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tayytayy12 · 3 days

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National Anthem | Reader x LS2

Summary | American boy falls head over heels for his English girl

Warnings | None, just fluff

FaceClaim | Beabadobee

Type | SMAU

Yourusername

Liked by | LoganSargeant, Lilymhe, LilyZneimer, Laufey, and 100,280 others

Tagged | @/LoganSargeant, @/Laufey

Yourusername - Some of us (Logan), go to places like Monaco on private planes, and others (Me and Laufey) hop onto a double decker bus and go where the driver takes us, miss you American boy rah 🤍🤍🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅

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User1 - I want to be in Y/n’s and Laufey’s duo

User2 - Its a need

Yourusername - *trio* @/Junialin has a cold 🥲

User3 - Thanks Y/n for feeding us with Logan pictures

User4 - She and Logan are literally everything to me 😭

Laufey - She bought Twinkie’s cause she’s never ever seen them before, then remembered her boyfriends American and got sad because she couldn’t be the first to discover American things anymore

Yourusername - Don’t be a hater ❌❌❌

User5 - She’s so British

LoganSargeant - Miss you too, Boris 🤍🤍

Yourusername - DID YOU JUST CALL ME BORIS JOHNSON?

Lilymhe - COME TO THE PADDOCK NOW 👹👹👹

Yourusername - Tell that to my uni teacher bby 🥲

User6 - I need more of her paddock fits, her silverstone 23 ate so hard

User7 - She’s been to one race in over a whole season, she needs to show up for him more smh

LoganSargeant

Liked by - Yourusername, JuniaLin and 132,862 others

Tagged | @/yourusername

LoganSargeant - A few photos that have been sent to me by my English girl in the past couple days, I’m having serious withdrawals right now.

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Yourusername - Me too baby 🥲

LoganSargeant - ITS BEEN TWO MONTHS

Yourusername - IK 😩

User8 - WHO HAS WHO SAVED AS ‘my lover ♡’ ?!????!???!!???

Yourusername - Lo to me, he’s my American boy 🤞😙

User9 - SHE GOT A CAT TATOO LMAO

User10 - This man is saying he’s having withdrawals from not seeing his girl and mine can’t even text me back

User11 - So real

User12 - We all need a Logan Sargeant

Laufey - She cried to a picture of you on her bed side table last night 💕💕

Yourusername - I hate you

User13 - She’s so unsupportive of him, Oml

User14 - Girl what

User15 - I see their point, he’s always with her on his brakes but she can nerve show up to a GP for him

User16 - She’s defo a gold digger

User17 - She’s a full time journalism student at CAMBRIDGE, she has more important things to do

User18 - And she’s been with him since she was sixteen and he was seventeen and they met when her brother was racing with him, she is anything but a gold digger

User19 - ANDDD, she’s said so many times that she’d rather be at Logan’s races supporting him then being anywhere else, their probably the most unproblematic loving couple in the whole sport world

LoganSargeant added to their story!

Replies -

User20 - HES GOING TO SEE Y/N AHHH

Yourusername - Oh my fucking god what

LoganSargeant - Surprise pretty girl 🤍

Yourusername

Liked by - LoganSargeant, GracieAbrams and 762,910 others

Tagged | @/LoganSargeant

Yourusername - I’m liking this American boy 💕 the best surprise ever I love you my Eagle Grah wtf is a kilometre USA pretty boy, it was the worst months of my life without you, the US to my UK, forever the ant to my dec

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User21 - STOP I LOVE THEM

User22 - The forehead kiss 🥲

User23 - “MY PRONOUNS ARE USA🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🏈🇺🇸” meets “WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS🇬🇧🇬🇧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿⛪️⛪️🏰🏰”

Comments liked by author and LoganSargeant

LoganSargeant - My favourite girl forever 🤍

Yourusername - I loooooveeee youuuuu 🤍🤍

User24 - My favourite couple ever

User25 - I need this kind of love

User26 - We all do

LoganSargeant - My Royal Monarch 🤍

Yourusername - My national anthem 🤍

——

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rebelliousstories · 3 days

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Vaultie

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Angst, Strong Language, Fluff, Allusions to Cannibalism

Word Count: 2,119

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: If Cooper Howard had a nickel for every time he came across an escaped vault dweller looking to find her father and to change the world…

The sight of the blue Vault-Tec wandering through the Wasteland made The Ghoul let out a low growl. How many of these people were going to be popping up? He watched her wander around, trying to talk to some people, but they had just turned her away at the first sight of blue. She was not much different than the other Vaultie he had come across. Same kind of naive look in her eyes, along with hope. Hope was a commodity up here. Just as he was finishing up his last drink at the one bar within a hundred miles that would actually take his caps, this vault dweller strolled right on up to him.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you were interested in a trade.” She pitched, shoulders back and a determined look on her face.

“Sorry darlin’, not interested in a whore tonight.” Howard spoke with a low drawl. He got great joy of seeing the appalled look on the vault girl’s face.

“Oh, I’m not a- that’s, that’s not what I was offering. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to this location. I have caps.” Pulling a piece of paper from her suit, she procured a pencil as well from a separate pouch. She put those items in one hand, and she wrestled with a bag on her hip that Cooper could hear the clanking of bottle caps coming from. The paper and pencil were set down in front of the ghoul, and she got her caps ready to give away. He grabbed the paper from the table and eyed her wearily as he read the address.

“Now what’s a vault dweller like you,” he gestured to her, “doing in a place like this,” motioning to their surroundings, “and looking for a place like this?” He finished by holding up the paper.

“I’m looking into Vault-Tec. The experiment they were running in my vault, it was barbaric to say the least. And when I found out things that I should not have, I escaped to here. The people down there, they don’t know any different than their life that has been played with and manipulated.” She explained, sitting down in the chair across from The Ghoul.

“Well, that is some might fine ideas. Afraid it won’t get you nowhere up here. Every few years, someone has a great idea to save the world. But it’s just a load of horseshit.” Cooper went on, fiddling with the paper in his hands.

“Look, I don’t particularly care about that. I’m on my own mission, and I need help to navigate this place. Now, what do you say? Fifty caps for directions on how to get there?” This Vaultie was testing his patience, but fifty caps is fifty caps. Without a word, Cooper wrote down on the piece of paper all the directions she would need. After that it was up to her to interpret and follow them.

“The caps?” He held out his hand while holding back the paper. Once the bottle caps were placed n his grasp, he counted them quickly, before handing over the paper and pencil to the Vaultie. But when she leaned in close, that is when he saw it. Words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.

“I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.” Cooper prompted, tugging back the paper at the last second before she could grasp it.

“I didn’t throw it. May I please have my paper and pencil back?” She tried one more time to swipe them, but Cooper was faster than she was.

“Be warned now. You go lookin’ into Vault-Tec, you probably not gonna like what you find. It’s a whole mess of an operation.” He stated, low and slow. There was something about this girl in front of him that he just could not put his finger on.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m going to find out what they’re doing, and expose them.” Finally, she was able to get her hands on the paper and pencil in his other hand. She stood from the table, and turned to to leave when something that Cooper said caught her attention.

“You never know who is gonna be the one behind the shitstorm. Could be someone close to you. I don’t think your mind can handle the truth once you find it out, Vaultie.” Her face was thick with confusion, and then it was full of fury.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think I can and can’t handle. And I don’t know what kind of grudge you hold against us, but I couldn’t really care less. Besides, you took my caps so surely you can’t hate me that much.” And with that, she made her way out of the bar, and into the sweltering day ahead.

Cooper sat in that bar for a good long while nursing his final drink. This vault dweller was certainly different than the previous one. She could hold her own but to what end? Surely, she was not going to last long in the Wasteland. Downing the rest of the liquor, he threw some caps on to the table, pocketed the rest and set out. It was not hard for him to find her; the tracks in the sand making it easy. But he kept a distance from her, and made sure she never knew he was there.

As they traveled, Cooper saw less and less of a vault dweller, and more of a surface dweller in her. The way she negotiated, carried herself, and overall acted; you would never be able to tell she came from a vault had it not been for that blue jumpsuit. He never intervened, always waiting on the sidelines. But he did keep an eye on this determined vault dweller. The scariest part of her journey was when they came across fiends.

“Hello, little lady. What are you doin’ out here?” A man leered at her, crowding her against the side of the building that Cooper had hid behind. He watched intently, waiting to see if he would need to intervene.

“I’m just passing through. Excuse me.” She tried to move past the man, but he shoved her back. Another fiend came around to crowd her in, and another, and another, and another. She was outnumbered five to one, and was looking around in a desperate attempt to find an opening. Cooper moved his duster back and had his hand on his pistol, ready to dispatch of these men. However, that thought made him pause. What was he doing following this girl on her journey? Maybe that other vault dweller was making him soft. No, it could not be.

“Oh, she’s got manners. That’s a real sweet thing to come out of your mouth. Hopefully the rest of you is that sweet.” The leader made a move to grab her, and Cooper was ready to draw his pistol when a shot rang out.

The lead fiend dropped to the ground dead. Her gun was still smoking, and she wasted no time in shooting the four other men who tried to touch her again. By the end, she was splattered with blood and breathing heavily. She began to loot through their bodies while Cooper moved further back in the shadows. He tried to make no noise, but a rock slipped from under his feet and made the Vaultie’s head whip around to where he was standing. There was a beat of silence, but she turned back to her task at hand when she did not hear anything else.

From then on, Cooper had no reason not to trust that she could handle herself. It had been so long that he had cared for anyone other than himself. The feeling was so foreign now, but it crept in without his say so. The unknowing duo walked for days and days, until finally their destination came into view. The broken, and abandoned building stood tall even with all thee destruction around it. She made her way in, but Cooper remained outside. The Ghoul found the shadiest spot alongside the building, and stopped for a rest and water.

The vault dweller began to look around the decrepit building, finding the floor where Vault-Tec records were held, and began to climb the stairs. There was nothing stopping her now; she could see the finish line. Once she was inside the Vault-Tec office, she Egan rifling through the files on the desks. What she found, astounded her.

Hundreds of vaults, and their subsequent experiments. The depth of human depravity never ceased to amaze her. While the description of her vault made her angry, the others made her blood boil. Human lives treated like lab rats in a sick and twisted experiment for society’s so called betterment. Stowing the files in her bag, she began to look around for information from before the vaults. Files detailing how they would get people down into those vaults that they created were littered about. But the more she read, the more the was enraged. However, there was one file that caught her attention.

Pages that described the bombings in great detail, dated hundreds of years ago. And she read through everyone. She was losing daylight, but she needed to read through everything. Her eyes scanned hundreds of words, and was trying to process everything when she finally go to the page that was used as the sign off sheets for the bombings. When she read the names of those who signed off, her heart dropped. The file slipped out of her hand, and there was no feeling left in her body.

Her father signed off on these bombs.

It took a while for the feeling to return to her limbs. When it finally all hit her, a scream tore through her vocal chords before she could stop it. All the pent up emotions and memories that now felt scarred; it was all coming out now. She calmed herself down, and snatched the file from the ground. As much as she hated it, she knew it was going to be important. There was no way around it if she wanted to help the people in the vaults.

Making her way back outside the building, the sunset ahead was painting the sky in a brilliant red with streaks of purple and orange. She went to turn the side of the building and was met with The Ghoul that had first helped her with the directions that led her here. He was leaning against the building, but was quick to stand up straight when he heard her round the corner. His undead heart broke just a little bit when he saw the broke look on her face. It was so different to the determined face that she held, even in the times that she should have been scared out of her wits.

“You alright there, Vaultie?” His tone was laced with concern that was not normal anymore. Cooper stepped closer, opened his arms, and brought her in close. She tried to fight, but her arms felt weak even to her as she tried to hit the ghoul before her. Her punches did not even make a dent in the man, but he let her get all of her frustration out before he knew the inevitable drop. And drop she did. Once her energy and anger were exhausted, her legs gave way and she collapsed in Cooper.

“Calm down there, darlin’. You’re alright now. The pain’ll go away soon.” He comforted the girl in his arms.

“Did you know?” She whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Yes.” He replied.

“I know it stings, darlin’. I warned you not to go lookin’. Knew you wouldn’t like what you found.” Howard continued, now stroking his gloved hand over her hair.

“But I needed to. I need to know what is going on. It’s so sheltered down there, and people are so naive. They deserve to know,” came her soft cry. It broke his heart even further apart.

“You’re doin’ a very selfless thing here. You’re gonna be alright though. Already survived bein’ up here for this long. You’ll make it up here Vaultie.” It was comforting to hear such kind words after being on the surface and away from home for so long.

All the girl did was nod into The Ghoul’s chest. She was going to be fine, and she was going to help the people in the vaults. Her mind was alright made up; she was no longer going to be a vault dweller and apart of their twisted system. She was now a surface dweller, and really needed to get rid of her jumpsuit.

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout imagine #fallout

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tiyoin · 3 days

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pt.4 | 📍pt.5

rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶

numb.

you tried to feel numb.

doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.

look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.

don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.

don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.

don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.

don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.

gross for what exactly? everything.

don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.

don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.

don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.

don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.

don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.

all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.

you were okay. to your knowledge that is.

on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.

you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.

underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.

something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.

though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.

did you ever have happy memories?

there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.

but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.

yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind.

sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for.

"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening.

looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.

you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.

"I look like a demon"

...

"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"

there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh.

A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.

gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.

you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.

this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?

all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.

flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.

you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.

if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.

directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.

oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.

peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.

"shit"

making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?

breathe.

but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-

we're not late yet it's only-

but when we get to class we'll be late!

perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.

no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.

the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.

don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.

but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.

head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.

but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.

writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.

you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-

"y/n!'

"oow"

sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-

pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.

"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.

"y-you did?" you gulped.

silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.

"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.

was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?

but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.

"I'm real-"

"There's no-"

you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.

"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"

even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.

"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-

you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.

you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you.

sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.

a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad.

did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.

the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.

did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?

did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-

"y/n"

snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.

"you okay there?"

slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.

"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"

nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.

until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"

"The Industrial Revolution"

"... pardon?"

anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after.

"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.

silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.

the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"

your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.

silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"

dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.

oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?

"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."

quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.

with nuclear missiles.

and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.

the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!

your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.

your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.

"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."

"boisterous?" silver quipped.

you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"

you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)

and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it.

meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.

"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.

but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'

and silver seemed... nice.

silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"

"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.

you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response.

although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience.

before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.

silver seems nice...

a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.

the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.

you wished to get closer to him.

taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers

#twisted anxiety 🌀#I was low-key ashamed with the last chapter ngl despite all your comments. I hope this makes up for it 🫶#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin 🔎#azul x reader #silver x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #vil x reader #leona x reader

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monamipencil · 1 day

Text

asking svt if you can tie a bow on ‘it’ | 96 line

genre; nsfw, cockette, mdni <3 | a/n; need wonwoo to head lock me. i love woozi and anyone who doesn't is weird. lola in her woozidan era <33 | check out 95z, 97z!

— jun

congrats, you've managed to weird out the jun. he's weirded out by the idea, per se. not you though, he just finds you adorably weird. but he's down to the idea, infact he's more excited than you (it grew on him). bugging you about what kind of ribbon you're going, what colour, silk or satin, etc etc. you know that he's just curious but he keeps interrupting the mood, forcing you to do what you do. tying him up and gagging him. with the same ribbons that sat on his cock, prettily now. and he's fucking enjoying it. he's strong enough to tear apart the material, binding his hands to the bed post but he doesn't. instead, he whimpers and tremble as you use a vibrator on his tip :)

— soonyoung

so down for the idea. took some time processing when you asked him though. he even shaves completely cause you said you wanted pics as well. and he's trying so hard not to cum right away. your soft touches, and the feeling of the soft ribbon tied around his cock is way too much for his sensory system. but he accidentally worries you because he looks like he's being held hostage as you're taking the pics. he tries to relax, but the moment he does, you wrap your lips around his tip, clicking another pic. then, he breaks. cumming right on your face. hurriedly apologizes and dies a bit on the inside, but makes up for it by blowing your back out <3

— wonwoo

tries so hard to suppress his smile when you ask him. so damn proud of himself (and his buddy, down there). but he wants to tie ribbons on you as well, to which you agree. you drool at the sight of his pretty pink tip fading into the pale pink of the ribbon (you couldn't resist and tied one around his biceps as well). he rubs the tip on your lower lip, the salty precum coating your lips. but before things could go further, he makes you lay down on the bed. you watch as he ties the ribbon on your thighs and one surrounding both your breasts as well. he takes pics of you two. one with you on his lap, one with him teething the ribbon on your breasts and thighs, one with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip, one with his head between your thighs, and one with him head locking you (specifically under your request). saving them on a separate folder on his phone.

— woozi

he already agreed to you tying a bow on his biceps and his hair. he didn't mind it and found it low-key cute. but now you wanna tie one on his cock? stares at you for solid 5 seconds before breaking out into a blush. he gets so red, thinking about it. he's not excited about the idea. it's just, do you love him that much to want to tie a bow on his cock? (or are you just perverted? both.) agrees eventually, if you're happy, he's happy too. and you almost become obsessed with how the pretty red (“shit, this is red too”) bow looks on his hard, prettier cock. it takes everything in you to not just take him in your mouth and give him the best head possible. which you did actually. and you know this won't be the last time you tie a bow on his cock.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

#jun smut #hoshi smut #wonwoo smut #woozi smut #jihoon smut #soonyoung smut #svt smut #svt drabbles

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half-bakedboy · 3 days

Text

one hell of a story

For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen

Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.

read on ao3 or under the cut

“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”

----

Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that.

“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks.

“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!”

“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later.

“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession.

“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays.

Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?”

“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares.

Then he focuses on saving their lives.

The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction.

He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough.

All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark.

“Tommy? Can you hear me?”

“I think he’s coming to!”

“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!”

When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming.

“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—

Taylor.

He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face.

“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man.

He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”

“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”

“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face.

As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger.

Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…

“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?”

Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages.

“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes.

“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear.

Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.

“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.

The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself.

“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?”

Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?”

There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!”

All of which are ignored by both of them.

Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing.

“I think I just might,” Evan agrees.

“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”

“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…”

“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?”

“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.”

“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully.

“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan?

“118.”

With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster.

“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.

“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue.

And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect.

(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”)

#bucktommy #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #bucktommyweekend #buck x tommy #tevan #i hate tagging that pls stop making me #911 #911 fic #bucktommy fic #my writing

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mammonsrockstargf · 24 hours

Note

Your most recent Luci fic—the one w the priest—is really good!

Not sure if you take requests rn, but I would love it if you could write something similar. For example, a fic about Luci with an ex-Catholic lover? Or maybe a lover who used to be a nun?

(I’m ex-Catholic, now agnostic-leaning-towards-atheist & when I was Catholic, I was in postulancy—training to be a nun—but…things happened lol)

hi, anon, thank you! <3 i'm glad you liked it. and wow, that sounds like quite the religious journey! i hope that you find something that makes sense for you. <3 i'm both baptized and confirmed in the protestant church but i'm an atheist now. (obv not the same at all, but i somewhat getchu >:D)

here goes! i hope you like it. <33

warning: very heavy religious themes!

When you're first teleported to the Devildom, your reaction is to say a prayer. It falls off your lips so easily. Call it old habits, call it shock. You're even surprised by it yourself, staring wide-eyed at Diavolo as the prayer slips your lips.

“Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil.”

Everyone is shocked. The prayer in itself doesn't really have that much of an effect, your dear god cannot save you here (not that you expected him to), but a deep shiver runs down Lucifer's back. It's safe to say he hasn't heard that prayer in a while.

As if isn’t enough that you just prayed for protection against the devil, the prayer that mindlessly slipped out of you is the prayer to the archangel Michael. It strikes a deep cord within Lucifer. He doesn’t blame you, per se, he’s just very very shocked.

He takes it like a challenge, even if he isn’t aware of it. He’ll question your faith constantly. You aren’t really interested in getting into your religious beliefs with this stranger, not to mention demon, who practically kidnapped you. So you just kind of ignore his questions or avoid them.

“Were you born into religion or did you find it later in life?”

“What?” You look at Lucifer tiredly, trying to bottle your annoyance. That’s the fifth question he’s asked today, despite you expertly avoiding his last four.

You’re in his office, seated at a chair in front of his desk. He pulled you in, saying you couldn’t leave until you did the homework you’d been skillfully neglecting. Lovely education reform.

“Were you born into religion or did-“ Lucifer begins to repeat. He seems rather immune to your annoyance, seemingly thinking his pursuit of your personal information is justified. You’ve come to find that Lucifer generally thinks that anything he does is completely justified.

“I heard you.” you interrupt and send him a tight-lipped smile. “I just didn’t want to answer you.” you follow up. Lucifer tilts his head to the side, red eyes piercing through you.

“Why not?” he asks. You sigh. Does this man never run out of questions? “You’re never going to get my approval if you don’t let me get to know you.” he lazily states, flipping some of the worksheets on his desk.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You really don’t wanna get into it but you do need his approval if you want to help the brothers and Belphegor…

“I was born into it. My parents are very religious,” you state while staring at your homework, not daring to make eye contact. It feels as though his eyes are burning holes into you. A small hum leaves Lucifer. “Very interesting, indeed,” he says, voice sounding almost melodic. When you finally look up at him, he’s grinning, while twirling his pen with his fingers. He thinks he’s won this round. Stupid prick.

Months later, when you’re lying in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, you finally breach the subject. “I was in postulancy for a while,” you say, completely out of the blue. You’re laying on his chest with his arm around your waist, the other caressing your hair.

You feel his body tensing underneath you for a few seconds before he softens again. You look up at him but he’s staring at the ceiling. “I practically grew up in the church. Mass every Sunday, youth choir every Tuesday, summer camp once a year…”

You lay your head on his chest again, looking at the wall. Lucifer doesn’t say anything, but his fingers move from your hair to rub soothing patterns into your back, encouraging you to continue. “It seemed the natural next step for me to become a nun. My entire community was the church. My parents were so proud as well. Their status in the church meant everything to them.”

A lump grows in your throat. “Sorry, I haven’t talked about this in so long, I’m rambling-“ you whisper. Lucifer's hand moves from your back to your chin, turning your head towards him. “Don’t apologize, little lamb. I am very proud of you for opening up to me,” he says and your breath slightly hitches. He smiles fondly at you and strokes your cheek. His smile then fades slowly. “It occurs to me that I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry that I was so insensitive when we met.”

You huff. “You were a dick,” Lucifer glares at you and pinches your cheek. “Now, now. I’ve admitted my faults, let’s not delve into it,” he says and you wince, gripping his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, old man, I’ll consider if you deserve my forgiveness,” you say and settle your head on his chest again. A small chuckle vibrates through Lucifer before a comfortable silence falls over you.

“What made you change your mind? Why aren’t you a nun, my little lamb?” he asks after a while. You think for a while, looking at your intertwined hands. His thumb presses small circles into the back of your hand.

“It just didn’t feel right, I guess,” you mumble. Lucifer nods. “Well, I, for one, am glad you didn’t go through with it. It would all be terribly complicated if you were already in a relationship with my Father.”

You let out a surprised laughter and push yourself up so your face is directly over his. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs tracing patterns into your bare skin, where your shirt has ridden up. “What a weird thing to say,” you giggle and Lucifer's brows furrow. “Well, it’s true-“ he begins, but your lips press to his before he can continue his weird family rambles. It’s a chaste kiss and you quickly press another to the corner of his lips and then one to his cheek and jaw.

After that, Lucifer is very gentle with you on the subject. He never prods or questions and only talks about it if you start the conversation. He'll even subtly change the topic if someone else brings it up. It's like a little secret between the two of you when he sends you confidential glances, making your heart flutter.

You're in a beautiful meadow. The sky is purple and you're wearing a heavy rosary with white beads around your neck. A pack of doves fly above you, circling like vultures. They begin diving for you, pecking you with their beaks, pulling at your skin and hair. You try to shield yourself with your arms, but it's useless against the many doves, plunging down. Their shrieks fill your ears and you cover your ears, but it's useless, the sound ringing in your head. You try to run, but the rosary has grown in size, pulling you down towards the ground.

You wake with a fright, covered in sweat. Your breathing is heavy as you gasp for air. You put your face in your hands and run them through your hair. Your heart is beating harshly against your ribcage. Lucifer. You need to go to Lucifer.

You stagger towards his room, weakly knocking on his door. "Come in," he sounds from the other side. You brace yourself against the door. "Lucy," you weakly say and the door immediately opens causing you to practically fall into him.

In a flash, you're in his lap on his couch. He worriedly grabs your face and examines you. "What's wrong, my love?" he asks and you wrap your arms around him, sinking your face into the crook of his neck. "Nightmare," you mumble. You feel Lucifer physically relaxing underneath you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. You feel your heartbeat slowing, as you're finally able to relax again.

"Wanna tell me about it?" he asks and you explain your dream, voice muffled against his skin. His hand finds your collarbone and he pushes you, just far enough so he can press his forehead against your own. You pout and furrow your brows. "It was so real, I swear I can still feel their beaks on my skin."

"Where do you feel it?" Lucifer asks and you shrug. "Everywhere..." His gaze is soft as he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips. "You feel them here?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His lips trail up your arm. "Here?" he asks, eyes still on you. You nod and he presses a kiss to your arm. "Your shoulder as well?"

"Yes," Another kiss is pressed into your shoulder, then your collar bone, your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, your nose. You let out a giggle and he presses a last kiss to your forehead. "Did I miss anywhere?" he asks and you nod. His eyebrows raise. "Really? Where?" he ponders and you bring his thumb to your lips. "Here," you say and this time you're the one pressing a small kiss to his fingertip.

"Oh," Lucifers says, eyes following your every move. He takes a sharp breath and pulls on your bottom lip. "We can't have that, now can we?" he says and you shake your head. He leans and kisses you and you kiss him back slowly.

"Thank you, Lucy,"

"I'll always be here, my love,"

a/n: aaa thank you for reading, guys, i hope you liked this one!! you can find my other stuff here. <333

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ivantillz · 2 days

Note

can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels

Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?

"Can you please stop pacing?"

He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.

"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."

Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."

Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.

Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.

It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.

Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.

"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."

She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."

Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.

"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.

"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.

Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.

He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.

"You don't have to leave," he said instead.

She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."

He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.

Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.

Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.

"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"

Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."

He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.

"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.

Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.

"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.

She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.

The silence was almost suffocating.

"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.

Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"

Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.

"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."

It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.

"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."

He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."

And that was the crux of it, huh?

Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.

"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.

Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."

"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"

Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."

He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.

But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.

"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."

All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.

Time wasted. He had never even considered...

"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."

Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"

Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."

"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."

Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."

He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."

"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.

Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.

"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."

Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.

"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."

Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.

"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."

Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."

Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.

"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."

Ivan lifted his head.

"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.

Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #mywriting #hope u enjoy anon!#ivantill requests/prompts are open to all btw #they rly help motivate me soooo

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almonds-nsfw-world · 16 hours

Text

Idrila blesses me in your warmth - Argenti

.ೃ࿐𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : ̗̀➛

-‘๑’- summary -- Argenti checking in on you since you've grown more distant despite aiding him in spreading the word of Beauty (perhaps against your will but who would deny such a kind heart?), but you couldn't help but feel your feelings grow for him by the day.

-‘๑’- pairing -- Argenti x gn! reader

-‘๑’- status -- friendship, he made you a co-worker as well after he saved you, hidden feelings

-‘๑’- situation -- SFW, comfort, Argenti being Argenti, helping Argenti spread the word of Idrila (if it means you're under his protection of course).

You don't even know how you found yourself upon his journey across the stars, spreading beauty and worship in awake.

Well, you do, but that's only because the brave knight in dashing armour and red, luscious hair saved you from a catastrophe with the legion. But alas, he swooped in by some divine timing and blessed you with his utter devotion to this Idrila Aeon - who may or may no longer exist.

Though, you wouldn't dare tell him that.

You sighed at the memory, knowing how you promised to aid him in spreading the word of his grand Aeon. You don't even know if letting him believe you're honourable to the duty he had bestowed upon you is cruel.

But damn stars in hell, he was far too kind and generous for his own good, it made him incredibly...naïve? Gullible? It made you feel bad in all honesty. He's a gentle soul in other words.

He took his kindness seriously.

Extremely seriously.

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning over the words of a novel you tried to focus upon, finding yourself thinking of the knight with hair as red as a rose and eyes like glimmering emeralds. It was unfair how one could truly be so beautiful.

You grimaced, cursing yourself to become so distracted again that you didn't even hear the soft clank and clatter of armour approaching you from behind the comfy chair. Everything within the 'One-and-Only' was comfortable and dashing.

Your fingers fidgeted upon the corner of the page.

"What troubles you, my friend?", red and silver dashed in gold came from the corner of your eye, alerting you of the Knight of Beauty's presence. That silken voice of his could only melt the frown upon your features.

You glanced up at him, watching as he bowed in greeting, a smile upon his face. You cleared your throat, trying to bite back the blush threatening to spill across your cheeks, "Nothing, I mean, I was just...reading?" You struggled to avoid those sweet, kind eyes of his, biting your lip before shaking your head, "is there something you'd want to talk about, Argenti?"

A soft chuckle escaped those lips of his, causing his eyes to close and to reveal those thick lashes of his as he straightened himself, "My friend, do I need a reason to speak to someone I hold dear to my heart? A friend whom has travelled with me across the stars in hopes to spread the word of Beauty?"

You cheeks could only flush.

"No", you stammered out, bringing your knees to your chest and closing the book, shaking your head as you gave him a small smile, "feeling lonely in the cockpit?" A soft laugh vibrated from his chest, making his eyes twinkle and the corners of his lips to upturn, "Silence allows one to admire the beauty around them and to see things one would not notice amidst sound. Though, lately, you've grown quieter, I just merely wished to see how you are fairing, my friend."

He lowered his head in sincerity, placing his hand upon his chest in emphasis to the genuine words that flowed from those lips of his.

Your smile slightly faltered, "I'm sorry, Argenti, a lot has been in my mind lately. I didn't mean to seem so... distracted." You sighed, straightening out your legs and placing the novel down upon the side table, only to see a rose placed before your face - the suddenness of it caused your eyes to widen and for its delicate smell to fill your nose.

"Perhaps this small gift shall make your smile brighten once more like the stars that adorn the night sky. This rose a symbol of innocence and beauty that adorns you and all that dwells around you." He gently slipped it behind your ear - this time noticing the smooth stem instead of the thorns that usually adorned it.

He must've trimmed it so it could perch itself behind your ear without causing you pain or discomfort. Your eyes could only glance up into his own in disbelief and a flicker of...vulnerability? "You didn't have to, Argenti...", you softly spoke, tearing your eyes away from his own as your fingers brushed along the smooth petals, "but thank you."

Your stomach tightened and your cheeks reddened before you slowly leaned forward, kissing his cheek gently - only to lean back against the chair once more and bring your knees to your chest before grabbing onto the book once more.

His eyes had widened at the gesture until they softened, his smile widening in its kindness and warmth, "do not thank me, it is only my pleasure. You have helped me in ways I could never do myself, so for that, it should be I that is thanking you." He gently took your hand away from the book, sliding his fingers upon your palm before bending down once more and placing his lips against your skin.

His eyes fluttered closed while the warmth spread through your system, leaving you breathless and your heart to stammer.

"I should return back to the front, but do not be afraid of seeking me if you wish to converse. There is beauty in sound as well if you listen closely", he softly whispered, straightening himself up as you feel his fingertips linger upon your own before he withdrew them. His smile was soft and kind, like always, "Idrila blesses me in your warmth and comfort."

As he walked back towards the door, you couldn't help but close eyes and smile. His fragrant, flowery smell filling your nose while the softness of the petals of the rose he had gifted you felt warm beneath your touch - you knew this came from his heart.

All the more reason to treasure his kindness and honour in every way you can - even if it means putting up your jealousy for an Aeon who may be dead.

A soft chuckle spilled from your lips at that thought.

#𖤓 artwork: artist unknown

# ‧͙⁺-ˋˏalmond writesˎˊ˚⁺‧͙#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai: star rail #honkai #x reader #hsr x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x y/n #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader #argenti #argenti x you #hsr argenti #honkai star rail x reader #honkai imagines #star rail

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zexapher · 1 day

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Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

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helvegen-s · 22 hours

Text

Rage, rage | four

prologue | one | two | three | four

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)

Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...

It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.

She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.

Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.

She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.

She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.

His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.

"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."

Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."

Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.

So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.

But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.

"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."

Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"

And then silence fell.

Why had she helped them?

She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.

Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.

"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."

My father.

When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?

Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.

"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”

"Well, don't tell me."

Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?

Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.

But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?

And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"

There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.

"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."

"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.

"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."

"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."

Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.

"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."

Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.

With that mask she had learned to wear.

Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.

They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.

"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"

"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."

And they fell silent again.

The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.

She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.

"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."

"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."

"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"

“Elain and Nesta.”

"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."

Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.

"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."

And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.

Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.

He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.

"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."

Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.

"I didn't ask for this, princess."

Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.

"Great, neither did I."

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #cassian #rhysand

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riri-twix · 24 hours

Text

Can We Become We?

Chapter 3: So Much, Yet So Little

Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.

The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?

She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter

You can also read it on ao3 here

When everything was finally over, it was way past midnight. A majority of the guests had already filed out of the building, while the remaining few were gathered in small clusters, quietly chatting among themselves – the elders probably.

The whole wedding passed by in a whirlwind of activity, a blur of colour and sound that your mind couldn't quite grasp. The whole time, it was difficult to ignore the unfamiliar light weight around your ring finger.

All you could really focus on was maintaining that smile on your face, feeling the ache in your jaw from keeping it there for so long. It almost felt like your face was going to get stuck like that.

The night breeze was cool on your skin as you exited the wedding hall, grateful to breathe in some fresh air. You could finally drop the fake smile. Satoru and Suguru had moved to the side, each of them standing in front of their respective parents as goodbyes were being said.

Your father steps forward and takes your hand, looking you directly in the eye. “I know this wasn't what you wanted, but you need to be strong.” He says gently, his voice laced with a mix of concern.

You just nod, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s getting late, we’ll let you go.” Your mother smiles softly. "We’ll miss you so much. But please come visit us soon, alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” You try to keep your voice neutral, but you can't help but feel a little resentment towards your parents.

You knew that if you expressed your true feelings, it would only lead to more drama and stress, and you were tired of the fighting. Instead, you simply offer a tight-lipped smile and mutter a quick goodbye.

You turn around, without giving them a hug. Nothing felt real, as if it was all just some kind of dream.

A gleaming, white limousine was waiting for you, Satoru, and Suguru. The sleek car stood out against the darkness.

You’ve never been inside a limo before. You always thought that if you were going to get the chance one day, it would be so much fun, to feel like a literal celebrity. But all you felt like was a robot on autopilot.

The chauffeur, a stout, middle-aged man in a dark suit, opened the rear door for you. He offered you a polite smile and ushered you inside. The smell of freshly cleaned leather and pine air fresheners welcomed you into its embrace, as you sink back into the plush seat.

After you, Suguru enters the limo. You exchange a brief glance with him as he gets in, but neither of you says anything. Satoru follows suit, before the chauffeur closes the door. Soon, the car pulls away from the curb, silently and smoothly, like a ghost on wheels.

Between the three of you, no one speaks. And it stays like that for a while. You don’t really care though, not with the way your cheeks were hurting. Talking was the last thing on your mind right now.

You're tired, you're emotional, and above all, you're done. You’re so done with everything.

You lean your head against the window, letting out a deep, exasperated sigh as your muscles finally release the tension they've been carrying. The cool glass feels soothing against your skin. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing.

Tap tap

You frown, shrugging away the light poking on your shoulder.

Tap tap tap

“What?” You murmur groggily, not quite ready to open your eyes.

“Y/n?” That was Suguru, his voice soft but insistent. “We’re here.”

Your eyes flutter open into a squint, vision unfocused as you lift your head up from the glass. Wait what? Did you fall asleep?

“Oh.” You mumbled, trying to shake off the exhaustion that still clings to you. “I fell asleep.”

“It's okay.” Suguru says again, his tone comforting in its familiarity. For a brief second, you’re grateful that he’s being nice.

Satoru rolls down his window as a rather polite looking man with short, black hair and glasses walks up to the limo.

The man bows respectfully, arms by his sides, before straightening up again. “Sir.” He says his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Stop calling me that, Ijichi.” Satoru extends his hand out of the window, his face stoic and expressionless. “Just call me Satoru.”

Ijichi, who had been standing at attention, relaxes slightly at Satoru's words. The man produces a small set of keys from his pocket and places them in Satoru's waiting palm, before Satoru wraps his fingers around them.

Ijichi’s voice takes on a shy, almost meek tone. “You know I can't do that, sir.” He replied, a light blush growing more visible on his cheeks. “Just call me if you need anything, sir.” Satoru nods dismissively at that, and he stepped aside.

The driver takes off again, the car's wheels roll along the quiet residential road, until it eventually slows to a stop.

You blink and suddenly the fatigue of the night's events disappears. The house is not too big, no where near the grandiose of the Gojo estate, but it definitely wasn’t small either.

Satoru is quick to spring into action. Without wasting a second, he thrusts open the car door and leaps out, his movements swift and fluid. It’s fascinating, how a man with such long limbs has such precise mobility.

Suguru stays seated next to you, his eyes glued to the house in front of him. Was he overwhelmed by all of this? Should you comfort him?

Hesitating, you push the silent question away, and instead reach out to open the door. But before you can even touch the handle, the door is suddenly opened by the chauffeur.

A wave of irritation suddenly washes over you.

You suppress a frustrated huff and step down onto the pavement. You know he was just doing his job and all, but for some reason, you wanted to open the door by yourself. Annoyed, you pull at the hem of your dress with one hand to make sure it doesn't get dirty.

Satoru had already reached the wide front porch, slipping the key into the door’s lock. As you make your way to him, you notice the familiar silhouette of your car parked in the driveway of the house, beside one other. Someone must’ve dropped it off here.

Satoru had moved to the side, letting you and Suguru step through the threshold and onto the small foyer, before shutting the door. The automatic lock clicks, and the reality of everything hits you like a ton of bricks.

The atmosphere immediately shifts to something tense and awkward. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, not really sure of your place in this situation. What do you do know? Can you just walk in or…?

When Suguru decides to speak up, you felt like you could breathe again. “We need to sit down and discuss this.” His voice is calm and measured, as if he knows exactly what to do in a situation like this.

Satoru, on the other hand, looks like he’s had enough of the playing nice and pretending they’re all happy when they’re not. He shakes his head, a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on his face.

“Discuss what exactly?” Satoru says, his voice sharp.

“This.” Suguru’s eyes narrow. “All of this.” He gestured broadly at the room and everything it contains. “And us.”

His bun, which was normally full and round, was now sagging lower on his head, weighing down from the strain of the long day. And yet, even with his hair less than perfect, it didn’t make him look any less stunning.

Satoru's lip curls into a sneer. “There is no us.” He spits, cold and biting. “There is just you, and you, and me.” He pointed at Suguru, then you, then at himself. “I said to stay out of each other’s business.”

Suguru's hand runs down his face, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, calming breath. I know that, and I said I agree with it.” Don’t groan. “But it's not that simple.” He opens his eyes, looking directly at Satoru. "We have to sit down and list everything, talk and work something out."

Your eyes dart back and forth between them, lips sealed tight to avoid adding any more fuel to the fire.

Satoru doesn’t nothing for a moment, as if he was thinking. Then his whole demeanour changes. “You wanna sit down and talk?” He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fine then.”

He turns on his heel, walking down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoes through the empty house. You and Suguru have no choice but to follow.

You take your seats on the couches, facing each other, the air heavy with unease. Satoru crosses his arms, a sneer on his face as he nods with his chin. “Go on, curtain bangs.” He snarls, his tone thick with contempt. “Talk all you want.”

Suguru feels a pulse throb on the side of his temple. Satoru’s attitude was really starting to piss him off. But he breathes. Control yourself. “Okay, so first things first. Are we all getting our own private space?”

Satoru’s expression remains stoic and cold, but you can see a slight edge to his voice as he responds. “If this is about bedrooms, then yes.” Blunt and to the point. “There are plenty of rooms to go around. Pick whatever.”

As the words sink, something in your heart settles.

You’ve heard that, generally, most people have sex on their wedding night. And you can’t deny the fact that, while the thought had been looming in the back of your mind the whole day, you kept telling yourself that nothing would happen. Because in the end Satoru and Suguru were forced into this too.

You were more than reassured now.

“Okay.” Suguru nods. “Now, what about everything in the house.”

“What about it?” Satoru raises his perfect, white eyebrow at Suguru, and your heart skipped a beat.

“It is yours after all. We’re basically living here as guests, are we not?”

Okay, Suguru’s point makes sense. Satoru didn’t choose for you to live here with him, it was an obligation. It’s only fair if he sets the rules.

Satoru's response is as cold as ever. He shrugs, as if to say he doesn’t give a shit. “Just don’t come into my room.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “And keep your business in your own rooms.”

You look at him in confusion, trying to understand what he meant by that. “Business?” Your eyebrows furrow.

But he only scoffs. “What? You think I’m stupid or something?” He sneers at you both, every word coming out of his mouth was bitter. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna be screwing around.”

Well that felt like a personal slap to your face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scowled. Was he seriously accusing you of bringing random people to fuck with? As if it was that easy? You couldn’t even rizz yourself up in front of a mirror let alone a whole other person!

“Pretty sure it was self explanatory.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “But like I said, I don’t care. This,” He takes his ring off his finger. “Means nothing to me. Do whatever the fuck you want.” As if to drive the point home, he tosses it on the coffee table.

The room is silent for a moment before Suguru speaks up, his voice firm and steady. “Okay. Well, it’s settled then.” He picks up the ring and puts it back into Satoru's palm, curling his finger over it. “We’ll stay out of your room, and we should be fine.”

“Whatever.” Satoru stands up and walks away, leaving the two of you behind.

He didn’t want anything do with you, or anyone. Everyone was the same anyway. Just greedy slobs who only cared about what they could get from him. It wasn't just a feeling he came up with overnight, it was something he knew from experience, having been used and hurt in the past by people he had let close to him.

He’s let himself open his heart before. He let himself touch and be touched. Only for the person who ‘loved’ him only act that way for his father’s money. After they got what they wanted, they had spilled the news that they never actually loved him.

The very next day, he saw them share a post with their partner, showing off their newest car. The car he had bought as a gift.

It was just one person, he tried to tell himself. He needed to have hope.

He waited some time before opening up again. This time, the one who proclaimed love lasted longer than his previous one. He was staring to believe that their promise of forever might be real.

Until they asked for a huge amount of money for their project overseas. Satoru wouldn’t say no to someone he loves right? Except, they to left him right after their project succeeded.

Satoru realised that he would only be a fool to believe anyone ever again. No one was ever going to love him. Just his money and his father’s money. There was no point in anything. He couldn’t care less about you and Suguru.

But despite all this, there's a part of him that's still searching for connection and love. He's afraid of getting hurt again, but he's also lonely and longing for something real.

The soft pillow cradles your head as you stare up at the ceiling. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake. There was only the rise and fall of your chest. The bed you were on is so soft, so comfy. One would think you’d have blacked out the moment you touched it, considering how tired you were. But you couldn’t.

Your eyes were sore. You sigh and roll over, trying to force your eyes closed, but it's no use. Your mind wouldn’t switch off.

Suddenly you hear it. The soft, mournful notes of a violin fill the air, piercing through the silence of the night. (Violin playing)

At first, you're not sure if it's real or just a part of your sleep-deprived imagination. But as the music continues to play, the sound becomes more distinct, and you realise that it's coming from somewhere outside.

You make your way to the window, eyes straining in the dark as you search for the source. Then you see him. Satoru. He wasn’t asleep either? You slide the window open.

The night air was cool, but Satoru seemed to hardly notice the chill. He stood still on the back porch, with nothing but the moonlight illuminating his figure with a silver lining. The white hair on his head seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

He held his violin under his chin, the bow in his other hand, moving effortlessly across the strings as he played a melancholic melody. It was a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo through the night, filling the air with a sense of loneliness and longing.

He looks otherworldly.

Suddenly, weariness takes hold of you, wrapping a comforting blanket over your body. You feel your shoulders relax, your limbs growing heavy. You sink into the comfort of your bed once more. Your eyes drifted to a gentle close, listening as the sounds float in through your window.

Meanwhile, Suguru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all.

On one hand, the bed is incredibly soft, and he's grateful to have a place to rest. On the other hand, he feels like he doesn't deserve it. He's used to sleeping on much stiffer, less comfortable mattresses, and the idea of sleeping on anything this heavenly? It feels almost wrong.

He couldn't shake off the thought that he should sleep on the floor or something. He didn't deserve to be given this kind of thing, to be surrounded by all this. It was a feeling of guilt and inadequacy, that he wasn't good enough.

Slowly, Satoru's violin fills the house with a sweet, muffled song. Suguru sits on his bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. His eyes close, and his expression falls into one of complete relaxation.

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he hums along with the tune, lost in the rhythm. The sweet song washes away the thoughts plaguing his mind, helping him to find a sense of peace.

He was so tired. Maybe he could fall asleep after all.

chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)

taglist: @keira80808

#satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #getou suguru x you #geto suguru #suguru #satosugu #stsg #stsg x reader #satoru x suguru #polyamory #poly satosugu #ao3 fanfic #multple chapter series

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handsometheo · 3 days

Note

You've gotta hear me out on Ithaqua getting a little too possessive towards his survivor partner during a match ! Love your works btw <3

Mmmmmm Possessive Ithaqua 😍

Warnings: You'll never guess this one but Possessive behaviours

Pairing: Possessive! Ithaqua x Gn! Reader

--------

- He isn't sure what caused it. Maybe it's his own instincts telling him he needs to protect you, or maybe the manor is affecting him somehow..

- Your Team is quite possible the worst concotion of players to have paired with you. The Prospector, the cowboy and the "prisoner". He's semi-alright with Luca, he doesn't really do much harm. Its more a case of him being annoying to deal with on a good day.

- However Kevin and Norton strike Ithaqua the wrong way.

- He immediately finds Norton but instead turns his attention to finding you, just to make sure you stay away from them.

- He finds you. Quite easily actually. He comes across you helping Luca to decode who quickly runs off in favour of saving himself. Smart man, Ithaqua has to applaud him for using that mildly malfunctioning brain of his. He does have to break the connection, if only to delay your guaranteed escape.

- He lets you finish the cipher and simply stands around impatiently huffing and puffing to the side like a bratty child not getting enough attention. And that's accurate to a certain degree.

- once the cipher is done he tells you to go into a locker so he can pick you up and take you with him. You think nothing of it as this is fairly normal behaviour he likes to carry you around you've noticed. His little giggle when he picks you up just melted your heart.

- However. Unlike the usual routine, Ithaqua takes you to the nearest corner of the map and places you there before trapping you within his arms. His cloak making the two of you practically disappear, well.. you know as much as one can with the terror radius thing..

- His eyes are animalistic and his jaw clenched, but he makes no move to act on whatever violent act is forming in his head. Just pulls you to him as though he is trying to mesh with you.

- of course, he was mostly..., kind of, calm.

-Until the two idiots turned up. And by that I mean Norton and Kevin.

-Kevin lassoed you from Ithaqua's grasp, that alone made him screeched out in rage, but just to add some extra sourness to the situation, a magnet gets thrown towards him. Forcing him back into the wall.

- You struggle your way out of Kevins hold and push him away right as Ithaqua dashes at him. Norton quickly runs off to possibly hide in case he needs to really save, or possibly help Luca to continue saving.

- "IDIOTS, BOTH OF YOU!" You yell out to nobody in particular as Kevin had already run off. Ithaqua stays still for a moment, left eye twitching.

- He turns quickly. "Stay." He commands as though you are a dog awaiting your next trick. You're going to stay near, obviously, just maybe that Cipher off to the left will somehow get finished off...

- He dashes away in the direction Kevin left.

- As you're decoding, the prospector returns around the corner.

"Hey."

"Fuck off. That was stupid and you know it."

"Yeaaah.. but got the reaction I wanted. He's a tad bit, whats the word, protective? No. Possessive. Thats the one! Like he owns you."

"If he ever got asked if he owned me he definitely would answer like that.. It's a bit much at times, maybe next time to come running up to try and save when he's clearly not going to chair me. Luckily he seems to have lost Kevin."

The last Cipher gets completed by you and Norton but just before you can run to the exit, Norton says something that irks you.

"Geez, I didn't ask for your life story.. no need to keep going on..."

Yoou dont even initially intend to do it but you're hand reaches out to slam his head against the nearest wall to temporarily stun him.

"Not so fun now is it.."

In the distance a pissed off roar can be heard from Ithaqua, who you can assume just missed hitting the now escaped Kevin and Luca.

"Now, we're gonna surrender." You tell the prospector sternly

"Why would I do tha-"

You grab his ear and stare at him, "Consider it your apology to Itha. Believe me Kevin's going to deal with far worse."

Quiet grumbles are all that are heard from the disgruntled ex-miner.

----

Hope you enjoyed :) I partially forgot what I was writing halfway through but I loved writing this ♡

#x reader #fanfic #idv x reader #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #idv nightwatch #idv night watch x reader #idv nightwatch x reader #idv ithaqua x reader #ithaqua x reader #night watch x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

WIBTA if I reminded a friend he owes me money?

@aitathrowaway321 for finding later

I (20s, they/them) lent a friend Johnny (fake name. 20s, he/him) about $300 for rent about a year and a half ago. He was panicking because he'd bought a small tattoo that week, and had thought he'd budgeted for rent, but realized he forgot about another bill.

I'd once not had enough for rent and a friend who wasn't well off, without me asking, had offered to lend me the money for rent. It had been an incredibly kind act, and though I'd paid that friend back a few months later the first second I could, I've always remembered it. So I offered to do the same to Johnny (who knew this story) as a sort of pay-it-forward and that he could just pay me back when he was able, no rush at all. I also at the time had an okay job where I made enough to be able to do this, and Johnny's job was pretty awful.

Johnny was very thankful and agreed. At first, he'd bring up the debt a lot himself (I would never bring it up) and continually promise to pay it when he could, to which I'd be like - just as soon as you comfortably can, don't stress! And he mentioned it A LOT. Multiple times every single time I saw him at first. But eventually he stopped mentioning it entirely.

The two of us had this in-joke, and Johnny realized he could buy something related to the in-joke. He swore he'd buy it for me as a birthday gift (I didn't ask) and it would be so much fun, very soon after I lent him money. It would have been a nice gift, but it would've cost at least $200. In my head I decided that if he decided to get me the gift instead of paying me back I'd be happy either way, bc it's nice to be thought of. All I said aloud was that it would be a lot of fun, and it was a very kind thought from him. He would then regularly bring up buying me this gift for months. Then my birthday passed and I didn't get anything at all from him. Which was fine, I didn't ask for gifts! But then he stopped bringing up buying me anything OR paying back the money.

Now it's been almost a year and a half, and he seems to have entirely forgotten he ever owed me. I wouldn't mind so much - times are hard! - and it's not like I'm going to be angry if someone is spending money on nice dinners and pretty clothes instead of saving up for a no-deadline debt to a friend. People need to have nice things to get through life. But he keeps getting new tattoos and piercings (we go to the same parlor, I know they're pricey) and he recently planned and went on a big trip with a friend. It's not as if he hasn't had the ability to pay me back in the last few years. I also got laid off from my job, and $300 is a lot more to me than it used to be.

It's not so much that I want the money back as it is that I'm hurt he spent so much time talking big about paying me, and then when enough time had passed just dropped it entirely. I've had an issue in the past when after I got an okay job, suddenly people who had ghosted me were begging me for money (didn't know my salary but just assumed bc of the job title). And having been in awful situations, I tried to help where I could anyway, but then after getting the money they'd ghost me again. Johnny hasn't ghosted me, but he seems to have decided not to pay me back and pretend it never happened.

We have an event coming up where people will be paying for things and everyone else will be paying them back immediately - just bc it's easier to do things like buy tickets all at once and then pass them out, and easier for a restaurant to have one bill and then people venmo each other after. I was considering having Johnny pay and then tell him he can take it out of his debt to me.

I'm unsure if this is passive aggressive and rude, or if it's a good way to gently remind him he owes me without being a jerk about money - if he is still just struggling financially and hasn't forgotten, I don't want to rub anything in or make him stressed. I don't want money to ruin a friendship, but I'm feeling hurt.

#aita #am i the asshole

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pharawee · 2 days

Text

Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...

Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:

That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.

Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.

Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).

Way has returned as Way the White.

As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).

Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.

And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).

I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.

Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).

Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!

#pit babe 2 #pit babe the series #pit babe #jane watches stuff #will i ever write serious meta?#probably not #that's just the winner in me #never mind me i'm just so excited and i have so many thoughts #and i need a place to sort them

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wetcatspellcaster · 2 days

Text

Metapost: "The Ascendent"

**this is a meta for my fic, Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth, and NOT a discussion of the BG3 game canon in any way. If you try and make this into a disk-horse, I will BITE you**

(spoilers under the cut for Chapters 1-23 of Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth).

So... remember in the Chapter One endnote when I said I was a Spike/Buffy fan first, and a person second? x

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

In more seriousness, there was a number of fictional seasonings/ingredients that went into creating what I felt was the villain of a Gothic horror, and what I felt could turn the Ascendent into something that was both 'fixable', and something I enjoyed writing.

Those ingredients were:

Spike and the idea of 'soulless' vampires in the BtVS canon - do I like this conceit of BtVS worldbuilding and how it's used in the show? No. I think it often underlines how bad Whedon is at writing romance. BUT I do think it gives Buffy this free pass for which vampires she can/can't like or adopt, and I needed some of that for my protagonist. I need a 'I can fix him' moment - BtVS has those in fucking SPADES.

Howl's Moving Castle (this one was accidental, I'm still mad at myself but I can't deny it's there) - man conducts magic ritual for power, removing an essential part of himself in the process that needs to be returned

Picture of Dorian Gray (the idea of an exterior staying pristine while something hidden suffers and decays)

Curse of Strahd (the soulless in Barovia, which I mentioned in Chapter 23)

The idea of default moral alignments in D&D. I have a whole chapter arguing against this in my thesis (mostly bc it's often applied to entire races) but I was fascinated by creating a set of circumstances where I feel like a default moral alignment is valid, actually. 7,000 deaths seems like a good set up. I wanted to imagine a being that was trapped within a default moral alignment, and the laws of its very being prevent it from being good no matter what it tries, and it knows that (this kind of creates a feedback loop with the Spike/Buffy stuff)

The parts of the BG3 canon I took and REMADE (I'm stressing this throughout, I was making a horror story and a horror monster your honour):

Astarion conducts the Rite of Profane Ascension with scars on his back, but has to scar Cazador's back personally, suggesting that um... the Rite REALLY SHOULDN'T BE CONDUCTED BY SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THOSE SCARS. Cazador wasn't going to do it that way, is all I'm saying!!

The idea that Ascended!Ending Astarion is a concentrated version of certain traits that have persisted throughout his story - his flirtiness, his understanding of sex as a mechanism and expression of power, his use of a façade as a mask for trauma he refuses to acknowledge.

The lines alluding to dissociation in the brothel foursome, post-Ascension.

The idea that Astarion seduced Tav to survive or protect himself- in my case, because I made the Ascendent empty save for Astarion's survival instinct, the idea that he would gravitate towards Tav as one of his default modes to potentially survive made sense to me - this is why it becomes an obsession.

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

For me, when writing, the Ascendent is a few things:

An intensification of vampirism in a different, fucked-up direction. Yeah, A!Astarion, you can walk in sunlight and you can eat and drink and don't need blood. But you are still a hungering maw of emptiness that feels like it will never be whole or close and connected to the living - just now in a wildly different, metaphysical/existential direction! Welcome to depression, alienation, and otherness!

A soulless being, that knows it is soulless - that initially was very happy with its life but then as the years passed, increasingly spends its every waking moment knowing there is something innately wrong with it that it can't seem to shake, no matter how much it engages with life and all the pleasures of life. (see the 'every meal without savour' speech)

A magically literal metaphor for Astarion's dissociation in moments of extreme trauma, up to and including the fight with Cazador - essentially, the moments when there is nothing but a performance or an exterior, because the self/soul are suffering and they cant' come to phone right now

Astarion's survival instinct. As I say in Chapter 23 - Mephistopheles thinks it is an empty body, who's performance is trying to deny the reality of it's own existence. Rosalie, who has a bit more understanding of Astarion, sees that the performance is not just a coping mechanism but one of Astarion's main modes of survival. The Ascendent is Astarion's survival instinct/techniques for endurance, without any soul or person behind them to protect. This is how I tried to tie in the flirty, hypersexual persona and wrap it with a bow.

I wanted a monster that was undeniably scary, and monstrous to me (oh? you can't fit in or be happy no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, and you think there's something intrinsically off? how's that autism diagnosis going Emma) but that I also felt sympathy and true sorrow for. I needed to have motivations for him chasing after Tav that I could write meaningfully from and sympathise with.

Not only has Astarion used Tav as a life-raft once before, they've also proven to be the most secure thing he's ever clung to. Of course a rabid survival instinct Astarion would become obsessed, and see them as a potential solution to the problem (this was then intensified by Rosalie also being a walking, overbearing moral compass, and having bound him in a contract in the first week of living, accidentally - a lawful good immoveable objects meets a default moral alignment unstoppable force.)

...Because I also wanted that moral alignment spice!! Wizards of the Coast, default moral alignment is fucked up actually!!! Imagine something trying so desperately to be good - literally being bound in a pact and having been told to be good - but the laws of the universe and its very essence are like "nah mate, we kind of want to destroy and annihilate everything, we're neutral evil personified". That's scary!! that's fucked up!! that's what a birth from 7000 deaths gets you!!!

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

So, now for the actual timeline, for people who aren't interested in my silly musings but mostly just want answers lmfao.

Rosalie makes the decision not to intervene in Cazador's mansion, making it seem like she'll support whatever decision Astarion will make there.

Rite of Profane Ascension happens. Astarion conducts the ritual, rips his own soul from his body, the Ascendent is born with literally zero context. Mephistopheles is fucked in Cania, because a bunch of stuff has just gone wrong.

(oh, by the way, the Ascendent knows Infernal as a default language. Bc it's born from an Infernal rite.)

The Ascendent is now default neutral evil, and feeling some kind of way. Rosalie and him break up. He's supposed to have everything, but the one thing he thought was a done deal - his most stalwart suppporter - just rejected him.

Netherbrain defeat (the Ascendent is not invited. Imagine being an all-powerful, hypersexual survival instinct vampire, and your ex-girlfriend neither wants you for sex, nor your power.)

Rosalie accidentally binds the Ascendent (a soulless devil) in a pact demanding that he never kill anyone, when that's literally what the Ascendent's new existence/new default moral alignment is driving him to do. Then, she fucks off and goes into hiding.

Well. The Ascendent can just get another wizard, to help him learn all of Cazador's secrets to cope [Hemlock is recruited].

The years go by! The Ascendent is doing sooooo well. Everything is great, guys! I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I have lavish parties and lots of sex - why do I feel nothing? I'm a vampire perfected - I have no hunger for blood, I can walk in the sun, I can enjoy all the freedoms of a living, breathing man - why do I feel like I'm starving? Why does everything turn to ashes in my mouth? I have friends - oops, I've sabotaged all those friendships with my innate neutral evil destruction. Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I'm doing everything right? Why doesn't it feel that way?

Also, I can't kill anything to feel better about it, because my hidden ex-girlfriend bound me in a pact.

In this time, to reflect the gradual degradation of the Ascendent's happiness and it's increasing awareness that it is something Other and innately wrong, the reflection starts going weird. Starts going strange. Starts getting a bit fucked up. Almost as if, when he looks in the mirror and sees a person, *nothing* should be what's there. Imagine being a spawn who couldn't see your reflection, and then a vampire who could see it's reflection, but knows that they're innately empty. Knows there's nothing there. I'd freak out a little bit about it as well tbh, I'd go a bit tooth and claw and elongated jaw about it.

The Ascendent finally admits that's there must be something kinda fucked about it. Life just ain't working out, lads. He starts looking for any and all impossible cures that will help with the malaise in his soul (and that innate essence problem, caused by default moral alignment). These include: more bad decisions, such as a house in Cania bc the Ascendent is hoping he'll feel more at home with devils than he does with mortals. All it does is make him feel more isolated and alone.

But eventually, he settles on two things! - Wish (Hemlock's idea), and Rosalie (the Ascendent's idea). Clearly, we just need Rosalie back! Her leaving is actually what fucked him up in the first place - none of this existential bullshit! She fixed us one, she can fix us again.

But looking for Rosalie hasn't worked out. In order to get a shot at her, the Ascendent goes and bargains for his own soul from Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, adding a new sheet in excel titled 'what the fuck happens when i give this soulless monster a soul to play with?', agrees and starts tracking his new data.

Obviously, just putting the soul back in yourself will fix you. But the Ascendent, the nothingness living inside Astarion's body, will die. Taking the soul back would erase itself. The Ascendent - who is survival instinct personified - would never do this.

So instead, it starts interviewing and cannibalising the soul. Bc a soul is what it needs, this is the closest it's ever felt to being alive. Bc it's made this all about Rosalie, he thinks he's found his solution. The chase is making him feel alive again. It's true love, lads! not the soul.

Wish auction happens - the Ascendent is beaten to the punch by some unknown (hot) wizard.

This avenue cut off, the Ascendent makes the decision to try and win Rosalie back.

Astarion advises that to make her come back to the Gate, he should murder a bunch of people. Because this comes from the soul, not the soulless devil nothingness, it circumvents the pact.

...The events of Pieces begin!

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

And finally - the Ascendent tries to destroy Jar!Starion for many reasons in Chapter 19:

The Ascendent knows that it dies, if the soul and the body get reunited (or is that constant high alert survival instinct just no longer needed, because the problem is fixed? you decide.)

The Ascendent values Tav above itself. Tav is going to fix them. Astarion believes he could never fix himself.

Dissociation - that soul isn't me. I'm here, looking at my soul. If I get too close, it'll kill me.

Self-hatred - that soul isn't me. That man made a mistake, and I've had to live with the consequences. He doesn't deserve to live, for what he's made me become.

The knowledge that Rosalie/Tav will only ever want that version of him, not the one that's living and breathing, that sees itself as the most wretched, fucked-up version of itself. So... give them no choice. They have to deal with me and love me at my worst.

And if the Rite didn't work - if the version of the Ascendent walking around isn't the best one, and the one people want... what was it all for? Why does the Ascendent feel like this? Why does it have to suffer?

･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

....And, that's my little meta post! If anyone has any questions about the timeline or any motivations at any points in the fic, I'm obviously more than happy to explain things via ask/comment, as always!

TLDR: I just wanted to make a Gothic horror. I wanted a dark romance, fucked up obsession vampire/mortal dynamic, but I also wanted a situation that was scary for both Astarion and my Tav. I personally think an Astarion who is so dissociated and separate from reality that he feels that in his bones daily, is scary. It's the lingering impact of the traumas the Rite and those 7,000 souls embodied.

I was literally just trying to make it a horror, for everyone involved.

#metaposts #long posts #my writing #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth #spoilers!#i've never really explained my writing process before in this depth so... I hope it makes sense!#writing meta

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sexygaywerewolf · 3 days

Text

my new Ninjago OC!

more information ↓

I haven't come up with a name for him yet bc I suck at those but I've got a backstory

- He was outcast by his species before the merge because of a reason I haven't fully flushed out yet (thinking of making it so that he can't do any shapeshifting at all and making it an entire allegory), but he deals with a lot of feelings of inadequacy because of this and he thinks he's failed as an Oni

- he was outcast before March of the Oni and was lost between realms trying to find a way back home to the first realm without the power of the darkness to guide him. essentially the realm crystal is the EASIEST way to travel realms but it isn't the only way, and he spent a lot of years alone

-When the merge happens he's forced to live in a world he doesn't understand at all and a lot of people during this time are struggling to figure things out. He manages to find a job at Chen's Noodle House and starts to enjoy the life as someone who serves food so eventually he leaves with enough money saved up and opens up his own restaurant

- I like the idea of someone gaining weight when they're happy bc he used to be really emaciated and could barely eat even 3 times a week due to how hard it was to survive but now he's got a healthy relationship with food and his body and he's generally a pretty sound guy and pretty mature considering things. It doesn't look like he's fat in the image but from experience an apron will hide a lot of that lol

- He does a lot of introspection and his outlook on life is that "it's complicated and messy but at least it's life," and he usually looks at things from a realistic perspective while hoping for the best.

-He still gets irrationally angry at a lot of things though and often he'll find himself taking it out on inanimate objects and then he'll feel bad about it afterwards. He doesn't do it a whole lot in front of people, especially customers, but if he's comfortable around you you'll see him swearing and breaking things (usually with his claws on accident) a lot more

- Meets Lloyd a few weeks after the merge when he just started his job at Chen's and initially Lloyd is weary at first because yk he's an Oni and Lloyd had subconsciously associated Oni with bad and everything wrong in his life, but [name I haven't come up with yet] is essential to something Lloyd is trying to figure out so they need to interact and Lloyd figures out through sheer power of being exposed to something that HEY you dumb idiot your ancestry isn't evil or bad

- He had severe issues for awhile with meeting people's expectations and he constantly ran himself ragged trying to keep himself in multiple places at once. He felt like he had to depend on only himself for a while because of the fact he let down his Oni tribe and because of the fact he lived so long in isolation away from others. When he's hired by Skylor he burns himself out within the first week because he doesn't take a break except to go home and sleep.

- Y y y es this is meant to be an OC shipped with Lloyd but they're both demisexual here bc I will always make my favs be on the ace spectrum no matter what

-Hes 21 when the merge happens and by the events of s1 he's 27 (2 years older than Lloyd). He was outcast by the Oni when he was 15 years old (around the events of season 1)

-fun fact, Oni still have pupils in my hc you just can't see them very well. they're kind of like the changelings from mlp where they do have pupils once you look closely but they blend in so well with their irises that you can hardly see them. most Oni eye colors are red, purple, or blue. some are occasionally orange, yellow, and pink. [name I haven't come up with yet] has purple eyes

- he has so much fur/hair (think kind of like mohair on a goat) that he has to stuff a lot of it in his shirt and then use pins to hold it in place and he spends like 30 minutes each day just combing it

- he works out every other day to help clear his mind and to calm himself down but Oni are naturally pretty big anyways and really strong

- despite the fact he knows how to cook he has the worst appetite known to man and will not hesitate to eat the nastiest things ever. I like to think that anytime Lloyd gets offered gross food (as he's somehow done a lot in the show) he pretends to "steal" it but he does genuinely enjoy every single food he comes across and it's not just something that comes from his life of being outcast it also comes from his Oni biology. Though, he seems to be a lot more inclined to eat certain things even for an Oni

if it's not poison, it's food!

- has abnormally large ears for most Oni and he can hear slightly better than most people. it's also another reason why he stretch himself too thin while working when he first started because he believed everything he heard needed his attention and he was constantly trying to get to multiple places and do many tasks all at once

okay now imma go to bed hehe this was actually really fun

-has a better work/life balance in the future at the very least lol so dw

-has digitigrade feet! they're not very exposed bc he wears baggy pants all the time but if you look down you'll see he's never wearing any shoes and his paws are just out

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lego ninjago fanart #ninjago oc #original character #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #fanart #art #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #its so me to come up with all this lore and never give my characters a name #oni #oni oc #rossartisting

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