from your responsibilities, but if that was the only way to be free, if there was no other conceivable way to experience life’s joys and warmth, then.. What else was there for you to do? Ironic, how your mother had unwittingly created a self-fulfilling prophecy when she forbade you from living a life of your own, her own actions resulting in the very outcome she feared most of all.
You have to do something, anything, now, before it’s too late, and you are left with nothing but the fleeting memories of the man you hold so dear. You bide your time, waiting until nightfall when the carpenters have left for the night to make your move. Your mother has posted knights to the spot now, instructed to keep a watchful eye should you try again to leave the premises, but you think with the right timing, you can slip out unnoticed. 
There’s a small window of time where, when the knights standing guard rotate shifts, the hole in the castle’s walls will have no one standing in front of them. It’s risky, and if you’re too slow you’ll be spotted by the new knights taking over for the ones who departed, but it’s the only chance you have, so you need to take it. As soon as the knights previously keeping watch over the area get far enough away, you dart for the breach in the castle. The hole is definitely smaller than it was before, but you still manage to squeeze past just fine, with seconds to spare before you hear the sounds of the new knights approaching, luckily having not noticed anything amiss.
The streets are much different at night, the subtle illumination from the candles in the surrounding buildings hardly enough to point you in the right direction. You look to the horizon instead, hoping that the dark line of trees on the horizon will be enough to guide you to the gate leaving town. Some who notice your desperate run call out, concern evident in their voice, but you can’t stop for them, can’t stop until you’ve made it to Changbin’s side. And though it is not without struggle, you do, eventually, thankfully, find your way out of the town.
You’re panting, chest heaving as your heart pounds and your lungs desperately try to suck in air once you’ve made it completely outside the town gates- but still, you aren’t where you need to be, so you can’t stop yet. Pushing yourself to your very limits, even as your legs scream at you and harsh cold pricks your skin, you can finally make out Changbin’s land in the tree-lined horizon. Reaching the gate to his property, you push it open in haste, taking hardly any steps past the threshold before you collapse to your knees, the ache and exhaustion refusing to be ignored any further. 
You bring a hand to your heart, taking a few seconds to calm yourself and breathe before you attempt to rise back to your feet, but your legs refuse the action, much too weak to support you beyond what they’ve already done. It’s good enough, you suppose; they’ve carried far, with much more urgency than you’d ever thought possible, and now you’re right here, so close to where you need to be- and despite being a princess, you’re not above crawling your way over to Changbin’s door if you must.
Once more, you try- and though weak, and unsteady, you are able to rise once more. You can’t run, can hardly even walk as sore and as exhausted as your legs are, but they carry you as far as they can, recognizing the urgency you feel, aiding you as much as it can in your last, desperate effort. Your throat is dry, it hurts, but you call out Changbin’s name regardless, hoping he’s awake, hoping he hears you, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around you, kiss you, console you, even if it’s just this one last time.
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It’s been over a month since the last time Changbin saw you, and there’s so many questions he can’t help but ask himself, that he wishes he could ask you, so he didn’t spend all his hours distracted with worry and self-doubt. There had been gaps in the time you spent together before, but never for this large of a duration of time- a week usually at most. Did he do something wrong the last time you were together? Or did your strict mother finally learn of your deceit, and now made you keep away, unable to return to his side though you may have wished to? 
He just wishes he knew for certain what it is, so that even if he was saddened, he did not have to have his mind consumed by what-if’s and uncertainties. There was a time, even, where he considered going into town and asking of you, but he was worried that doing so would only create more problems for you if the wrong person caught word of his inquiries. So all he could was wait- wait, and hope, that you would return again before year’s end, and that he would have the answers he so desperately craves to his questions.
Most of all, he just hopes you’re well; you’d expressed more than once that you loved your life and your family, you just didn’t want to feel trapped. You wanted to have choices, to feel like your thoughts and opinions matter, to be allowed to live as most other people do when you are not burdened with work. Whenever you spoke of home, he always found it unfair, and he felt for you- you loved your mother, dearly, but he could see how you struggled with her rules, how sadness lingered in your eyes and resent bubbled up within you despite how you tried to not feel such things. 
And though he understood why you could not, he wished at times that you could simply stay with him- to not have to depart the moment the sun began to sink, to lie in bed with him all night, to have breakfast and dinner together, to live without worry together. He’d work hard for you, even harder than he does now, and it’d be worth it to see you smile at him as you always do, so bright and full of light, keeping each other company on your loneliest days and nights. 
Changbin sighs, exhaustion plaguing him as he sits before the small fire he has going in his living room, head falling back against his sofa. He hasn’t slept well these past few nights- he just can’t help but think of you at all hours, and every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he’s met with the image of you. It keeps him up, though not all his thoughts of you are plagued by unpleasant worry- sometimes it’s simply just the image of you smiling or laughing, and he feels nothing but warmth, even as he is reminded how much he truly misses you. 
Should you never return again, for whatever reason that may be, he doesn’t think he would ever regret having known you and given his love to you. Short-lived though your romance may be in the grand scheme of his life, and all the years he may be blessed to live, it was of the utmost importance, and he’d be remiss to let those memories become tarnished or devalued. You reminded him of how much joy there is in life, how grateful he is to have what he does, how much beauty there is in even the smallest of things. 
Another sigh leaves his lips as he lifts his head, rubbing carefully at his weary eyes- he should probably try to rest soon, though he feels sleep will likely stay out his reach for some time after his head hits the pillows. He stands from the sofa, preparing himself to extinguish the fire and head to bed, when he hears a strange, unfamiliar sound from outside his door. A thud, almost- as if something with a not insubstantial amount of weight thumped to the ground. 
It couldn’t be his logs- he knew the sound of falling logs well enough to recognize the distinct sound made when one toppled, and often times when one fell, more followed. This was unlike that entirely, only one sound followed by silence, and the sound itself was still too dense to be one of his pieces of chopped wood. The sound felt more.. concentrated; an animal perhaps? And if it was an animal, he couldn’t let it go ignored- especially not if it was one of his own. 
As Changbin steps closer to his door to investigate the sound, he hears something else entirely unexpected- a frail voice.. your voice..? Rushing to his door now, he opens it in haste, eyes darting to find the source of what he heard. And there, he sees you, collapsed to the ground before him, looking up at him with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and anguish. “Y/N-” he gasps as he leans down to you, concern evident in his voice and expression, hands reaching out to touch you and shit, your body is freezing; you are woefully ill dressed for the fall chill, and who knows how long you’ve been out in it with nothing but your dress. 
Quickly, he picks you up, carrying you inside and using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. “Just sit here a minute,” he says as he sits you down on the sofa, rushing to his room to grab all the blankets and pillows he can carry. He prepares a sort of makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fireplace, laying down a couple blankets and pillows, with the intention to have you lay by the fire and spread some much needed warmth through your chilled body. 
Changbin scoops you back up when he’s satisfied with his work, very carefully laying you down a close (yet safe) distance to the fire, nestling beside you after and laying an additional blanket over your bodies. He has so many questions, his mind is racing, but they can wait- making sure you’re not going to suffer frostbite is of much more importance. He lets you use him for warmth, not complaining a bit when your cold limbs tangle with his, letting you sap his warmth and take it for your own. 
He brings his hands to your face, warming your cold cheeks in his palms, looking you over carefully. You looked unhurt, thankfully- he has no idea what you’ve gone through, but he’s glad you’re here now, and looking well, all things considered. “Do you want to tell me what’s happened?” he asks softly, pushing the fallen hair away from your eyes, letting him meet your gaze without obstruction. You swallow down your bubbling emotion, wanting to be clear and concise, to leave no room for confusion or error. 
“My mother is very strict, as you know.. She enforced her rules more harshly after she discovered how I’d been spending my time. I had to sneak out again just to be here,” you answer, and his brows furrow. “Again..? Have you been sneaking out to see me all this time?” he asks, and you nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Changbin knew your mother had strict rules, he knew she didn’t approve of her daughter meeting with those of lower class, but that wasn’t the extent of it? 
This whole time, he thought your lie to your mother was simply that you exited town- not that you left home entirely. He was under the impression that you were still allowed out on the streets, at the very least; not that you were caged up inside all day like some sort of bird. But this.. This was outrageous, cruel. To not let your daughter out of the house at all? That’s what you’d been dealing with this entire time? 
Relationships with parents are complex, but he almost can’t even believe you still love her after all this, that you still want to uphold whatever ambitions it is that she has for you; if it were him, he doesn’t think he could stand it. He followed in his parents footsteps because he wanted to, not because he was forced to. And he doesn’t imagine you’d be much different from him in that regard; naive though you may be at times, you had a strong sense of responsibility, and were intelligent in matters he was clueless on, a completely different kind of intellect from his own. 
“You can stay with me,” he wants to say, “I’ll never make you do a single thing you don’t want to do, you’ll always be respected and happy.” But he knows you’d refuse, your sense of pride in yourself and responsibility simply too strong to abandon just because of one obstacle, harsh though that obstacle may be. In equal measure, you don’t think you could ever ask him to stay with you. How much would he have to give up to be with you? 
You don’t want to ask that of him- to make him give up his home and all he holds dear just to be stuck in the castle with you. He doesn’t even know you’re the princess in the first place. And though you love him, it’s painfully apparent that you’re in two separate worlds that may not be destined to converge though you wish them to. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you say, hot tears finally starting to fall as you the emotion unleashes itself from the depths of where you’d pushed them down, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”
God, Changbin feels like his heart is shattering. It’s so painful to see you reduced to this, you who is always so bright and vibrant in her joy, brought low to tears and heartache. Why must you endure this? Does your mother truly not understand how much pain she causes you but not allowing you to simply live? “Don’t think like that. If you say it’s the end, then it will be,” he whispers, the pain in his own voice evident despite how he tries to hide it behind a mask of strength for your sake.
The tears flow from your eyes and you let him rub them away with his thumb, letting him fill your head with impossible, sweet promises. Your whole life was clouded in dreadful, dreary rain, and there’s nowhere you wanted to be more after the rain than with Changbin. What a ray of sunshine he was, even without intending to be- the light that illuminated your otherwise dark existence. And how painful it was to know that come morning, it would all become nothing but a memory from your youth. 
You lean forward to kiss him, tears continuing to leak from the corners despite having your eyes closed now. You want to tell him “I love you” but you fear that saying so will only make the act of parting that much harder and painful. You fear that no matter how much time passes, the name of your first love will forever be written in your heart, that you will never stop loving him even should you lead lives separate from one another. And still, you have no regrets, because for a time you felt truest joy and love, and what a gift it was to share with him. 
Taking his hands from your face, he pulls you closer, your entangled limbs being woven together more complexly, your torsos now completely flushed to one another, his arms wrapped around and holding you tight, as if lessening his hold on you would cause you to dissipate. And perhaps you will disappear, but not now- not while he has you like this, not when you are where you long to be most. Your tears slow, eventually receding completely as your lips touch. 
If this is truly your last moment together, you have decided you will not spend it wallowing in sorrow- you will enjoy all you can, you will memorize every detail, you will etch it in your very soul. “Are you warm enough?” Changbin asks after he separates from you, but still close enough that his breath lingers on your lips. “Could be warmer,” you answer and he chuckles softly, kissing you again, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body, to your hips. 
“Want me to add more to the fire?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice as he knows that’s not what you’re insinuating. While you normally speak quite openly and honestly, you become.. meek within intimate moments. Changbin always finds it incredibly cute, how you dance around what you mean, waiting for him to get the hint and give you what you want. He always gets the hint, but it’s fun to see your blush grow hotter, to see you stumble with your words when he plays dumb about what you mean, or purposely misunderstands just to make you state what you want clearly. 
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt, but..” you trail off, chewing on your lip nervously as you meet his eyes again. He raises his brow but says nothing, smiling patiently as he waits for you to speak your mind. What a menace, you think, he always does this when he realizes you want to be intimate with him. However, he doesn’t intend to waste too much time making you flustered and teasing; it’s just.. if this is the last time like you seem to believe, then he wanted to see it again now, before the opportunity was lost to him. 
“I’ve missed you a lot, you know. I want you to touch me,” you finally answer and he coos, furthering the embarrassment you feel as heat rushes to your face. But better than being cold like you were earlier, you suppose; maybe you should welcome his teasing, since it never fails to make your face and body hot. “You missed me, darlin’? I missed you too,” he smiles, kissing your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, “thought about you every damn day.” 
His low voice near your ear makes you shudder, his soft kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, furthering the feeling. You never let him mark your skin, afraid of what consequences would come from your mother finding out what you’d been doing, but you’re tempted to let him tonight- if you’re going to be punished regardless, why not be selfish, go out with a display? “Binnie, leave a mark on me, please,” you shamelessly plead, using the nickname you know he loves to hear you speak. 
Changbin lifts his head from your shoulder, meeting your gaze with uncertain excitement. God, he’d love to, but.. “Are you certain? What of your mother?” he asks carefully, pushing your hair behind your neck to expose more of your skin. He may be apprehensive out of concern, but the minute you make it clear you have no reservations, he’s obliging without restraint, giving you everything you ask- anything you want, you’ll have it. 
“I don’t care what she thinks anymore, I want her to know that I.. have someone I love,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles, his heart feeling like it’s expanding in size. “You love me?” he asks, and you return his smile as you nod, because though you were scared to tell him, you are glad you did. His reaction to the information was completely worth it, his eyes sparkling with deep emotion and fondness for you. 
“I love you too. More than you probably know,” he says, mirroring what he said when he confessed that he liked you too, and he lets you pull him into a kiss, your affection radiating. There’s a soft giggle that escapes him, not being able to help how giddy your love makes him feel, how you love him despite what people in your life expect from you. If he could, he’d assure them all how well he’d take care of you, how he’d make sure you never suffered a day in your life because of him. He suspects your mother doesn’t care much about your happiness, but if she did, if she gave him the chance to prove it, he wouldn’t rest until he gave you the entire world, until she could see your love as true. 
You lay your head back to the pillows, tilting it comfortably so that Changbin has more access to your skin. His breath warms you, and you all but tremble with anticipation when you feel his lips on you again, knowing your skin will finally bear his mark after all this time. You’ve seen such a mark briefly on your maids that you know to have lovers, how they try to hide them with their hair or makeup, the sort of shame and embarrassment they feel when they realize you’ve noticed it.
You will have no such shame; you will wear them proudly, in a show that is simultaneously of love and rebellion. I have and I know love, and that is all that matters. People will certainly have opinions, but you’ve sacrificed enough to them. If there is only one day you can live selfishly, you want it to be this day; and even as the marks fade, they will serve as a reminder of what you once had. 
He plants open mouthed kisses to your neck, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing you adding to the anticipation you feel. Your fingers tangle in his dark, unruly curls, as he carefully, almost gently, sucks and bites at your supple skin, leaving behind a string of beautiful, red, blue, and purple bruises. There’s a tinge of pain, yes, but the excitement grows beyond the subtle sting, transforming it almost entirely into pleasure. 
When Changbin’s finished with one side, he lies you on your back and does the same to the other, your eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head for him to have more room to work. You unintentionally tug on his hair when his teeth meet a particularly sensitive spot, and you would’ve apologized had he not groaned in delight from the feeling. You learned something new about him every time you were intimate, and this discovery in particular had your stomach flipping.
“Want you to take it off,” he mumbles in reference to your dress, pulling at the fabric that had begun to bunch up at your thighs. You hum, detangling your hand from his hair and letting him sit up, watching as he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. In all the times you’ve seen Changbin’s skin bare, you never stopped being amazed at how divine he looked. He was so big and strong, it always left you breathless, his cute, soft stomach a direct contrast from the bulk in his arms and chest. And then there was the small patch of hair that led from his belly button to the waistband of his trousers that always left you hungry to see the rest of him. 
Still feeling a bit weak from your exertion prior, you ask Changbin to help you remove your dress, which he is more than happy to do. He’s careful with the fabric, though you’ve decided you don’t care about it at this particular moment, and he sets it aside with much more care than he did his own clothing. What a gentleman he is, you think, taking the extra time to care for your clothes even when he’s met with you bare before him.
Well, not entirely bare- you still have your undergarments on, and after deciding you’d see Changbin today no matter what, you purposely wore your prettiest pair. A beautiful, intricate and delicate white lace, one you might aspire to wear on your wedding night. He looks you over in awe, taking in all your details. You were always beautiful, but your choice in clothing somehow enhances it, drives his excitement even further. 
“Fuck, you’re stunning. How did I get so lucky?” Changbin questions aloud and you smile, a soft giggle escaping you as he leans back down to kiss you. “Take your pants off too, otherwise it isn’t fair,” you playfully complain and he grins, letting out a chuckle of his own as lifts himself back up. “Maybe I spoil you too much, giving you everything you want so easily,” he responds to your complaint with one of his own, trying not to smile so that he appears serious- though you are easily able to read that he’s playing around, just as you were. 
“You give me everything I want because I’m a good girl for you though, right?” you ask and he groans audibly; you admitted early on in your sexual relationship that you were curious about being called such things, and when he tried it out, it was discovered that he liked saying it just as much as you liked being called it. It’s not just saying it to you that he likes either- hearing you call yourself one, saying it’s just for him.. that’s what really gets him going. 
He doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say you belong to him, especially not after all you’ve suffered through, but he definitely belongs to you. You don’t anticipate Changbin pulling his underwear down with his trousers, but the sight of his cock is never unwelcome. It’s already hard and leaking, and when he leans down to you once again, you can feel it pressing against your bare thigh, smearing its fluid on your skin. It always excites you, how hard he gets from your body, and while you are normally much more timid, you’re enjoying getting him riled up quickly. 
“You’re dangerous,” he says with a small huff, and before you can come back with more words to make his cock throb, he’s kissing you again, this time wasting no time with softness and shoving his tongue past your lips. You welcome it, opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue tangle with yours. The feeling always makes you light-headed in the most delicious way possible- it’s intoxicating to put it simply, and you would kiss him for hours and hours if given the chance. 
His hands come to your bra, unhooking it easily after all the practice he’s had, and though he could easily toss it aside, he breaks away long enough to set it down gently. You giggle at how he’s still treating your clothes with care even while this hard and eager, but that’s what makes you love him so much. Returning to your mouth, he nips and sucks at your bottom lip, and you mewl at the sting, which Changbin always gladly soothes with his tongue before repeating. 
His fingers roll, pinch, and tug your nipples, not too hard, but enough to have you whining and squeezing your legs together. They were always so sensitive in Changbin’s rough, calloused hands, and there were times you felt you could cum simply from the stimulation of them alone, especially when he used his mouth. And he did just that when he pulled away to stop kissing you, though not right away.
He kissed all over your chest, leaving love bites and sucking small, almost delicate bruises onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, not yet touching your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You told him to mark you, and it seems he was determined to do it everywhere- not that you had any objections. It was a bit strange, seeing your chest bitten and the color of your flesh changed, but you equally enjoyed it, loved the physical proof that Changbin was on you. 
When his tongue finally swirled around one of your nipples, you let out a breathy moan that quickly turned into a drawn out whimper when he used his teeth to carefully tug. He made sure not to hurt you too overtly, to just give you enough of that sweet sting you found so enticing and pleasurable, and in return you gave him that same delicious feeling by tugging on his hair every time you felt good. 
Your panties were soaked by the time he stopped giving your breasts attention, and though you hadn’t reached your peak from the stimulation, you felt so close. Resuming his path down your body, Changbin’s cock throbs and twitches when he’s met with evidence of your excitement, your white panties darkened by how damp they’ve become. He doesn’t pull them down right away- he kisses your legs first, and then your thighs, leaving behind the same kisses and marks he gave to your chest and neck. 
Your inner thighs are especially sensitive, and it causes you to jolt and whine when he sinks his teeth into the meat of them. He’s got you so impossibly worked up, you feel like you could cry when he finally gives your neglected heat the attention it craves. He praises you before he slides your panties down your legs, and there’s a relieved sort of noise coming from your throat that makes Changbin chuckle. 
You keen when his tongue finally slips between your folds, licking and sucking up everything you have to offer him. There’s an enthusiastic hum that leaves his lips when your fingers tangle in his hair again, followed by a groan when you pull and tug. Your legs are trembling and twitching so much, constantly threatening to lose around his head, that he has to push them down to keep you how he wants you.  
It’s when his tongue meets your clit that you really start to lose yourself, your hips jolting up and back arching, legs quivering when he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You’re panting, begging him, incoherently mumbling and babbling about how close you are, and within seconds you’re seeing white, eyes rolling back as further wetness gushes on his face. He licks your release up with another eager hum, dragging out the feeling until you’re a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him. 
You release your hold on his curls when you finally come down from your high and your body relaxes, opening your eyes to see Changbin grinning at you, evidently proud of the fact that he got you to cum in record time. He kisses you softly, quick and chaste, not trying to hinder you from taking any of the breaths you need, just wanting to show his affection. “What do you want next, darlin’? Since I’m givin’ you everything you want,” he asks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he awaits your answer.
“W-Want to be on top but.. I’m still feeling pretty weak. Especially after that,” you reply with a slight blush, and he chuckles again, cooing at you as if you’re just so sweet and cute (and to be fair, you are. At least to him.) “S’okay sweetheart, I can help you,” Changbin says sweetly, giving you one more kiss before he’s lying down on the makeshift bed and pulling you on top of him. Your legs are on either side of them, his hands on your hips, looking up at you with pure affection. 
“This good? Comfortable?” he asks, and you hum with a nod, smiling just a bit as you lean down to kiss him again. Normally, given how thick he is, Changbin would prep you before having you take his cock, but given how wet and excited you are, he doesn’t think the prep is as necessary (and you might not be patient enough for it after all the build up to this point regardless.) He helps you line yourself up with his cock, both of you letting out your own shaky noises as you sink down on him. 
“Atta girl, keep goin’, just like that, sit on me all the way,” he encourages you, and you do just as he asks, your hands tightly gripping his biceps to ground and support yourself as you sit flush with his body, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his. He rubs your thighs and legs, trying to show soothing affection as you adjust and settle, listening attentively to all the trembling exhales and noises you make. 
You look so beautiful atop him, illuminated in the gentle, warm glow of the fireplace, your hair having fallen in a way that messily, yet somehow perfectly, frames your face. He can see everything- your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, beautifully painted with all the marks he left behind. You can feel him twitching and throbbing inside you, but he doesn’t rush you along, lets you take all the time you need. 
You feel him twitch again when you lean down to kiss him, and it’d make you giggle if it also didn’t make a wave of pleasure shoot through your body. You move your hands to his chest to support your own weight better, experimentally rolling your hips as you coax your tongue into his mouth. He lets out a groan from deep in his chest as you move, his tongue wasting no time in meeting and dancing with yours, his fingers squeezing at the already tender meat of your thighs. 
You lift yourself back up to begin moving in earnest, your hands still planted firmly on his chest for support as you slide yourself up and down his length. The slow pace, while it still feels good, isn’t enough for either of you, and soon enough you find yourself practically bouncing on his cock, the sound of your thighs repeatedly slapping down on his echoing into the room. Changbin curses, biting his lip as he watches you, using his hands to help guide you up and down, trying to ease some of the ache in your legs. 
He thrusts upward into you when your pace starts to stutter and lose rhythm, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he hits the perfect spot again and again. It reaches a point where his hands simply hold you in the right place while he exerts all his effort, feet planted firmly on the ground while he does all the work from below. Your nails dig into his skin, head falling back as you feel your release building up again. 
Changbin effortlessly flips your positions, though he is careful not to hurt you in his haste- he just wants to make you fall apart again, and it’s easier to do that if he doesn’t have to control your movements- just his own. He resumes the pace he held from below, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick circles, unable to help the way he groans when he feels you clench around him even tighter in response. 
“B-Bin, please, Binnie, so close,” you babble and whine, your hands twisting the blankets beneath you. “I know sweetheart, let go, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grunts out, and again, you feel white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your vision blurring and mind growing fuzzy as you let go. “Good girl, just a little more, just need you to hang on for a little more,” he both instructs and praises, pulling out just long enough to flip you to your stomach, pushing back into your heat just as quickly as he left it. 
You whimper loudly, fingers clutching desperately at the pillow your head rests on, Changbin bringing a hand around your body to lift your hips ever so slightly. He was hitting your spot deliciously from this angle, the pleasure so great that tears once again pricked the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall with each gasp and whimper you released. You turn your head back as much as you can, delighted in the visage of Changbin’s head thrown back in pleasure, 
He always got rougher when he started to get close, his hands always tightening their grip, his thrusts, while growing less rhythmic, became harsher and faster, almost desperate, and it was always a treat to experience. You loved watching him lose himself to the pleasure, loved that it was you and your body that brought him there, loved how his grunts and groans transformed into higher pitched whimpers and whines. 
You bring your own fingers to your clit, wanting to let him enjoy and focus on his release since he already spent so much time on your pleasure. He leans forward, his chest pressed into your back, his hot breath hitting your ear, his whines and praises pouring directly into it. “Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good, ‘m gonna- fuck, gonna fill you up,” he stammers out, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your stomach erupting in countless butterflies, driving you to speed up the motion of your fingers. 
You release again with a strangled cry, gushing around his length and on your fingers. Changbin follows closely behind, the feeling of you clenching and squeezing around him as you cum for the third time sending him over his peak. He releases in long, drawn out spurts, both of you breathless and exhausted when he collapses next to you. You both know you should get cleaned up, but you’re both too tired to care, and he can always clean up his messes in the morning. For now, he just wants to stay close, here in front of the fire, with you. 
This very well could be your last night together, but he doesn’t want to believe it is. He wants to believe that the two of you can find a solution somehow, that after all the hardship, you’ll be smiling at him in the end. There’s a part of you that doesn’t even want to fall asleep at all- you want to stay up all night, to not waste a single moment you have left, to stare and feel and love until the very last second, so that he’ll remember him clearly always. 
You do your best to not become teary eyed again, having promised yourself you wouldn’t spend your night with him wrapped up in your sorrow and dread. But oh, how you wish there was more time, how you wish that your mother would understand you, that you could have just this one thing. But you suppose for a girl with immense responsibility, happiness is too much to ask for. You sacrifice your happiness so that others may have it instead- as noble an act as any, but you selfishly wish you could have both; the people’s happiness and your own. 
The idea of running away still leaves you torn, even after all this time. You don’t want to let anyone down.. but still, you have to ask yourself, is doing what’s right for your family and future worth all this heartache? If it’s what is right, why does it make your heart feel as if it’s been shattered like glass? You’ve been told in life that the right thing to do is never the easiest, but you can’t imagine that in this case, walking away from either side is right. 
You want both. Is that truly so wrong? You want to be a ruler worthy of her name and title, and you want Changbin. Why must you choose one over the other? As far as you’re aware, even now, Changbin doesn’t know you’re the princess. He’ll likely find out soon, when every knight in the town is floundering to find you come morning, when they realize you’re gone. You should slip away before then, lest your lover be met with undue scrutiny and unfair treatment from your mother and other nobles. 
But looking at him now, even still.. you don’t want to leave. You’ll never want to leave. “Sweetheart,” Changbin calls softly, his hand reaching up to leave comforting, lingering touches to your head. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’. But don’t be sad yet, not ‘til we’ve said goodbye.” You blink away the accumulating tears with a nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat the best you can and burying your face into Changbin’s welcoming body. 
You’re so, so tired, and you know he is too, but he’s trying his best for you. And he’s being the strong one despite how much his heart aches with yours. He rubs your head, kisses your temple, tells you he loves you. Your heart breaks and mends all at once; how bittersweet this moment is.. If you’re lucky, you have about 7 hours until anyone realizes you’re gone. Maybe you can sleep for just a few, just enough to get some of this ache out of your body, and then you can spend the rest with Changbin. 
You’ll cry, you know, as soon as you depart back home. You’ll cry when the hole in the castle’s defenses is completely sealed. You’ll cry when you look to the fields his home sits on from the bedroom window. Still.. you do your best to uphold your promise to yourself, and now to Changbin. You won’t cry, and you won’t be upset- not yet, anyways. Not until you’ve actually parted ways. For now, you’ll continue to lie in his arms, continue to express your love for him, continue to smile and laugh as if this isn’t the end, until morning comes and reminds you painfully that it is. 
How beautiful it was to love Seo Changbin, to learn and to grow and to really live with his help, patience, and care. How fondly you’ll miss him in every moment, how lovingly you’ll always hold his memory. Brief though your love together is, much shorter than it should have been, it has changed you for the better, and you’ll never regret it, even should your heart ache. And maybe Changbin is right; maybe there is room for hope, and maybe you’ll see each other again much sooner than you allow yourself to think. No matter what lies before you, there is one thing for certain; Changbin is your first love, and he’ll forever be etched in your heart- your lover, your deepest connection, your closest confidant. And how grateful you are to have known him.
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penguin--rat · 29 days
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canine girl in all her doggy glory!! already posted her design and profile the other day, but i updated her profile and i want all her images in one post.. speaking of her profile, warning warning for talk of violence there more on canine (+ lyrics?!! Woah!!) under the cut:)
canine girl is inspired/an au of my oc alík, but i don't think it'd be wrong to say she's a different character alltogether? while the things she struggles with are things that alík does, too, she's more like.. idk ❤️only i can understand this ...
as you may have guessed by her warning, canine girl has violent intrusive thoughts, and feels extremely guilty for them, even if she never acts out on them. her profile doesnt get too into this .. since she feels that guilt and shame, i don't think she'd wanna share the details online .. or with anybody ever.. you know how it is 💥
her design is smth i struggled with greatly .. her mask is this
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and as soon as i saw it on alíks pinterest board i was set on using it and im sooo happy i did!! i think it works greatly..!!! other notable things about her design, that im happy with, are mostly to do with her hoodie. her hoodie-ears are actual ears, shes just hiding them:) and its made to resemble a service dog vest!
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you can't really see it in the 'fake screenshot' art, the first one, but she's got a kind of belt (harness ?) around her chest !! its around her shoulders too.. and her chain hanging from that could be interpreted as a leash ig ?? idk 💥💥you'll never understand sinister minds inner workings... another design-y thing is !! shes got her arms around herself in the fake screenshot, which is bc she's hiding her claws from you 💥her eyes are also made to resemblea wolfs:)
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her pants are just like that bc its alíks fashion sense 💥and bc i think they fit! and i like them!! a little treat just for me:)
another thing that i wanna talk about is her profile!! its so !! chill !! the colours are warm and inviting, her info there is silly, she invites you to talk with her if you're struggling, shes got fun blinkies.. !! shes just having fun on a site hanging out and chilling .. its like that bc i wanted to show, even if in a little way, that intrusive thoughts arent indicative of a persons identity. canine's intrusive thoughts don't make her a bad person, they don't make her a rabid dog like she thinks, they just make her somebody with intrusive thoughts. shes more than her intrusive thoughts, you know ??
anyhow! the lyrics !! i wrote lyrics for a theoretical song that she would have, but Wont, because im not a songwriter. i might make a silly littly tune for her one day, like a minute long at most, most likey shorter, so these lyrics are what you get !! and also it was my second time writing actual lyrics (first time was 10 minutes before when i was writing lyrics for another tptm oc, unknown girl) so Dont be meanies... Ok... treat me niceys... her voice for this would be kohaku merry btw :3
warning, again, more specified this time: themes of violent intrusive thoughts, talk of violence, vague references to generational abuse
That I’m just like a dog, I know Got the leash and collar to show Tug it one way, then another I’ll obey you like no other
But obedience doesn’t cut it With teeth sharper than a razor blade The only way to be is afraid That’s what I say, anyway
Can’t say I’m sorry, not to you That’d scare me, letting you know  About your mangled body on the floor Still just a fantasy, nothing more
(Violent thoughts suppressed) Ineffective muzzle helps little (Violent needs repressed) ‘Cause my razors make it brittle It’s not on purpose, just my spittle Can’t help my second nature
(BEAT ME, FLAY ME, LEAVE ME DEAD PLEASE DO YOUR WORST, I BEG IT WON’T BE UNDESERVING TO BEAT A WILD DOG SENSELESS
GIVE IT YOUR ALL, YOUR EVERYTHING WE BOTH KNOW I’D DO WORSE WERE I NOT A DOG BUT SOMETHING LIKE I AM NOW, JUST SHAMELESS)
The carpet floor’s forever stained A family heirloom of violence and hate Trying so hard to reject that norm Can’t help but feel it’s all I’m destined for
Gotta stop myself with only a collar Can’t be like my father’s bully father So as long as you hold my leash I swear I’ll hide my deepest needs
Even if it’s not real, I fear You’ll reach into me and see All these sinful fantasies Of your bloody arteries I don’t mean them, believe me It’s just that this is all I know how to be A mutt that doesn’t know any better Only to claw and dismember
(Violent thoughts excessed) Maybe it’s just natural selection (Violent needs processed) Can no longer deny this connection That I’m just like a dog, I know Got all this shame to show
Your hands are only ever kind A stark contrast to my mind It’s not real, just thoughts, I know Adrenaline still fills me though
My collar thins, soon it will snap Go away, don’t want you here for that Your kindness is naivety My impending misery Your outstretched hand is prey Don’t say I didn’t warn you  Here comes the prophesised day Where the hand feeds no more
(WITH MY LEASH AND MUZZLE GONE YOU MISTAKE FOR A FAWN YOU THROW MY COLLAR TO THE FLOOR I BEG, PUT IT BACK ON NOT YOUR FAULT, BUT C’MON DON’T BE SO CRUEL AND SHOW ME I’M THE ONLY VICTIM TO MY FANTASY)
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renaultmograine · 2 months
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You reblogged my art with Darion so I found you as someone who knows their Mograine stuff, I am kinda newish to post WotLK lore and I was wondering if there is any info or anything about what Darion looks like post becoming a Horseman because in Legion I remember he got obliterated by the Light and does he still look under the helmet like he used to or is he burned and stuff like Bolvar?
I mean, that's up to personal interpretation, as Blizzard doesn't like including any written lore about the death knights, the two stories we have of them being one that's dubiously canon, and the other not mentioning any real describing details of Darion. He likely wouldn't look burned like Bolvar does, as (dragon) fire and Light are two different types of magic, and the power of the Lich King is that he can restore the body to some extent, seeing as Thoras Trollbane had been dead for around twenty years before being raised, and I don't imagine Stromgarde mummified their kings.
It's also important to remember that Darion has experienced high amounts of exposure to the Light before then, with both his first death were he inadvertently turned himself into a Light orbital strike, and the second attack at Light's Hope, where all the lesser undead are obliterated by the Light and the death knights are incapacitated from it.
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^ Darion's in the middle of that giant Light pillar, and he's raised immediately after his death, though if he's undead before the pillar of Light is gone is again up to your interpretation.
With those two moments in mind, in Silver Hand, Ebon Blade (the first linked story), the only reference to Darion having any real appearance changes to him in undeath (past the glowing eyes) is the fact that crying scars one's face, something that was extrapolated from Sylvanas. Again, the story isn't confirmed canon, so you can take it with a grain of salt, but it's all we really have in terms of death knight lore.
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(Silver Hand, Ebon Blade is really good you should read it)
I do headcanon him with some amount of Light related burns after Legion, though I imagine them to be pale, lightning bolt like scars that trail his body (it's kind of hard to describe and I can't draw, so I don't exactly have a good example for you, sorry!). At the end of the day, though, you can have as much fun with it as you want, and Darion's appearance is so in flux we don't even really know what his hair color is anyway.
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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 6 months
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One thing that always hit me in Bleach fandom is that some people see Hitsugaya as a literal child in the main history, even tho we get glimpses of his childhood - and a lot of Hinamori haters use that as an argument of why hitsuhina would never happen. I particularly see him as a young teenager with an obvious problem of aging (😂) and I’m glad to see blogs just like yours that perceive his youth, but doesn't put him as a kid and also explore his feelings towards things and people who are dear to him in a way really loyal to the character (because putting him acting as an adult also give me awkward vibes, you know). Just a thing I was minding, you can take it as a compliment, I guess.
Sorry for the late reply anon!
I want to start off this response by saying for anyone who does see Toshiro as being a child, more power to them if it helps appreciate his character more.
I have to admit one of the main reason I saw him as a teenager in the beginning is because I was a teen myself when I started reading BLEACH and assumed any character who didn't obviously look like an adult/child/elder or had an ambiguous age was probably a teenager. That's probably a weird reason, but that's how my brain worked while reading BLEACH at that age ^^;
There were other factors too, like his reactions to others referring to him as a child, the flashbacks to his childhood, and that he was able to pass as a student at a high school.
His reactions in particular are what convinced me he's not a child, they struck me as not just someone who was demanding respect for his high ranking position but also as someone who's sick of people thinking he's a child because of his appearance. I've always seen it as because of his short stature and maybe a baby face, everyone mistakes him for being a child when he's actually a teenager.
As for the flashbacks, when I compare his appearance from back then to the one in the main story, to me there's a noticeable different. As a child, his eyes and face are rounded and he's obviously shorter. In the main storyline, his eyes shape changed (perhaps to reflect the change he underwent as a Shinigami), making them look more narrow and sharper, his face is slightly sharper, and he's taller (not by much but).
Then there's the recent revelation from Kubo that Toshiro is actually older than Momo. I've seen most people take this to mean he's literally older than her, which would strongly suggest he isn't a child, because then how old would that make Momo (who is definitely not a child)? If this interpretation is the correct one, then I'm okay with that. However, as I've mentioned before, I've actually taken this to mean he's been in the Soul Society longer than she has (if you're interested, you can read more on it here).
In the end, as stated many times on here, aging in BLEACH is weird. How come Unohana isn't as old looking as Yamamoto if they existed together long before the Soul Society was established? What the heck is going on with Kyouraku and Nanao's families? The list goes on.
Also, thank you for your kind words too, I'm glad that's how my writing comes across for him :D I find it interesting to explore how someone like Toshiro reacts to things, whether they're mundane or life and death situations. While not a child, he's still a minor who has put himself in a world of huge responsibility, and death and violence. How does someone that young, despite being a prodigy and having a mental maturity that's suitable for the role, think and feel about what he does? How does he view those around him? How does it affect his relationships? What kinds of memories does he keep from his past and how are they different someone else his age? It's all interesting to me.
Anyhow, I'll leave it here. Thanks for sending this in! :D
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luxaryllis · 2 years
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Is it okay to ask for a part 2 of the Vil sibling angst, I would prefer if it were more fluff cause the angst tore my heart into two and it desperately needs mending lmao 😭😭
Also it seems that you were kind of setting up for a part two with the Apple farm and all that, does that mean that if we do get a part 2 then Epel will be in it?
You don’t need to answer this ask if you aren’t comfortable answering it, please take your time and your writing is amazing like omg I don’t know how to put it into words lmao sorry if this part feels random I need to vocalize(??) this
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Younger Sibling!Reader Who Doesn't Want To Be Like Him with Vil Schoenheit: Part 2
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Note: HELLO!! And yes, you may request for Part 2!!
And yes, this will have fluff in it!! Fluff AND comfort, actually! But there still will be some angst, especially the end portion-
And I'm glad you liked my fics hehe
I really didn’t expect that people would want a part 2 and continuations and stuff, but here we are haha
Also, please note that Reader (in this series) is 4 years younger than Vil; so they’re 14 as Vil is 18. And Reader does NOT attend NRC (they attend another separate school, whose name will not be mentioned). Also, Rook’s nickname for Reader includes the term, “prince” (because as far as I know, French doesn’t have any gender-neutral royalty terms), but [Name] is still gender-neutral, though!
Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Alternate Endings
Anyway, let’s get to it!!
Editor: @madasme-luxary
Beta-Reader(?): 🐍 anon
Warning/s: Chapter 5 Spoliers, Reader is given a vague appearance description (having similar face shape/eye shape as Vil), Reader is called/referred to as 'prince' (still interpreted as gender-neutral, though), Cussing, Possible OOC, Use of Japanese honorifics, Use of French nicknames, Tell me if I missed anything
---
After a while of crying and slightly calming down, [Name] slowly looks around.
Where were they?
How far are they from the shooting site?
…do they even want to go back?
They take a deep breath and shakily stand up.
Crack!
They suddenly hear a branch crack right behind them. [Name] jumps and looks at the source of the sound.
“Shit”, they hear a voice mutter.
“... Who’s there..?” They reluctantly call out, smoothing out and fixing their appearance.
A person slowly moves out from behind a tree and [Name] gets a good look at them.
The person had beautiful, slightly wavy purple hair and blue eyes. He had a short stature, and seemed to have a more feminine appearance. He was beyond beautiful. Vil would definitely have loved to meet him.
“Uhh.. sorry if I interrupted you but uhh… who are ya? Never seen you 'round here before.” The stranger asks. He had a strange country accent, though then again, the movie was shooting on the outskirts of the Land of Pyroxene.
Other than the stranger's accent, [Name] was also quite..intrigued. This was the first time someone hadn’t known them.
Though it did feel a bit relaxing; this person didn’t recognize them.
Perhaps it was the smudged and messy look they had?
Whatever it was, at least it was a slight moment of relief that the stranger didn't know them.
“My name is [Name]. And you are…?” [Name] asks the stranger after a while.
"Epel. Epel Felmier. Uhh... you okay? I... don't really know what 'appened, but ya don't look so good"
"Oh it's... nothing... my older brother and I just... got into an arguement... That’s all,'' You reply back.
"...ya wanna talk 'bout it?", Epel reluctantly asks. He really wanted to mind his own business, but something about this “[Name]” made him mind himself more than usual. 
"I... don't know... you're probably busy, aren't you?", [Name] asks. Though deep inside, they truly, truly wanted to talk to someone about it.
But they couldn't. Well, they shouldn't. It would ruin the public image of the Schoenheit family, especially Vil's.
"Nah, I'm not so busy", Epel replies as he lightly chuckles, walking up to [Name] and sitting down in front of the trees.
Hesitantly, [Name] does the same. They suppose doing this wouldn't hurt.
"You see.. my older brother is this world famous actor and model.. and nearly my entire life, he's been getting me to attend a bunch of harsh trainings and classes to 'mold me into a better version of myself! He's always forcing those kinds of things onto me, and I've always wanted to tell him off, but never did. “Today, I have had enough of his horrible treatment of me, so I... lashed out at him..." [Name] started to ramble on and on about their older brother, hands moving around in random gestures to emphasize their words.
Epel sat there, silently listening. He could relate. A lot. Vil Schoenheit, the dorm leader of Pomefiore (the dorm Epel was SOMEHOW sorted into), would ALWAYS get Epel to do some beauty stuff like etiquette and makeup, etc. He'd also always make Epel act all nice and prince-like and elegant. It's so annoying.
...
Now that he thinks about it, while listening to [Name] rant and ramble on about their older brother, Epel can't help but notice the similarities between [Name]'s older brother and his Dorm Leader.
[Name]'s older brother seems very similar to Vil; even the obsession with being the most beautiful matches. Not to mention the fact that [Name] seems to be quite identical to Vil. When compared, both their face and eye shape looked so alike with one another.
Also, [Name]'s mannerisms were eerily similar with Vil’s …
Epel's eyes widened. No way- Is... is [Name]...
VIL'S SIBLING?!?!
Epel had also heard Rook talking about a ‘Prince des Douleurs’, who was the one and only younger sibling of 'Roi du Poison' -  Vil.
He doesn't know much about French, but when he searched the title up, he was confused as to what it translated to.
‘Prince des Douleurs’ translates to Prince of Sorrows.
Rather a strange thing to call someone, aye?
But, looking at [Name], Epel starts to understand where Rook was coming from with the nickname. He was still a tad weirded out that Rook might know about this, though.
As [Name] finally stops talking and takes a deep breath to calm down, Epel snaps out of his thoughts and back into reality.
"Man... that sure is a tough life, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"Say.... does your brother happen to be Vil Schoenheit?"
Needless to say, [Name] was surprised. How did Epel know? Will he tell the public about this?!
“Please... don't tell anyone..." they pleaded to Epel. 
They didn't want the public knowing more than they already do.
Some things are meant to be kept away from the eyes and ears of outsiders.
‘Crap…’
‘They shouldn't have trusted Epel, afte-’
"Nah, don't worry. No offense, but I don't like Vil-senpai anyway."
[Name]'s thoughts were interrupted by Epel's words.
'E-eh...?'
"Y-you what...?"
"Yeah, I study at NRC with Vil-senpai. He's also my dorm leader. I don't really like him. He forces me to do all this training and etiquette stuff and it's annoying!! I wanna be a man and grow muscles and be all buff!! Not be some little weakling princess! Not only that- but he's always...", Epel goes on and on and on about Vil, leaving [Name] to listen carefully, just as he did for them.
While listening, [Name] notices how common both of them saw Vil. Along with their experiences with him. It makes them feel... not so alone as they thought.
After all, who would dare speak aloud, their distaste for someone like Vil Schoenheit, especially in front of his sibling.
But Epel... not only did he listen to [Name], he even shared his own feelings about Vil and  though he probably didn't know about it, it made [Name] feel very relieved to be understood.
After a while, [Name] and Epel continued to converse with each other. Moving from topic to topic. Never really staying on one for too long.
Epel invited [Name] to stay over when they noticed that the sun was setting. Reluctantly, [Name] agreed.
[Name] met Epel's grandparents and they welcomed [Name] with open arms. They allowed them to stay the night and even prepared food for them.
It made [Name] feel... at home. Which, to them, is quite strange. They don't know these people at all, and they didn’t know [Name] either. But they were still welcomed with open arms. 
It also gave them a lot of perspective. [Name] never really had an opinion on apples, but with the amount of apples around the place, especially those being served to them, they couldn’t help but find apples as a symbolism for the hospitality they received.
---
Meanwhile,  Vil is running around the place, calling out for his sibling.
He's been looking around for them since they ran away. Sweat messing up his hair and makeup.
But good looks be damned. He would care less about it all, if it meant he could find his sibling.
Vil wanted to talk to them and apologize. He wanted to make sure that they were doing okay. Who knows what could have happened to them?
Vil slows down as he pants and wipes away his sweat with a handkerchief.
Vil looks around to see if [Name] is anywhere near, but sees no sign of them. He sighs in exhaustion and worry.
His mind goes back to what they said to him.
"Okay, alright?! I get it!! You don't have to keep telling me this a million times! Don't you understand that I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE YOU"
“Acting isn't what I want to do in life if it's YOU in there! Modelling is a 'no' for me if YOU are there. I'm sick and TIRED of having to put up with how you act! My life is NOT about you! It is NOT! Why can't you understand...?"
...
'I messed up... I really messed up... I... I truly THOUGHT that what I was doing was for [Name]'s good... but... look at where we are now…’
'Damn it... you strive to be like the Beautiful Queen, and to be the most beautiful of all. But you have shown such an unsightly and ugly side of you...'
'You strive to be the hero for once... but paint yourself as the villain in your own sibling's eyes in the process...'
'So ugly... so horrifying... so disgusting...'
Vil berates himself in his thoughts, guilt and shame breaking him apart.
He wishes that he could just turn back time to stop his past self from doing all of this. If he had, his sibling wouldn't have been hating him like this.
Vil continues berating and cursing himself as he continues to look for his sibling, even asking other people if they have seen them.
Vil didn't care that the public saw him like this. If his sibling could be in possible danger, everything, even his image, can be damned.
---
It's been a few weeks and days, and the Schoenheit family has asked the public to help find their youngest. The days go by, and no one seems to have any good news on where [Name] could be.
Everyone (including the Schoenheit family and their fans) have been actively searching for [Name], being very worried for the young teen.
All to no avail; no one has seen even a sign of them.
It's only a few days until the end of Winter break and Vil is currently pacing around worried.
Mr. Schoenheit is seated on one of the couches in the living room, his knee bouncing in anticipation.
Both men have worried frowns on their faces, thinking about the well-being of their child/sibling.
Vil has already told his father about what had happened. Vil received a scolding, but it didn't last long, as Mr. Schoenheit let it go quite easily. That doesn't mean he isn’t disappointed at Vil about it, but he decides to focus on his youngest child before dwelling on the past.
They both suddenly hear the doorbell and both rush to the door in a hurry.
Vil opens the door and the sight in front of him makes his eyes widen.
There stands his dear younger sibling, [Name], with Epel Felmier and an older woman next to them.
Vil doesn't mind the two, and focuses solely on his younger sibling.
Words move to his mouth, but no matter how much he wants to say it, it's as if something is keeping his mouth shut.
Vil opens the door wider and the moment Mr. Schoenheit sees [Name], he gasps and moves past Vil to embrace them.
[Name] softly yelps at the sudden embrace, but hugs their father back, finding his hug comforting.
"You're safe. Oh, thank the Sevens, you're safe. We were so, so worried about you, [Nickname].", Mr. Schoenheit says softly, burying his head to the crook of his child's neck, already crying.
"My grandson, Epel had found the child in our apple orchard and brought them to our home. We’ve been housing them ever since and they decided that it was about time they came home.”
“I’m truly sorry for not giving you any notice and potentially worrying you. [Name] said not to just yet and they still seemed pretty shaken up at the time so I refrained from contacting you.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m just glad that my child is alright. Thank you so much for taking care of them. Please, take this as compensation.”
“Oh dear, no, we can’t possibly take so much money!”
“Please, I insist. It’s the least I could do.”
---
Vil stands there, his hands slightly twitching, staring at [Name] after the father-child duo pull away from the hug.
He has so much he wants to say to them...
He truly, truly wants to hug them, but is afraid they might be uncomfortable with that.
The words exchanged by the other people go through one ear and out the other for both Vil and [Name] as they silently (and awkwardly) stare at each other.
[Name] takes a deep breath, oh dear... this will be one long day...
---
The family of three sit at the dinner table, silently eating dinner.
No one knows what to say, and if they do, they don't know how to say it.
[Name] takes another deep breath, and opens their mouth. It's now or never, they suppose.
"I... I am very sorry for running away and causing such a commotion. I... hope you can accept my apology...", [Name] says, catching the other two's attention.
"Oh... oh no, my child... your brother and I should be the ones apologizing."
"W-wha... but I-"
"No, [Name]. Dad is right. I forced so much on you, and neither of us noticed how much you were suffering. I hope you can allow us to try to be better."
[Name] was surprised at what Vil and their father said.
They take a deep breath, the two other at the table also taking a deep breath of anticipation.
'Am I ready to let it go, though...? I... I want to be on better terms with them but...'
"I... I... need some... time to uhh... think about that... I just... need some space and time to myself... if that’s... okay.. with you..."
[Name] slowly says to their dad and older brother.
Vil and Mr. Schoenheit nod in understanding. While they were quite saddened that [Name] didn’t want to try immediately, but they understood that it would take some time for them to come around.
The duo mentally decided to give the child some space and time for themselves, not without reminding them that they’re here for them, though.
The Winter Break ended like that.
Unfortunately, [Name] hasn’t gotten around to open up to Vil or their dad, but both are patient and are willing to wait however long.
Both [Name] and Vil leave for their respective schools, this time, with no hard feelings or anything.
---
Vil looks at his phone in contemplation. His group’s song, Absolutely Beautiful playing in the background as some members of the NRC Tribe continue practicing on their own.
“Roi du Poison? May I ask what on your phone has you looking so tentative?”, Rook’s voice calls out to him, making Vil look up at his vice.
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. I was simply thinking if I should invite [Name] to the VDC or not.”, Vil replies as he looks back down on his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard and eyes silently checking his message.
“Ah! I’m sure Prince des Douleurs would LOVE to watch their cher frère perform with his group!”, Rook encourages.
“Oh yeah!! My siblings are coming over to watch the VDC and they’re really excited to watch Jamil and I perform, right Jamil?”, Kalim speaks up from where he stood in the room.
“Kalim, please don’t barge into conversations you aren’t a part of; and don’t bring me into them either. *sigh* But I agree; Najma, my sister, is coming over to watch and she seemed pretty excited. Although you and your sibling’s relationship might not be the same as ours or Kalim’s with his.”, Jamil says, scolding Kalim before turning back to Vil as he continues dancing.
“...”, Epel stays quiet. He does know that [Name] might want to see their older brother as they still kept in contact through texting.
While he wants Vil to know that [Name] would gladly watch his performance, he wants to see what Vil would do.
During the time Epel has known [Name], he’s grown quite attached to them. Epel started to see them as a younger sibling figure for him. He wants to see them happy. Before, he thought Vil was being very unreasonable (with his treatment to both him and [Name]), but now that he sort of knows more and can vaguely see Vil’s point of view, Epel supposes that [Name] could try giving Vil a chance to explain.
While Epel doesn’t purely agree with Vil, Epel can see how much Vil cares about the wellbeing of others, especially [Name]. Though Epel does have a hard time still seeing Vil’s care for others sometimes; he does know that Vil really does. Vil has a sort of ‘tough love’ kind of attitude, and is really strict and harsh on others. Vil gives credit where credit is due, and will give criticism where criticism is due. And Epel respects that about Vil; he isn’t overly hard on everyone, but isn’t overly soft either.
“Not to mention, I would LOVE to see the Prince des Douleurs again. It’s been a while since I have seen them, after all.”
Rook knew about what had happened between the Schoenheit siblings; Epel even told him about it. While Rook sees the beauty in Vil’s work to try making [Name] the best self they can, he also sees the beauty in [Name]’s willingness to forgo their comfort and happiness for their older brother’s.
Nevertheless, he is aware that it isn’t very healthy for [Name], and is glad that Vil is trying to come to terms with [Name]. He is also very happy that the two aren’t making such a big fuss over it.
As the Chasseur d'Amour, Rook wants to find a way for his queen, Vil Schoenheit, to get the “happy ending” he deserves. Not to mention, the prince of sorrows, [Name] Schoenheit, has been suffering and in sorrow for quite a while.
So, Rook will try the best he can do to bring the Schoenheit family back together.
Vil hums and nods after a while. He takes Kalim’s, Jamil’s and Rook’s words into consideration and decides to send the message to his sibling.
---
A few days later, it's the date of the VDC, also known as the Vocal and Dance Competition.
[Name] looks at the entrance to the VDC venue.
The VDC is a world-famous tournament where each school’s best singers partake in. The performers usually come in groups, and have the audience vote for the winner. It’s also known for usually being a good place for a “debut” for aspiring singers and dancers.
They take a deep breath and walk towards the entrance.
Looking around they notice that the place does look pretty similar as it was last year, and the year before.
Nothing much is new, [Name] thinks to themselves as they walk around.
Their phone goes off and they take out the phone from their bag and check it.
A call from Vil.
They answer it and put their phone next to their ear.
"Hello?"
"[Name], hi."
"Hi."
[Name] tightens their lips together at their awkward response.
"Do you think it's alright if you can come visit us on the site? Rook, Epel and I would like to see how you are faring."
"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, sure. I'm heading towards the stage anyway."
"Ah, I see. Very well, you're free to come in at the dry run. We’d be happy to have you."
"Alright. Thank you, Vil."
"Of course. Stay safe, and enjoy the VDC."
Beep.
[Name] puts their phone back in their bag and continues their way over to the stage where the dry run will happen in hopes of getting a little glimpse.
They've done this the past 2 years and have been let in, so [Name] doesn't expect much disturbances.
---
As Vil looks around the stage, he sees the judges, the staff, and other contestants.
He looks back to the NRC Tribe, who are all preparing for the dry run, and takes a deep breath.
Then, at the corner of his eyes, he sees his younger sibling entering the venue.
[Name] nods at him and Vil nods back, and goes back to warming up.
"Whoa!! It's THE [Name] Schoenheit!!", a preppy voice shouts out, startling everyone in the vicinity.
Looking to the source, Vil is annoyed to see his "enemy" and "rival", Neige LeBlanche.
Neige smiles widely and moves to where [Name] is, gently grabbing their hand and shaking it quite rapidly.
"I am SUCH a big fan of you and your work!! I know we've both been on the same works multiple times, but I've never been able to actually approach you. But do you think I could get an autograph? A picture too! Waaa, this is a dream come true for me!", Neige excitedly says, still shaking [Name]'s hand.
[Name] blinks once. And twice. Then they snap back into reality. "A-ah. Yes, I am [Name] Schoenheit. And uhh... thank you, your works are also quite remarkable as well. And yes, you may have an autograph and picture."
Vil's eyes narrow at the sight before him. His sibling and enemy taking pictures and exchanging phone numbers, and even talking very well.
“Hmph... you can only smile for now. I will defeat you with my perfect performance, Neige.”, Vil says to himself.
Rook and Epel notice Vil's expression and look at each other in worry.
Kalim also jumps up and runs to [Name], also asking for a picture and autograph, which [Name] gladly does.
In Vil's head, there's a small seed of thought planted inside him. The thought saying, 'Even [Name] likes Neige more than me, their own brother...'
---
During the dry-run, Vil can't help but watch his sibling's reaction quite intently as Neige's group performs.
Vil is quite appalled to have seen his sibling gently bobbing their head to Neige and his little friends singing 'Heigh Ho'.
And while they did seem to enjoy the NRC Tribe's performance, Vil can't help but focus on that positive reaction they had to Neige.
The seed of thought and doubt quickly sprouts to even more.
And watching [Name] join in on the standing ovation that Neige's group was given made it grow faster.
"The familiarity of Neige-san's song makes for a good way to have everyone else enjoy and even bring up nostalgia for some.", [Name] says, voicing out their thoughts about the performance.
That was it.
Something in Vil snapped.
So...
Even his sibling preferred Neige over him, huh?
Well then...
So be it.
---
As they were drinking some water, [Name] suddenly felt that something was wrong.
They look around but see nothing wrong, except...
Vil and Neige were both gone...
[Name]'s eyes widen and think back to how much Vil dislikes (and possibly even hates) Neige.
Taking into account Vil’s expertise in poisons and potions, not to mention his Unique Magic, [Name] feels that something bad is going to happen.
Especially to Vil.
They quickly pack their bags and excuse themselves, trying to get backstage.
A staff worker blocks them from entering, however, “I’m so sorry, however only performers are allowed in the backstage halls.”
“A-ah... alright then... apologies...”, [Name] says, slowly backing away and bowing.
They turn around and leave. They look around for a secluded place and find a small corner nearby. They quickly close their eyes and envision one of the staff members working on stage.
“What you fear, I fear. What you like, I like. What you hate, I hate. We are both one and one in total. Now... {I Am You}.”, [Name] chants, taking a deep breath as their appearance slowly shifts into the staff member on their mind.
---
Yes, this was [Name]’s Unique Magic, {I Am You} allows [Name] to turn into someone else.
It allowed [Name] to be originally unoriginal. Shapeshifting seems like an important and useful skill and ability to have.
And [Name] would have agreed.
If it weren’t for the fact that it constantly reminded them how useless they are. How they only have to use their Unique Magic to be someone else.
Perhaps, they were being themselves, by being someone else.
A “copycat”, through and through.
Using their Unique Magic for longer than a certain amount of time was very taxing, though. Sometimes, it would accumulate more blot, other times, it would cause some other form of pain (sometimes even physical pain). Going past a certain time limit can cause pressure being exerted on [Name] or exhaustion, getting sick, etc..
After all, pain is beauty, and beauty is pain.
---
They open their eyes, taking in their new appearance, before quickly going back to the entrance of the backstage waiting room.
The staff member looks at them and lets them in. [Name] brisk walks and looks around for their older brother.
“I came here because I wanted to have a proper conversation with you.”
[Name] stops at the familiar voice, recognizing it as Vil.
“Yeah! I was thinking the same too!”
[Name]’s eyes widen at the sound of Neige.
Oh no...
They quickly deactivate their Unique Magic, as it was already going past the 2 minute mark they set for themselves. Their appearance slowly shifts back to their original one.
Silently sighing in relief of not having the pressure on them anymore, [Name] goes back to the conversation, peeking through a pillar to listen in.
“I wanted to give you a delicious apple juice. It’s my current favorite...”, Vil says, holding up a small bottle of those apple juices from Epel’s hometown, Harveston.
Oh right, Vil recently promoted Harveston’s apple juice on Magicam, didn’t he?
“Oh! It’s the one you uploaded on Magicam, right? I’ve always wanted to try it once, I’m so happy! Thank you, Vi-kun!!”, Neige excitedly thanked Vil for the apple juice.
[Name] looks closer at the bottle of apple juice. They silently mutter a spell that allows them to check any traces of magic on something or someone.
Focusing even more at the bottle, they notice some magic on it. Magic that was obviously Vil’s Unique Magic, {Fairest One Of All}.
[Name]’s eyes widened. Oh no. It’s poisoned!
“Here, please enjoy your drink.”, Vil says as he holds out the apple juice to Neige, a strangely smug and twisted smile on his face. Vil’s expression unfortunately goes unnoticed by Neige.
‘No! Neige don’t!’, [Name] shouts to Neige in their head, silently moving out of their hiding place.
“I will. Thanks!”, Neige says, about to take a sip.
[Name] opens their mouth to call for Vil, or Neige, but was interrupted by someone who seemed to have similar intentions.
“Neige-kun!”
[Name] stops at where they stood, silently hiding back behind the pillar, looking at who called out to Neige.
[Name] could barely hear the conversation, only little bits and pieces. From what they’re seeing, Rook is... GETTING THE APPLE JUICE FROM NEIGE?!
Oh.. okay... he’s... Rook is going to dispose of it, won’t he?
Yeah... phew. [Name] mentally sighs in relief at the Pomefiore Vice Dorm Leader’s intervention.
They still couldn’t hear much, but Rook’s expression seemed to be getting a bit more firm and harder.
Suddenly, Rook shouted, “NOW GO! HURRY UP!!”
[Name] flinches at the sudden increase in volume but quickly recovers.
They see Neige running away.
Okay... so now, Rook should get rid of that apple juice immediately!
[Name] sees Rook bringing the poisoned apple juice to his lips, about to take a sip.
"NO! ROOK!!"
“NO!”
[Name] doesn’t know what they did, but their body suddenly moved and then the apple juice is on the ground. And they're suddenly between Vil and Rook.
They look right next to them and see Kalim Al-Asim. The other boy who had asked for their autograph and stuff.
"Ah! Roi D-Or!! Prince des Douleurs!! And Grim and the prefect are here too!", Rook exclaims.
"Kalim, [Name], why did you both knock off the bottle Rook was holdin' just now?!"
Kalim pants, "I...made it on time..!"
[Name] looks at Kalim confused.
"What are you doing...?", Vil asks. To Rook, to Kalim, or to [Name], not even Vil himself knows.
Suddenly, a dark green, toxic substance starts bubbling and emitting gas. It was coming from the apple juice Vil poisoned.
"Fgnya!?! The apple juice that spilled on the ground is turning into a bubbly poisonous-looking green liquid!!", the monster shouts.
'Yeah... way to point out the obvious', [Name] silently sasses the monster in their head, bringing out a handkerchief and placing it to their mouth.
"This is the juice that you cast your Unique Magic on, right?", the white-haired boy asks, strangely serious.
Shouts of confusion and shock come from the managers of the NRC Tribe.
[Name] tunes out the conversation, opting to rummaging around their bag for something to cover up everyone else's mouths and noses.
Hearing Vil's rampage makes [Name] want to cry and get angry again. But they hold it in.
They finally find clean handkerchiefs and hand it to the others, not uttering a single word.
"Why? I wanted to become the most beautiful one in the world, but why am I so... ugly, ugly, ugly!?", Vil shouts, anguish in his voice.
[Name] flinches but steels themselves.
"Vil!! Please! You know what could happen if you go any further!! No one's hurt, everyone's okay! But if you go any further than this, we can't say the same anymore!!", [Name] shouts to their brother, making all attention snap back at them.
"I understand that you want to be beautiful, I really do!! But what you're doing right now isn't something a truly beautiful person would do!!", they continue, mouth slightly muffled from the handkerchief covering their mouth.
"No... that's right... that's what I want. If there is no one else in the world, I WILL BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONE!!"
Ink gushes around Vil and [Name] is at a loss of what to do.
The ink slightly clears up and [Name] sees Vil in a different appearance.
No... Vil has actually gone into overblot...
"The pain won't last for a very long time. Your life is going to end soon. Your blood will freeze. And you won't wake up again. AHAHAHAHA!", Vil says, voice distorted and insane.
[Name] feels their body frozen from the shock, fear, and stress they're experiencing.
After all, overblots are a rare and dangerous phenomenon. There isn't a guarantee anyone would be alive at this point...
No... no, no, no...
'I'm scared... someone... anyone... please...'
[Name] was only 14 years old. Far too young to have been experiencing this much pain. Far too young to have to be experiencing so much at once.
There's too much going on. Everything and everyone's so loud.
Stop it, stop it please.
'Someone... someone help me...'
Everything goes black for [Name].
---
END!
Alright then!! Did I end in another cliffhanger? Yes, yes I did.
Like my other Younger Sibling!Reader fic, there will be alternative endings. 2 of which will be happy and 2 will be sad.
Apologies for the long wait!!
Thank you for all the support so far!
Comments and feedback are very much appreciated!! 💙
Also, thanks so much to my best friend, @madasme-luxary, who helped edit my work hehe. Also to 🐍 anon for helping me out! Thanks you guys!! 💙💙
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paperlovesadness · 1 year
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"Shavambacu" - Miles Kane song theory
Back at it again! I truly didn't expect the positive feedback I'd gotten from my previous (Star Treatment) theory - so encouraged by it all I'm giving this another go. Join me as I unleash my crazy thoughts! Disclaimer: Some of these little interpretations are a little bit out there. But this is all in the name of good fun. And I'm not at all claiming that I believe this is actually true. It's just what I feel when I listen to it.
Ghost eyes fall upon my baby doll Ghost eyes love to watch me too Ghost eyes don't say much but they see it all, yeah
Alright - let's start at the basis of this little theory. The way I interpret the "ghost eyes". Ghost eyes - someone observing you, while remaining unseen. They're in a way present in your life, but not literally. And you can only feel/assume their presence. Along with the other lyrics (I'll expand on this below) of this song I see these eyes as belonging to a woman, who is currently involved with someone Miles was involved with / there was a period they were involved with them at the same time (so implied cheating)
Maybe this is getting to specific - but I also feel this may involve social media? I'll explain later. So, overall: Miles is involved with someone - his "baby doll". A few observations - the term isn't gendered. Doll - puppet? (it's a stretch). Doll/baby doll is also kind of a retro term of enderament. Personally it kind of transports me to like a US 1950s/greaser era (there's even a 1956 movie titled "Baby doll"). And the greaser persona brings to mind one person, doesn't it? (yes, Alex Turner) The woman sees and knows everythings that's going on/went on, but is silent about it, chooses to ignore.
Ghost eyes sleep beside my baby doll All night when I'm in bed with you
Okay, so either this is just again emphasizing that this is some sort of affair/non-monogamous deal: Miles spends the night with the person, but it's the woman who falls asleep next to them on a daily basis. Or, again: Miles is sleeping with this person, but the woman keeps her thoughts on them through it all. Knows everything. Maybe also quite literally - Miles is in bed with "baby doll", and beside them, on the bedside table lays the phone, that's 'home' to the ghost eyes. (This sounds super complicated, I'm sorry! Hope it's understandable)
Sunrise never sets on baby doll
Baby doll isn't just an anonymous person. They're known - people observe them, talk about them all over the world. Thus - the sun never sets on baby doll. Someone is always writing, talking, thinking about or listening to them. (Heartthrob frontman of a famous band? *wink wink*)
Her ghost tears, some call it rain Well I'm crying for just one name
This hurts the woman. But Miles also only cares about baby doll - it's the only name that truly matters to him.
I made it up in a dream I had My French is bad, some say "Je t'aime beaucoup" I say, my darling "Shavambacu"
So the story from an interview goes: Miles took "shavambacu" from his mum, who used it as a term of enderament - learning it from his grandma. Turned out she just misheard "Je t'aime beaucoup" in a song she loved. ANYWAY - it's a family-derived term of enderment Miles said he used it with the ex, who inspired the CDG album. Seems like a big deal honestly, to use such a significant term with someone. Had to be someone super special. (both shavambacu and little darling aren't gendered either)
Also, if we're talking Alex (that's how I see it) - I've thought a lot about how Miles may be using french phrases and references in his songs when talking about him? Because of how special France was to them (french countryside; recording their first TLSP album together). See: Coup de Grace, TLSP's Everything you've come to expect and how they chose to cover Paris Summer (I really feel there was more? My mind went blank though). Alex is also kind of obsessed with France/french cinema/old french music etc.
I can't stand to see another day I'm not in L.A. to have my way with you My little darling shavambacu, oh honey I love you
First off - this is so tender, I could cry. Also: person lives in LA (checks out for that time period) Honey - still no gendered terms. They're apart - either just because Miles isn't the main partner - but more probable - they're not continuing with the romantic part of their relationship (cause you know. This is a breakup album after all)
Her ghost eyes float around my empty room They're your eyes, but I can't tell it's you
Guys, I know this might sound ridiculous - it's just what my mind automatically went to when I first heard this song. So I'll just share: This part is why my mind went to social media. The woman follows Miles and watches him closely - everything he posts. BUT - this could also be her boyfriend - who uses her account (anonimity? doesn't have social media himself?) to see what he's up to now, as they're apart. But he couldn't tell, he just sees it's her account.
Well I try, but I can't see for baby doll Her ghost tears, some call it rain Well I'm crying for just one name
It's either continuing on the last thing - he can't know who it is keeping tabs on him. Or: he tries but can't care about anybody besides this one person, loves them too much. And then we have the dadada's / chorus bits for the outro. What do you guys think? I feel like if I tried I could have many more interpretations of the "ghost eyes". Like this one: Maybe it's not the girl at all? Maybe it's the audience - the fans, media: everyone who is involved in their lives due to them being famous. No matter how much they hide their relationship someone might be there to see it. They do - there's theories about them being together floating all over the internet already. They see it all. So it's hard to stay together if they wanted it to be anonymous. Eyes are always on them. These are my main ones: just stuff I felt/popped into my mind back when I was listening to the album for the first time. I'd be super happy if you shared any of your own theories on this song! Hope to do more MK/TLSP/AM theories soon. Peace & love!
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purrble-archive · 2 years
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Forgot to do it again day 25- favorite agent? 4!!!!!!!! 4 4 4 four. Thats my favorite. There's um not a lot of official artwork of male four, (bc that's the gender my vers of four is) so here
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thats the player character for the solo hero mode in splapoon 2. Of course 4 can look like anything since you play as them and change your character to whatever skin, hair, eye type and color. But this is how they're generally recognized as in the devs and most people's minds .
A lot of people say the 2 story mode was really weak, wasn't as good as the first and in fact felt like a boring repetition of it. And well. Yeah they're right . But since 2 was my first introduction to the hero mode I'm biased. Theres a lot that could of been fixed about it but whatever!
4's my favorite because in my head they got layers. So many layers. They're described as a silent squid, they seem to have a good work ethic and originally, before winding up at octo valley face to face with THE Marie, they had no idea who the idols even were. So to me my 4 is like .. this guy whose a bit of a workaholic and lives under a rock. Also maybe a little bad at socializing due to this. Stuff like that.
There's also a line Marie says when you catch her around whichever level area you're in and you go talk to her, where she's like, "you remind me of 3, but older, and you smell better" SOMETHING like that, like, implying 3 doesn't damn shower. But its funny. I think it adds to 4s personality a bit.. he's not as impulsive, a little.more responsible than the others.
I know my interpretation is a litttleeee out there bc most people like to make them super happy, chill and funny and silly... But I think he can be that way too, just,... Maybe not with everyone. I think he's really sort of attached to the hip with Marie, kinda clingy. So that's really the first person he's ever been that way with. He looks up to and respects her a lot I think.
Sorry. I like referring to the agents generally with they/them pronouns bc like I said they can be anything, but since I started talking Abt my version of them I might as well.. u knkw use the pronouns i see them in my head using.
Um. 4 my beloved. 3 Jr (the splap 3 player character in hero mode) might be second favorite, though. I think the next story mode is gonna really be something special.
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onceupona-chaos · 3 years
Text
Cassian and Azriel's reactions to the Archeron sisters
Everything will be supported by the text. English is not my first language, so sorry for any possible mistakes. Be kind and respectful!
I will begin this post with the scene that was the starting point of my thoughts.
The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink.
Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket.
Very often Azriel and Cassian show the same reaction to the sisters (in this case, they go still). The scene above is a perfect example of that and of how SJM is always very faithful to the differences between the couples: there's a difference of personality, which will be the one I'll focus here, and of "romantic status". Differently from Nessian, Elain and Azriel were in love with different people when they met each other. We don't know what was their first impression of each other yet, but with this in mind and considering their personalities, makes sense that they needed to get close first, trust each other, and then develop feelings (SJM writes slow burns after all).
Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.
“I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.
In their very first meet, the males were paying attention to each Archeron, but the way they were focusing on them is different. Look at the wording:
sizing up, warrior, opponent;
attention, polite smile;
While Cassian and Nesta "size each other up like opponents" and are loud/rough in terms of personality, Azriel and Elain are both quieter and acting like peacemakers. Here, please remember Feyre noticing how their personalities are similar:
Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.
Basically while Cassian is always provoking Nesta, Azriel puts Elain at ease, because there's a difference of personality. It makes perfect sense that one of them is "enemies-to-lovers" and the other is "friends-to-lovers". Let's go back to the first scene:
“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.
Even though Cassian and Azriel's first instinct is the same (they go still), how they proceed is again different (Azriel extends his hand like a gentleman and Cassian is all cocky grins).
Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. (...) “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off.
“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” (...) “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”
Just like Cassian, Azriel offered a blade to an Archeron sister so she could defend herself. Again, let's look at the wording:
Cassian pressed the one of his knives;
Azriel pressed the hilt of the legendary blade;
And again, Cassian: cocky, provokes Nesta; Azriel: softly, gently, puts Elain at ease. Of course, in the TT scene there's much more imagery (Light and Dark/ Death and the Fawn/ the fact that TT is not just one of Azriel's blades), but still both males have the same reaction when Nesta and Elain are about to face danger: they need to be able to defend themselves, so the males provide a blade.
From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”
They were speaking, Azriel with some urgency, but Cassian didn’t hear him, heard nothing but the roaring in his head before he said to no one in particular, “I’m going after them.”
They also have the same reaction when the sisters are in danger. As I said before: their first reaction is very similar or even the same in some cases. The major difference here is that we have Cassian's PoV and not Azriel's, but the similarities are so clear:
Unspoken debate = said to no one in particular
I'm getting her back = I'm going after them
Firstly it seems the males are lost in thoughts, so concern about the females, and then they declare they're going to rescue them.
“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.
“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him.
It is also very interesting to notice how Cassian and Azriel are the ones that can intervene when the females are "experiencing" their powers. It's like Nesta and Elain use them as some kind of anchor - they both are "lost" in their powers, but can focus on Cassian and Azriel. If Cassian can help Nesta do a scrying, it's Azriel who listen and gets that Elain is a Seer.
Now one of my favorite parallels:
“Are you … happy?” Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. “I’m getting there.” A halfhearted answer. (Cassian, ACOFAS)
Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. (Azriel, ACOSF)
Exact same wording. In ACOFAS, Cassian was struggling with his situation with Nesta, and in ACSF it's Azriel who is suffering because of his situation with Elain.
Speaking of ACOFAS, let me highlight this moment:
Nightmares about the moment when Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.
I just find very interesting how the two biggest moments between the couples are brought up here. SJM could had just said Elain killed the king with TT, but she chose to associate that moment with Azriel (she does that very often). Anyway, moving on...
Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”
Cassian and Azriel looked to Rhys, who merely sipped from his own wine.
Here, we have the males reacting to the females getting involve with the Trove (Azriel stiffened/ Cassian growled); then Amren speaks with Cassian about Nesta, and with Azriel about Elain; then both males look to Rhysand
And of course (I'll be brief because there are lots of posts about these lines):
Stupid, stupid, stupid— He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his—
It was so wrong. He didn't care. He needed to know what her skin tasted like (...) Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.
In both bonus chapters, Cassian and Azriel "don't care" about the possible problems and struggles, all they care about is the female before them. Not only the wording is the same, but in both cases the couples almost kiss.
That's the formula right there.
(Her scent) It hit him in the gut so hard he could barely focus, and it took five centuries of training to make himself meet her eyes rather than let his own roll back into his head.
Her arousal drifted up to him and his eyes nearly roll back into his head at sweet scent.
Basically the way these two are affected by the Archeron sisters is practically the same in both bonus chapters. Speaking of that:
I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.
Three days passed with no word from Cassian. He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.
Cassian in the next morning was still affected by what happened in Wings & Embers, and Azriel - three days later - was still affected by what happened in his bonus chapter. Not only that: these are the only direct references to the bonus chapters in the actual books. The major difference here is that SJM wrote Elain as Azriel's secret, so only the readers that have access to the bonus chapter know why he couldn't even smile (very similar to "Cassian only snarled"). Naturally there's a difference of personality, too: Cassian snarling, totally pissed off/ Azriel more aloof, stone-faced.
It's very clear the direction SJM is going.
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oliviayamaoka · 3 years
Text
The Distraction (Danny Johnson / Jed Olsen / Ghostface x Reader)
Y/N encounters Ghostface, a snarky and creepy silent killer. However, he isn’t as silent as he is made out to be when you hit him with your toolbox in defense. To stall time for your survival and the progression of other generators, you decide to humor him and distract him for a long amount of time for the others.
Possible Warning: Sexual tension, slight blood, slight violence, and Danny having perverted thoughts (up to your interpretation on what he’s thinking)
You slowly vaulted over a wooden structure within Autohaven Wreckers. The green atmosphere felt very chilling and eerie, you didn’t like doing your trials in this realm. Your eyes averted to an untouched generator. Thank the Entity you didn’t hear a chainsaw revving or the menacing lullaby sung by the Huntress. Y/N kneeled down and began to work on the generator, putting their toolbox to the side. Who knew you’d become a mechanic of some sort within the Fog. 
“Shit.” You mumble as you cut your arm slightly on something within it. For a moment you had considered using your toolbox but it was better to just save it for another time.
Y/N sighed and pulled down a lever before reattaching some wires. The generators always confused you. Not in a way where you didn’t know how to fix them but how the hell did they power up the exit gates? Oh well, it didn’t matter at that point. You were forced to do this by a literal god. 
You suddenly gasped when you felt a firm grip pry you away from your generator. It must’ve been the killer. Y/N aggressively fought back and wiggled with desperate grunts and yells. You somehow managed to escape his grip, how the hell didn’t you hear him? You shoved him away but he grabbed your wrist tightly.
“Let go!” You yelled, hitting him as hard as you could since he seemed to have dropped his knife. You recognized the killer as Ghostface. He didn’t seem to think that you’d be able to get away the first time. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and curiosity when she heard him darkly chuckle in amusement
“You’re like that bastard King.” He said to you as you both struggled. David was always verbal when ”fighting” the killers. He grunted as you kicked at his thigh, desperately trying to rip your arm away from him. 
“Since when did you start talking?” You asked him, humoring him in pure panic. Ghostface was a bit thrown off that you even responded instead of screaming at the top of your lungs. In fact, he doesn’t recall anybody saying anything back to him other than David King or Yui Kimura saying something snarky after a successful vault.
“You’d be surprised--agh!” He grunted as you smashed your toolbox into his face as hard as you could. This definitely threw him off since it hurt just as much as the pallet stuns did. Was that even allowed? He adjusted his mask to keep it from falling off. His chin sure as hell hurt.
“Sorry.” Y/N said to him almost immediately, stopping for a moment. You weren’t sure why you felt sorry for the bastard in that moment. You once did something similar with the Trapper when he accidentally stepped in his own trap, there was a moment of silence between the two of you as you both stared.
“What do you mean sorry?!” He asked you angrily but he didn’t lunge or hit you. He seemed just as confused and caught up in the moment as you. You threw your arms up in defense, it was a psychological thing.
“It was instinctual! What was I supposed to do, let you stab and hook me?” You said to him as he stood up. Ghostface was much taller up close, it was strange.
“Well, yeah. You’re only supposed to fucken wiggle or try get off of the hook. It said those were the rules.” He argued as you turned your head to the side in disbelief at his behavior. 
“Since when did you start abiding by the rules? Aren’t you supposed to be a serial killer or something?” Y/N questioned him.
“Uhhh, since that thing started torturing the other people who got trapped here. You think I wanna look like that fuckface with the chainsaw?” He said aggressively but you didn’t seem to back down at all. He was referring to the Hillbilly.
“He already looked like that, dumbass.” You say to him as he paused.
“Oh.” Ghostface responded before shaking his head to knock some sense into himself and began to try grab your wrist again. he tugged you closer when he did rather aggressively.
“What the fuck am I doing arguing with my prey.” He muttered as you pulled away again, taking a few steps back.
Ghostface, from your observation, was easily confused when talking to people. You figured it was normal since, well, when the hell did a psycho like him have time to talk to people? You recalled a conversation with Ace when you were upset due to one of your first trials. He had been previously married and referred to himself as a ladykiller, humoring the idea of trying to flirt with the Huntress. He was a wise dude despite being on the run from guys he owed money to, overall he made a good replacement father figure for a moment.
Clearly it was a bad idea but maybe instead of getting hooked or hurt, you could do what Ace jokingly suggested. It’d also be a funny story to tell some of your friends when this trial was over but it was scary thinking this could make him even more mad or aggressive. Oh, well, anything not to go through the pain again.
“Has anybody ever told you you’re handsome?” You asked, cringing at yourself for such a poor choice of wording.
“You don’t even know how I look.” He said, somewhat annoyed but loosened his grip slightly as you put your hand softly over his.
“That doesn’t matter. I feel like we could get to know eachother. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say to him as he stopped completely, baffled even.
“What?” He asked in confusion.
“Think about it, if we have a nice little chat then I’m sure the Entity wouldn’t mind. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve been curious about your artwork. Or I guess you can say photography. I’m sure you have a collection.” You said.
“Right, like a puny thing like you would even understand what I do.” Ghostface said to you, crossing his arms. Admittedly, he seemed to slowly forget his objective when he began to even talk to you. Even he didn’t know why he kept responding to you.
“A puny thing like me? Oh, please. I’ve seen my fair share of blood and gore on the internet. I bet your photos wouldn’t even make me budge.” Y/N said.
“Really, now? I have a collection of photos of you and your little friends.” He said, getting rather defensive. Such a fragile ego, you thought.
“Oh, so you take photos of me?” You asked, pulling him closer. He seemed to freeze up when he was inches away from your face. Despite wearing the mask, he felt vulnerable. Why? You were just a survivor meant to be slaughtered.
“I don’t mean it like that.” He said firmly, although, it wouldn’t be a bad idea since you were rather attractive to him. Both physically and personality-wise. The thought amused him but he shook his head slightly.
“Shame. I could’ve offered you a special photoshoot.” Y/N said, enjoying getting into character at this point since all the generators should be done soon.
“A what?” He said, finally flustered. You couldn’t blame him. A survivor was practically seducing him. A part of him wanted to give in since he already wasted so much time just talking to you. There were, of course, other needs he needed satisfied. The idea of him showing no mercy on you got him hot and bothered.
“A special photoshoot. Just me and you, uhh... Ghostface?” You said to him, resting your eyes. 
“It’s Danny--I mean, Jed.” He said to you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise that he even told you his name, you could even swear your cheeks warmed up for a second. No. no, you thought. Do not get distracted.
“Jed, huh? Sounds easy to yell.” You responded with a smirk. 
At this point, Ghostface decided he definitely wanted you. He quickly gave into his desire since he had his own desires and fantasies he wanted to put at ease. Plus, a survivor like you giving yourself to him? It sounded too good to be true in his own dirty, messed up standards. He silently smirked behind his mask. Hooking and killing wasn’t the only way he wanted to hurt you now. He saw this as a way to properly get back at you for hitting him with your toolbox.
What did you get yourself into, he thought menacingly. Unbeknownst to him, you were already one step ahead of him. Ghostface wrapped his hands around your waist and brought you closer to him. Y/N froze for a moment but brushed her knee against his upper thigh in a rather suggestive manner. She didn’t think it would work yet it did.
“So, when do you want to do this, baby?” He asked you in a lower tone. You felt your cheeks flush and your heartrate beginning to increase but you had to stand your ground for a few more seconds. You looked away for a moment with an unimpressed stare.
“You’re such a gentlemen.” You said sarcastically, pushing away from him by his chest. The feeling of his leather and fabric was firm, you kinda liked that.
“Now what?” He asked in frustration. Your eyes averted towards the tools spread out on the ground from the box. Y/N came up with an idea.
“Pick my stuff up for me and maybe we can do something... quick.” You said, tugging your shirt downwards suggestively. 
“Okay, okay. Fine.” Ghostface responded to you sarcastically.
He turned to look at the tools on the ground. Kneeling down, he set the toolbox upright and began to put the tools back. Ghostface found it interesting how such small tools can play a big part in fixing the generators faster. He’d be pissed off if some random fucker like the Clown came and busted it up after long, hard work. You watched him actually do as you asked. It was somewhat heartwarming. No, actually, it wasn’t. You didn’t wanna catch feelings for him.
Y/N looked around, inhaling quietly. He seemed focused on picking up the smaller tools. You weren’t sure when to make your move. Suddenly, a horn blasted. A feeling of relief washed through your body. His head popped up as you quickly sprinted away from him. Ghostface whipped his head around. 
“Shit, fuck...!” He muttered. It was at this point where he realized what you did. He felt angry at himself for giving into his urges instead of just hooking you and killing you and your little friends. Ghostface smashed your toolbox against the generator in anger.
Standing up, he put his knife away. Despite being furious, he still found you attractive and confident for even trying that with him. It fueled a different urge within him. Oh, he would definitely make you pay. Not from the hooks, of course. He smirked at the idea of it and began to walk off to the other door once he began to calm down.
Y/N, he thought. 
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stellocchia · 3 years
Text
Okay, now that I have a bit of time it’s time to analize that disaster of a custody battle stream, also known as Tommy and Wilbur visiting Las Nevadas!
As always this is gonna be quite long so I’ll put everything under the cut and remember that I’ll only be talking about the characters. Also for the dialogues the colors are: Quackity, Tommy and Wilbur
One thing that I would like to point out before we get into it is that c!Tommy is pretty much spiraling throughout this stream (he dissociates and shows his suicidal tendencies more clearly) so it’s good to keep this in mind when analizing his actions and words. 
First of all here’s Wilbur’s pov of it: Wilbur's POV
And here’s Tommy’s: Tommy's POV
I’ll be using both for this.
One thing that is immediately interesting to notice is that, despite supposedly living with Phil we mostly see Wilbur around L’Manhole.
“Have you been sewing? Knitting? That can be a dangerous sport if done too quickly” (just wanted to point out the tailor!Tommy bit)
So first of all is the confirmation that the stone never had a use beyond keeping Tommy occupied back when Wilbur asked for it. The task of gathering the stone could also have been a test on Wilbur’s part to test Tommy’s obedience considering that it was a tedious and apparently sensless task that most people would not have taken on.
Afterwards we have an interesting little bit where Wilbur demonstrates that he is still extremely knowledgable when it comes to tnt, knowing which blocks are more resistent to it and even being able to deduce that the ufo was blown up from the inside (something he’ll lie about later). 
“Someone’s a little copycat. Hey tommy someone’s a little copycat~” (in reference to what happened to Purpled’s ufo. This could be interpreted as derogatory we’ll have to see if Wilbur appreciates someone imitating his work)
Quackity’s book is then introduced, though at first Wilbur is very vague about it’s contents before straight up lying about them (saying that it said: “My dearest friend Wilbur, I’ve really missed seeing you, come to project Nevadas your best friend Quackity”), here’s the actual contents of it:
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It is possible that he didn’t mention the actual content to Tommy because he was afraid Tommy would have kept him from meeting Quackity if he knew that he seemingly agreed with Wilbur’s ideology, though this is just a theory. 
Another interesting thing is that Wilbur keeps referring to Ghostbur’s resurrection site as his “tombstone” despite Tommy having already told him last time that he didn’t get one. Perhaps this is a show of Wilbur’s own fear of being forgotten or of having been inconsequential to the bigger narrative (his continued search for the confirmation that he did have a big impact would seem to point to this).
“Will, I’m accustomed to people lying to me. Just tell me: will the book, whatever is in there, bring us more primes?” (this is an interesting way for Tommy to let Wilbur know that he knows he’s lying while still trying to keep the conversation more light herted)
On their way to Las Nevadas there is an interesting instance of Wilbur standing still near a creeper instead of trying to protect himself so that Tommy has to intervene (similar instances happen multiple times throughout the stream) which could be a portrayal of his self-destructive tendencies and kinda mirrors Tommy's behaviour in exile. 
“Every person we’ve spoken to aside from say, I don’t know, Jack Manifold. Every person aside from Jack Manifold has taken a bit of a disliking to me. Oh and Phil, Phil was lovely too, and you actually! Come to think of it the 3 people I care about most, Jack Manifold, you and Phil, have been the nicest to me”
There are a few things I wanna say here: first of all there is one manipulation tactic that consists of making yourself out to be the victim in a certain situation in order to gain pity, sympathy or evoke compassion in the other and that’s what Wilbur has been doing both in this stream and in the past when mentioning that people hate him despite every single person he met (aside from Tommy himself) actually being rather kind and accomodating. This does probably come from Wilbur’s own self-hatred and his view of himself as a villain but, once again, I would like to remind you that manipulation is still manipulation even if you believe in what you’re saying. 
The second point I wanted to talk about briefly was the line about only caring about the 3 people he mentioned. Aside from how truthful he is about all 3 of them (I’m sorry but I have a hard time believing that he cares deeply for Jack Manifold when he didn’t even used to remember who he was) he also later mentions that there are other people he would like to see, basically it’s like the L’Manburg situation: just because Wilbur says he doesn’t care about something it doesn’t mean that it’s true.
“They told me it was like a small little town where Big Q sells funny potions and liquids from his van” (so from Tommy’s understanding Las Nevadas was a mix between the drug van and og L’Manburg. I wonder if we’ll find out who gave him this idea)
Little note about Wilbur throwing Linda (Tommy’s prized shovel) away twice during this stream almost casually.
“Tommy stand back. Tommy stand back” (Wilbur interposing himself between Tommy and a situation that might be dangerous, I’ll talk about this a bit later but keep it in mind)
“I’ll tell you what: it’s nice to see you out of that stupid vice president shirt. You know I never thought you were fit for that vice president thing anyway, I think that this is- this is- what- what are you like the concierge of this area? Like the cleaner?” “This is so nice!” “I don’t know what to call it Wilbur all I know is that this is my place. This is mine. I own this place”
It is interesting to note that Wilbur apparently did not think too highly of Quackity, immediately assuming he must be and employee rather then having a leading position, he even expresses that he didn’t think Quackity was fit to even be vice president. It’s also interesting to point out that Tommy gets immediately uncomfortable with where the conversation is going and splits off from the two to explore while also being extra obnoxious in an attempt to split up the fight he knew to be coming (he is always rather perceptive), to which Quackity responds only with amusement (actually humouring Tommy), while Wilbur simply ignores it for the time being. 
“If I’d known there was a place I could align myself to as quickly as this I would have done it sooner” (could be both a search for community as well as him generally prefering being aligned to a country as he comments later on that he’s not a fan of anarchy by mentioning that him and Phil don’t see eye to eye on this)
This is when Wilbur brings up Quackity’s book for the second time mentioning that he assumed it was an invite to joing Quackity in Las Nevadas, which turns out it wasn’t. 
“So that’s the invitation to work alongside you I assume, I- I accept. I accept. I’d love to come in” “Big Q I also wanted... can I move into the big- the big penis?” “*laugh* No Tommy. Wilbur, Wilbur” “Yeah?” “No? No?” “That was... that was not an invitation I’m sorry Wilbur” *Wilbur checks the book again* “That’s not an invitation. Wilbur, Wilbur, my nation will not be subject to your... unpredictability, alright? Thank you so much for coming, thank you so much for visiting Wilbur but, uhm... I don’t need any- I don’t need any extra members right now” 
So taking this conversation a bit at a time: Quackity is the first person since Wilbur has come back (aside from Tommy, but Tommy’s opinion really doesn’t matter to Wilbur) who hasn’t tried to accomodate him. He set his own rules and stuck by them not willing to budge on it at all. Also it is interesting to note that Quackity so far doesn’t seem to be interested in letting Tommy join either, only changing his demeanour later after Tommy calls Wilbur out on his lying. This change of mind could both be tied to a crack he noticed in Tommy’s loyalty to Wilbur as well as done to spite Wilbur himself. Or both really. 
“[Las Nevadas] It’s like one of those visions you have after being in the mines for several hours” (Tommy mentioning having hallucinations once again)
“No... no, you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got it all wrong man. Okay okay, maybe, maybe I was unprdictable in the past” “But it’s really nice...” “But I’ve turned over a new leaf Quackity! I don’t lie anymore, I don’t- I don’t, you know, I don’t deceive, I know nothing about tnt anymore. I’ve forgotten everything I knew about tnt, it’s ridiculous I-” “*snicker* Ok- mmm, well... Will, well” “Is he lying Tommy?”
Also here we have a clearer example of Wilbur lying and deceiving right after asserting that he doesn’t do it anymore (he deceived Tommy on the book and lied about his knowledge on tnt) together with Tommy calling him out on it.
“This is the best place on the server! This is like heaven! Paradise!” “Quackity we can stay, right?” “You seem to like it a lot Tommy” 
Immediately afterwards there’s where Quackity seems to change his mind about letting Tommy stay while also ignoring Wilbur in the process. Again we really don’t have any definitive indication for the reason why he changes his mind, it could be because he saw how much Tommy liked it here as much as it could be to spite Wilbur. Any conclusion for either is pure speculation.
“Quackity look at me, look at me in the eyes. I. Am. Your. Servant. I am at your service. I have run countries, I’ve won elections, I’ve done everything that you will need in a leadership role, Quackity. Even not in leadership! I can- I can be, you know, assistent to president”
Another less known form of manipulation. Wilbur wants power within this new country so he offers to cover a more “subservient” position to have Quackity let his guard down so that he can achieve his role. 
“Will this is so cool!” “Tommy SHUT UP!” “Hey! What a fu- hey what a fuck?!” (a bit of Wilbur’s “affable” persona slipping away paired up with Tommy immediately noticing that that was not okay and calling Wilbur out on it)
“Wilbur listen to me: I saw what you did to L’Manburg and I’m not letting Las Nevadas have the same fate as L’Manburg. I appreciate Tommy here, I appreciate you checking this place out Wilbur but, I don’t need your services, I don’t need your presence, you’re very unpredictable” (Quackity once more standing his ground and repeating that he does not trust Wilbur in the slightest and also reaffirming that he does want Tommy there instead)
It’s interesting to notice that all throughout this exchange, while Tommy was off exploring Quackity was the one often paying attention to him while Wilbur ignored him the whole time before snapping.
“So we’re not allowed?” “Tommy, I need to talk to you Tommy” “Am I allowed? Or is it just Will?” “Well, I’d love to discuss it with you” (Quackity is the first person that actually directly addressed Tommy while ignoring Wilbur since Wilbur’s resurrection and that’s quite interesting. It could be that perhaps he noticed that Wilbur seems to consider Tommy almost like an extension of himself and that he tried to drive a wedge into that)
The next few minutes are spent with Wilbur trying to find out exactly where the confines of Las Nevadas are.
“Tommy come with me. Tommy at my side please” (addressing him like a soldier again)
There is a back and forth between Wilbur and Quackity where Quackity tries to deflect Wilbur’s question about his ownership of the adiacent forest multiple times, but Wilbur does end up finding out that it’s not Quackity’s land. (Wilbur also has a throwaway comment about that forest being Paradise in response to Tommy calling Las Nevadas that which Tommy disagrees on).
“What’s the point in capitalism without healthy competition?” (Wilbur announcing he wants to create a country next to Quackity’s)
“Wait, where are you going?” “Just over here Tommy. Stay by my side, by my side” (once again an emphasis on wanting Tommy nearby, which isn’t new)
“You know what Wilbur? You’re right: capitalism strives on competition and I’m ready for all the competition you can bring me” (Wilbur is positively giddy at this declaration, which makes me think that he does truly see this competition mostly as a game)
“Will I don’t want to start a country, I very much like that country there” *Tommy points at Las Nevadas* “With the stone-” “Tommy we- we’ll discuss this in a minute” “No...” “No no no, Tommy seems to have some concerns about building a country from the ground up” (Tommy under) “Listen, listen, guys, guys, I was over there” (Quackity over) “So how about you take Tommy’s opinion into consideration? For once, for once in your life since you’ve never done so before” (Tommy under) “Can we please listen to me? You [Quackity] are not lis- you’re not lis- you’re actually speaking over me”
This is the first one of many conversations this stream where the fight has moved from the power pissing context Wilbur and Quackity had going on to Tommy. It’s also where they starting weaponizing him more and more (his traumas as well as the other’s treatment of him) while each trying to prove that they’re better for him then the other. Of course this isn’t actually about Tommy, it’s about power once again. Quackity has undeniably noticed by now how Wilbur treats Tommy (aka as an extension of himself) together with being pissed that Wilbur challenged him on his own territory (challenging Las Nevadas which is Quackity’s most prized possession) so he decided to repay him in kind. 
From here on out Tommy seems to spiral more, standing up for himself less, looking more and more uncomfortable (especially when the other two start bringing up his traumatic experiences) and slipping back into dissociation and self-loathing behaviour.
“You showed great interest for my country Tommy and I would like to speak to you about that” “Yes” “Wilbur I don’t think you’ll hold Tommy down and make him join your country” “I have utter fate that Tommy will make the right decision” (both of them starting to put pressure on him, subtly influencing him with their wording) 
Tommy and Quackity have a chat together alone (though Wilbur is listening in). 
First thing that happens is Quackity bringing up the hotel which Wilbur implies later was done maliciously, though we don’t know if Quackity knew that the ownership of it didn’t go back to Tommy once he came back to life.
Afterwards Tommy asks Quackity about his scar. 
“If I’m gonna speak to you I want you to be honest with me, ‘cause I’ve spent quite a lot of time with people who just bullshit me, they lie to me and I’m not doing that anymore” (this is one of Tommy’s 2 priorities in life right now. What he wants can be boiled down to honesty and safety)
Quackity does explain honestly what happened, though the information that they spent their time hunting down Techno while Tommy was in exile instead of trying to help him does understandably upset Tommy quite a bit. (Also Wilbur finally makes himself a sword).
“But if this [butcher army] was while I was in exile you’re meaning to tell me that you put in all of the effort to kill Techno instead of helping me?” (...) “You know I needed help and no one came to see me” (this set back his mentality regarding exile quite a bit I’d guess. The anger is more then understandable)
Quackity doesn’t deny the accusations but he does deflect a bit saying that they can talk about it another time and that he is not Tommy’s enemy to which Tommy agrees.
“How would you like to run the official food business of Las Nevadas” (this is Quackity’s big offer for Tommy)
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(Wilbur putting pressure on Tommy in the meantime)
After this Wilbur intervenes directly inquiring on wether or not they were done. Quackity tries to get in a last minute sale pitch to Tommy who is getting quite overwhelmed and asks for some time to think (which he is now given by Quackity, but not later by Wilbur)
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Wilbur also expresses worry for Tommy’s safety while they’re coming back, though how sincere it is it’s unknown (I think it's at least partially sincere worry, but I doubt that's all there is to it). That said I want to say that multiple times in this stream Wilbur has seemingly shown to be protective of Tommy when it comes to Quackity, often almost treating him as if he was incapable of defending himself (as if he couldn’t 1v2 the two of them easily). For example here, even though Tommy said that he can take care of himself Wilbur immediately responds out loud with an: “okay I’m coming” and bringing out his sword.
“Listen Tommy I heard what he was saying to you man and you don’t seriously believe that do you?” (keeping the question very open so that Tommy can interject his own doubts. Also Quackity technically didn’t lie once to Tommy and, while there was a bit of deflection on his part so far he hasn’t been all that manipulative if I’m being honest)
Wilbur proceeds to tell Tommy that if he stays with Quackity he’ll be nothing more then a caterer (strongly implying that that’s not something he wants) and Tommy chimes in saying that that’s not for him.
“Listen Tommy I’m not gonna stop you but, I’ll be honest with you man, you’re all I’ve got” (set up for the guilt tripping later as well as once again putting himself in the position of the victim so that Tommy won’t leave him. Also he denies that Jack and Phil count as well because the first is too busy and he doesn’t agree with the political views of the latter)
“I wanna make a place where we can be safe for once. Tommy it’s been so long since we felt safe and man you deserve it. You’ve been through so much, you’ve done so much, Tommy you’ve changed the world! And all you’ve got to show for it is some scars and some trauma. Tommy you deserve this safety and this sanctuary and that’s why I wanna make it with you and you won’t get it over there”
Now this should sound familiar to quite a few people, mostly because it’s pretty similar to the tactic that Quackity himself uses. First identify the victim’s vulnerabilities and their desires (Tommy only wants 2 things and only one is connected to physical places so safety it is). Second relate to the victims experiences repeating that they do deserve to get what they so desperately want (check back Quackity’s conversation with Fundy if you want to see that done really well). And lastly emphasise that you’re the only one who can give them what they want.
“You know what has substance Tommy? Family. Blood” (what sparked back the canon sbi discourse)
“I haven’t- I don’t wanna make my mind now ‘cause it’s- it feels like-” “Tommy you need to make your mind now” (putting a ton of pressure onto Tommy, enough that Tommy is reminded of his time in prison)
“Tommy I love a challenge” (considering the context and the fact that this is in response to Tommy hesitating on who to join this is most definitely about him. Wilbur definitely still considers this, at least partially, part of his and Quackity’s game)
“If you pick Las Nevadas what am I gonna do? Man, what am I gonna do? I’d never hurt you. I’d never want anything bad for you Tommy” (mixing in a bit of guilt tripping with a bit of lies. Now, it’s probably not a lie that he wouldn’t want something bad for Tommy, but the thing about never hurting him? I mean, this stream is a proof of the cotrary)
“You can go with whatever you want, but just know what you’d do to me” (once again painting himself as the victim while guilt tripping Tommy)
“I put a lot of things to the side that I shouldn’t of. I prioritized the wrong things, I put revenge over humanity. I guess all I’m seeking right now is someone who’ll be honest with me and a place where I can feel safe”
Here it is, we got Tommy’s desire spelled out by him. This is what makes him so vulnerable to Wilbur’s manipulation, the fact that Wilbur knows how to pretend that he can offer this. Also the first part of this is another recognition of how unhealthy his mindset was while he was with Technoblade, which makes him saying that he betrayed Techno and feels guilty about that afterwards even more sad because he recognizes that being with Techno was not good for him but still bashes himself over leaving him even if he really didn’t have any other choice if he wanted to stay true to himself. It’s quite tragic and it’s once more a show of his self-loathing. 
“This can be a safe place for them [Techno and Tubbo]” (Wilbur is using the informations Tommy provided him in a moment of open vulnerability to manipulate him further)
Tommy then agrees to stay with Wilbur though he seems far from enthusiastic about it. He seems to believe Wilbur when he says he's gonna make a safe space for him and the people he cares about, but also seems hesitant to fully trust him.
“Big Q is gonna wish he never fucked with me” (still in regard to challenging Wilbur’s perceived ownership of Tommy)
The stream is far from over though. After that conversation between Wilbur and Tommy they start to build a stone penis over the lake and Wilbur and Quackity get in a very heated argument that leaves Tommy incredibly uncomfortable. The whole conversation consists in Wilbur and Quackity shouting at each other about things the other has done to Tommy (all traumatic for him) while Tommy makes himself smaller and shuts down. First Qauckity accuses Wilbur of emotionally manipulating Tommy (which is true), then Wilbur accuses Quackity of using the hotel against Tommy (which wasn’t actually true) and they keep going like that. 
“The one thing [the hotel] Tommy’s tried to do was a failure” (way to undermine achievements like putting Dream behind bars there... however to be exact this is a manipulation tactic known as “shaming” which consists in undermining the victim’s worth to foster feelings of inadequacy which makes them more vulnerable. It’s a tactic Wilbur has used quite often since Pogtopia)
“Great job Wilbur of doing to Tomminnit what you’ve done your entire fucking life” (Quackity does sound actually upset) 
“Don’t try to compare me to you Wilbur, me and you are not the same” (this does align to Quackity’s desire to not live in other people shadows any longer)
“Hey hey hey hey, don’t come near Tommy, don’t come near Tommy” “Will, Will, hey hey, let me speak! This is about me so let me speak! I don’t know I-” “I just don’t want him to hurt you. I just don’t want him to hurt you” “I can fend for myself. You weren’t here for a long time. I thought, I thought you [Wilbur] were gonna make me feel a little bit safer, let me tell you now either of you-” “Fellas fellas” “No shut the fuck up! I didn’t feel- that didn’t make me feel- that was weird, I didn’t- don’t do that either of you” 
Now this is both Wilbur once again babying Tommy and treating him as if he’s not capable of taking care of himself (it could be done out of sincere care, but that doesn’t make it any less patronizing) and Tommy actually standing up for himself. Tommy made himself as little as possible during their confrontation and didn’t utter a word and now he finally got a bit of confidence back to say that he didn’t like that and both of them still tried to interrupt him. And Wilbur immediately went to say that he won’t do it again, but Quackity will as if he didn’t listen to a word Tommy just said. That said after that Quackity does apologize to Tommy specifically (though how sincere that was is debatable and Wilbur also accepts the apology as well even if it wasn’t directed at him) and invites the both of them to have a tour of Las Nevadas. Tommy wanted to refuse the tour because he was already visibly overwhelmed, but Wilbur ignores him and proceeds to accept anyway. 
“Quackity I wanna say from here on, as much as we may have our disagreements here man I- we gotta leave Tommy out of this” (they don’t)
“Tommy I’ll take it back, I’m fine with you working here and still being, you know, as long as you still hang out with me and don’t leave me on my own I have no problems with you working here man” (except they both already put an incredible amount of pressure on him and Will in partucular already made him feel guilty for even considering sort of leaving him)
“At the end of the day it’s okay Tommy, you make your own decisions, but let me keep showing you around the TommyInnit res- uh, I mean the restourant” (very sneaky there Quackity. Naming things creates attachment btw) 
Btw, Quackity and Wilbur are still very tense, but they both put their differences aside in a split second to get Tommy away from the strip club, which honestly is just funny. Also once again Wilbur goes before Tommy inside the casino in case it’s dangerous.
They then gamble for a bit and Tommy bets Linda away and looses it. They then go up in the white tower. 
“This would be such a good point to just jump off and just end it. Woah” “no no no Tommy get down!” “Tommy get down from the rail” (casual reminder that Tommy is still extremely suicidal, though at least this time there was someone there to get him down)
Quackity and Wilbur have a small conversation while Tommy is still checking out the view which mostly consist in Quackity trying to find out more about the Revival Book (while feigning complete ignorance about it). 
Meanwhile while dissociating Tommy puts down some water to the side of the tower and then jumps in it while taking it away (therefore technically jumipng off, but not dying because his fall was slowed down). Quackity notices and immediately panics, while Wilbur places some water down for him so he can get back up. 
“Tommy come here, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you” (both helping and emphasizing his wish for Tommy to depend on him as much as he does on Tommy)
After that they talk for a while and Quackity brings up the conversation that he had with Wilbur which is the moment Wilbur realizes that the “You were right” in the book was referring to the pre-Pogtopia him. Also Wilbur talks about the things he’s lost (years of his life and people are the two things he mentioned). 
“There’s lots of people I wish I could see. Like I wish I could just tell them ‘I’m alive’ and apologize and also thank them” (I do think he’s sincere, but it does make me a bit sad that Tommy was not in the list of people who deserved an apology in Wilbur’s mind)
After that Quackity seems to take an interest in Wilbur’s plans specifically, but, before he can investigate further, Tommy gives him his own answer and declines his offer of manning the restaurant saying that that life is not for him, it’s too relaxed (Wilbur's reaction to it is also worth notice). 
“I don’t wanna run a food stand. Wilbur gets things done” (sorry to Tommy here, but, genuinely, when’s the last time Wilbur got something done without Dream’s or Tommy’s help?)
After this they get back on the topic of the Revive Book and Wilbur reveals that Dream is the one who brought him back. He also admits that he wants to thank Dream for saving him and describes him as his “hero” again. Quackity himself reveals that he has been visiting Dream.
“Oh who cares about Ghostbur?” “Don’t fucking say- don’t- he killed Ghostbur” (once again Tommy should not be here for this conversation considering how triggering the subject is for him)
“I can’t believe- you’re like a misinformed parent, you’re just wrong” (Tommy both pointing out that Wilbur is wrong and admitting that that’s due to a lack of information)
“The prison is not just this thing, this dandelion. No no no, the prison-” “How are you back then Tommy? If you died” “Dream killed me to prove a point. That he- (continues under) he’s omnipotent, he’s got this God complex” “Quackity I need to get in there”
Once again not letting Tommy speak even if Wilbur himself asked the question, though this time it may be because if he listened to Tommy’s story and his experience with Dream he would realize that there are some incongruences between the version of Dream he created in his mind and the real Dream. Between his hero and Tommy’s abuser who beat him to death to prove a point. This split in his mind in how he views Dream was already evident in the last stream with him fip flopping between wanting him dead or not. 
“Tommy, Tommy, I’m not gonna talk shit about them [Sam] without their presence here alright?” (Quackity being protective of his own business patners)
Also Tommy manages to deduce on his own what Quackity has been doing to Dream, though he gets to the conclusion with the wrong clues. Either way after finding out how to visit the prison Wilbur leaves in a hurry telling Tommy to go with him as well.
“I’m a big boy Tommy, I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine” “Wilbur I’m a big man, but I was not fine” (Tommy tries to explain Dream’s danger to Wilbur by making himself vulnerable again, but it doesn’t work as Wilbur doesn’t listen)
Afterwards Wilbur tells Tommy that he is going to the prison and ignores any of Tommy’s concerns on the matter.
“Tommy listen, I didn’t wanna spring things on you because I’m really trying not to be a shit person to you Tommy, right? I’m really really trying. And it’s easy, it’s easy not to be a shit person to you, right? Because we got people like Quackity over there who are just- you know he said it best I’m not gonna talk shit about him behind his back"
If he’s not trying to be a sh*t person to Tommy he is failing miserably. Truly this whole stream he either ignored him, talked over him, talked about incredibly triggering stuff in front of him or tried manipulating him. This was all their interactions summarized. Pettiness aside though, he still badmouths Quackity by handing Tommy the book and telling him that Quackity agreed with the “old Wilbur” (not specifying that he is referring to pre-Pogtopia Wilbur and that he himself still agrees with the “old him”) to villainize him. He also acts like Tommy is being unreasonable for not wanting him to go, despite having died there and having seen Ghostbur die there. Wilbur does say that he won’t go if Tommy really doesn’t want him to, but he leaves telling him they’ll talk about it again right after Tommy tells him this: 
“I don’t think you should do that, he’s more powerful then you think you are”
Left on his own Tommy reminisces of when he went to the prison looking for closure as well. He then borrows an ender chest from Quackity for his and Wilbur’s little stone shack and then goes to the middle of the lake to listen to cat. 
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
The Wrong Lifetime — Ten // Wanda Maximoff
chapter nine | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eleven
author’s note: okay so this was supposed to be published yesterday but (if anyone cares lol), basically, i finished my last year of uni two days ago and so yesterday was the first official day i had that i didn’t have to do work, so i spent the whole day playing video games 😂 but it’s here now, so i hope you liked it!
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Approaching Y/B/N's study, my annoyance returned when I remembered how he acted only an hour before. I didn't bother knocking as I let myself in, seeing him loosening his bow tie and looking out the window.
"What the hell was that?" I snapped instantly.
He sighed, yanking his bow tie off and throwing it to his desk. "What was what?"
I crossed my arms to contain my frustration. "You know what, Y/B/N." He continued to play dumb, so I watched him with a frown. "Why are you so against me getting published? I thought– I thought you'd be proud of me. It's all I've ever wanted."
With a scowl, he looked the other way. "I'm the writer, Y/N, not you."
His words created an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy was a disgusting look on him, one I never wanted to see.
"No," I said, uncrossing my arms and staring daggers at him. "You're not the writer. I am. You only got noticed because of me!"
"Shut up!" he shouted, finally meeting my eyes. "You don't get to do this! It's not about you!"
"Yes, it is!" I shouted right back. "For once, it is about me, Y/B/N! Because this is my chance to do something I love."
He rolled his eyes, getting riled up all over again. "And that's another thing. Why the hell are you putting silly ideas into my fiancé's head about making money? Are you trying to make me a fool in front of my in-laws?"
I squeezed my fists together, narrowing my eyes. "They aren't your in-laws."
"Oh, you know what I mean!"
He didn't deserve Wanda. He couldn't. She was too good for him.
"Sorry that your masculinity is so fragile that you can't let your fiancé do something she's passionate about," I said through gritted teeth.
He glowered down at me. "You need to butt out."
I smiled bitterly. "Maybe if you didn't start on Pietro for no reason, I would."
He scoffed. "Please. That man is only trying to get into your pants."
I don't think I'd ever wanted to strangle my brother as much as I did right now. Did he really not believe in me? He couldn't accept that maybe I'd earned this on my own accord? Thankfully, unlike him, I could contain my emotions and managed to swallow down my anger.
"You know that's not the case," I said with a dangerously calm voice. "You should talk about your soon-to-be brother-in-law with some respect."
Y/B/N sighed, moving to sit at his desk. I followed him with my eyes, unable to recognise who he was. I hadn't dubbed him for the insecure type, but I was being proven wrong many times tonight.
"I don't want to do this right now," he said quietly, sinking his head into his hands.
I uncurled my fists, fed up. "It's already been done."
He looked up, but I didn't wait to see his face. Maybe he wasn't the brother I thought he was.
"Honest opinion," Wanda said, before revealing herself from behind the curtain. "Nice or ugly?"
"Nice."
She smiled brightly, twirling around in the dress she was trying on, before going back behind the curtain to change into another one. She'd invited me over to hers to hang out, which meant watching her try on a bunch of new dresses and getting excited over each one. I wasn't complaining.
"So, that first book," she picked up from our previous conversation as she changed. She was referring to Y/B/N's first published book. "That was really you?"
"Yep." I pulled my legs up onto the lounge sofa and leaned on my hand, elbow propped on the back of the seat. "I mean, it got edited of course, but the initial manuscript was mine."
"Wow," she commented. "That must have really sucked to hear everybody praise it when it was actually yours."
"It did indeed."
She came out from the curtain wearing a dress that wasn't particularly nice looking. It had a baggy torso and slim legs, making Wanda look very unflattering. And that was saying something – she could pull off anything.
"Nice or ugly?" she asked, hands on her hips.
I squinted, tilting my head and trying to think if I should lie or not. Her blue eyes peered down at me intimidatingly and I knew I couldn't find it in myself to lie to her.
After a moment, I released a breath. "I'm sorry, love, but it's kind of ugly."
She chuckled, giving me a knowing smile. "Good. This was a test. Means you're paying attention."
"Wow. You think I'm just sat here for fun?"
She didn't respond, but an amused smile was on her lips as she headed behind the curtain to change yet again. It was quiet as she was changing, before she spoke up again.
"You know when we first met? And you showed me around your room?"
"How can I forget? You thought I was jealous of my brother," I quipped with a smile.
I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me. "That was before I knew you wrote half his stuff."
Stifling a laugh, I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "Okay, go on."
She sighed. "I told you how I fell in love with that first book. How I fell in love with the words. And the person who wrote those words.”
"I remember."
She reappeared from behind the curtain, this time wearing a stunning floral blue sundress. It fell off her shoulders, revealing cream-coloured skin and a well-defined collarbone. I smiled softly, overwhelmed with admiration for the beautiful woman before me.
"I'm glad it was you," she said, and I suddenly remembered we were in the middle of a conversation.
Her eyes sparkled brightly as she smiled my way, and then her words sank in and my heart fluttered with adoration.
"Me, too," I breathed out.
She held my gaze for a second longer before looking down at her dress, pressing her hands over it. "So. What do you think? Nice or ugly?"
I raised my eyebrows with astonishment. "Wanda, you look absolutely beautiful."
Her shoulders relaxed as her eyes flickered to mine. "So, I should keep it?"
I spluttered, "Duh!"
She laughed, before approaching me and sitting beside me. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she pulled her legs onto the sofa and sighed contently. I wrapped an arm around her, resting my cheek on her head.
"I'm glad you'll finally get the recognition you deserve, milaya (darling)," she said, lifting her hand to intertwine it with mine over her shoulder.
With an entertained smile, I held her hand firmly. "Maybe, love. I haven't said yes."
"Oh, you'll say yes."
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, revelling in the warmth her body created as it pressed to mine. We had no concerns that somebody would catch us since nobody was home and the servants knew not to bother us.
"So, what was the book actually about?" she asked, playing with my fingers.
"Huh?"
"The book," she repeated. "I've heard Y/B/N's take on it, but what about yours?"
At the mention of my brother, I rolled my eyes. We still hadn't spoken since our argument and I wasn't exactly in the best place with him right now.
"It doesn't matter," I mumbled into her hair.
She used her elbow to nudge me gently in the stomach before grabbing my other hand and wrapping it around her waist.
"I like hearing you speak," she said softly. "And I love the way your mind works."
My cheeks flushed at the compliment, but I appreciated her words. She always had such an effect on me and I'd come to only care about one opinion nowadays – hers.
"Okay, I guess..." I sighed, subconsciously pressing my fingertips to hers. "The book is about a man who loses his wife to his own ignorance, right?" She hummed in agreement, so I continued. "Y/B/N always talks about how it's about a man failing to appreciate his wife, but that's not how I intended for it to be perceived."
Interest piqued, she sat up straight and turned around to face me, leaning her head on my chest and looking up with curious eyes. I smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up adorably.
"It's supposed to be about the wife discovering that she's her own woman and that she doesn't need her husband to be okay," I continued, holding her gaze. "It was her own self-discovery that pushed them apart, as well her husband's stupidity."
Wanda's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I like that interpretation a lot better than his."
Licking my lips, I breathed out through a smile. "You're biased, dear."
Her eyes flickered to my lips. "Maybe."
I chuckled before closing the gap between us, connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss. She relaxed against me before smiling as we pulled away.
"Ya lyublyu vas (I love you)," she whispered.
I always loved when she spoke in her native tongue. She sounded so at peace when she did and it warmed my insides.
"I love you, too," I whispered right back.
She grinned, carefree, before turning to lean on my shoulder again. I held her, enjoying the silence that formed between us. Her presence was always enough and I never wanted anything more. But I knew Wanda and I knew that she couldn't stay quiet for too long, so something was definitely up.
"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly, not wanting to startle her in case she was too deep into her thoughts.
She sighed. "It's stupid."
I smiled. "I doubt that."
It went quiet and I assumed she didn't want to share, but then she played with my fingers again as she spoke.
"I was wondering what it would be like if we were able to get married," she murmured. "With the dresses and walking down the aisle and the rings."
I laced my fingers through hers, the thoughts having crossed my mind at times, too. It was nice to think 'what if', but it was also a dangerous game.
"The wedding cake would have to be chocolate," I played along, not wanting her to think she couldn't talk about it.
She snickered, loosening up in my arms. "Of course. And the colour scheme would have to be red."
"Definitely," I agreed, knowing she wouldn't have it any other way, "...it could be somewhere small but comfortable. Surrounded by nature, maybe."
"Yes. With flowers all around us and the sound of birds tweeting in the trees."
A comforting smile crept on my lips as I closed my eyes, imagining it in my mind. What a beautiful day it would be.
"I'd force Pietro to be the ring bearer," she added as an afterthought, and I laughed, chest moving up and down with her on it.
"He'd hate that," I pointed out.
"Exactly," she said with a mischievous hum.
I rolled my eyes playfully. "What about afterwards? Where would you want to live?"
She scrunched her face up before settling with, "Somewhere remote. Away from people. Maybe a nice cottage somewhere."
Nodding in agreement, I said, "We could have a beautiful garden in the back. I'd do my very best to make it perfect for you. And you could paint whatever you wanted there."
A considerate smile tugged at her lips at the thought. "Yes! And we could get a pet. I've always wanted a pet."
"I guess we could... what pet do you want?"
With no hesitation, she said, "Chickens."
I looked down at her, quirking a brow. "Chickens?"
Looking up at me, she stared like it was self-explanatory. "They're cute and they lay eggs. Think about it. Fresh eggs for breakfast every morning."
God, she was so cute. I smiled, squeezing her hand. "Chickens it is, love."
She got excited as she tugged on my hand. "You can finally get a study of your own!"
"And you can get your own studio," I added, making her grin.
"And I'd keep it sparkling clean."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Don't lie, Wanda."
She rolled her eyes, though wore a humoured expression. "Okay, maybe not..."
"You can keep it as messy as you want," I promised her, as if it was actually going to happen and we'd get what we wanted.
The dream was so vivid in my mind that it could have been a memory. Wanda and I living together, peacefully and without hiding... if only we weren't in the wrong lifetime.
"I like to pretend that you gave this to me," she said after an unsettling silence fell upon us, raising her left hand for me to see. She wiggled her ring finger, the silver band and emerald gem glinting in the light. "It makes me feel better."
I swallowed hard and forced a smile, intertwining my fingers in hers and bringing them to my lips to kiss gently.
"Technically I picked it," I reminded her to lighten the mood, but it didn't work.
A sad smile appeared on her face. "Maybe in another lifetime, we could have met in a world that allowed this."
My smile faded into a frown at her words. Like I said, considering the 'what if's' was a dangerous game, and we'd already played too much of it.
"You're going to marry my brother soon," I said quietly, the realisation hitting me. "This– us, will have to stop."
She sat up and turned to face me, eyes looking between mine as she shook her head. "It doesn't have to."
I rested a hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, kissing my palm. I savoured the feeling of her lips against my skin.
"What we're doing isn't fair on either of us," I said reluctantly, afraid to say what we'd avoided for as long as our relationship lasted.
She frowned. "I'd rather have you like this than not at all."
My heart ached because I knew she was being genuine, and the truth is, I felt the same. But that brought me to our next dilemma.
"It's not fair on Y/B/N either."
She tensed her jaw. "The world doesn't want us together, Y/N. They're the ones who forced us to be like this."
"Like what?" I asked with knowing eyes. "Cheaters?"
Her eyes glossed over and it broke me to see her so hurt.
"Is it really cheating if I never wanted to be with him?" she asked with a shaky voice. "If I'm only acting out of duty? If I never loved him?"
Realising I'd saddened her, I moved forward and pulled her in for a hug, running my hand down her hair and to her back. "Sorry... I didn't mean to make you upset."
She sniffled and I felt her tears soaking my shirt. "Don't talk like that... I don't want to lose you."
I swallowed hard, nodding into her shoulder. "I don't want to lose you either, Wanda."
But I knew that deep down, we couldn't hold onto everything we wanted to in life. Deep down, she must have known that, too.
"...and this is where we write up the contracts. It's where we'd write up yours if you say yes."
Pietro grinned cheekily as I gave him a knowing look. He was showing me around the publishing house – a proper tour, not just me lurking around on the few visits I'd been here for Y/B/N – with hopes of convincing me to sign a contract with him.
"Pietro, you said you wouldn't be biased," Wanda warned, and I gave her a grateful smile as Pietro chuckled.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it," he apologised, though he definitely didn't mean it. "I just really think you'd be a great fit here, Y/N. I already have editors willing to work with you based on the few pages they've seen of your work."
I raised my eyebrows, startled. "Wow, seriously?"
He nodded. "Most definitely. As I told you the other night, you're talented. And with my help, you can be successful, too."
A smile fell on my lips uncontrollably. A real editor wanted to work with me. Woah.
"I'm gonna get some coffee," Wanda said, squeezing my shoulder. "I'll get you both some, too." She wagged a finger towards her brother. "Don't pressure her whilst I'm gone."
He raised his hands in defence. "Okay, calm down, sestra (sister). I'll be fair."
She lowered her finger, shot him a final look, then smiled at me before leaving for the café next door. I chuckled at how cute she was and how much she cared before returning my attention to Pietro.
"I won't pressure you," he said to me, perching on the edge of an empty desk. "I just want you to know that you'd be well looked after here. I wouldn't let anyone talk down to you, nor treat you with disrespect because you're a woman. I don't condone that here."
I relaxed at his words, offering him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Pietro. That really means a lot."
He returned the smile before his gaze moved over my shoulder. Smile fading, he cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away. I turned around, curious to what had caught his attention, and then I saw Y/B/N standing in the doorway, looking around for something. His eyes eventually fell on me and he perked up before heading our way.
I hadn't spoken to him since two nights ago after dinner. He'd actively avoided me, too and I wasn't complaining, having still harboured an unexplainable anger for him. What was he doing here?
"Y/N, hey," he said awkwardly, stopping before Pietro and I. His eyes flickered to Pietro before he asked me, "Can I speak with you?"
Instinctively, my jaw clenched and he seemed to notice as he shook his head quickly.
"Not to argue," he clarified. "Just to talk."
His eyes were pleading and I couldn't find it in myself to deny him. He was my brother after all, we couldn't argue forever. Nodding wordlessly, I smiled apologetically to Pietro before following Y/B/N to a quiet side of the room. My eyes ran along the many employees working away at their desks before falling to my brother before me.
"What is it?" I asked, maybe a little too harshly, but there was no going back now.
He frowned, eyes flittering around nervously. "I want to apologise for my behaviour the other night. I shouldn't have acted how I did."
I hugged myself as I shifted my weight between my feet. "Okay."
"You were right," he continued, finally meeting my eyes. "You deserve this. You've always been there for me, helping me with my writing when I needed it. I should have reacted better, but I let my jealousy get the better of me."
My mouth opened, surprised at his apology.
He offered me a sad smile. "The truth is, Y/N, we both know you'll be the more successful of us both. And you'll be so preoccupied with your own writing that you won't be able to help me anymore. And it was selfish of me to think that first, but I did. And I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I'm your big brother and I should've been better."
Chewing on my lip, I let go of waist and straightened up, nodding slightly. "I– thanks. Thank you. For telling me that."
His shoulders relaxed as he nodded. "Also, you were right about what you said about Wanda. And I'm going to apologise to her first thing."
My expression softened at the mention of the girl who'd only ever been good to us. "She's seriously talented, Y/B/N."
"I know."
I nodded, stepping forward and resting a hand on his shoulder. Looking between his eyes, I only saw regret and I knew he was being genuine with his apology.
"You're forgiven," I told him with a small smile, before pulling him in for a quick hug.
He returned it and I felt relieved to know he was supportive. I didn't see a reason to not accept Pietro's deal now... everybody I cared about was okay with it.
"Wanda is here by the way," I told Y/B/N when we pulled apart. "She's just getting some coffee for us."
He nodded and we returned to Pietro, who gave me a concerned look. I smiled reassuringly and he relaxed before looking to my brother with a smile.
"Hey, Pietro, sorry for what I said last night," Y/B/N was quick to say. "It wasn't cool. I know you're not like that and I shouldn't have even thought it, let alone said it."
Pietro was one of the chillest people I'd met as he offered his hand out to my brother. "No worries, mate. Bygones."
They exchanged a handshake before my brother glanced to me.
"She's really good," he said to Pietro. "You'd be lucky to have her here."
My face heated up as Pietro nodded in agreement. The two of them looked to me with proud smiles and as uncomfortable as I felt with the attention, I was grateful to have their support.
"I know," Pietro said. "All she's got to do is say yes."
"You haven't said yes yet?" my brother asked with disbelief, before slapping me on the arm playfully. "Y/N! This is your chance!"
"And it's a big decision!" I reminded him.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but then I caught sight of Wanda over his shoulder and perked up. She smiled my way but then noticed Y/B/N's presence and proceeded with caution.
"Hey, I got you both a coffee," she said, giving Pietro his and handing me mine, but her eyes were searching mine with worry.
My hand brushed hers as I accepted my coffee and I squeezed it reassuringly. She seemed to believe me as her lips twitched into a small smile before looking to Y/B/N.
"Hey," she said to him quietly, biting her lip.
He glanced to me for encouragement and I gave him a subtle thumbs up. This seemed to help as he wiped his hands on his trousers before looking to Wanda hopefully.
"Hey," he finally spoke. "Please can we talk in private for a moment?"
She nodded, humming in response, and followed him to talk.
"Match made in heaven those two," Pietro said sarcastically, and I tried not to laugh, but damn was it funny.
"Look, I think I've made a decision," I said after a moment, feeling my heart speed up at the realisation of my next words.
"Oh? And what is it? Will you let me publish you?" Pietro asked, quirking a brow and watching me with an excited smile.
Well, there was only the future to look forward to now.
I grinned. "Yes."
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Time and Chance
Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader
Word Count: 4,028
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.
In which the reader confesses.
Author’s Note: I may or may not have decided to go full sappy this week, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with my overbearing angst. Also I thought it was cute. Originally I wasn’t sure if I wanted the reader to be the one doing the confessing or whether it should be the character. I decided upon the reader on a whim essentially, with the idea that I could do the character later. We’ll see! The title today is reference to one of my favorite novels, written by Sharon Kay Penman. If anyone likes historical fiction I’d highly recommend it.
Today’s characters are Albedo, Childe, and Diluc. Tomorrow will be Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. And maybe Keqing.
Like I said in my past post Happy Valentine’s Day! Although this time it’s Valentine’s Day proper.
Albedo
In your defense, who wouldn’t fall in love with Albedo?
The mysterious alchemist of Monstadt; sharp as a tack, insatiably curious, and blessed with an ethereal sort of beauty on top of it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a person?
And that was the problem. You’d sort of taken it for granted that everyone loved Albedo, and in that assumption you’d found a particularly distasteful discovery. That if everyone loved Albedo then you were hardly going to be the only one asking after his time. And, following that line of thought, you figured it’d be incredibly rude – not to mention supremely irritating for Albedo – for you to confess your feelings.
And it wasn’t as if you two were the closest in the world. Although you wouldn’t say you were total strangers either. You instead drifted in that odd in between; more than acquaintances, not quite friends. Or at least that’s how you interpreted it. Albedo didn’t seem to be the person with inclinations towards friendship in general, a not altogether untrue or wild assumption, so you remained content where you were, happy with the conversations you had, with the times he’d trust you with a piece of equipment or would explain to you in detail what he was working on. I mean, surely that was enough?
Absolutely not. Even in your state of perpetual irritation and fretting over your feelings, you knew that simply ignoring them was a ridiculous solution. When did that ever go well? Miscommunication was the relationship killer, no matter what type, and what could be more of a misunderstanding than this? You didn’t even know what he thought of you for Seven’s sake!
So you’d resolved yourself to telling him. Even if he’d be irritated surely he’d appreciate your honesty. And even if he didn’t you needed to tell him, for yourself if not for him.
It was with this in mind that you approached him one afternoon as he was working outside.
“Um, Albedo?” Your voice had taken on a slightly weak tone, as if you didn’t have enough air all of a sudden. It sounded weird, and you kind of wished you didn’t have to hear it. But that was par for the course when dealing something like this, although it didn’t make it any easier.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you there.” Albedo turned around to look at you. You noticed that he’d swapped his regular tools for a paint set and an easel. Glancing at the painting you were struck by how he’d somehow managed to depict Cider Lake so accurately with so few brushstrokes. Never did you think about how the slight ripples that appeared in it could look a bit like circles. It was altogether impressive, and for a moment you forgot what you were doing, or perhaps you’d pushed it out of your mind.
“Was there something you wanted to ask?” Albedo’s voice pulled you out of your artistic musings. Evidently you weren’t going to be able to get out of it now. Come hell or high water, you were going to tell him.
“Well, so… you see, I… I really love you and your work!” The words came tumbling out, dropping like stones in the suddenly charged atmosphere. Almost immediately your nerves were replaced with a distinct sinking sense. “Uhm, rather. I mean –” you tried to begin again, but your voice had suddenly turned quite small, and you found yourself unable to continue.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Albedo’s voice was calm but not unkind, for a moment you felt your face grow warm. Was this actually going to happen? It’d be impressive considering how you’d botched it. “I’m so glad to hear there’s someone else interested in my work. I find that unfortunately a great many people take the world around them for granted. That you do not is commendable.”
You found you weren’t really sure what to say; admittedly the only thing going through your mind at the time was something along the lines of Holy shit. Holy shit I fucking blew it.
Okay, so maybe that was an absolute train wreck. Still, you’d gotten that far, and at this point you felt like it’d be harder to stop and deal with the memory of your botched pseudo-confession than to try again. So you steeled your courage and after a week or so you found yourself ready.
This time you tried for as he arrived at work. Originally you were going to wait for afterwards, but you found the anticipation was tearing you apart, and so decided for before. The anticipation, combined with your slight exhaustion, was nearly unbearable; and a not so small part of you kept telling yourself that this was a terrible idea, but you were too far gone.
“Fancy meeting you here at this time.” There was certainly surprise in Albedo’s voice, but he was smiling, and didn’t seem to mind at all when you stammered out that you wanted to ask him about something. He simply nodded, before unlocking his lab and gesturing for you to go in first.
You loved Albedo’s lab. Various pieces of equipment gleamed in the early morning light, everything properly labeled and put away; a stark contrast to the clutter of Albedo’s desk, filled with papers and the odd sample. The whole room was surprisingly nice in general, floors made of wood, painted over with a type of resin as to keep it from being properly damaged, multiple windows keeping the space surprisingly airy, and the smell of various herbs filling the air, though not so much as to be overpowering. You’d once mentioned to Albedo that the space seemed much to homey to be a proper lab. He’d merely laughed, replying that all homes should be comfortable, no matter how out of the ordinary.
Now you used said comfort and familiarity to ground yourself. This time you’d do it. This time for sure.
“So, um about my question?”
“Yes?” Albedo replied, dropping a few things on his desk. You took a breath, steadying yourself before pushing on ahead.
“Well… you know when I told you I liked you and your work?”
“Of course. I was very happy to hear it.” Albedo’s tone remained opaque, you had no idea how your words were registering.
“Well, you see, I wasn’t being completely clear. What I meant was more… well… well I like you, more than your work.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face you sped up slightly. “Not that I don’t like your work of course! It’s just, it’s just…” you were foundering again, feeling stupidly embarrassed. Becoming more and more frustrated with yourself you shook your head. “What I mean is I like you. Personally. And I like you a lot, more than just as acquaintances or as maybe friends. And I know that this is kind of out of the blue and kind of intrusive, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who like you. But I just wanted to tell you because, well I don’t know, just because.”
You took a deep breath, feeling as if you’d said altogether too many words. Glancing towards Albedo you saw a look of slight shock on his face. A feeling of dread was creeping up on you. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.
“Well, I’m certainly flattered,” Albedo began, all your hopes beginning to sink. Urging yourself not to look away your nevertheless started picking at your fingernails, praying that at least the rejection would be over soon. “though I’m not really sure what you see in me. I’m hardly the ideal sort of person. And there certainly don’t seem to be many people who like me.” Albedo paused then; staring at him you found yourself in slight disbelief, sure that the sudden blush painting his cheeks was a figment of your imagination. “That being said, I cannot say that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. In truth I feel quite foolish now, only for assuming you were uninterested and refusing to try my hand at my own confession.”
“Really?” You didn’t mean for the tone of your voice to come out as so utterly disbelieving, but you couldn’t help yourself. Slightly light-headed you took a step forward, closing the space between you and the suddenly bashful alchemist in front of you. “You like me too?”
“Yes.” Albedo nodded slightly. “And, well, since you like me as well, might we…”
“Might we?”
“Might you do me the honor of becoming my partner?”
You found yourself giggling hysterically, half from the sudden release of nerves half from how ludicrous the situation had turned out to be. Seeing Albedo, looking for the first time uncertain and nervous, you stopped. Your face burst into a smile and you nodded.
“This is quite dramatic. But of course, of course I will.”
“I’m glad. But, might I say something?”
“Yes?”
“I wish you’d told me after work. If only because I’ll never be able to concentrate now.”
 Childe
If you had to describe your crush on Childe in one word it would be: idiotic. If you had to describe it in a sentence it’d be; incredibly irritating but also impossible to ignore.
You liked Childe, you liked him a lot. And you couldn’t blame yourself. Childe was the ideal sort of partner; charismatic, athletic, with eyes that could make your heart skip a beat and hair that was asking for you to run your hands through it. Childe was attentive too, full of words that would make anyone swoon a bit, and always ready to listen, agreeing with you on every point and reacting just as you wished.
But that was the problem. Childe was a façade, his personality had been honed to be as sharp and as deadly as a knife. Of course he was understanding and charismatic and a perfect person to hold a conversation with, what else could one expect of a member of the Fatui?
At first you’d desperately tried to ignore your feelings, as if they were somehow embarrassing. You felt vaguely guilty for carrying a flame for Childe, as if you’d managed to fall into a trap you’d seen a ways away. It was an unpleasant feeling to be sure, and you tried to bury it as much as possible, sure it’d go away.
But it didn’t go away, instead your feelings somehow seemed to become more and more stubborn, as if insisting on leading you down the path that many fools who interacted with the Fatui had fallen down before. Childe was at the forefront of your mind.
You noticed when he passed by you, shooting you a blinding smile which always turned into a self-confident sort of smirk, no doubt a result of your inevitable blush. You noticed the way he always seemed to ask after your interests, but never failed to avoid more personal topics that might make you uncomfortable. You noticed how he laughed at your odd half-jokes and the way that his hand brushed your once, causing you to withdraw your own as if burned, stammering out a “nothing” when he asked what was wrong.
But still you refused to tell him. Surely that was what he wanted, another person who could be called upon to give information to the Fatui, or perhaps assist in their dirty work. That wouldn’t be you, that would never be you.
It was snowing on your way home, blocking out the normal sounds and casting the world in an eerie sort of beauty. You wished that it wasn’t so late, cursing yourself for once more forgetting how early the sun set. It didn’t help that it was blindingly cold, and that you were dressed for weather that was at least ten degrees warmer. Hurrying along you were thinking about the meal that you were going to have, unaware of the slick patch of ice lying in front of you.
“Whoah, be careful!” You were yanked out of your thoughts with alarm. Glancing around you quickened your pace, shoes slipping immediately on the ice. However instead of a hard fall on the street you found a pair of arms wrapped under yours. Glancing up you found your face only centimeters away from Childe’s.
“Sorry for causing that.” Childe’s voice was clear as a bell, marking the contrast between the two of you in your mind. Lifting you up he chuckled slightly. “I should’ve realized that a random voice yelling at you would be alarming. Nothing bruised I hope?”
“N-no.” You managed, face burning. You’d never gotten this close to Childe before, not really, and the experience was going straight to your head, as if you’d suddenly gotten very, very drunk. Shaking your head you shifted your glanced towards the ground. “Thank you.” You managed, although your voice was soft enough to be inaudible. You were still trying to process what was happening. One question kept replaying itself in your mind, why had he called out, why had he noticed you?
“I’m glad!” Childe’s voice was a beautiful thing, and you found you couldn’t really think when listening to it. “I was a bit worried I wasn’t in time.”
“Yeah…” you replied. Suddenly the situation dawned on you completely, and you found yourself looking at him with no little suspicion. “Why do you pay so much attention to me?” You blurted out.
“What do you mean?” The expression on Childe’s face was one of perfect confusion, but you could tell that he’d been somehow caught. The tone of his voice was suddenly muddied, as if you were hearing his uncertainty for the first time. This gave you courage to press forward.
“I mean it. Why, why do I always see you? I mean, why do you even pay attention to me? I’m not the kind of person to forget who you are, the fact that you’re a member of the Fatui. I won’t be roped into your schemes, no matter how much I like you.” Shit. That last part was supposed to be only in your head. For a moment you weren’t sure if you hadn’t actually hit your head somehow.
Childe looked frozen, his expression blank, filled with disbelief as well as… bashfulness? If that’s what it was it certainly didn’t fit the normal vision of Childe, still you found yourself somehow compelled by it. This was a part of the real Childe.
“I… didn’t realize you’d notice. Now I feel found out!” He chuckled again, but this time it was distinctly nervous, and he turned to the side slightly. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes snapped towards yours. “Wait, rewind. You like me?”
“…Yeah.” I mean what were you supposed to say?
“I can’t believe this.” The widest grin spread across Childe’s face, and he started bouncing on his toes slightly, it was very cute you could give him that.
“You’re ignoring the rest of my words. Personal feelings or not I still hate the Fatui, and I still don’t know why you’d target me anyways.”
“It’s cause I like you, can’t you tell?” Childe’s words rammed into you, utterly unexpected; seeing you shake your head he once more closed the space between you two. “No, I mean it. I like you. I just can’t believe that you like me back.” He let out another huff of laughter. “I can’t believe I’m this lucky, I’ve never been this lucky. Well, I’m sorry that I came off like I was some Fatui creep, I promise my occupation doesn’t include systematic wooing of civilians.”
“How can I trust you?” You were trying to stand your ground, but in reality you’d already fallen. The situation was too much, and what little resistance you’d managed to hold on in the past weeks was tearing to shreds before your own eyes.
“Because I wouldn’t lie about this.” Childe was suddenly still, his expression deadly serious. “I promise I wouldn’t lie about something like this. The fact is I like you, I like you a lot. I know my job is… unconventional to say the least; I also know that it’s entirely fair if you don’t want to associate with me because of it. But at least trust in my feelings being real, okay?”
What could you do? You nodded, a short “I trust you” falling from your lips. The feeling of happiness was surprisingly sedate, mixed with nerves, yet also somehow filled with contentment. It felt so good, it felt so good just to let go and accept what had happened. You liked Childe, you liked him so much, and he like you too. What more was there to say?
“May I ask you something?” Childe asked, voice slightly husky. Your faces were once more barely apart, and you found that you could stay like this for ages and ages.
“Yes?”
“May I hold your hand?”
You let out a laugh, smiling brightly as you slid your hand into his.
 Diluc
You weren’t even sure how this one happened.
It wasn’t that Diluc wasn’t the perfect kind of guy, I mean if he wasn’t you probably wouldn’t be falling madly into one sided love with him. It was just that you two didn’t actually have much of a chance to interact with one another, what with him being the manager and part time bartender of a surprisingly vast winery, and with you being an adventurer and someone not likely to get plastered any time soon.
But the few times that you had interacted with him, usually something to do with guarding the alcohol he was exporting, had been enough to cement an intense infatuation in your mind. There was just something about him; whether it was his voice, his polite yet intense form of speech; his mannerisms, always perfectly on time with what he needed, something which helped you and the Guild immensely; or his general charm, okay look he had great hair; you’d simply gone mad for him.
And mad indeed you were. Though you weren’t about to become a stalker – besides being incredibly creepy on principle since when did that land a person in anything but jail – you’d taken to trying to find out a least a little more about him. Because if you were going to be infatuated with someone it should at least be for more than his organizational skills and the fact his hair would look great in a high ponytail.
And what you’d found out only built upon your crush. The fact that he found the Knights of Favonius lacking, though perhaps a bit unconventional, was ultimately reasonable, or at least justifiable. You liked also that he refrained from drinking, and not just because the idea of ending the night sick in the bathroom was something that haunted you a bit. The more you learned the more you wished that you were in a situation where your feelings could be reciprocated, or at least where you could become friends of some degree. Really you just wanted him to notice your existence, sure he could pick you out in the endless sea of adventurers.
So you planned on introducing yourself at some point, at least as his almost designated wine protector. The only problem was when. Diluc seemed to be busier and busier these days, and when he was around he seemed muted, as if he was carrying something. You couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden your own baggage. So you said nothing, and as your crush grew so did your dejection.
It was a lovely summer evening and, seeing as your apartment had becoming stifling in the daytime, you’d taken a walk, snaking through the streets of Monstadt before exiting via the back gate, glad to see there were no guards around. Walking down towards the banks of the lake you slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet into the water. Letting out a sigh you sat down and tilted your head back, enjoying the slightly breeze on your face, trying to take your mind off of the past months of agony. The world faded into background noise, and you found yourself in a state of pseudo peace, glad to have it, if only for a moment.
“Watch out!” A familiar voice broke through your reverie. Turning your head towards the source of your disruption you saw a masked figure as well as a cryo abyss mage. The mage, having correctly decided you were going to be easier to deal with than the actively armed person, suddenly appeared right in front of you. Acting on instinct you pushed your hand in front of you, letting electricity bloom from your fingertips.
As the abyss mage lay stunned your felt an arm wrap around your waist, dragging you a ways away. “Wait here.” The person carrying you said, before running back to fight. Finally getting a good look at your savior it was all you could do not to gasp. Despite being the cold hard truth you still found it hard to believe, and for a second you wondered if you hadn’t passed out somewhere and were having a particularly fantastic dream.
Finally the fighting was over, lifting yourself up you jogged over to the man who could only be the Darknight Hero.
“Master Diluc?” The words flew out of your mouth.
“Just Diluc please.” Diluc shook his head. “Forgive me for being a bit rough. Cryo abyss mages and electro users rarely work well together.”
“It’s perfectly fine!” You replied eagerly. “Really, thank you!”
Diluc offered a smile in reply, one that immediately made your heart seize up. Suddenly you remembered who the person in front of you was. Seized at first with something akin to embarrassment you also came to a sudden realization. This might be the only chance.
“Diluc?”
“Yes?”
“Well, can I say something?”
“Of course you may.” Diluc relaxed his stance, leaning slightly forward. Your face was burning, you really weren’t expecting something like this to happen, but it was now or never.
“I realize this will be quite sudden, but I… I like you.” You felt the urge to add on something, some explanation or apology, but unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, you found you couldn’t say anything more. Running your fingers through your hair you lowered your head slightly, not wanting to see the expression on his face.
“Can I say something?” Diluc’s voice was gentle, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Though you wouldn’t say his stance had changed very much, he somehow seemed more relaxed, something you weren’t expecting.
“Of course! I realize what I said must really be a shock, I’m really sorry.” You let out a pathetic sort of laugh.
“Don’t be sorry. I realize what I’m about to say must be equally as shocking. But, the fact of the matter is I like you as well.”
“I didn’t realize you knew I existed!” You replied, still not ready to drop your defense mechanisms. Diluc stared at you, a perplexed expression on his face.
“I’m quite surprised by that, I thought that my request for you to be the guild member in charge of the Winery would’ve been an indicator. Forgive me, I didn’t realize that you were unaware.”
“I thought that was a decision by the Guild to make things easier.” You admitted. “Although I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you might be aware of my existence.”
“Why?”
“Because that would’ve been scary! I mean, what if you didn’t like me, not in that way, just… in general.”
“Well I like you a lot.” Diluc’s voice was soft and warm.
“I like you two.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.
As he escorted you back to your home the two of you spoke about a myriad of things, some important and some quite mundane. You found that having your feeling reciprocated had truly opened up something in you. Suddenly everything seemed so much realer, made manifest by Diluc’s presence. You couldn’t believe it really. What had failed with months of planning had succeeded in a matter of moments.
And all because of an unsuspecting abyss mage.
369 notes · View notes
xiaomoxu · 3 years
Text
Lucien - Mind’s Quest: Arriving With The Crowd
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️
A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.
Please beware of roller-coaster emotions from this. A sweet moment yet has a deep meaning between them, is ready to serve you~
*) I put [...] on my thought about some scene.
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Translations under the cut~
Part 1
??: Lucien, MC, we met again.
On the way when Lucien and I get off from work, suddenly a familiar voice came from behind us.
We spontaneously turned around and saw our neighbor, Mr. Zhang, carrying a supermarket bag and beckoning to us with a smile.
Mr. Zhang: Recently, I saw you two commuting to and from get off from work together every day. It's a really good relationship.
MC: Mr. Zhang also helps your wife buy vegetables every day.
Mr. Zhang: My wife’s legs are not good, so I will run more errands. It’s not the same as when you are young.
Mr. Zhang: I remember MC said last time that you were going on a business trip, when would you leave?
MC: I will leave tomorrow.
Mr. Zhang: Oh my, it's no wonder! Then I won't bother you, so I'll leave you two.
Lucien: Okay, I understand, please be careful Mr. Zhang.
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Mr. Zhang smiled and looked at us again, then strode away.
I received an outdoor reality show a while ago. I planned to go to the countryside of a neighboring province to shoot for three months. I heard that the signal over there is not very good and it is inconvenient to communicate.
In order to make up for the time when the two places were about to be separated, Lucien and I made an appointment to spare some time every day before departure.
Almost all the spare time was used by us when commuting to and from get off work, visiting the supermarket, and buying breakfast.
Even if it is somewhat "inseparable" in the eyes of others, I still feel that this time is far from enough.
When I was thinking about it, Lucien gently squeezed my hand, recalling my thoughts.
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Lucien: How do you plan to spend the last night at home?
MC: Speaking of it, it might be a bit boring...
MC: In fact, my luggage hasn't been packed yet, so I'm always worried about what's left.
Lucien: Let me check it with you later.
Lucien: There is a distance between the shooting location and the urban area, so you still need to prepare well.
MC: Okay.
I looked up at the bright evening sky, and couldn't help but move closer to Lucien, entangled his arm.
MC: But the weather is so good today, let's go slowly.
Lucien: Alright.
As he said that, Lucien slowed down, we dragged a long shadow and walked slowly towards home.
--
Early the next morning, Lucien escorted me to the station.
After taking the luggage out of the trunk, I stood still and did not move.
Standing at the gate of the station, the dismay of parting suddenly surged up.
Lucien turned around with a sense and helped me stroke the messy hair in my ear.
Lucien: This time it's my turn to help you take care of the green plants. Don't worry, I will take care of them.
Lucien: And for you, if you need my help over there, remember to tell me.
MC: Okay.
I opened my mouth, but couldn't say anything more. Lucien sighed lightly and pulled me into his arms.
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Lucien: It's ok, the words you want to say, I understand.
Lucien patted my back lightly, as if he wanted me to feel at ease.
I gradually calmed down, feeling the breath in his arms a little greedily, wanting to save a strength for myself.
None of us spoke, just let time pass quietly.
A radio alert sounded vaguely in the station, and the restraint on my waist was loosened. I also let go of my hand and raised a smile to Lucien.
MC: Phew... Recharge completed.
Lucien: It seems that the big producer is ready.
MC: Um! I will work hard, strive to go and return early.
Lucien: Okay, I'll wait for you to come back.
I waved to Lucien, pulled up the luggage and walked into the station.
After passing the security check and walking far away, I couldn't help but look back.
At the entrance of the station people were coming and going. I don't know who they are going to go to or who they have just said goodbye.
Lucien still stood on the spot, looking at me from a distance.
A train came into the station, and the crowd quickly engulfed him.
But knowing that someone is watching, has filled me with confidence.
--
Exclusive Radio
Lucien: The question just now is almost like this.
Lucien: After you go back, you can adjust your opening report based on today's discussion.
Lucien: Do you have any other questions?
Student A&B: There's none.
Lucien: Okay, that's all for today.
Student A: Huh? There is another hot search on the news.
Student A: "The villagers broke the news that the film crew was polluting the environment...This film crew seems to belong to the company "Miracle Finders", right?
Student B: Yes, I saw their propaganda a few days ago, saying that they are going to the neighboring province to shoot a reality show.
Student A: Local villagers said that they dumped sewage into the river and also posted photos.
Student B: This is too unqualified, right? Do you want to destroy people's environment in the name of local customs?
Lucien: ....
Student A: Wait a minute, Professor Lucien is the consultant of "Miracle Finders" .....
Student B: It's, Professor Lucien, we didn't have other meaning...
Lucien: It doesn't matter. It's a matter of fact. If the film crew really makes a mistake, it is normal to be criticized.
Lucien: But I want to know, did the photos on the hot search actually capture the scene where the show crew dumped sewage?
Student A: Not really, only pictures of the river.
Lucien: Then we better not draw conclusions so quickly.
Lucien: There is no objective fact of "the program group dumped sewage" in this photo, only the result of "the river water was polluted."
Lucien: People can stand from different angles and use this result to infer many different stories.
Lucien: There is only one true fact.
Lucien: How do you prove it, are the stories you heard were the facts?
Student A: I.....
Student B: Look, the program group issued a statement to refute the rumors!
Student B: They also did a picture comparison. It turns out that the picture on the hot search is a picture several years ago.
Student A: Huh? Then someone maliciously spread the rumors.
Student A: ... Sorry Professor Lucien, we were a little impulsive just now.
Lucien: There is no need to apologize to me, it is essentially the fault of the rumors.
Lucien: However, since the thesis is about to start the topic, you can use this matter to remind everyone.
Lucien: Whether you are doing research or encountering social events, don't be too impatient. Set your mind down and analyze the logic carefully.
Lucien: I will also look at your logic loopholes during the defense. So, I hope you will prepare it well.
Student A: Good professor, we must prepare carefully!
Lucien: Well, let's go back.
(Lucien left the room and close the door behind)
Lucien: Huh? No phone, no news...
Lucien: Forget it.
--
Part 2 - Main Story
I settled down at the shooting location and confirmed some shooting-related matters. It was too late when I got back to my senses.
--The whole day's hard work hits my body, but the unfamiliar environment makes me sleepless.
I unlocked the phone and saw that the conversation with Lucien was still staying in the report after arriving.
Suddenly I wanted to talk to him, so I raised my arm to find the signal direction and knocked on what I saw today.
MC: "Today, I was dealing with emergencies, the network was unstable, and the scene was very chaotic..."
MC: "But fortunately, I saw a very interesting book on the way, specially introduce words with special meaning."
MC: "For example, this one."
I posted a photo of a page in the book with the Greek word "pathos" on it.
T/N: The Greek word pathos means "suffering," "experience," or "emotion." It was borrowed into English in the 16th century, and for English speakers, the term usually refers to the emotions produced by tragedy or a depiction of tragedy. "Pathos" has quite a few kin in English. A "pathetic" sight moves us to pity.
It means the sense of yearning and longing for those who are absent.
I waited for a while, but Lucien didn't reply, he should have fallen asleep.
I confidently continued to type on the keyboard and talked out all kinds of experiences in one mind.
MC: "The villagers are very kind and hospitable and helped us a lot."
MC: "The air is also very fresh, and a faint fragrance of green grass can be smelled everywhere."
MC: "But there are so many bugs! Thanks to you reminding me to wear long pants yesterday."
I told everything from morning to night, and when I was about to say something, my phone suddenly shook.
A video call invitation appears on the screen.
I sat up, scratching my hair twice before press the answer button.
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MC: You haven't slept yet...
Lucien: Well, just after finishing the report, I received your self-thinking message.
Lucien: I thought I couldn't wait for your good night today, but I didn't expect to receive a "big gift before going to bed".
MC: I don't know if you're still awake, is it bothering you?
Lucien: How come, I didn't feel disturbed.
Lucien: It should be said that I am very happy to see you share these experiences, in every detail.
Lucien: It seems that I am also experiencing these with you.
Lucien picked up the phone on the side and swiped, and smiled in a good mood.
Lucien: The book you took is also very interesting. The author has developed such a rich interpretation just around the word "pathos".
Lucien: This is the first time I know what this word means in Greek.
MC: Does this word exist in other languages?
Lucien: Well, I remember that this word is often used in English to convey the appeal of artistic works. It also means "sympathy" and "suffering".
MC: When you say this, you feel that there is a subtle connection between these two interpretations.
MC: Missing or longing for someone you care about can be considered "suffering", right?
Lucien: Maybe it is true.
Lucien: When the person you care about is not around, everything about her becomes more conspicuous, which makes people more aware of the fact that she is not around.
Lucien: Just like today.
Seeing that I was a little confused, Lucien pointed to his mobile phone.
Lucien: I saw some people on the Internet saying that the villagers at the filming location are somewhat dissatisfied with you.
Lucien: Is this the emergency you dealt with?
MC: ....I thought my actions for solving the problem were fast enough to keep you from discovering it.
Lucien: I thought you would talk to me about this sooner, so I have been waiting for your news.
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I was stunned for a moment, and then quickly smiled at Lucien.
MC: Don't worry, those on the Internet are all rumors, I’ve already solved it.
MC: In fact, we get along very well, and we promised to let the guests help a family draw portraits tomorrow.
Lucien: Well, then I won't worry about it.
Lucien paused, and suddenly moved closer to the camera, seeming to want to see something clearly.
Lucien: Why you keep supporting your arm like that, is it not comfortable?
MC: No, because the signal at this spot is better...
MC: The accommodation conditions here are actually pretty good, and the rooms are clean and tidy.
MC: Except for the occasional signal, you have to looking for the angle yourself.
Lucien: I can imagine how you would look for a signal while holding your phone.
MC: You're teasing me again!
Lucien: Alright, I won't teasing you. It seems that you can sleep well tonight.
I lay down again holding my phone and patted the hard bed underneath.
MC: Newcomers may still have to get used to the bed for a few days.
Lucien: In this case, I will lie down with you.
Lucien turned off the top light and walked to the bed to lie down. I followed and turned off the ceiling lamp, leaving only the small lamp beside the bed.
The screen went dark, and Lucien's face also looked a little fuzzy.
We lie on each other's sides, looking at the screen, as if we were lying face to face.
Lucien kept looking at me. I was a little embarrassed by him, and my eyes began to drift around.
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Lucien: Where are you looking at?
MC: ... I can't sleep, I want to divert my attention.
Lucien: It's better to close your eyes first, and I'll help you.
Seeing Lucien's encouraging gaze, I closed my eyes, and his low voice quickly came from my ears.
Lucien: Next, can you tell me what sound you can hear over there?
I pricked my ears and listened carefully, perhaps because my vision was blocked, my hearing became extremely sensitive.
MC: There is the barking of puppies and the roar of the machine.
MC: The alarm bell of a car rang...It was a bit noisy.
I subconsciously covered my head with a quilt, remembering that Lucien was still watching, and then secretly revealed half of my face.
Lucien: I seem to forget to remind you to bring earplugs.
Lucien: If you bear with it, the owner should wake up soon.
As soon as Lucien's voice fell, the noise outside the window stopped, and the world returned to silence.
Lucien: Is it quiet?
MC: Well, it feels quieter now than before...
We were silent in unison. Maybe the night is getting darker, and there is no other sound in my ears for a long time.
I don't know how long it took before I vaguely caught a tiny movement.
There are small ups and downs in the steady, it is Lucien's breathing.
I brought the phone closer, and subconsciously let my breathing keep up with his rhythm, as if we were in the same space.
My mind slowly calmed down, and my consciousness gradually drifted away in this sudden connection.
MC: Lucien...
Lucien: Hm?
MC: Good-
Did I say "good night"? It was too late to confirm, and my mind was gradually empty.
I do seem to be a little sleepy.
I don't know how long it took, Lucien's breathing gradually became even longer.
The girl on the screen is asleep, but she seems to have not released the phone yet.
Lucien sighed almost inaudibly, then curled the corners of his mouth again.
She was right, "The yearning and longing for those who are not around" does make people suffer.
Lucien gently stroked the sleeping face on the screen with his fingers, and spoke softly.
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Lucien: Good night.
--
Part 2 - Memory Silhouette
Half a month has passed since the shooting. On weekend mornings, I was putting on makeup while chatting with Lucien.
MC: Professor Lucien has worked hard, and accompany me to get up early on weekends.
Lucien: It's okay, I just came back from buying breakfast.
MC: Huh? You finally remember to have breakfast on time!
Lucien: I heard that the spring limited soup dumplings from the Huxin Road store will be off the market in a few days.
Lucien: Thinking you might like it, I bought it.
Lucien: However, I forgot that you were not at home and accidentally bought two portions.
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Lucien fiddled with the bag on the table and sighed softly.
I touched my flat stomach and sighed.
MC: I knew I should have eaten it again before I left, now I have to wait until next year...
Lucien: Then wait until next spring, we will buy it the first day it goes on sale.
MC: Okay! Then if you want to eat more today, just eat one for me.
Seeing Lucien nodded with a smile, I just patted the sunscreen on my face and closed my makeup bag.
Lucien: How do you feel that your dressing time has become shorter today?
Lucien: It usually takes at least half an hour before you come knock on my door.
I hummed twice, leaned close to the phone and tapped on the screen.
MC: Professor Lucien may not be aware of it. Make-up takes time and it takes time to remove makeup.
MC: At days, moving bricks are precious as moving gold, and I’m sleepy at night, so I don’t want to bother to remove my makeup.
MC: And now, it’s more important to be able to concentrate on talking with you for a while.
Lucien looked at me, smiling at the corners of his eyes and eyebrows.
Lucien: It seems that I was too accustomed to this intention before, and I will cooperate more with your time in the future.
Lucien: Speaking of this, I found a lipstick at home yesterday, which should have been dropped by you.
Lucien got up and disappeared from the screen for a while, and when he returned, he had the lipstick in his hand.
He opened the lid and showed it to me. I recognized that this was the one I carried with me before. The paste had already bottomed out.
MC: Actually this one is about to run out, just throw it away for me.
Lucien: Do you like this color very much?
MC: Yes, it's very versatile.
Lucien thoughtfully twirled out the remaining lipstick. I looked at him with a curious expression and couldn't help but smile.
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MC: Lucien, in your eyes, are the various lipstick look similar?
Lucien: Just looking at it, it's a bit difficult to tell.
Lucien: But after you apply it, I can see the difference.
[Not me crying over this conversation ㅠㅠ]
MC: Unexpectedly, Professor Lucien is also have a talent for such things...
Lucien: This is not my talent.
Lucien: You make these colors look clearer and more beautiful.
[UGLY SOBBING]
It sounds like a joke, but his tone is very sincere.
I was a little embarrassed to look away, and my heart was filled with sweetness because of his attention.
MC: Do you have any favorite color?
Lucien: I have. What I see now is the one I like the most.
My cheeks were slightly hot, and I was about to say something when the phone alarm rang suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.
Lucien: Is it time for assembly?
MC: Mmhm, how can time pass so fast...
MC: Then I'll go out first.
Lucien: Be careful on the road and take a break.
Lucien waved his hand as I did, and the sunlight shining in the room reflected his smile more clearly.
After finishing the call, I also subconsciously glanced out the window.
Although we can't spend this weekend together, but fortunately, we still enjoy the same sunshine.
--
Part 3 - Main Story
It has been a month since the shooting started, and the daytime sunshine gradually warmed up.
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Three poles on this day, we set up the machine under the sun, but a guest did not wait.
Perhaps because of the sweltering weather, the guests were not very enthusiastic about their work, and even began to find all kinds of excuses to try "ask for leave".
Physical discomfort, temporary travel, family affairs... all sorts of things like
The reasons for yes and no are endless, which makes us very embarrassed.
I communicated privately a few times, hoping that they would cooperate with the work, but within a few days, the old drama will repeat itself.
Today was another morning without anyone. My colleagues took turns to the residence to persuade. I also made a few calls to the guests’ agents.
Fortunately, after some coordination, the guests finally came forward, and we started the machine in the afternoon.
But in this state, the shooting process becomes a bit difficult. The venue is not cool enough, there are too many retakes caused by the wear, and I don't like interactive sessions...
Little things that did not constitute a problem have become problems. I tried my best to explain from them, so that my colleagues and guests did not quarrel.
In order to ensure the quality, I temporarily decided to stop work ahead of schedule after the key parts were taken.
I took advantage of the break time and prepared to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some supplies to comfort everyone.
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Along the way, the villagers who came home passed by, and the sound of conversation and the roar of tricycles filled the evening breeze.
Although they looked tired, everyone was happy on the way home.
I suddenly remembered the days when I left work with Lucien before I left. At that time, I also had the same happiness as them. It was expectation and stability.
I don't know what Lucien is doing now. Did he leave work on time? Did he eat well? I took out my cell phone, but found that there was no signal.
I turned off the screen, walked silently to the entrance of the village, and suddenly a bright light shrouded my head.
The street light was on, and the warm light spread on the road outside the village. In front of the platform not far away, a bus full of passengers was pitting in.
Looking at the scene in front of me, I seemed to be gently pushed by a force and changed the direction of advancement.
I got on that bus.
--
Clerk: Welcome!
MC: ....
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Originally, I just wanted to take the bus to relax, but I didn't expect to sit at the terminal --- the railway station accidentally.
The power that clamored in my heart drove me to buy a ticket for the fastest return to Loveland City.
When I walked out of the Loveland City Railway Station, it was raining heavily outside.
I watched the pedestrians passing by in the rain, and the reason for escaping gradually returned to my brain.
I walked into a nearby 24-hour store and sat down. I was looking at the night view outside the window and combing my thoughts. My phone suddenly vibrated, and Lucien's messages popped out.
Lucien: "Are you done?"
MC: "Well, it's finished."
I thought about it and added another sentence.
MC: "it's raining outside."
Lucien: "It's a coincidence, it's raining in Loveland City."
Listening to the patter of rain, I calmed down a bit and dialed the video call.
Lucien quickly picked it up. With the light on, I saw the familiar room behind him at a glance, which seemed to be my living room.
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MC: Lucien, are you at my house?
Lucien: Mmhm, the rain is a bit heavy, let me move the green plants on your balcony.
Lucien: Are you still outside?
MC: I'll go out to buy something for everyone, and I'll go back when the rain drops a bit.
Lucien: It's already a bit late, so be careful when you go back.
MC: Don't worry, I am fully equipped.
As I talked, I nodded vigorously, as if to prove something, and as if I just wanted to convince myself.
Under the bright light, Lucien's dark circles were obvious, and his face looked a little pale.
There was a bit of sourness in my heart, I subconsciously moved closer to the screen.
MC: Lucien, what have you been up to lately?
Lucien: There is a study at the end, and the things at hand are a bit trivial.
MC: Is it very hard? You look a little haggard.
Lucien: In order to avoid blemishes as much as possible, it is indeed a bit harder.
Lucien: But it will be over soon, don't worry about me.
Lucien: But you seem to be very busy lately. Have you encountered any difficulties?
MC: There is a little problem...but fortunately, it is not difficult to solve.
I hesitated for a moment, thinking that I secretly ran back to Loveland City like this, I always felt a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject.
I glanced at the room behind him, and suddenly caught a bright color near the window sill.
MC: Lucien, what's on the windowsill...?
Lucien: Recently, a new flower shop opened near the research institute. There are many type of flowers and they are very beautiful.
Lucien: So I bought some privately and put them in your house.
MC: Well, I want to see it too.
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Lucien switched the camera to the rear, and I saw a row of flowers on the windowsill, almost in full bloom.
It can be seen that these flowers are taken care of by Lucien very well, but the colors are all gorgeous, and they are inevitably dazzling when they are placed together.
always feel that this is not in line with Lucien's style, so I spoke with some doubts.
MC: Lucien, did you choose this all?
Lucien: I just chose the type of flowers, and the clerk helped to match the others.
Lucien: What's the matter?
MC: Nothing... they are bloomed very well.
MC: Is it time-consuming to raise so much?
Lucien: It does take time to change the water and pruning, but once in a while, it can be regarded as a kind of rest.
Lucien: Sometimes it is a little more comfortable to do things according to your own will, right?
I vaguely think that he meant something. Did he find out what he sneaked back into? It shouldn't be so obvious....
Just as I was thinking about how to respond to him, Lucien turned back to the camera and met my gaze.
Lucien: What about you, is there anything you really want to do now?
MC: Yes, I really want to go home, and immediately sleep for three days and three nights, and then go to eat hot pot and soup dumplings.
MC: I also want to watch movies and dramas instead of the ones I made myself.
Lucien: I thought that at least one of these wishes was related to me.
MC: Of course it is related to you. These are all things I want to do with you.
MC: It’s just that sometimes I don’t dare to think too much. It would be a little sad if I remember that you are not around.
I lowered my eyes, on the opposite side, Lucien did not speak for a while. Only after a while, I heard his voice again.
Lucien: In fact, every time the flowers bloom and wither, I also get annoyed.
Lucien: It would be nice if I could see it with you. If I raise it with you, it might be able to bloom longer.
Lucien: I am used to witnessing these moments with you. When you are not around, it is really uncomfortable.
I looked at his slightly bent eyes, and the bottom of my heart loosened for a moment, like a seed coming out of the soil.
MC: Then next time there are flowers blooming, please send me a picture.
MC: Although the network on my side may be delayed, it can be considered as a witness with you.
The smile on Lucien's lips deepened, and he nodded gently.
Customers opened the door one after another, and I glanced out the window. The rain had stopped.
Worried about revealing my position, I hurriedly moved closer to my phone.
MC: Lucien, the rain stopped on my side, I'm going to catch the last bus first.
MC: Let's continue tomorrow, go to bed early. Good night!
Lucien: ... Alright, pay attention to safety. Good night.
As soon as Lucien's voice fell, I hung up the phone in a hurry, and quickly bought a ticket to the neighboring province.
The sky was still gloomy, but my mood faintly became lighter.
One-sided thoughts may be troubles, but if this trouble gets a response, it turns into some kind of power.
The feeling of wanting to escape disappears. Between parting and reunion, I will run as soon as possible.
Because I know he is waiting for me.
--
Part 4 - Main Story
The filming work has been going on for two months, and the sense of summer has gradually become clearer.
It wasn't until the evening when the heat subsided. Colleagues walked to the restaurant one after another. I took out my mobile phone and walked to a place where there was a signal, and left a message to Lucien.
MC: "I have finished work, is Professor Lucien still busy?"
The words "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the dialog box, but soon stopped and changed to a video call invitation.
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I hurriedly picked it up and Lucien's figure appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white coat and seemed to be still in the laboratory.
Lucien: Sorry, I may have to work overtime today.
Lucien: When checking the data, we found some problems, and we need to "rescue" them.
MC: Is it serious?
Lucien: Fortunately, it's just a bit time-consuming to process.
Lucien rubbed his eyebrows, and my heart tightened suddenly as I looked at his tired face.
MC: I remember that you were finishing up last month, is it almost to the deadline?
Lucien: It's less than a week.
Lucien: This time I brought a newcomer, and there are a lot of things that need to be run-in in the details.
MC: They might feel a little nervous, it's the first time they take on an important job.
MC: But with Professor Lucien, everyone will be able to find the way out smoothly.
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Lucien smiled and moved a little closer to the screen.
Lucien: I find that in your eyes, "Professor Lucien" always seems to be very powerful.
MC: Not only "Professor Lucien", in my eyes, Lucien is omnipotent.
MC: As the saying goes, those who can do more work, but you can't force yourself too much.
MC: Maybe you can’t rest assured now, but I have a tip to make you feel better.
Lucien: Oh? I really need it. Please tell me your advice, teacher MC.
MC: When it's really difficult, just give yourself a wish.
MC: In this way, every day we are moving towards that final wish and we have overcome many difficulties without realizing it.
MC: For example, arrange a vacation or travel, as long as it is something you like to do!
Lucien looked at me for a while and suddenly laughed.
Lucien: Thank you, teacher MC. I understand.
Lucien: In fact, this wish has always existed, maybe I'm just too impatient.
MC: What is Professor Lucien's wish?
Lucien blinked at me and skipped the question.
Lucien: If I remember correctly, your filming is also coming to an end.
MC: Well, the part of the reality show has basically been filmed, and I will go to the neighboring city next week to make up some empty shots.
MC: It is estimated that I will be able to go home soon to appreciate the flowers and plants that Professor Lucien has taken care of!
Lucien stretched his brows, and the smile in his eyes became deeper.
Lucien: Well, they are also looking forward to seeing you.
--
The neighboring city’s framing plan is based on the theme of "going home from work", for which the on-site director summoned a group of extras.
However, it rained suddenly before the filming started, so we had to buy an umbrella temporarily and distribute it to everyone.
I looked at the monitor and thinking about the moving line. I saw the light of the traffic light blurred in the rain, like a wet oil painting.
Considering that the theme of this reality show happened to be related to painting, my heart moved and decided to change the shooting plan.
MC: Please use an artistic way to express the theme, we will do slow-motion processing.
Think of this block as the background of the painting. You can use the props to simulate the people in the painting.
The actors seemed to be very interested in this suggestion and tried them.
MC: Let's try it first.
The camera moved slowly on the slide, the light slid between the transparent umbrellas, and the crowd moved closer to the camera and dispersed.
I seemed to catch a glimpse of a somewhat familiar figure in an instant, but in a daze, the figure disappeared again.
...How could Lucien be here? I must have saw it wrong
I blinked vigorously, forcing myself to concentrate.
Some of the people in this "painting" singing, some strode across the puddle, and some pulled out a stack of papers from their bags and threw them into the sky.
The night scene oscillated in these chaotic lines, and seemed to be lit by the warm atmosphere.
A piece of A4 paper flicked in front of the camera. After a brief loss of focus, the familiar figure suddenly appeared in the line of sight.
MC: ....?
I refocused, but found that the scene in front of me was not an illusion.
A narrow gap was opened between the crowds, and I saw Lucien holding the umbrella, walking towards me.
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He didn't make any movements, but just followed the crowd forward.
The light-colored coat was stained with some rain, which did not weaken his refined temperament at all.
This is the "Professor Lucien" I am most familiar with. He walks in the crowd calmly, as if he just got off work.
The splendor in front of me instantly lost its sound, and my eyes could only follow him closely.
But why is he here, why did he join the group acting team?
Doubts and surprises are intertwined in my heart at the same time, I really want to run to him immediately. However, at present, the only thing I can do is to look up from behind the camera.
It seemed that I had been waiting for a long time, and the moment I looked at him, I looked into his full of emotions-eyes.
In the next second, he took out a familiar lipstick from his pocket, twisted his fingers apart, and slowly started writing on the inside of the umbrella.
Perhaps it was because the people around him were acting in an exaggerated manner, and his movements did not appear abrupt.
I subconsciously stared at his umbrella and slowly pieced together what he had written.
P-A-T-H-O-S, is the word we talked about.
The continuous rain water glides along the umbrella surface as if soaking it.
There is a faint bitterness in my heart, it is the smell of yearning and longing.
After a brief gaze, Lucien passed the equipment and stopped beside me, as if accidentally covering the umbrella over my head.
I came back to my senses and refocused my attention on the shooting until the group actors had all gone.
MC: Cut!
MC: Xiao Fu, tell the actors, just follow the feeling they just did, and take another shot later.
My colleague walked to the side to greet the actors. Seeing the atmosphere loosen, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the person behind me.
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I took a straight step forward, squeezed his sleeve, and poked his cheek again. Lucien leaned down cooperatively, and let me touch him.
MC: Am I really dreaming...
Lucien: Do you need to check again?
The smiling eyes are so near. As if bewitched by the light, I opened my arms to embrace him.
The faint fragrance of green grass enveloped my breath, and I couldn't help but move closer.
MC: Lucien...
Lucien: Mmhm, It's me.
He was holding an umbrella in one hand, and he held me tightly on my shoulder with the other. I didn't care if there were other people beside me, and buried my face in his arms.
A real touch came from under my palm, and the tips of his hair flicked gently in my ears, itchy.
At this moment, without the barrier of the screen, even if I bury my head in his arms, I can clearly outline his appearance.
Lucien gently patted me on the back. I don't know how long it took before I heard his voice.
Lucien: Is it confirmed now?
MC: Hm.… It is indeed our Professor Lucien who has replaced the actors.
MC: But why are you here?
Lucien: Now I'm here, will it affect your work?
MC: No way, you just provided a super awesome picture.
I remembered the busy work he said before, and subconsciously stroked the back of his hand.
MC: Is your research over?
Lucien: It's just ended today.
MC: Why didn't you take a break first...
MC: It’s a few hours’ drive from Loveland City to here.
Lucien: Compared to the past few months, a few hours is nothing.
Lucien: Besides, someone suggested before that I should give myself a wish to face the problems.
Lucien: Now that the problems have been resolved, I will come to realize this wish.
I looked into his eyes and suddenly understood what his "wish" was that he didn't tell me that day.
MC: But we have to go back to the countryside after the filming today. Is such a short time enough?
Lucien: Not enough.
Lucien: But the moment I saw you, I still thought it was worth it.
Lucien: I just don't know.. Does this suit the "going home" theme required by the big producer?
I looked at his questioning expression, and couldn't help but gently squeezed his face again.
MC: Totally suitable.
MC: Lucien, welcome back.
--
Part 4 - Memory Silhouette
After a brief reunion, Lucien will return to Loveland City.
After the filming was over, my colleagues took the equipment back first, Lucien and I got on the bus to the station.
There were not many people on the bus at this time. We sat side by side by the window, and the neon lights circling outside the window passed by.
This short reunion still made me a little dazed. I stared at Lucien's reflection on the car window, as if I couldn't see enough.
The bus stopped for one stop, opening and closing the gap between the doors, Lucien turned around, with a helpless smile on the corners of his lips.
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Lucien: Suddenly holding it so tightly, are you afraid that I will run away?
He raised our tangled hands, and I realized that I had just accidentally used some strength.
I let go hastily, and reluctantly hooked his finger again.
MC: It's a bit, after all, "sweet dreams" are always too short.
Lucien: If this is your dream, don't worry, it won't slip away easily.
Lucien gently folded his fingers and clasped my fingers.
Lucien: Speaking of it, I'm very curious, why didn't you choose the Loveland City for your shooting this time?
I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.
MC: Loveland City is a bit far away from us, and suitable shooting sites have not been approved for various reasons.
MC: But there is another reason that I don’t want to shoot in Loveland City.
Lucien: Hm?
I paused and thought about the words before I spoke.
MC: At first, everyone was back at their home. If they were in Loveland City, they might not even want to work.
MC: Especially knowing that I'm in the same city as you, I can't help but feel sorrowful.
Lucien smiled and stroked the back of my hand lightly.
MC: But how do I remember that you seem to have sneaked back once halfway through?
MC: Huh?! How did you know..
I looked up at him in surprise, but Lucien smiled and clenched my hand, pulling me closer.
Lucien: When you called me that day, it was in the store, right?
Lucien: There is an activity label on the shelf behind you, and I saw the words Loveland City.
Lucien: Moreover, the call that day was particularly smooth. Normally, your signal in the village should not be so good.
MC: ... Then why didn't you break through me?
Lucien: You look a little shaken, I have been waiting for you to tell me why.
Lucien: But you didn't, and you comforted me in turn.
Lucien: So I guess, at that time, you didn't really want to escape, you were just pissing off, or wanted to calm down, right?
The stop announcement of the bus intervened in our conversation, and after a short stop, we continued to move forward.
The night scene outside the window quickly receded, and only Lucien's smiling eyes stayed on me.
I secretly sighed in my heart. Maybe it is because he always looks at me like this that he can always guess any of my thoughts.
MC: I should have guessed it a long time ago, nothing can be hidden from you...
MC: But thanks to you chatting with me at that time, I didn't really waver.
MC: Knowing that someone was waiting for me to go home, it instantly became full of energy.
Lucien: Silly, you have worked very hard.
Lucien: Compared with the past, you already become stronger and braver.
Lucien: Instead, I need to get strength from you now.
I looked at his slightly frowning eyebrows, and there was a burst of soreness in my heart, and I leaned over to embrace his waist.
MC: Can this give you a strength?
Lucien: Hmm... But maybe you have to hug a little tighter.
MC: You are shameless.
With that said, I moved my body and moved closer to him.
A muffled chuckle came from the top of his head, and the temperature between his arms soon covered his back. I leaned on his shoulder and suddenly thought of something.
MC: By the way Lucien, who told you about the filming location?
Lucien: If I told you, would you blame that person?
MC: Of course, it's not right to disclose the itinerary privately
MC: But criticism belongs to criticism. Since it was revealed to you, I will still personally thank this person
I reluctantly rubbed his chin and buried my face in his shoulder.
I felt Lucien resting lightly on the top of my head, and a slight vibration followed his voice.
Lucien: I'll tell you when your work is all over.
Lucien: Now there are only two weeks left, and we can enter the countdown to go home.
Lucien: I hope that when you see me again, you can still be as happy as you are today.
MC: I will definitely be happier than today.
The bus kept entering and leaving the station, muting our tail sound in the slightly bumpy carriage.
I counting in my mind, there are three stops, two stops, one stop left. I'm going to say goodbye to him again.
However, the rainy season is about to pass.
I think it will be a clear sky on the day of reunion again.
--
Part 5 - Main Story
The three-month shooting is finally over.
Before the hottest day came, I quickly packed my luggage and returned to Loveland City.
As soon as I got out of the station, I immediately looked around, looking for Lucien's figure.
The moment I dragged the box in the crowd, a familiar call suddenly came from my ear.
??: MC!
I turned my head and saw Lucien standing outside the security line of the station, his eyes gazed deeply on me.
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MC: Lucien!
MC: Excuse me, please let me-
I dragged my luggage around the crowd, and ran towards him. Seeing Lucien, I rushing towards him, I simply let go of the luggage and jumped into his arms.
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Lucien: .... Be careful.
Lucien warned me like this, but his arm had already hugged me tightly.
Rarely, he didn't lean over to hug me and carried almost all of my weight in his arms. I had to stand on tiptoe so I could barely touch the ground.
There was a slight suffocation in the chest, and none of us willing to let go.
MC: Lucien... I miss you so much.
Lucien: I miss you too.
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A low breathing sound came from my ear, Lucien let go of me a little bit, his fingertips slid from the top of my head to my shoulders, followed by his eyes inch by inch.
Lucien: Our big producer seems to be tanned, tired and thin.
MC: Really?
I also raised my hand and stroked Lucien's cheek, rubbing it with affection.
MC: Our Professor Lucien has also lost a lot.
MC: It seems that I have to eat more delicious supplements these days!
Lucien smiled and nodded, and pulled the two luggage behind me.
Lucien: Then let's go home.
MC: Well, this time I really "go home"!
--
After returning to my home after a long absence, looking at the familiar furnishings, I finally let go of the tension that had been in the past few days.
Tired from the long journey, I quickly changed my clothes, walked into the room and opened the curtains, and at a glance I saw the flowers that Lucien kept on the windowsill.
It is a new variety that has never been seen before, and it is still in full bloom.
Lucien walked up to me and was slightly taken aback at the scene on the balcony.
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Lucien: ... It seems to be brighter than I imagine.
MC: Imagine?
[DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT 1 KILOGRAM OF ONIONS??!]
Lucien's eyes flickered. I thought maybe he didn't know much about flower arrangements, so I volunteered to pick up an empty vase.
MC: It’s okay, just a little adjustment.
I picked a few flowers of similar color from a few bunches of flowers, trimmed them briefly, and put them in the empty vase again.
MC: Look, is this better?
Lucien: It looks a lot better.
Lucien: Before, I just followed the maintenance instructions to raise it, but it turned out that it needed to be adjusted like this.
MC: The most important thing is to keep the flowers well, I just add a little ornamental.
Lucien: In order to make flowers and people happy, it is best for us to raise them together.
Lucien: If you raise it next time, can you please help me arrange the flowers?
MC: Of course, it's on me!
I raised my head confidently, Lucien rubbed my hair with a smile.
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Lucien: In return, I have a small gift for you.
Lucien turned around, picked up a small box from the coffee table and handed it to me, opened the box and there was a lipstick inside. The authentic rose red reminds me of the handwriting printed on the transparent umbrella on that rainy night.
Lucien: Choosing lipstick for the first time, I don't know if you like it.
MC: It looks so beautiful...Why would you think of buying lipstick?
Lucien: I just think this one should suit you well.
Lucien: Want to try it?
MC: Yes!
I picked up the mirror on the table and was about to turn the mouth red, and suddenly met Lucien's gaze from the mirror.
MC: You, why are you looking at me all the time.
Lucien: Can't I watch it?
MC: Not really, just a little embarrassed...
I turned around while I was talking, only to find that he was still looking at me in good time.
MC: .... Lucien!
He was amused by the way I was bulging. He seemed to think a little bit, and came over to take the mirror from my hand.
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Lucien: Sorry, it's been a long time since I looked at you like this, I really don't want to miss any of your expressions.
Lucien: But if you are not used to it, I have a compromise.
Lucien: I'll help you put it on, how about it?
This fresh proposal made my eyes bright, and I quickly turned to face him.
MC: Okay, I won’t miss any of Professor Lucien’s special offer!
MC: But did you even know this...
Lucien: I'm not that good, and I may need you to be a "guinea pig."
Lucien: But I will try to be careful.
MC: It doesn't matter, Professor Lucien's "fault tolerance" here is very high.
Lucien: It seems that this is a special treatment for me.
Lucien: Come, sit by my side.
Lucien took me to sit on the sofa, tucked the hair beside my face behind my ears, and then focused on the lipstick.
He opened the lid skillfully, and squeezed it unnaturally
His gaze rested on my lips for a while, and I opened my mouth slightly in cooperation before he made the first stroke.
The moisturizing paste pushed against the lower lip, Lucien lifted my chin unconsciously, extending the color stroke by stroke.
His movements were very light, I was a little itchy, and was blocked by him, so I couldn't move, so I kept blinking and looking around.
Lucien seemed to have not noticed my struggle, so he put on lipstick slowly and didn't forget to look around, as if admiring his own work.
Lucien: This color really suits you, and looks better than I imagine.
MC: Is it "imagination" again?
Lucien: ,After all, it is a gift for you. Since I bought it, I have been imagining the way you put it on.
Lucien: Now, I can finally see it with my own eyes.
Lucien's fingertips gently rubbed along the edge of my lower lip, as if tracing its shape.
I caught a glimpse of the flowers behind him, and my heart trembled slightly.
I don't know how Lucien faced his longing, maybe it was a short daze interspersed with his busy work, maybe it was a "wish" in my heart...
I didn't deliberately think about it, but I felt that it was like a shadow.
I gently held his face and looked at him seriously.
MC: Lucien, now I am back.
MC: Whatever you think of or what you want me to do, you can tell me directly.
MC: After all, during this time, I have also accumulated a lot of wishes about you...
MC: Just as we "compensate" each other!
Lucien looked at me in silence for a while, and finally raised the corners of his mouth.
Lucien: Since I got my wish just now, now it's your turn.
Lucien: What do you want me to "compensate" for you?
I spread out Lucien's hands, seeing that there was still the lipstick that he had just rubbed off on his fingers.
I suddenly realized that it is precisely because there is no barrier at the moment that we can directly leave marks on each other.
And the long separation that I experienced made me want to be more greedy at this moment, leaving more proof of existence around each other.
I followed my heart to stood up and kissed his lips.
Lucien: ...
The newly applied lipstick rubbed against the corners of his lips, like a small blooming flower, dotted on his fair skin.
This color is really beautiful.
MC: If I want this kind of compensation... is that okay?
Lucien met my gaze, raised his hand and rubbed the corner of his lips, and suddenly laughed.
Lucien: Of course you can.
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He hugged me up and let me sit on his lap.
Sunlight spreads on us through the gauze curtain, adding warmth to the narrow distance.
Lucien: I thought before that you might need to adjust to your original life for a while... Lucien: Now it seems that I am the one who has been worrying too much.
I took the lipstick from his hand and made a few letters out of thin air.
MC: Remember the "pathos" we talked about before?
Lucien: Yes, I remember.
MC: Later, I read the book carefully and found that there are actually two kinds of misses described by this word.
Not only do I miss the other person when we are separated, but even if the other person is right in front of me, I still long for him.
MC: So, although we are not in the same place in the past few months...
MC: But to me, I never felt separated from you.
Lucien raised his head slightly and looked at me, his eyes seemed to be filled with shards of light.
Lucien: So, even if I am a little greedy now, is it okay?
MC: It’s okay.
Lucien: I not only want to see unique colors, but I also want to leave colors related to me in it.
Lucien: Is it okay?
He took my shoulders and seemed to draw something on my shoulders with his fingertips.
I lowered my head and looked over. The little red he rubbed with his fingertips just now was drawing another "flower" on my shoulder.
MC: Of course, after all... this color suits me very well.
Lucien stared at me deeply, his gaze slowly sliding from my eyes to my lips.
In the drenched sunlight, he held my face and dropped a feather-like kiss on my lips. The soft touch feels like a kind of gentle comfort, which makes me fall into it bit by bit.
I closed my eyes and felt him pull my chin slightly. I opened my mouth slightly, and his breath quickly swept through my perception.
The jaw was clamped by him, and a slight pain melted into the hot breath, which made the kiss look a little eager.
I put my arms around the back of his neck and responded carefully, the pain quickly dissipated, and he asked for it even more with burning sensation.
The faint scent of rouge faints between the lips, I don't know if it comes from the lipstick on his lips or mine.
The shoulders were gradually clasped by him, and the cold air from the air conditioner came in through his fingers and was warmed by his palm.
Every skin that touches him is conveying pleasant sensations. I keep my eyes closed, but my eyes are full of brilliance.
The wet and rainy season that I have just spent alone is all illuminated by the snuggle at this time.
I don't know how long it took, the temperature on my lips slowly faded, I opened my eyes and saw a mess of rose red on Lucien's lips.
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MC: Lucien, the lipstick--
Lucien: It's all spent.
We reached out to each other at the same time, trying to wipe off the fainted lipstick. But no matter how you rub it, it will leave a shallow trace.
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We looked at each other in embarrassment and couldn't help laughing together.
MC: What to do.. am I ugly now?
Lucien: No, it's cute.
The eyes of the person in front of me are like water, and the sunlight seems to have washed away the complexities in these eyes, showing a bit of pure satisfaction.
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Lucien embraced me again and stroked my hot cheek patiently.
Lucien: Any other wishes?
MC: There are a lot more, I feel I can't finish it for several days.
Lucien: It doesn't matter, I will be with you for many days.
Lucien: Those missing seasons, let us make up for it together
--
Notes from me: I can’t helped but giggling and crying over this date. The writer really gave us how Lucien’s feelings towards MC. They will loved each other for sure, with any circumstances ahead them. My wish just, please give them a happy moment like flying kite maybe? Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog and always reading Lucien’s date, and give him love~ xoxo
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alltooreid · 3 years
Text
Clean
As Spencer struggles to overcome his dilaudid addiction, Y/N is dealing with an addiction of her own, to her toxic, manipulative boyfriend. This is an account of a full year, following their joint journeys to sobriety and new love.
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A/N: Hi!! I have another Taylor Swift inspired Spencer Reid one shot (but of course you do not need to know the song to understand the one shot). Although originally I was going to write something more fluffy, I switched to this song to write something more angsty and interesting. However, to change pace from my last one shot, this one has a much happier, hopeful ending. However, it is very triggering so please read the trigger warnings before you start. Also, if you have any songs you want to read please let me know!! Also, if you just have a general request please send it my way! Thank you so much for the love on my All Too Well one shot, I never thought my first fanfic on here would be so well received!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Type: Angst, but hopeful angst
Word Count: 7.6K
Content Warnings: Cursing, mentally and physically abusive relationship, relationship cheating (ie, reader is being cheated on), blood and cuts description, drug addiction (these parts are kept short purposefully), lots of fighting and yelling both in reader’s relationship and between Spencer and reader, however, there is a happy and hopeful ending. Reader is struggling to get out of her toxic relationship, please no comments about her being stupid. If you are in a situation like Y/N, please don’t use this fic as a guide. Get help immediately. https://www.thehotline.org/
Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments, the time and date headers serve as time skips :) let me know what you think! Please request any songs you would like to see be made one shots!
“You're still all over me Like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore Hung my head as I lost the war And the sky turned black like a perfect storm”
3:27 AM, April 16th, 2007.
You have known Spencer for a long time. In fact, you’ve known him longer than you’ve known Randall, and you’ve felt like you’ve known Randall your entire life.
Maybe that’s because you let him become your entire life.
Still, although you had known Spencer for 7 years, 2 years longer than the entirety of your on again, off again relationship with Randall. You still felt weird calling him. He was going through a lot right now, not that he wasn’t normally. Spencer had one of the most difficult jobs you could think of. You know Spencer has shot and killed people before, and you know every time he did it ate him up inside.
And every time he did he called you.
You also knew that Spencer is one of the kindest people you have ever met, you struggle to imagine him wielding a gun on a daily basis. He just seems too sweet, too perfect.
Yet there was a lot you didn’t know about the young genius.
You have no idea that as you stand in the street, contemplating whether you should call Spencer to come and get you, Spencer is making a difficult decision of his own. As you worry about the possibility of waking Spencer up this early in the morning, Spencer sits wide awake and ponders if he has enough time to get high before he has to leave for work in 3 hours.
As you sit on the side of the road, debating between your very few options, Spencer leads up against the side of his bathtub tears pouring down his cheeks, tears that he doesn’t even register as being there.
Fortunately for the both of you, at the same time Spencer reaches into his bag to search for that tiny glass bottle, his phone begins to ring.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
You sigh, “He kicked me out again Spencer, is there anyway you can come get me?”
Spencer looks around his apartment, frantically hiding the belt and the needles he had gotten out for the events he was anticipating. “Yeah, of course I can come get you, um, just give me a couple minutes and send me your location.”
3:52 AM, April 16th, 2007.
You’re in the passenger’s seat of Spencer’s car, both of you sitting in silence. This situation isn’t new to either of you, Spencer has picked you up plenty of times before, in fact he’s done it for years now. One time, about 3 years into your relationship with Randall, you were permitted to go out by yourself with Spencer’s team, they wanted to meet you, apparently Spencer talked about you all the time. While you were at dinner with them, Morgan asked you if you had a car of your own. You explained that you did, but that your boyfriend had it a majority of the time, and that when he didn’t he hated you using it because you always had to mess with everything. He hates you touching his stuff. Morgan made a weird face about that answer, so you quickly followed up, explaining that you didn’t mind.
You do mind though. You hate how he never lets you touch anything or go anywhere, and you hate how much he despises your only form of transportation.
Spencer.
Randall hates everything about Spencer Reid, and he especially hates seeing his car pull into your driveway. That’s why after the 8th time he kicked you out, you started walking half a mile to the nearest gas station before calling Spencer.
The first time Spencer came to get you Randall came out to talk to you before you left.
“What are you doing? Who is this?”
“It’s Spencer, he’s gonna take me to his apartment.” you explained, confused why Randall was so angry you were leaving when he was the one who had kicked you out.
“Oh so just because I don’t want to look at your bitchass all night that means you can go sleep with another man? I knew you were a whore Y/N. You know him and his stupid fucking car aren’t going to be able to deal with you the way I can. How old is that thing anyway?”
“Randall, calm down, I’m not sleeping with Spencer. I love you, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. But I’m not gonna sit out here all night, where else should I go?”
“Well maybe if you weren’t so quick to whore yourself out to the easiest man you could find I would invite you back inside,” he said before slamming the door in your face.
So you got in Spencer’s car, the one Randall would grow to hate so much.
“Are you okay Y/N? He didn’t hit you did he? You know you can come live with me, you should really get out of that house, I can get Morgan tomorrow and we can go get your belongings. I have plenty of-”
You snapped at him, “No Spencer he’s not hitting me! Why do you always jump to that conclusion, Randall is a great guy! I would’ve never called you if you were going to jump to conclusions like this. You’re supposed to be a genius, yet you’re acting like such a dumb ass right now.”
Spencer looked at you, and immediately you regretted your words. You knew Spencer was just worried about you and with his line of work he had reason to be. However before you could apologize he spoke again.
“I’m sorry Y/N, forget I said anything.”
You both sat in silence for a few moments before you even knew what to say, and yet all you could think of was, “Hey Spence, what kind of car do you drive?”
He smiled, “It’s a 1965 Volvo Amazon P130 122S, it’s horizon blue, that’s the color they refer to it as. Did you know they’re known as so reliable that the 4 door models are still used as police vehicles in some places. This one’s a two door, but still runs great. . . “
You smiled, how fitting a man as reliable as Spencer Reid had the perfect car to match.
When you get to Spencer’s apartment something seems off. Spencer has always lived in organized chaos, but this just feels different. Unlike his normal mess, this one feels like a blatant disregard for his things, even some of his most prized possessions. His books are strewn across the floors, his clothes overflowing from his laundry basket, which was a mix of both folded, clean, yet to be put away things and worn items. Weirdly, the one place that looks untouched is his kitchen, as if he hasn’t used it in months. And you mean that in the most literal interpretation, his counters are covered in visible, undisturbed dust.
“Thank you so much Spencer, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
He smiles, but his eyes look so tired. “Don’t worry about it Y/N.”
And at 4:47, you finally fall asleep in Spencer’s bedroom, which he insists you take, and he stays awake until he leaves for work just a few hours later.
9:33 PM, April 17th, 2007.
You leave Spencer’s apartment the following night, after an unfortunate screaming match with him. You have never seen him so angry, so easily ticked off. Yet as soon as Randall called you Spencer became aggressive.
“Yeah babe, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll take a cab and be home within the hour. Of course I’m not mad at you sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean it. I love you, see you soon.”
Spencer exitted his kitchen in a huff, and opened his mouth to start talking before you spoke up.
“I’m sure you’ve overheard already, but Randall’s letting me back in the house. Thank you so much Spence. I really appreciate everything you do to help me. Call me soon please, I definitely owe you lunch,” you said, grabbing your coat and your phone, the only things you had managed to grab from your home before your unplanned eviction.
“Why do you even stay with him Y/N? Why do you keep going back there?” Spencer yelled. You had never seen him like this before, so livid and irritable.
“I love him Spence, and he loves me,” you explained, and you were telling the truth. You do love Randall, and you know that in his heart he loves you too, even if he got a little angry sometimes.
“If he loved you he wouldn’t treat you like this Y/N! Don’t you think I would know? I see this everyday! It’s my job! And yet my best friend is too stupid to realize she’s been in an abusive relationship for almost 6 years!”
You were just as angry now, “You’re wrong Spencer, I don’t wanna hear this okay? I love Randall and he loves me. We deserve each other.”
Spencer’s face softened before growing angry once more, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Fuck you Spencer, I’m going home. I don’t need you and I don't need your help,” you said, grabbing your things and slamming the door open. You were lying, you need Spencer and you need his help more than anything, but you didn’t want to admit that while he was being such a dick.
“Fine!” he yelled, “Go run back to him then, but you better not call me when he kicks you out again. I don’t care anymore!”
And so you left, Spencer slammed the door behind you as you stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t stop to think about the fact that Spencer never acts like this. He has never lashed out at you, never questioned your relationship with Randall to your face, let alone scream at you and insult you because of it. You didn’t stop and think about what Spencer was on, or not on, that was making his act like this.
But you thought about it now.
You want to get home before Randall starts to get upset and suspicious, but now after your fight with Spencer you have to walk home. You couldn’t ask him to borrow cash for a cab, let alone ask him to drive you there. You were stuck walking, which also meant you were stuck with Randall’s wrath when you returned.
You already feel terrible about the way you treated Spencer. You think about going to apologize, and stand in front of the door for a second, weighing the pros and cons of doing so. Eventually, you go to turn away, ultimately deciding that you both needed to calm down before speaking to each other again.
Yet as you turn, the door opens. Spencer stands right there, strangely calm, seemingly out of it. All fury and anger you had seen just minutes before gone. In this moment he resembles Randall, and it's the first time you’ve ever been able to draw any comparison to the two.
It’s scary.
“Spencer I-” but you get cut off, not by words, but by an object. Before you can even register what was just thrown in your face the door is closed again. You duck down to grab what was thrown.
Twenty dollars.
For the cab ride home.
1:34 AM, April 23rd, 2007.
You light the final candle on your dining room table, before stepping back to admire your work. Randall always came home so late from work, so you rarely ate dinner together. But today was your anniversary, so you stayed up late, prepared his favorite meal and set up all of your fancy dinnerware so that you could have a very late dinner together before he goes to bed and you go to work. He should be home any minute now.
Yet 3 hours later Randall is not back. You’re just about to cut your losses and call it a night, and start to clean up the melted down candles and cold steak dinner as you hear your front door open.
“Y/N! What are you doing still awake?”
“Do you know what day it is Randall? Because I do.”
He looks down at his watch, checks the time, and looks back up at you, “Well it is now 3:57 AM, meaning it is now Monday. Which is why I’m curious as to what you’re still doing up sweetheart, you have to be at work in 3 hours.” “There’s something special about THIS Monday Randall,” you sigh, you’re disappointed but not surprised, this has happened for the past 3 years.
“Do you have a project going on at work baby? You know I can’t keep track of all that crap, your job is so silly and easy to lose track of. You have to remind me of these things if you actually want me to care about them.”
“It’s our anniversary Randall.”
He stops, but instead of looking guilty or remorseful (like you secretly hoped), he gets livid, “No it’s not, are you stupid or something?”
“Randall, baby it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”
“No! You stupid fucking bitch, are you trying to make me look bad, cooking this stupid fancy dinner and staying up late. Trying to lie and act like I forgot our five year anniversary?! Stop playing the victim Y/N. So tell me, are you lying to make me feel bad, or is your brain really that fucking empty?”
“It’s our six year anniversary,” you whisper.
“What did you just say?”
“I said I was just being stupid Randall. You’re right baby, I forgot the date of our anniversary.”
He snarls. “I don’t think so Y/N, I think, actually I know that not only are you stupid, but that you’re a liar. I know that you just want to make me look bad by preparing our anniversary dinner a week early. And you have to push it by claiming we’ve been together for six years. I know it’s five. I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” you cry.
“NO YOU’RE NOT!” he yells, pushing his plate of steak and mashed potatoes, letting your parent’s wedding china shatter on the ground. You cry harder. “You’re a stupid, waste of my time Y/N. Five wasted years I’ve spent on you. Do you know why I do it, huh. Do you know why I stay with you when I could have one of the beautiful, rich, successful, truthful women I’m fucking?”
You shake your head.
“It’s because I feel pity for you. No other man would want you. I’m the only one that will ever love you. You know that right Y/N?” He picks up a piece of your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. “Tell me that I’m the only one who will love you, you know it’s the truth right?” You nod your head. In a swift motion Randall turns, grabs a glass full of red wine and chucks it at the wall, narrowly avoiding your left ear.
“I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.”
“You’re the only one who will ever love me Randall,” you croak out in between sobs.
He closes the distance between you two once more, gripping your chin and jerking your face so that your eyes meant his. It hurts, and makes you cry more, but you don’t say anything.
“Don’t you know it sweetness,” he lets go, delivers a sharp slap to your check and grips your wrist. “Now clean your mess up, and then I think it’s best if you get out of the house for a little bit, don’t you agree?”
You nod quickly. He smiles.
“Good girl, now I would normally be worried about you going to hook up with that string bean you’re always all over, but according to the last time I went through your phone, he isn’t in your recent calls. Glad to know he’s finally done with your bullshit. I’m sure a nice long walk alone will do you good. You can think about what led you to lying tonight, and then maybe you can come back in time for our real anniversary.”
He slips upstairs, so you clean up the rest of the uneaten meal and the broken wine class, cutting up your hands severely in the process. You spend at least an hour in a futile attempt to get red wine stains off of your wallpaper, before grabbing your phone and purse and running out the door.
Even after what Randall says, you still think about calling Spencer. Your thumb hovers over the call button for a minute until you switch the contact, phoning your boss instead. You inform her you need a personal day, and that it’s a family emergency.
You check the time, 6:53. Spencer is almost definitely on his way to work right now. You want to call him so bad, but the things he said you ring through your mind. You can’t ask for his help anymore.
For the first time, you are truly on your own.
Until a familiar horizon blue Volvo pulls up next to the curb you’re sitting on, and Spencer Reid sticks his head out the window.
“Y/N? What are you doing here? Get it the car, come on I’ll drive you to work with me.”
Confused as you are, this is your best option right now. So you climb into the passenger seat of his car, refusing to make eye contact with him, instead looking at your bleeding hands. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re bleeding. Did Randall do this to you? Why didn’t you call me?”
“No, Spencer, Randall didn’t do this to me. He dropped a wine glass and I helped him pick it up. Now just drive.” And he does, drive that is. But you can feel his stares, on your cut up hands, and you forming bruises. You can feel him profiling the signs of abuse on your body.
But more than that you hate that you can feel he’s upset with you. Upset because you didn’t call him. Does he not remember screaming at you not too?
He pulls into the parking lot, parks the car and finally turns to make eye contact with you. He has tears in his, “I really wish you would’ve called me Y/N. If it’s getting this bad I want you to stay with me.”
“Spencer am I going insane?”
“Of course not, what do you mean?” he looks so gentle, so kind and you’re so confused.
“Do you remember what day me and Randall started dating?”
“Yes, it was April 23rd, 2001. 6 years ago today actually. Is that why he did this to you? Does it have anything to do with that?”
“How can you remember that but not our screaming match a week ago?” you laughed, your hands burned now, there’s definitely glass in there, you swear you can feel the tiny little shards in your blood.
“What do you mean, Y/N? We didn’t scream at each other? I haven’t even seen you in weeks. How long has he been hitting you? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“Spencer, on the 16th you picked me up and took me back to your apartment because Randall kicked me out. On the evening of the 17th I went to leave because Randall told me I could come home. You said I was being abused and called me stupid for going back to him. When we fought about it I stormed out and you told me not to call you if he kicked me out again because you didn’t care anymore. That’s why I didn’t call you.”
You look up at Spencer, and nearly start crying yourself when you see his crumpled face. Tears are freely spilling down his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t remember that,” he pushes his long hair out of his face, clearly frazzled, “I- I can’t believe I don’t remember that.”
Before you can say anything, Spencer pulls out his phone. “Hey Hotch, it’s me. I can’t come in today. I need to use a personal day. . . I’ll tell you later. Okay, thank you” He angrily pulls out of the parking lot, and you can tell he’s headed back to his apartment.
“Spencer it’s okay, I’m not upset with you.”
“No Y/N, it’s not okay. I said all those terrible things to you, of course you were scared to call me after them. The worst part is I was too high to even remember it all. I- I just can’t believe I helped him do this to you,” tears still freely flowing down his face.
“Spencer what are you talking about? I was with you all day, you weren’t high. You don’t even drink, how could you be high?”
He sighs, “do you remember when I was kidnapped by that unsub, Tobias Hankel? About 2 months ago?” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Well, I told you about his multiple personalities, how one beat me to death and then Tobias resurrected me, how  I had to kill Tobias in order to survive, even though Tobias himself did nothing to me. Well when I was in the barn, Tobias would give me drugs, dilaudid, in order to cut the pain of his other personalities’ abuse. When I killed him, I took the drugs he had one him with me, and I can’t stop Y/N. It’s affecting my life, my work, and now it’s affecting you.” He parks his car in his apartment complex’s lot and turns to look at you. “Hotch has never said anything about it, so even though the team knows I have no reason to quit, I think I do now. Y/N, I think we need to get clean together.”
Suddenly that night made sense, Spencer was irritable and strange, he wasn’t high, he was going through withdrawal. But when he threw the money at you, so loopy and out of it, he was on it. He was so high he didn’t remember the moments before.
“Spencer, I don't know what to say. I want to help you get sober, I want that more than anything, but I’m not addicted to drugs, I rarely even drink.”
“I know Y/N, you don’t have a drug problem like me, but you are an addict. You need to leave Randall. You know it, I know it, but you can’t.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Spencer continues to speak, “It’s okay, I understand why. But we both need to quit, and I think it’s best if we do it together.”
“Well how are we supposed to do that,” you whisper.
“Come on, let’s get started,” you and Spencer exit his car, he loops your hands together, leading you up to his apartment. When you get there, he digs through his messenger bag and grabs a couple of tiny glass bottles and a syringe. He throws them into his garbage can, and turns to look at you.
“Pull out your phone.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re going to block Randall’s number.”
You want to fight him on it, but you know he’s right. You need to leave Randall, and now’s as good of a time as any. Yet, you can’t forget the things he’s said to you. “I can’t Spencer, he’s my boyfriend, he loves me.”
“Y/N, please, please do this with me.” You shake your head, he sighs. “Okay, I get it, this is going to take time. Just, um, stay with me for a couple days. Please. We can go get your stuff tomorrow night.”
You think about rejecting Spencer’s offer, but you really don’t want to go back there. More than anything, you want to stay right here. You try to tell yourself it’s because you’re worried about Spencer, but deep down you know it’s more than that. So you nod, and Spencer wraps you in a hug, burying his head into your shoulder.
“Thank you, Y/N. Now let’s go get your hands wrapped up.”
9:21 PM, May 2nd, 2007.
You’ve been staying at Spencer’s for just over a week now. You haven’t seen Randall since your anniversary, and Spencer hasn’t taken dilaudid while you’ve been here. Things are going well. You’re watching a lot of bad reality TV, and Spencer has gone through about 7 packs of Gatorade, but you’re both doing okay.
Now you were just waiting for him to come back from his case in Idaho, you knew this one was pretty bad. They were searching for a woman in the middle of a huge forest, as she was being hunted and chased down. Spencer called you right before getting on the jet, and told you he would be home soon, so now you were just waiting for him.
While doing so however, you found something. A lump on Spencer’s side of the mattress. Under it, were two small glass bottles and a syringe. The same ones you had seen Spencer throw into the garbage days prior.
Now you need to talk to Spencer, so you sit on his couch, and wait for him to come home. When he comes through the door, he immediately sees you and smiles. “Y/N! I’ve missed you.” He hugs you, and for a second you forget why you’re even mad at him in the first place.
“Spencer, I need to talk to you. I found your bottles.” The mood in the room instantly shifts, but you don’t care, you need to get your words out. “You told me you were quitting, I watched you throw them away.”
He brushes his hairs through his hair, and begins to mess with his hands. “I am quitting Y/N, I haven't taken any, but. . .  I just need them to be there.”
“Spencer, please, throw them away. I’m trying to help you here.” Suddenly he grows very angry, and you can tell you said the wrong thing.
“Well I’m trying too. To me it seems the only one not trying is you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you still haven’t blocked Randall, he still calls all the time! Why do I have to throw my addiction away if you can’t even do the same to yours?”
“That's not fair.”
“How so?” he yells. “How is it that you can’t block your abusive, no good piece of shit boyfriend but I have to throw away the things I enjoy? That doesn’t feel like trying to me.”
“I’m not addicted to Randall Spencer, I just love him. I don’t want or need to quit him.”
“Oh really? Then why are you even still here? Why haven’t you answered his calls? Or gone to see him? I think you know exactly why.”
And you do. You don’t want to go back there, but what Randall says is true. He is the only one who will love you, and you’re not ready to lose that yet. You’re not ready to cut off all contact with him.
“I can leave if that’s what you want Spencer.”
His face softened, “no, that’s not what I want. That’s the last thing I want.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “If you block Randall I’ll throw away my dilaudid.”
You ponder it, “Okay.”
He breaks into a wide smile. “Really? You’ll do it?”
You smile at him.
“Yeah, I promise. I’ll block Randall.”
6:56 PM, May 30th, 2007.
You did not block Randall.
Even after watching Spencer pour out his bottles, breaking up the glass and tossing it away for a second time, you couldn’t. Even after seeing him snap his syringes in half, and feeling him kiss your forehead, after seeing how happy and excited he was for your fresh start together, you just couldn’t do it.
Spencer thought you did, and it was easy to hide the truth from him. Randall hadn’t called since then, so you and Spencer continue to spend time together, last week you celebrated one month of sobriety. You got an ice cream cake and little, silly party hats and exchanged gifts.
And it made you feel like shit.
Spencer was so happy, so proud that you had both been clean for a month, but you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to be clean at all.
You still can’t decide if you should block Randall’s number.  
You try not to think about it, instead focusing the energy into making you and Spencer virgin pina coladas, he was currently out picking up burgers from your favorite restaurant. When he returns, you were going to watch one of your crappy reality TV reruns, and then an episode of Doctor Who. It was Spencer’s idea a couple days ago, and quickly it became a regular occurrence.
Faintly over the loud whir of the blender you can hear your phone ringing. You run  quickly to go grab it, just in case Spencer needed your help with something, but your heart drops when you see the caller ID. It’s Randall, trying once again to contact you.
Your thumb hovers over the accept button, but before you can make a decision, the call times out and sends Randall to voicemail. You let out a breath and set your phone down.
But then something possesses you, and you snatch your phone and dial Randall’s number. He picks up on the 3rd ring.
“Baby, oh my god baby is that really you?”
He sounds so excited to hear from you, how could you have stayed mad at him for so long?
“Yes baby, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls at all. I’ve been busy.”
“Don’t worry sweetness, I’m so so sorry for the things I said to you, I need you to come home. You missed our anniversary you know? But it’s okay! We can celebrate now! I got you a really beautiful gift, one we can definitely experiment with tonight.” You could hear his smirk over the phone.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to come back right now, maybe later baby, but not right now.”
You hear his breathing pick up, and tense. You can tell he’s getting agitated. He wasn’t expecting you to answer like that, you always come home as soon as he tells you you can come back. “What do you mean? You’re being ridiculous, I want to see my girlfriend. I’m sure you want to get off of the streets too, you’ve been squatting for over a month now.”
“I’m not squatting Randall, I’m living with Spencer.”
“What!?” he yells. “I thought I told you not to stay with him. I hate that guy, you know that.”
“Would you rather me be on the streets Randall? Spencer’s a great guy, and I want to stay here.”
“Frankly, yes I would. But don’t worry, you can still come home. Just send me the prick’s address and I’ll come pick you up. We can enjoy tonight together.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not going to send you Spencer’s address. I’m staying here. I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone Randall. I’m done.”
Before he could say anything, you hung up. As you did so you heard the front door open, and Spencer made his way to the bedroom.
“Hey! I got burgers! Ready to eat?” he looks down to see your phone still resting in your hand, stuck on the phone app. “Who were you talking to?”
“Just an old friend,” you say.
“Think you’ll be talking to them again anytime soon?” you can tell he knows, and you’re surprised he isn’t lashing out at you. You’re so used to how Randall reacts when you go against his wishes, Spencer’s calm, understanding presence is like a breath of fresh air.
“No, I think I’m ready to leave them behind,” you smile at each other. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a sec okay?”
He nods, and goes to set up the food and TV.
It takes you seven seconds to block Randall.
1:12 AM, June 10th, 2007.
You haven’t gone out with your coworkers in months, you forgot how good it feels to just be present with people. You didn’t even drink tonight, wanting to remember every second of this time out with friends. You were beaming when you unlocked the front door.
Yet your smile slips when you enter what had become you and Spencer’s shared bedroom.
He isn’t there.
You pull out your phone to call him when you hear a thud coming from the bathroom door. You hesitate, scared of what you know you’ll likely find. When you finally throw the door open you’re already teary eyed, and these sobs escalate as soon as you see Spencer, tipped over, lying on the bathroom floor, the needle still sticking out of his arm.
You’re sobbing as you rip it out, hastily undoing the belt wrapped around his upper forearm. He looks up, even in his groggy haze you can see the guilty look in his eyes when they made contact with yours.
“Y/N. . . I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me but I just couldn’t stop myself . . . I-”
“Shhh, It’s okay, just breathe,” you whisper through your tears. “It’s going to be okay Spencer, I’m here, and it’s going to be okay. I’m staying right here.” You pull his head into your lap, stroking your shaking hands through his hair.
His head begins to shake, and you can feel his tears on your dress. You rest your head on his, and for a few seconds you just sit there, crying together.
“You’re going to be okay Spencer.”
8:09 AM, June 11th, 2007.
Your head is buried in his chest, you need to be able to hear him breathe. You need to hear his heart beating. You need to be as close to him as possible right now. He stirs as he wakes up, and wraps his arms around you. 
“I’m so sorry Y/N.”
“Don’t apologize Spencer, this is a part of recovery okay? You’re still in recovery, just because you relapsed doesn’t mean we have to start over. You’re so much stronger than you were before. So much braver. So much better. You can do this.”
He smiles at you, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“Of course, now withdrawal is going to be even harder this time. I’m going to the store. We’re going to need plenty of Gatorade and water. We have to flush everything out of your system. Do you mind if I take your car to the store?”
He beams, even in his groggy state he manages to look so perfect, “You know my car is always yours to use Y/N.”
“I’ll be back soon okay? Don’t move a muscle,” you grab his keys and head out the door. And you really do mean it, you fully intend this to be the shortest grocery trip of your life. You’re terrified of leaving Spencer alone long enough to get high again, even though you spent all day yesterday searching for drugs and throwing anything you found in the garbage, taking it out the main apartment dumpster that night. 
You get to the store, grab everything you need, 3 packs of blue Gatorade, 6 cases of water bottles, and the store’s entire stock of Jell-O and rush back to Spencer’s car. You were only in the store for 17 minutes, the majority of which was just check-out time. You smile, thinking of how excited Spencer will be when he sees all the Jell-O in the fridge, but feel your stomach drop when you see a familiar face examining Spencer’s car.
Randall. 
Before you can decide what to do, he turns and sees you. 
“Y/N! I was expecting Spencer, but this is even sweeter. I knew I recognized this hunk of junk. Where have you been?”
“I’ve been around, I’m kind of on a tight schedule here. I really need to get going,” you say as you load up your groceries into Spencer’s trunk. 
“That’s a lot of Jell-O sweetheart, you hate Jell-O.” That’s not even true. You hate pudding, you love Jell-O.
As much as you wanted to yell at him for calling you sweetheart, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. You still missed him. Blocking him helped, but you still felt strong urges to call him sometimes. “It’s not for me, it’s for Spencer.”
“I thought I told you not to stay with him anymore.”
“What part of that conversation would make you think I would listen to you?” you say.
“You should always listen to me Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.”
“I haven’t seen you in months, we’re not dating anymore. I’m done.”
“You don’t mean that you’re just being irrational. Are you on your period? I bet that’s it. Come get breakfast with me. You probably just need chocolate, and the place down the block has incredible chocolate waffles.”
You open your mouth to reject him, but you can’t. Part of it is because you know if you do then he’ll follow you back to your apartment and the last thing you want is for him to know where you’re living right now. But the other part is much worse. A big part of you wants to let him try again. You can’t explain why, but you really want for him to redeem himself as your first love.
“Ok, you have 20 minutes, let’s go get breakfast.”
The walk there is silent and awkward. Randall grabs your hand, too tight for you to do anything about it, and keeps this grip until you sit down in your booth. 
You don’t get chocolate waffles. You really don’t even like chocolate all that much. Randall knows that, or at least you thought he did. Instead you get cinnamon french toast, and within minutes it’s at the table. 
“You know baby, Spencer doesn’t love you.” He says halfway through your french toast.
“We aren’t dating Randall.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been with him in that apartment for a while now. I’m surprised he hasn’t given you the boot.”
You sit in silence, Randall takes this as a sign to continue. “We’ve been together for five years, sweetness. No one can love you the way I do. That’s just a fact. Spencer fucking Reid can not replace me, no one can replace me.”
“I hate that you’re right. I hate that I can’t breathe when I’m not with you Randall. I hate that you’re stuck to me. You’re this god awful stain on my life. I hate looking at it but no matter what I do I can’t wash it off.”
He smirks. “You’re not gonna get rid of me Y/N.” He pays the check, and gets up from the table. You go to get up too, but notice he didn’t tip your waitress, so you leave another five bucks on the table. 
When you get outside he grasps your shoulders. “I knew you would come around Y/N, I knew you would get it. Now come on, we can go collect your stuff from that prick’s apartment and get you home. I know exactly how you can make it up to me.”
You pause, “I don’t think so Randall. I’m not ready quite yet, but I promise I’ll call you.” You meant it, you had already unblocked him from your phone.
“Oh absolutely not, you’re going home with me now.”
“No I’m not.” As you were yelling at each other you notice a strangely familiar face standing nearby, just in ear shot. You can’t place him, but you know you’ve met before.
“Yes you are! We’re happy together and you’re coming to live with me again!”
“We don’t love each other, Randall! Not right now at least!” 
He’s livid, and once again you feel that scared, indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach. “That’s not true! I’ll prove it to you.” He grabs your chin and pulls your face to his.
You feel as if water is filling your lungs, you’re drowning and no one is around to save you. Randall is physically stronger than you, you’re stuck in his grasp. It’s like you’re screaming and no one can hear you. 
And yet, this flood of emotions you’re feeling is the first time you realize something. 
You’re addicted to Randall.
You need to get out.
You need to get back to Spencer.
After what feels like minutes (but is actually about 3 seconds) of being unseen and vulnerable, you discover you’ve been protected the whole time. The man you can't place rips Randall off of you, “What’s wrong with you? Get off of her!”
It’s his voice that lets you place him. Derek Morgan, Spencer’s closest friend and coworker, punches Randall in the face. “Get out of here!”
“What the fuck is wrong with YOU? That’s my girlfriend! Sweetheart, tell him to leave us alone!”
They both turn and look at you, with tears in your eyes you look at Morgan and shake your head. “Please, get him to leave.”
And Morgan does just that, with a little yelling and a flash of his FBI badge, Randall is running for the hills.
“Come on baby girl, let’s get you back home. Did you walk here?”
You shake your head, “No, I drove Spencer’s car here.”
“Well, how bout I drive you home, and then afterwards I swing back and get Spencer’s car and drop it off?”
So you do just that. After profusely thanking Morgan, and him insisting that it was nothing, and also insisting to carry your groceries in from the car, you and Spencer are together once again. 
“I’m so sorry Spencer, I didn’t believe you before. I was going to go back to him. How could I be so stupid?”
“Don’t talk like that Y/N, you said it best yourself. Just because you relapse doesn’t mean you aren’t trying, and it most certainly doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”
“I think it’s time we get clean Spencer. Both of us, once and for all.”
“I think so too Y/N.”
He pulls you into a hug and in between sniffles you manage to choke out what you’ve been wanting to say since you got into Morgan’s car. “I love you.”
He looks at you, and the look in his eyes almost makes you cry out of pure joy. He looks so happy, as if he’s been waiting for you to say that for years. 
Maybe he has.
“I love you too.”
7:29 AM, April 16th, 2008.
You press your lips to Spencer’s, you know he has just woken up, but you know it’s a big day for him. 
You both have been sober for over ten months now. Today is the day of his first group meeting. He found Beltway Clean Cops recently, and has been so excited to go. You’re excited for him. You know how proud he is of you, and you want to show him in every way possible that you’re proud of him.
He opens his eyes and smiles up at you. “What did I deserve to get a wake up like that?”
“What kind of question is that? You’re incredible, and an incredible boyfriend deserves an incredible morning. Do you know what else he deserves?”
He hums and waits for the answer.
“An incredible breakfast! That’s why I made blueberry pancakes. Now hurry up and come eat. You should  leave soon if you want to make it to your meeting on time. Have I told you yet how incredibly proud I am of you?”
He smiles, “Only an average of 15.6 times a day since I told you I was going.”
“Well that’s not nearly enough, now come on, get up. It’s pancake time,” you say. “Oh, and Spencer?”
“Yes flower?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles, “I love you flower.”
“I love you more.”
You ate breakfast together and then forced Spencer out the door, making sure he had plenty of time to get to his meeting. You knew he would regret it if he was late. 
You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you still thought about Randall a lot. You still missed him. You still love him in a way. But now that you had Spencer, now that you were clean together, you would never risk going back to him. 
That day where you agreed to go to breakfast with him, Derek asked you if you wanted to press charges. You didn’t, you don’t regret that either.
You’re even more proud of yourself this way, because you know he’s still there, still accessible and available to you, and still didn’t run to him. You know that any trace of Randall in your future is gone. 
You know you and Spencer are finally clean.
“Ten months sober, I must admit Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it Ten months older I won't give in Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it”
- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))
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