#it's nothing to do with the decision itself being right or wrong - it's all to do with the circumstances

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again. 

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing. 

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.” 

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 

“I should have been there.�� He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 

If he failed, this would be it. 

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.” 

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact. 

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 

“Oh you little shit—” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.” 

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 

Once again. 

You will only have one chance. 

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

[kimdokjas]

wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!! #@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg #i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!! #ask #anonymous #tumblr #tumblr update #prev tags #signal boost #supportcontentcreators #evansyhelp #staff #long post for ts #196

[rollinouttahere-writes]

It took the better part of a year, but I've finally figured out where to go with Joyride. A lot of people have been asking for this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Joyride (Part 2)

Part 1

Yandere Ace x GN Isekai Reader

4.8k words

Warning! This contains pretty much every Ace related spoiler btw!

When going into a world you already know everything about, you don’t exactly expect to be surprised by anything. Sure, there will be slight changes and alternate interactions now that you’ve been unceremoniously dropped in, but you had been anticipating for the story to follow all the same beats.

Which is why you were really thrown off when Ace didn’t go his separate way when he was supposed to.

Luffy had succeeded in defeating Crocodile and stopping his plan for dictatorship of Alabasta, but Ace was still here. Granted, having Ace around was hardly the worst thing that could happen, but you didn’t understand what was going on with him.

After your downright bizarre interaction during the little joyride he took you on, you’d honestly had every intention of avoiding him going forward. Then he threw a curveball at you by sincerely apologizing later that night. With everything going on right now he just got a little carried away, that’s all, he won’t harass you about it again. Or so he claimed.

You were skeptical initially, but true to his word, he hasn’t brought up you joining the Whitebeard Pirates since. Between that, and him having an unknown advantage over you by being a favorite character of yours, it was easy to find it within yourself to forgive him. You two have been borderline inseparable since, much to the chagrin of your crewmates. 

While Ace hadn’t openly made further attempts to convince you to join his pops’ crew, he’d found a thinly veiled loophole in the form of telling you all kinds of stories about them. You knew this was in and of itself, a method to win you over, but deemed it not worth calling out. Besides, who were you to refuse the opportunity to get some Whitebeard Pirates lore?

There were many late nights filled with quiet conversations about various shenanigans the crew got up to in their free time, of which there were many. An unsurprising fact because of course having that many sibling jam packed onto a ship would turn it into a vessel of chaos. 

If you had a weaker resolve, these stories might have won you over. But no, you need to go home.

Even though you weren’t convinced on switching crews, or even just staying here, there was a different problem arising from all your quality time together.

The longer you spoke and goofed around with him, the deeper and more intricate the conversations became, the more human he became to you. Or course, he’d technically always been a human being, but your mind had always registered him (as well as everyone else here) as a “character” first and foremost. A figure in a fictional story which you just so happened to be in temporarily. 

Now? After spending so much time with him, aftering seeing him make decisions based off his own experiences and preferences rather than being dictated by some omnipotent author, things have changed. He wasn’t Portgas D. Ace, the fan favorite character from One Piece. He was just Ace, your friend.

With this came something you never saw coming. Guilt. An all consuming, agonizing guilt that picked away at you every single second of the day.

You knew what was to come. You knew what was going to happen to him. What were you doing about it? Absolutely nothing. And for what? For the sake of preserving a story that’s already been altered from your mere presence?

What a disgusting excuse of a friend you were.

The internal conflict you were going through hadn’t gone unnoticed, not when it was taking such a high toll on you. Nami was the first to start grilling you on it. Naturally, she immediately started pointing fingers at Ace as being the cause, which while not wrong, she wasn’t correct in the way she believed herself to be either. It was hardly his fault that you had a heavy conscience. 

Sanji had also picked up on your struggles and was very concerned about the bags under your eyes, even offering to make some tea to assist with sleeping. An offer you turned down perhaps more harshly than truly necessary, but being trapped in a deeper sleep sounded awful with the nightmares you’ve been having.

It had been upsetting enough to watch Ace die through a screen, but in your dreams you were right there. It felt so real.

A suffocating heat burned at your skin and seared your lungs with every panicked breath, which only became more frantic as hot blood splattered over your face. Life was rapidly draining from Ace’s eyes as he collapsed into the waiting arms of his now deeply traumatized brother.

Your feet were rooted to the ground, all you could do was stare in horror as he looked up at you with tearful, pleading eyes. “Why?” The word was more so coughed out than spoken, spraying out more blood that he couldn’t afford to lose. An arm extended towards you, the hand locking onto your own. His nails dug into your skin, drawing out blood of your own to mix with his into a revolting cocktail. “You could have stopped this. How could you do this to me?”

The last word was wheezed out and his body went limp as his dead, lifeless eyes stared through you. A soul wrenching scream tore its way out of Luffy’s throat, only to morph into your own as you were mercifully ripped from your slumber.

The screaming damn near gave Ace a heart attack, you’re sure of it. This nightmare had occurred after you and him had become separated from the rest of the group while traversing the desert, and you had found a compact cave for the two of you to pass the night in.

What made it worse was how he reacted. He was so concerned, even fretting over you as you desperately tried to get your breathing under control. The compassion in his eyes had done nothing to comfort you, it only served to further sicken you. Here he was wanting to save you from something as trivial as a nightmare, yet you couldn’t be bothered to speak up on and prevent his upcoming demise.

The guilt was killing you, and the solution was not only clear, but easy. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to just tell him? To plead and beg for him to give up the chase and not throw his life away. Yet your lips remained sealed. 

All of these elements came to a boil and demanded your attention, so you did what seemed to be the easiest thing to do in your situation. Drink it away.

Now that Luffy had awoken from his brief coma after fighting Crocodile, Alubarna Palace was hosting a lavish party in celebration and thanks for what everyone had done. And what high end party would be complete without absurd amounts of alcohol?

It started with one, purely to help ease your nerves. However, when it didn’t, you poured yourself another. And then a few more. Zoro had initially been thrilled to have you as a drinking buddy, but apparently even he had his limits and had cut you off.

“The hell’s gotten into you? You’re drinking like you’re trying to run from demons,” the bottle of expensive liquor had been moved out of reach when you tried to go for it again.

“You have no idea,” you slurred out, head spinning from your evening of poor decision making.

Zoro shot you a questioning look, but didn’t press it, likely knowing full well that getting a coherent conversation out of you right now would be impossible. He heaved out a sigh and stood up, “I’m going to get you some water, stay right there.”

Thoroughly defeated, you slumped back into your chair. After all that, you still couldn’t get your dilemma out of your head. Your “demons” continued gnawing at your soul, and all that your drinking had done about it was ensure that you would have a miserable hangover in the morning.

Your head lulled to the side, and you caught sight of a familiar orange hat. Speak of the devil. While you were in the throws of self inflicted misery, Ace was happily taking advantage of all the food being offered. Good for him. He deserved a nice night. 

As if acting on its own, your body managed to get up onto its feet. You shambled towards him, doing your best not to fall flat on your face with each uncoordinated step. Whatever invisible force that had been helping you to make the walk to Ace failed you at the last second, and you crashed into him from behind.

“Shit! Wha- Oh, it’s just you,” Ace whirled around, visibly agitated, but his features relaxed when he realized who it was. He appeared to be ready to say more but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you.” 

Ace quirked a brow, “Yeah? What’s up?” 

From the expectant look he was giving you, it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to spill your guts here and now. You shook your head, “No, it’s… It’s a secret. We have to go somewhere else.” Realization flashed across his face and he nodded. Fortunately for you, he led the way. You honestly did not think you’d be able to scout out a place for this discussion. You were finally going to come clean and tell him everything before you could sober up and come to your senses.  

It was going well. At least it was, until he passed out and took you down with him. You both collided onto the floor with a resounding thud, him on top of you. The hall you’d slipped into was empty, meaning there was no one here to help you. 

You groaned as you attempted to move, the fall had hit you harder than it should have thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in your system. You were also mentally kicking yourself for not seeing this coming. He was eating when you stumbled into him, of course it was only a matter of time before this happened.

Whatever, there isn’t time to be bemoaning a minor inconvenience. You manage to shimmy out from under him and use the wall to get to your feet. Ace is snoring on the floor, not a care in the world. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon. 

Taking a look around, you see a door just a couple steps away. You inch your way over to it and try the knob. It clicks open, and you peer in. Looks like some sort of guest room, and it’s empty. Perfect.

Pushing the door open fully, you turn back to Ace. He’s still asleep, but you don’t want to wait around for him to wake up on his own and run the risk of being seen. You lean down to grab the closest part of him, his right foot, and pull. You’re not sure if he’s actually heavy, or if you’re just too drunk for this, but you tip over while trying to do this and fall flat on your ass.

“Huh?” Ace’s head snapped up and he looked around owlishly. The second his eyes connected with yours, he remembered what he was doing before his narcoleptic tendencies took the wheel. He laughed, a light blush on his face, as he got to his feet, “Sorry about that, you alright?”

“I’m fine, get in here,” you urged him to hurry, which he did. In the time it took you to stand again, Ace had already slipped into the room, closed the door, and flicked on a lamp so you two wouldn’t be talking in complete darkness. You eye the door for a moment, then grab a chair and drag it over to wedge it under the doorknob. Someone walking in on the conversation you were about to have would be something of a worst case scenario.

Ace watched this curiously, “Is everything okay?”

This probably looked weird, but oh well, it’s about to get a lot weirder. You decide to sit on the bed and motion for Ace to join you, which he does. You take one of his hands in both of yours and stare at him intensely, “I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

He repeated his previous question, asking again if everything was okay, but you cut him off, “Promise me, please!”

Your desperation got through to him, “Okay, I promise! What’s going on?”

Here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and take the leap, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard.”

Ace recoiled immediately, and if you hadn’t been holding onto his hand for dear life, he probably would have backed away from you. “What? I can’t do that, why would y-”

“Let me finish!” You snapped at him, only to immediately regret it. You sighed, “Please. There’s more, please let me finish talking first, and then you can talk.”

While he did not look happy about it, he did relax his shoulders and settled back into the bed. You took this as your cue to continue, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard because you will die if you do.” Ace exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes at this, assuming that this was coming from a place of fear and doubt.

“I know this because,” you took in a shuddering breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “I know this because in the world that I came from… This world is a story.”

Ace stares at you wide eyed and slack jawed. He laughed, but was very clearly uncomfortable, “I, uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight. How about I take you back to your room to sleep it off, okay?” 

He tried to stand, but you yanked him back down, “No! I’m not drunk! Well, I mean, I am, but I know what I’m talking about! I can prove it.”

His expression was nothing short of incredulous, but he indulged you, “Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead, prove it.”

“You’re hunting down Blackbeard because he murdered Thatch so he could steal his devil fruit,” you started light. Ace had told you about Thatch being the one he was avenging, but he’d never mentioned the devil fruit before, likely not deeming it an important enough detail. His brows knit together and his eyes drifted upwards as he racked his brain to remember if maybe he actually had said something about it.

“Before you were with Whitebeard, you were captain of the Spade Pirates. Your first member was Masked Deuce, who you met while being stranded on an island together. It’s where you found your devil fruit and built Striker,” he hadn’t told you anything in regards to his old crew, and his face reflected that. You definitely had his attention now.

“You and Luffy were raised by mountain bandits because Garp couldn’t raise you two himself. It wasn’t just you guys, though, you had another brother named Sabo, but he was killed when he tried to set sail and got shot down,” at this point, you were saying whatever came to mind with no regard to whether or not it was a good idea to say this right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking him in the eye, so you settled for staring at his hand in yours. It was completely slack.

“Your parents are Portgas D. Rouge and Gol D. R-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Ace’s free hand clamped over your mouth with such ferocity that you almost fell off the bed. Forcing yourself to make eye contact again, you see that his are blown wide and wild. The color has been drained from his face and he looked physically ill from hearing everything you just threw at him.

An extremely tense moment passed with nothing to be heard beyond his labored breathing. Then, he hesitantly let go of your face and with a shaky voice said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe you. What… What’s going to happen if I keep pursuing Blackbeard?”

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away, “When you catch up with him, you’ll fight, but lose. Your powers are no match for his, you don’t stand a chance against him. After your loss, he turns you in to the marines. 

“Because of who your father is, they decide to make an example out of you and sentence you to death.”

“That bastard turns me in and I get executed?” He sounds like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Disbelief and bitterness are the two most prevalent emotions in his tone, but many others brew beneath the surface.

“Not exactly,” it’s true that he gets turned in and killed, but it’s nowhere near that simple and straightforward. “Luffy comes to your rescue at Marineford, and so does Whitebeard and a lot of his crew.”

Before you could go more into detail, Ace speaks up, “They… W-Why would they do that?”

“Why would they- You have to ask?!” Your voice raises and you have to remind yourself of just how much character development he has to go through in that arc to finally realize and accept the fact that he’s genuinely loved. “Because you’re family, their family! They care about you and don’t want to see you die!”

Your outburst shocked him, but not as much as seeing you start to cry did. His hand is abandoned and you lurch forward to bring him into a suffocatingly tight hug, “Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” You limply hang off of him as more tears bubble to the surface, greedily taking the chance to escape with every sob as you finally let out everything you’ve been keeping in. Ace makes no move to return your embrace, he just sits there stiff as a board. 

“A-And, at that battle, you’re killed by Admiral Akainu while protecting Luffy. He’s devastated by it, being forced to watch you die hurts him so bad,” you cling onto him tighter upon feeling him flinch from your words. “Whitebeard dies there too.”

“What?! How could anyone kill him? That can’t be right!” You’re wrenched off Ace violently and his stare is almost as unhinged as it was when you said his parents’ names.

“Blackbeard does it,” Ace freezes at this. “That should give you an idea of how strong he is. If he can kill Whitebeard, fighting you is nothing to him. Besides, you of all people would know how hard it is to kill him,” you chuckle but it’s humorless, empty even.

A heavy stretch of silence follows after that. Ace’s eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, desperately searching for anything that would tell him that this is all one big, sick joke. But there’s nothing of the sort. 

Slowly, he releases your shoulders and he shifts away from you to rest his head in his hands. Without his support, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed. Between all the alcohol and your emotional outburst, you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but it feels like an insurmountable task. 

“Hey, Ace?” There’s no answer, but you continue anyway, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot. If, um… If you don’t believe me about knowing what’s going to happen, stick around until after we set sail again. Bon Clay- Mr. 2- is going to bring the Going Merry over here so that we don’t have to backtrack. Marines will be all over the place, but he sacrifices himself so that Luffy and his crew can get away. Once they’ve lost the marines, Nico Robin will reveal herself to have been hiding on the ship and joins the crew.”

Ace continues to not react to what’s being said, you’re not even sure he’s listening to you at this point. As much as you want to comfort him, your limbs feel like lead and your head is swimming. The last thing you see is the jolly roger of the Whitebeard’s staring you down as you fade into darkness.

—

Consciousness comes back to you slowly. Painfully so. Before you can even make out your surroundings, you’re assaulted by the worst headache of your life. The stabbing pain behind your eyes is crippling, all you want is to retreat back to the comfort of sleep, but you know that’s not going to happen.

It doesn’t help that your mouth is so dry that you feel like you’re back in the desert. One hand comes up to gingerly massage your eyes. The action brought more discomfort than relief, but it did clear up your sight a little. 

As your senses ebb back into you, you hone in on the pressure all over your body. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to lift your head enough to take a look. Your nose is less than an inch from bumping into someone else’s. Chopper’s to be exact. He was curled up into your side and using your chest as a pillow. Looking past him, Luffy was sprawled across your lap, belly up. Both of them were still asleep.

You prop yourself up on one arm. Chopper shifts, but doesn’t wake. Off to your side is a bedside table with a glass of water on it. Oh, thank God. Using the arm you aren’t propped up with, you grab it and bring the cup to your lips. The water is divine, an absolute blessing for your dry throat.  

As you enjoy your drink, your eyes glance around to observe the rest of the room. It’s the one you all have been staying in since saving Alabasta. Most of your friends are in their respective beds, except for Chopper and Luffy, obviously. Zoro was also not in his bed, instead being slumped over in a chair next to your own.

Your eyes flicker over to the massive windows of the room, and you spot Ace sitting in the windowsill. From the way he’s positioned, he appears to be awake already. Your gaze narrows as you focus on him. Something tickled at the back of your mind, demanding to be remembered. But what?

“Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” 

The water going down your throat is suddenly going out of it when you choke. Memories come back and hit you like a train as you realize what exactly it is you did last night.

Naturally, this wakes up Chopper and Luffy, who are both jolted from their once peaceful sleep by you choking on your drink. Chopper immediately starts to panic, “AH! Don’t die, (Y/N)!”

—

It was crucial that you speak to Ace again, but it seemed like the world itself was committed to making sure that didn’t happen. Ace slipped out of the room while everyone was fussing over you, and it honestly felt like he was avoiding you now. Everytime you thought you might be able to catch him alone, either he vanishes, or someone else comes out of nowhere to drag you away.

Today was the day you all set sail from Alabasta, and while that did put you in close proximity with Ace, it also put everyone else within earshot of you two. And considering the delicate nature of what you needed to talk about, that was extremely inconvenient. 

The only good thing was that the events following leaving Alabasta played out exactly how they were supposed to. Hopefully that meant that Ace would believe you and give up hunting down Blackbeard, but you won’t be able to confirm that unless you speak with him. 

You were so stressed that you’d barely been able to focus on Robin being here. She “introduced” herself to you as if she hadn’t had an extremely uncomfortable run in with you in an alleyway back in Rainbase, but all you could manage was a half-assed handshake before excusing yourself.

For probably the fifteenth time today, you checked to make sure that Striker was still tied to the Merry. It was, much to your relief. But where was Ace hiding? You haven’t seen him since Robin showed herself.

The stress of trying and failing to corner him was doing nothing to help with your hangover, your head felt like it was about to explode. Did you still have Advil in the bag you got isekai’d here with? Maybe. Pushing off the railing, you march to where your room is while praying that you’re right about the painkillers.

You open the door without much thought, only to stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of Ace rummaging through your belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. The door opening did briefly make him stop and peer over his shoulder to see who it was, but the second he saw it was you, he went right back to pillaging. 

“Can I help you? Why are you robbing me?” You stomp over to where he’s crouched down and shove his shoulder. 

“I’m not robbing you, I’m packing for you,” Ace mumbled, sounding lost in thought.

“Why would you be packing for me? Actually, you know what? That’s the least of my concerns right now, we need to talk about last night.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here.” He still hasn’t properly faced you, and you were getting sick of only making eye contact with his tattoo and not him. 

“Where else would we talk about it?!” You hissed.

Seeming content with his work, he stood up and kicked the dresser drawer shut, “On the Striker. Or maybe the Moby Dick, I guess. I’m going back and you’re coming with me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to the Moby Dick, and you’re coming with me.” Ace had finally turned to face you. His eyes were sunken and vaguely bloodshot. 

The sight catches you off guard, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shook his head, “No, we’re going to have to stop somewhere else to sleep before going the rest of the way back home.”

“Ace, I’m not going with you. Look, I’m happy that you’re calling off your hunt, relieved honestly, but I’m staying here.” You will ideally be figuring out how to go home sometime soon, there’s no sense in hopping around from crew to crew now.

One of his eyes twitched, and he looked exasperated, “You can’t stay here. You aren’t safe here.”

“What are you-”

“Let me finish,” the words were spoken calmly, but very firm. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. You apparently know everything about this world and what’s going to happen in it, do you have any idea what will happen to you if word gets out about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told, so as long as you keep your mouth shut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you get drunk again and tell someone else, then what?” His words were just as scathing as his gaze.

Your face flushed in shame, “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that!” Ace snapped at you, then sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “This is for your own good. Nothing good will come from anyone else learning about this. If it ever got back to someone like Big Mom, she would send every single one of her children after you so she could have you on her side. And that’s the nicer option. I’m sure the marines would be more than happy to kill you off so that no one else could have you if they can’t.”

Throughout this entire conversation, his face had remained uncomfortably neutral, but now it cracked. Fondness peaked through the exhaustion as his expression softened ever so slightly. He steps forwards and brings you against him in a crushing embrace. His skin is hot to the touch, effectively chasing away any chill that you may have had.

“You said you wanted to see me live, and I want to see you live, too.” The words are hushed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been speaking right next to your ear.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself away. His face is serious again, “We’re leaving tonight, be ready to go.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come willingly, I will make you. The only thing that you resisting will accomplish is making this messier than it needs to be. Even if you don’t like this now, you will thank me for it later.”

Ace spins on his heel and heads for the door. All you can do is stand there gawking at him as he leaves. Just before the door closes behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #monkey d luffy #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #roronoa zoro #platonic yandere

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.

What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).

You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.

So.

We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.

Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?

One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).

This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):

The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.

He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.

Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.

So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:

And this is where he stops:

Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):

Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"

Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.

He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.

He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.

Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.

He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.

We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.

Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.

Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.

Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.

All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.

Ready?

Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.

Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.

This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.

And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.

Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.

He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.

With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.

Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3

-

*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens kiss #good omens 2 meta #no nightingales

[justalia]

persistence

this is probably gonna be my last post before i retreat into a serious break because i have things outside this manifesting world i need to sort through (i’m extra happy don’t worry about me, nothing happened!) i always say i go on break but i never actually do or it lasts just a few days but i’m for real this time!

i wanted to leave before but i felt the urge to post this cause i feel there’s a lot of doubt and confusion around this topic.

many of you still view persisting as a chore, as something you HAVE TO do or else.. something you must do or else..

many of you still view persisting as a job, tiring annoying and something you don’t necessarily wanna do if it wasn’t because you are manifesting.

this stems from a complete lack of understanding of the law.

what is persistence?

now i want you to pay particular attention to the second definition:

“the continued or prolonged existence of something.”

to persist within the law of assumption is to continue being.

nothing more nothing less, it is to just continue being who you decided that you are.

i’m sooo sure that all of you that are just approaching the law and are reading this post are having these specific thoughts right now:

“but i can’t live in my imagination forever”

“oh but i can’t imagine all the time, i have a life”

“yeah i persist but it’s tiring, i don’t wanna do all that”

“i have to persist so it manifests but i don’t have the time or the will to imagine all the time”

“i fulfill myself and persist but it doesn’t work”

or even..

“i get it! i wanna imagine all the time i don’t wanna do my daily tasks cause i just wanna live in imagination”

news flash:

YOU DON’T PERSIST IN THE IMAGINAL ACT. YOU PERSIST IN THE IMPLICATION THE IMAGINAL ACT MAKES ABOUT YOU.

no shit you find it tiring and see it as a job if you think you have to constantly visualize/affirm to persist in being.

whatever your imaginal act may be: IT IMPLICATES SOMETHING ABOUT YOU. IT CHANGES SOMETHING ABOUT YOU.

now i’m gonna take visualization as an example because i am a visualizer and this was exactly the mistake i kept falling into during my early days applying the law.

i thought i had to visualize my desire as much as i could, i saw imagination = visualization (for me) so to persist i must visualize all the time.

“i enjoy it, what’s wrong about it?”

look at yourself, look at your intentions: why are you doing this?

why are you constantly affirming/visualizing?

okay you like it, but why?

my assumption is that you are using imagination as an escape from what you deem reality. you still see your 3D as reality instead of a mere reflection of your state in imagination and use imagination as an escape from what you decided is reality.

you see this world of shadows, you don’t like it you think: i can visualize this!

which isn’t inherently wrong in itself but LOOK at your intentions. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’RE IMPLYING WITH YOUR ACTIONS/DECISIONS.

if that’s what your doing this means you don’t understand the law. you don’t understand that imagination is reality and you don’t understand what persisting actually is.

you’re always persisting in being

“i can’t live in imagination all the time, i want my desire in front of me!!”

well boo, hate to break it to you but when you come to me and tell me these things i genuinely think your dumb and i’m not even gonna bother replying to your question to try and help you.

why? because first of all it’s clear you haven’t even taken the time out of your day to read my posts, if not the source at least read the posts of the person you wanna ask a question to.

second of all.

WHAT ARE YOU NOT UNDERSTANDING ABOUT THE SENTENCE “IMAGINATION IS REALITY”?

imagination IS reality because YOU ARE ALREADY LIVING INSIDE IMAGINATION.

how?

YOU MAKE ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT WHO YOU ARE ALL THE DAMN TIME.

what’s wrong about these assumptions is that you create them based on this world of shadows that is inherently reflecting you instead of actually allowing yourself to be and have whoever the fuck you want in this world BECAUSE YOU ARE GOD.

YOU PERSIST IN BEING SOMEONE ALL THE DAMN TIME.

RIGHT NOW YOU’RE PERSISTING IN BEING UNLOVED, UNCHOSEN, UNWANTED, POOR, BROKE, UNSUCCESSFUL BASED ON WHAT???

YOUR ASSUMPTIONS!!!!!

you look at this world of shadows that is reflecting YOU and think “YEP that is the end! that is who i am i can’t do anything about it! that’s my identity forever!”

YOU ASSUME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF ALL DAY EVERY DAY!!!!!

and you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you’re unloved and unwanted, are you?

you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you are poor and broke, are you?

you’re not constantly visualizing scenarios in which you are unsuccessful and insecure, are you?

RIGHT!!!!

you’re just assuming that you are..

YEAH.. shocker right?

do you or do you not understand that imagination IS reality?

did you or did you not wake up to who you actually are?

if God is within you, if YOU ARE A FIGMENT OF GOD, if you truly realized that we were put on this earth to realize our power and put it to the extreme tests to live this lovely human life to the fullest, if you ACTUALLY realized this… do you understand that you can BE AND HAVE whatever the fuck you want?

if you UNDERSTAND FULLY that this life is simply a reflection of your wonderful imagination.. do you understand that ALL THAT YOU HAVE TO CHANGE IS IMAGINATION?

THE SCRIPT HAS BEEN FLIPPED! YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT. YOU CAN HAVE AND BE WHOEVER YOU WANT AND IT’LL BE REFLECTED.

you can actually create a new identity for yourself inside of imagination and stick with it because that’s who you truly are!!!

remember this:

YOU DON’T PERSIST IN THE IMAGINAL ACT. YOU PERSIST IN THE IMPLICATION OF THE IMAGINAL ACT.

let’s say you want your person back, how would i properly go about it?

if i wanted to use a method: i would imagine a scene that implies we are together, enjoy it fully, leaving the world outside of myself and feeling what i TRULY want to feel. i would internalize that there are infinite realities and i am just choosing the reality i would like to experience right now, i leave the outer world alone because right now it is showing me something i don’t want. i recognize it is another reality i previously created and whatever i see is LOCKED to that state, i’m not CHANGING THAT STATE, i’m choosing another one to experience that already exists or else i wouldn’t even want it. when i open my eyes i know that i am what my imaginal scene implied. i know i am that which i want to be despite the opposition of the senses because I KNOW imagination IS THE ONLY reality. this is when persistence comes in: what am i persisting in? I’M PERSISTING IN THE KNOWING THAT I AM WHAT MY IMAGINAL ACT IMPLIED. i actually am in the relationship of my dreams and i persist because that’s the only truth.

if i didn’t want to use a method: i decide/choose i already am who i want to be because i can see it with my mind’s eye, i imagine i already am who i want to be without needing to close my eyes and see it in a scene. i know i am who i want to be in imagination, it’s undeniable cause the moment i assume something about myself i instantly see it in imagination. now who did i decide to be? i decided to be in the relationship of my dreams with my person. what do i persist in? i persist in knowing that’s who i actually am now.

DONE! FINITO.

notice how i didn’t talk about the 3D expression. not even once.

i know that imagination is the only reality and i know that this life is SIMPLY imagination reflected, so when i put on some clothes do i go and check the mirror to see if i’m actually dressed or naked? I KNOW I’M CLOTHED, i don’t need the mirror to check if i’m naked or not.

ask me again “how do i believe imagination is the only reality?” and i’m gonna slap you across the face.

YOU JUST BELIEVE IT. YOU JUST ACCEPT IT.

TEST HOW THIS WORKS.

not IF IT WORKS. TEST HOW.

imagine something and assume that your imaginal act is FACT and not the act going on on the outside.

and when the old man tries to come back what do you do?

BE INDIFFERENT.

THAT’S NOT WHO YOU ARE ANYMORE. ACCEPT A NEW IDENTITY IN ITS PLACE.

you already experienced all that you could experience in that state, so accept a new identity NOW.

the 3D is not your enemy. it cannot do anything on its own.

it follows your state and it adapts to you without you needing to adapt to it.

[merakiui]

simply business.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.

Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.

“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”

If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.

Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.

Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.

Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.

With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.

“I aim to surprise.”

“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”

He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.

“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”

“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.

Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.

“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”

He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”

“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”

He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”

“I see.”

You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”

Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.

“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”

“Very.”

“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”

“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”

“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”

He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

“Aren’t you diligent?”

The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”

“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”

“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”

“Is that all?”

You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”

“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”

“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.

What was that about?

“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”

“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”

“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”

“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”

“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”

“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”

Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!

As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.

“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”

“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”

“And if it was an individual effort?”

“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”

“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”

That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?

You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”

“Do you plan to be?”

“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”

“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”

Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”

“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”

Just what kind of test is that?

“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”

“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”

“A fine attitude to have.”

“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”

No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…

“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.

That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?

“If I may ask one final question…”

“Sure thing!”

Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”

More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.

Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.

“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”

“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”

You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”

“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”

Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”

Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.

“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”

“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”

Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.

And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.

Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”

“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”

“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”

Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.

Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.

Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.

“Will I truly get the job?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“On how far you’re willing to go.”

“C-Can he leave?”

Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”

“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.

You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”

“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”

Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.

“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.

It’s not worth it. I should leave.

You should, but can you?

“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”

Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.

I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.

Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.

Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.

From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.

“Will that be all?”

“Keep going.”

“Haven’t I done enough?”

“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”

You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.

“I’ve seen enough.”

“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.

You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”

“For now.”

At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.

“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”

As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.

“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.

It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.

I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.

When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.

“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”

The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”

“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”

You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #n/sfw

[nctinkverse]

Promissa Redux

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Genre: mature, smut, angst, fluff, minors dni.

Preview and plot warnings (I will update as I go): dad Jaehyun, pregnancy, MC is a mom, mature, slow burn, excessive angst, abundant plot, and probably way too much dialogue, exes to lovers, Jaehyun 's family is in this (at least as I imagine they might be), a lot of intimacy, explicit content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of exes, heavy make-out session and annoying co-workers.

WC Preview: 1000

WC Total: Not sure, probably it will be 5.000 - 10.000?

Chapter 1 - Shattered promises & Broken vows. Chapter 2 - Valentines Day.

Chapter 3 - One call away is not close enough.

SYNOPSIS: Most of the fairy tales and romance novels, it all seems perfect after the happily ever after. But what if some stories started at the end?

Well not the end per se, nobody was dying.

But you always questioned, do princess get a divorce?

Do female main characters give up the man they fought to love after so many chapters?

At 32 years of age, divorced, mom to an incredible 5-year-old girl who was the greatest thing you and the love of your life ever did, you thought again about the same questions you had when you were 14 and your parents got divorced.

Jung was your last name for 2 years, Mrs. Jung was your title and you loved it, he was sweet, loving, an amazing father and so good to you in bed that you never forgot truly what it felt like to be loved by him.

Your story stated way past the end, the not so happily ever after.

It didn’t have many twists and turns like a superhero movie that keeps you hanging at the edge of your seat for the next plot twist.

In your mind, life was already full of uncertainties, hard decisions, mistakes and paying the price for choosing paths.

Life itself was already hard enough without the responsibilities of superpowers.

So how you ended up thinking about all that again at 32 years old, while holding an engagement ring box you found on your lover’s pocket while picking it up of the floor, it was something you will have to find the answers, probably soon.

------------------------Preview----------------------------------------

You were fast asleep when the phone rang. The name on the screen making you jump, why is he calling at this hour? This can’t be a good thing.

Immediately you laid your back on the headboard and answered the call.

"Hi."

"Jaehyun, is something wrong?"

"Oh, no…" You let out a relieved breath, being half asleep making you grumpy.

"Good lord, Jaehyun, it's 4 a.m!" You said, raising your voice a little.

"Oh shoot… um sorry… I didn’t check for the time zones. I should have called another –

You interrupted his rambling. He’s not usually someone to call, he could just spill so you can go back to sleep.

"Jae, spill, what’s the gossip, huh?"

He let out a little laugh since the gossip joke was an old one between you two.

"No gossip, but I do have something."

"Clearly, it's something good or you wouldn’t be calling on impulse, spill, Jaehyun."

"Yeah right…" He hesitated a bit, his telltale sign usually being him coughing even though there was nothing wrong with his voice. "I got sent this script for this movie, they want me as the main male character..." He hesitated again, which made you ask.

"Jaehyun, what did you do?"

"I sent a copy of the script to your mailbox."

You could feel your sleepiness going away as you scolded him.

"Jaehyun, are you nuts? You can’t ship stuff like this in the mail! What if it gets –"

"It got delivered today." He interrupted, making you stop your thinking.

Scrambling for a thought since he didn’t elaborate, you asked.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with it?! I’m not a male actor, Jung."

"Read, dummy, read."

"And do what?"

"Tell me if you want it."

You opened your mouth to be obnoxious, pointing out the obvious, but Jaehyun must have listened to your 'I’m about to give you an earful' breath and went first.

"Listen, it’s an amazing script, just like the ones you used to want to work on. There’s an opening for a cinematographer, and I know you’re a hell of a good one, so if you want, it’s yours." He said in one breath, probably afraid you would interrupt again.

But from all he said, this part really got you confused.

"What do you mean it’s mine?"

"I showed the director your profile and portfolio, and he said yes."

"Fuck, Jaehyun." You didn’t know what to say since he was never one to interfere in your personal life since the D word.

"You’re sleepy, and I know how grumpy you can be at this hour, so… I still have to tell you two more things, the job is in the states, probably 3-4 months of filming, and I am supposed to give an answer on the male character in 48 hours. We would have to work together, and we would probably have to strike a deal with my parents since we can’t pull Junnie out of school, so…"

You understood what he said, but you needed at least a cup of coffee to process it. But before you could say anything, he went off again.

"I can give it up if you want." He said almost like a whisper.

"Give what up?"

"The character."

"You didn’t like it?"

"No, but –

You interrupted again.

"So, if you do like it, why would you give it up?" It made no sense to you.

"For you –"

It still didn’t make sense why he would give it up.

"Give it up for ME?"

"I like it, Y/N, but this script has you written all over it… and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being there."

Now you got him, yet he was about the last person in this world who could make you uncomfortable.

"Yuno…" You said in a softer tone.

You heard his breath and a soft "yeah?"

"I don’t hate you." You stated in your most soft yet firm tone, it was one of the things he must not forget about you two.

"I know, Y/N, I know."

"I am going to read it and think about what you said, ok? Don’t do anything hasty."

"Ok, I will let you go back to sleep."

"I’m not sleeping after all this, you know right?" You said, letting out a small huff.

"I know."

"What I am about to do is getting up, making some coffee and grabbing the script out of my mailbox, does it sound good to you?" You were being just a bit playful.

"It does, love."

That word made you warm like butter melting on a frying pan. Still, that wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him to call you. So, you let it slide.

"Well, for sure it’s better than staying in bed tossing and turning."

He let out a small giggle, he knew you were one of those to fight a lot with your bed at night.

"Good morning, love."

"Good afternoon to you?" You didn’t know what timezone he was on, so you tried.

"Try again." He said with a smiling voice.

"Good night!" You said like you had guessed the lottery numbers.

He let out a giggle sound and said, "Give little Nari 1000 kisses from me, will you?

"Why just a thousand?" You said with a little pout. You could hear his playful tone.

"Don’t you know our daughter? She might ask for in real life a thousand kisses; since you are the closest parent, you might fall victim to it, so I think that’s a great number for kisses."

You both giggled, Jung Nari, the lily to our garden, was at that phase where hyperboles would be a tough concept for her to grasp.

"Ok, fine." You agreed still giggling.

"I will call… stay safe."

"You too, Jaehyun."

"Bye."

"Bye."

And the line went silent.

#nct #kpop smut #nct series #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #nct x reader #nct scenarios #fic:promissa redux

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Meet Cute Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🩷 You Make Lovin' Fun by @homosociallyyours {E, 109k}

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

🩷 Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 {M, 38k}

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

🩷  hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle {E, 37k}

Every Holiday season Louis has his pupils write down their Christmas wishes for class. He's read almost every wish under the sun, but one girl's wish takes him by surprise. It's for her uncle not to be alone anymore. It's not a wild wish by any means, but Louis had no idea that former teen idol Harry Styles was lonely in the first place.

🩷 From the Start by @allwaswell16 {E, 32k}

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

🩷 On This Winter's Night by @reminiscingintherain {T, 27k}

When a random bloke offers his lap for a seat on a busy bus in December, Louis' Christmas ends up being much different, and far less lonely than he was expecting.

🩷 What Side Of Love Are You On? by @fallinglikethis {T, 25k}

Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart.

A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.

🩷 A Road To Something Better by @taggiecb {E, 25k}

Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. But nothing is as he expects it to be in the very best way, especially not the handsome mayor of McAll, Idaho.

🩷 Naked & Proud by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 18k}

The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…

“'Naked & Proud?'” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.

He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?

And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

🩷 Single Bells Ring by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {M, 16k}

A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love. Just as Louis is settling in, ready to have a terrible time, he meets the fittest alpha he’s ever come across.

🩷 love so soft, you ain’t had nothing softer (series) by @neondiamond {E, 15k}

Louis is an Alpha with an odd obsession for gummy bears. Harry is an Omega who makes friends a little too easily. They meet on the bus.

🩷 Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt {G, 14k}

Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something. He felt calm. Relaxed. The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him. “Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.” Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him. “I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits. “You’re gonna kink shame me?”

Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers

🩷 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 11k}

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

🩷 The Art of the Giants by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox {G, 10k}

Louis is dancing away from an old relationship when he meets Harry at a bookstore in the busy streets of Seattle. Harry is just a bookstore owner hoping his handsome weekly visitor could become something more.

🩷 All Shook Up by @littleroverlouis {T, 9k}

Memphis, Tennessee is looking to crown the Ultimate Elvis Tribute artist. A majority of the contestants are content to shake their hips on stage, but singer-songwriter Harry is taking it more seriously. He is confident his voice and charisma will send him straight through to the finals.

He is already polishing his crown before even setting foot on stage, until he meets a fellow competitor. Louis is talented, charming, and a natural born performer. He commands the stage— and Harry's attention.

Harry has his eye on the prize and the Ultimate title, but what happens when someone becomes the ultimate prize?

🩷 The Way to My Heart by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 {T, 6k}

Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular.

The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

🩷 Only Reason by @letsjustsee {NR, 5k}

“We are so lucky to have with us one of the leading experts on beekeeping in the modern age, Dr. Louis Draper.” No. No, no, no… “I know I speak for many of us when I say that this man’s books have guided our practice, or helped us get started,” Harry continued, and Louis watched as the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Oh shit. No. What? No. But then Harry was gesturing towards him, saying “Dr. Draper?” into the microphone, the crowd was applauding, and Louis found himself walking up the stairs to the stage.

Or, Louis is most definitely smitten with Harry from the second he sees him, but he is also most definitely not the world's foremost expert on beekeeping. He decides to roll with it anyway.

🩷 Unplant by @hellolovers13 {M, 4k}

Please do not disturb my plant She needs 2 hours of sunlight a day and I live in a sunless flat I’ll be back to collect her soon Thank you and stay well.

or Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

🩷 Validation by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}

“Hey, how are you?” Harry asked. He’d found that sometimes just a smile and a kind face was all that was needed to brighten someone’s day.

“Oh, uhm. I’m alright. Can you validate me?”

Harry chuckled inwardly, but decided to go ahead and take him literally.

Or the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.

🩷 more than that by @nouies {NR, 3k}

Harry looks for the best bread in France. He finds Louis.

🩷 an honest mistake by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 2k}

“You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him.

Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.

#ficrec #meetcute #hljournal #hlcreators #trackinghappily #1dficvillage #trackinghome #hlsource #hltracks #disgruntledkittenface #nouies #allwaswell16 #lululawrence #hellolovers13 #letsjustsee #ladyaj13 #littleroverlouis #asphodelknox #quickedween #neondiamond #lunarheslwt #kiwikero #taggiecb #2tiedships2 #nonsensedarling #homosociallyyours #turnyourankle #fallinglikethis #reminsicingintherain

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Find Your Way Back Home: Part Five

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: smut, made to feel worthless, being told you're only good for fucking and nothing else, feeling guilty for sleeping with someone else, angst

Summary: Dean left. He left to be with some other woman while you were left behind to pick up the pieces after Sam fell into the cage. Now he's back, you're not sure how he is, but he's... different. More ruthless... sexier, even. You two start your own friends-with-benefits thing until Dean comes back into your life, and all those emotions you've been repressing come shining through.

Author’s Note: This is the fifth part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is thirty-one, the reader is twenty-three, and Sam is twenty-seven.

x

You pull your hair into a tight ponytail while staring at yourself in the mirror. You hate to say that you’re starting to not recognize the person staring back at you. She didn't ask to be this way. She got life thrust into the palm of her hands and was told to deal with it. When you first got into hunting, you didn't think you’d end up here.

Focus, Y/N. Don’t think about that. Get ready.

Whenever you go on hunts, you put your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. People have told you to cut it since it’s so long but you like your hair too much to do that to it. You grab two knives off your vanity and slip them into their holsters when you feel hands on your shoulder. You close your eyes when they start to roam down your body around your curves.

If you close your eyes, you can still pretend it’s him.

He turns you in his arms and presses his lips against yours. It still feels wrong kissing him even after so much time has passed since him. Before he can distract you, you pull away from him and open your eyes. Sam stands in front of you, and no matter how hard you picture Dean, it’s always going to be Sam now.

Dean left you for the last time. He left you right after Sam fell into the cage to be with her. Lisa. Lisa fucking Braeden. In the beginning, you were hurt and confused as to why he would choose her over you. Why would he choose a woman he hasn’t seen or spoken to in eight years over the woman he’s been with since he was eighteen?

It broke your heart to see him with her, to see him be happy with her, but you told yourself this is what he chose. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe telling you to move on, you don’t know what was. He was able to so why shouldn’t you? It was a shock to find Sam roaming about after he fell into the cage, but he claims he doesn’t know how he got out. All he knows is that he fell into the cage and he woke up on solid ground.

He’s been different since came back, more ruthless, more impulsive, but you figured spending time with two archangels would do that to a person. You choose not to think too much about it because then you’re forced to think about you and Sam together which forces you to think about Dean and the decision he made without you.

“You look so good right now,” Sam whispers. He leans down and kisses your neck not-so-gently while nipping at the skin. “I could just eat you for hours.”

“We need to go on the hunt,” you sigh and tip your head back.

“I can be quick.”

Before Sam can sink to his knees, the door to the bedroom opens. You pull away from him to see Samuel Campbell, the Winchester’s grandfather, standing there with a scowl on his face.

“What’s taking so long? We need to go.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

You push Sam away from you and grab your gun off the vanity. Hunting had become routine since shacking up with Sam, so this is light work. You’re seriously impressed with how far you’ve come. You’re not the same scared little ten-year-old Sam and Dean met.

Hunting with Sam is a whole experience in and of itself. As you’ve mentioned before, he’s ruthless and doesn’t care who gets in his way. He will fuck up whoever he needs to fuck up without regard to who is getting in his way.

“Y/N, take Sam with you to the back end of the house. We’ll take the front. Remember, this guy is an alpha. It’ll take more than just silver to take it down,” Samuel warns.

“Got it. Shoot it with silver bullets a ton.” You turn to Sam who is already moving to the back of the house. “Sam!” You roll your eyes and quickly catch up to him. “You can’t go off on your own.”

“You’re not my keeper, Y/N. I’m just here to do the damn job.”

Damn, Hell must have really fucked him up. What happened to the young man who took everything personally and wore his heart on his sleeve? What’s in front of you now is a shell of the man you once knew. Doubt and uncertainty creep in the back of your mind but you push it down because if you confront it, you’ll have to look into why Sam is so different. That might mean drama for you. That might mean bringing Dean back into your life, and you can’t do that to yourself.

Sam takes the lead, as always, and completes the hunt in record time. He is fearless and doesn’t let the alpha’s pets stand in his way. He was gonna kill the alpha if it weren’t for Samuel asking to keep it. He claims he wants to interrogate the creature before killing it, and Sam doesn’t care enough to ask questions.

He didn’t bat an eye when Samuel took the creature away.

Sam builds up so much energy during hunts that he usually works out to get rid of it, but this time he decides to take you back to his bedroom. Since coming back, he’s never been gentle with you. All he wants is a rough fuck, and you’re delusional enough to give it to him. If you told him to stop, he would, but he feels too damn good to actually stop.

There is no prep time with him, other than checking to see if you’re dripping for him, which you are. Dean has been rough with you every once in a while which is one of your kinks. Sam must have figured it out because he loves manhandling the women he fucks.

He flips you on all fours and grabs your hips to pull your ass into the air. Underwear is no obstacle for him because he grabs the sides of the flimsy fabric and rips it into two.

“Shit, Sam. That was my favorite pair.”

“I’ll buy you more.”

He won’t. He pulls his cock out of his pants and runs the tip up and down your slit. Dean was the only one you’ve ever been bare with before Sam. It feels weird to have another man’s cock inside you when you’re still so in love with Dean. It’s a damn good thing you’re still on the pill because you’d never forgive yourself if you got pregnant with Sam’s child.

After coating his cock with your wetness, he slides into your pussy easily. He sets a hard and fast pace from the get-go, and you arch your back with your mouth in an O shape. He grabs your hair to keep your back arched as he pounds into you.

“Fuck! Sam!” you gasp.

With his free hand, he slaps your ass twice to watch it bounce. Not that he needs any help because his hips are doing a good job of it.

“Next time, I’m fucking this ass,” he grunts out.

You hate how easily he can bring you to the brim. It’s like he’s not even trying when it comes to you. He doesn’t stop after the first orgasm, no. He brings you over the edge four more times before coming himself. He’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.

Dean is still on your mind but you’ve fucked Sam so much that he’s pushed all the way to the back. That’s what hunting with Sam for months on end will do to you. Dean is still living in his bubble of happiness while you try to pick up the pieces he left behind.

After months of hunting alphas and bringing them to Samuel, you finally get a break. He’s hunting the vampire alpha which is going to take time since he’s very crafty. He got word that alphas were dying so he took extra precautions to hide away. Still, that doesn’t stop Samuel from going after him.

“Hey, Sam. You got a second?” you ask.

He’s in his room working out. He’s using the rafters to do pull-ups, exposing his tanned skin and hardened abs.

“What’s up?”

“There’s a carnival in town that has laser tag. I can get tickets if you want to go with me.”

“Pass,” he grunts out and drops to the ground.

“Come on. It could be fun.”

Sam walks toward you with a smirk on his face that makes you stop talking. He towers over you and uses that intimidation to his advantage.

“Let me be perfectly clear. You’re nothing but a good fuck and that’s it. I don’t want to go on dates with you or ask you how your day is. I’ll come to you when I want you wrapped around my cock. Okay?”

He leaves the room to take a shower while you’re left in his room with a broken heart and a lump in your throat. Tears threaten to fall but you won’t let them. Dean was and is a lot of things, but he’d never treat you this way. Instead of crying like a baby about this, you push down your feelings and pick yourself up like you’ve always done.

The months slowly drag on with you doing the same thing over and over again each and every day. Go on hunts with Sam and Samuel, kill everyone but alphas, go home and fuck Sam, feel bad afterward because of it, go to sleep, and do it all over again. Before you know it, a year has passed and you’re nowhere closer to feeling like how you used to feel.

Dean is still gone and your heart is still aching. Someone with a higher power in the universe must be listening to your pain because it brought Dean to you in a way that isn’t so surprising. He tried to get out of the life but was always listening to radios, reading newspapers, and trying to hook up with hunters to see what was going on. He didn’t want to put Ben and Lisa in danger so he never brought his work home with him until he got attacked by a group of Djinn.

The reunion you’ve been hoping for didn’t go quite according to plan. Dean wasn’t so happy to find out that his brother had been alive for a year.

“You’re kidding me, right? Tell me you’re actually joking,” Dean glares at you and Sam.

“No,” Sam shakes his head.

“We didn’t want to pull you back in. You were out.”

“Pul--All I did was try to look for a way to bring you back. You’re telling me you’ve been kicking for a year now?!”

“You promised you’d leave the cage alone.”

“Fuck that. I didn’t go poking it but that didn’t stop me from trying to figure out how the hell to get my brother back. You’ve been with him this whole time?” Dean asks you.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to destroy your perfect life with Lisa.”

“Come on, don’t do that,” he sighs.

You’re already walking away from him. All the feelings you’ve suppressed for the past year come rushing out and you have to walk away before you do something you regret. Your heart aches for Dean despite the amount of time that has passed since you’ve seen him.

Once the Djinn were taken care of, Dean wanted to stay with you and Sam to continue hunting. He didn’t want to leave Lisa and Ben to fend for themselves so he spent most of his time with you only to return to them on some weekends.

Being with Sam was great when you knew Dean wasn’t going to be a problem but he’s been trying to get back into hunting so he’s around all the time. How can you continue being with Sam when you know he’s not the one you really want? He was a good distraction for what it’s worth but he’s not enough anymore.

Sam doesn’t feel the shift in your energy otherwise he’d go find someone else to fuck. All he sees you is a good lay, and there are plenty of women willing to give themselves up for one night with him. You tried hard to be into it but it’s just not happening. Dean should be back any second from Lisa’s with a packed bag and you don’t want him catching you with his brother.

The same person who brought you and Dean together after all this time must want to start drama because he walks into Samuel’s house expecting to go to bed. Instead, he finds you and Sam on the couch with you in his lap and Sam’s lips on your neck.

“Shit, Dean,” you gasp and move off Sam’s lap so fast.

It doesn’t matter how quick you are because Dean knew what was going to happen if he hadn’t walked in.

“What the hell is going on here? You’re fucking my brother?” Dean asks.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Not anymore,” Sam shrugs.

“Shut up before I smother you with a pillow while you sleep,” you hiss.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Yeah, lucky you.”

“Y/N?” You look into Dean’s eyes and see the raw emotion in them. That causes tears to form in yours but you don’t let them fall. “Have you been sleeping with Sam this whole time?”

“Dude, you left her, like a thousand times. Fair game,” Sam smirks.

You and Dean still have your staring contest because you can’t seem to say anything that would make this better, and he can’t either. Guilt starts to weigh on your shoulders even though you did nothing to be guilty of. He left you. He moved on from you. So, why the hell do you feel like shit?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester angst #sam winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #supernatural smut #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn angst

[orinfucker]

devilish intent

summary: being an adventurer in the lower city was growing quite boring, so why not sneak into the home of the devil himself! surely nothing could go wrong, right?

warnings: darkish content, manipulation, rough sex, throat fucking, threesome (harleep & raphael), degradation, dom!harleep, dom!raphael, biting, blood, overstimulation, begging, dumbification, fem!reader, breath play, dacryphilia, dubious consent, hair pulling, slight praise

note: i dont think there are words to describe how filthy this is. i've been working on this for awhile cus i was trying to find inspo but i'm pretty happy with how this turned out! enjoy <3

this is was a comically bad idea. what led you to make the decision to sneak into a devil’s home? boredom - an emotion that many other people would deem easily avoidable. a normal individual would go to a bar, perhaps take a walk around the city, maybe even find a companion for the night; but not little old you.

you’ve heard whispers around the streets of people sneaking into this so-called ‘house of hope’. at first, you brushed it off as some silly fairytale - there was no way that normal folk could find a way inside a devil’s house. well, that was until you had stumbled into the devil’s fee on a particularly stormy night. you had just stopped there to wait out the weather, allowing your now soaked clothes to dry off in the midst of this peculiar shop.

you found yourself carelessly browsing around the store, observing the various skulls and mementos scattered across tables. “ah, welcome to the devil’s fee!” a feminine voice spoke from behind the wooden counter, drifting your attention from the objects to the woman herself. “oh, um, hello!” you awkwardly replied with a wave of your hand, approaching the owner at the counter. she watched the way you nervously shuffled over towards her, an eerie grin manifesting itself on her face.

“are you looking for anything in particular, dear?” she paused, “or perhaps somewhere in particular?” you looked at the woman with a confused expression, what did she mean by somewhere? with a shake of your head you replied, “oh no, just waiting out the storm!” the woman frowned, but soon she began to smile again. “you look like quite the adventurer; have you ever considered going somewhere more, extravagant?” a sense of intrigue flooded your body before you sheepishly nodded at the strange woman. “where exactly are you talking about?” thunder erupted the moment you finished your sentence, your body twitching from the loud sound.

“why, the house of hope, of course!” she exclaimed with excitement in her voice. “i have the means to get you there without a soul knowing.” it was a convincing offer, you hadn’t had much excitement in months - so why not give it a shot? “i assume you’re not charging for free?” the girl laughed with a shake of her head. “of course not, i’ll take you there for the right price.” she hesitated before continuing, “fifteen thousand gold and i’ll give you the instructions.” you nearly choked on your own spit; fifteen thousand? maybe you were stupid, or just insanely desperate, but before you could think even further you were handing this stranger a pouch of gold.

“a pleasure doing business; here’s the instructions on how to make the portal, just head upstairs and it’ll all be there for you, dear.” her finger pointed to the staircase at the right of the counter as she handed you a small book, a piece of paper and a golden key. “ah, thank you..” she smiled at your pause before replying, “helsik, dear.”

you gave a polite nod before ascending up the stairs, a feeling of anxiety coursing through your veins the closer you got towards the door. you slid the key helsik had given you into the hole, a soft click! signaling that it was unlocked. you breathed in heavily before finally stepping into the room, rows of bookshelves filled the walls as various tables flooded the corners.

your eyes caught sight of a pentagram drawn in blood on the floor, the one you assumed you’d be using to enter this devil’s home. you began to read the list of items you’d need to grab as you aimlessly searched around helsik’s room to find them. after locating the variety of objects, you began to align them on the pentagon in accordance to how it was described.

you noticed how each item lit up into a hue of orange the moment you placed them on the point of the star, almost like they were set on fire. once the final object was placed, you watched as the wooden floor transformed into what you assumed was a portal; a void of black consumed the center as the rest of the star glowed a bright orange.

‘this is such a bad idea.’ you thought while placing the instructions back into your bag, your eyes scanning over the mass of black you’d have to eventually step into. with a nervous sigh, you stepped one foot into the center, and felt your enter body get sucked into the ground. your eyes squeezed shut for just a moment, and before long you felt yourself land onto what you assumed was your destination.

as you slowly opened your eyes, a wave of heat washed over you; beads of sweat beginning to spill from your pores. you finally began to take in your surroundings, a series of pillars pulsing with some sort of magic stood in each corner of the room you’d appeared in, and a massive door placed itself at the front of the room.

you slowly approached the door before lightly pushing it open, revealing what you assumed to be a dining room of some sort. various plates of food were scattered across the table, making your mouth salivate for just a moment. your legs began to move on their own as a sense of clarity washed over your mind - you had never seen a place like this on all of the journeys you’d been on. after walking throughout the halls for a few minutes, you stumbled across a doorway that was blocked by a magic barrier.

a frown appeared on your face, but you quickly noticed a opening that led to the outer parts of this odd place. you approached the ledge with caution before clumsily jumping onto the rocks below, steading yourself before walking amongst the ragged path.

as you began to grow closer to the blocked off room, you noticed a bed was placed against one of the walls. ‘must be the owner’s bedroom.’ you approached the railing fairly quickly, hoisting yourself atop it before quietly dropping to the floor. your eyes quickly caught sight of something— no, someone laying on the bed you had saw earlier.

anxiety rushed through your veins as you started to plan out your next move, maybe they wouldn’t notice if you snuck towards the doorway. with a shaky breath, you began to stealthily walk towards the front of the room. “and where do you think you’re going, little mouse?” your entire body froze in terror, a gasp escaping from your throat. “u—um,” you stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought to reply with.

“aren’t you just a cute little thing.” the voice spoke, their tone bordering on erotic. you finally found the courage to turn and face them, your entire body flushing with pink as you did so. their skin was a deep red, wings splayed across the pillows as horns protruded from their head. the most striking component, however, was the skimpy bondage that brandished their body.

a daring smirk spread across the devil’s face as their eyes seemed to see right through you, eyeing the entirety of your being. “i, um, didn’t know there was someone in here.” you finally spoke, trying to claw your way out of this mess before anything extreme happened. the devil was silent in response, the same expression cast upon their face as your eyes moved between them and the doorway. “i’ll just, um, make my way out of here!” a laugh erupted from the creature before you heard a creak come from the bed, signaling they were moving about.

“oh raphael is going to love this.” they spoke before leaning against the headboard, one of their arms resting behind their head as they peered at you. “come pet, i must know why you’re here.” with a nervous sigh, you walked towards the bed, sitting on the edge carefully before fiddling with the skin on your fingers. you felt their gaze burning into the flesh of your thighs before finally shifting to your face, their tongue coming out to lick the skin of their lips

. “go on, tell me why you’ve come.” you paused, unsure if you should be truthful or not. “i was, uh, bored.” silence filled the room, and for a moment you thought this might be where your end is, until laughter began to echo throughout the room. “oh that’s, that’s quite the reason!” the devil calmed themselves before leaning forwards, one of their hands brushing against the plump of your leg before landing on the sheets besides it.

“this is very naughty - what shall i do with you?” they paused for a moment to think, before a sinister grin clouded their expression. “how about we play a game, hm? if you win, i’ll give you everything you desire.” you looked at the devil, an anxious feeling rising in you. “and if i lose?” they stifled a laugh before trailing one of their hands against the side of your thigh, “well, you’ll enjoy yourself much more if you do.” you looked into their eyes for a moment, getting lost in them as they trailed their hand further and further up your thigh until it brushed against your center.

a whimper caught in your throat, and before long, you whispered a quiet yes, allowing the devil to play whatever game they had mentioned. they smirked before standing up from the bed and walking towards where you sat, towering over your quivering form.

“on your knees, pet.” your entire body felt like it was on fire, lust flowed through your veins as you felt yourself obey every word that left the devil’s lips. as you shifted from your spot on the bed, a hand rested itself on the top of your head, guiding your body to its knees. “such an obedient toy, we’re going to have lots of fun together.” as they reached to pull down the fabric that covered their cock, they paused for a moment before bringing their free hand to cup the underside of your chin, tilting it upwards so you could look in their eyes.

“would you like to know my name, mouse?” you nodded, feeling yourself melt into the devil’s touch. “i am harleep, raphael’s personal incubus.” harleep noticed your head tilt at the mention of raphael, forgetting that you had zero idea of who he was. “raphael is the master of this house, pet. it’s quite impressive you managed to get here without him noticing.” they watched you nod in acknowledgment, unaware of the consequences there would be when raphael did return home.

“such a naïve girl you are.” harleep whispered to themself before finally tugging down the fabric of their underwear, revealing the sight of their hardened cock. your eyes widened at the sight, and you felt yourself grow nervous at the thought of having to take it. harleep guided the tip of their cock to your lips, pushing it past them before finally entering your mouth. “gods - that’s it, take it down your throat.” your eyes glossed over with tears the further harleep’s cock moved down your throat, the incubus letting out low growls as they began to slowly thrust into your mouth.

trails of saliva began to drip from the sides of your mouth as their thrusts became more rough, the tip of their cock brushing against the back of your throat with each move of their hips. all you could do was gag and moan around them as they used your mouth like it was some toy, their hand tangling into your hair to support the weight of your head.

“you take my cock so well, pet. maybe i should- ah, keep you around.” you whimpered around their length, unable to utter a word as they sloppily fucked into you. harleep’s grip in your hand tightened as they started to let out animalistic moans, their head leaning backwards while the speed of their thrusts quickened. within a moment, you felt them push once more into your throat before feeling hot spurts of cum spill from their cock.

warmth filled your mouth as the liquid began to dribble down your throat, burning the flesh of it in the process. “good girl - swallow every drop of it.” you could barely breathe as harleep’s cock stayed pressed against the depths of your throat, forcing you take all of their cum. once they were satisfied, harleep finally removed themself from your mouth, leaving you to cough up wads of spit onto the ground below. they watched in amusement as you wiped the saliva from your lips, a look of disgust in your eyes as you peered up at the incubus.

“is that,” you began to cough once more, your throat aching from the abuse harleep had caused. “is that all you wanted?” before they could respond, you caught sight of their eyes drifting from your own to the front of the room, their expression shifting from lustful to one you couldn’t quite read. confusion washed over you until suddenly, the sounds of heavy footsteps began to approach from the doorway. “ah raphael, welcome home.” harleep finally spoke, and it was at that moment you realized how incredibly fucked you were.

raphael was about to greet the incubus before he finally noticed your disheveled form on the ground, his eyebrow cocking upwards as he looked over at harleep for a brief moment. “harleep, who is this pest on the ground?” the devil glanced back over towards you, eyeing your body before finally putting the pieces together in his head. “it seems they found a way in here, i’m shocked you didn’t notice them here sooner.” raphael hummed before approaching you, your body quivering in fear as the man crouched in front of you. “it seems harleep has already had their fun with you.” he paused for a moment to think, and you thought that maybe he would have some mercy on you and allow you to leave.

“i—i’m so sorry for intruding in your home, mister.” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke, too nervous to allow yourself to speak any louder. “please, please let me leave; i promise to never come back here again.” you were practically begging at this point, your eyes pleading with the devil to have sympathy towards you. raphael looked towards you with a dark smile as you begged, enjoying how desperate you sounded before finally reaching his hand out to cup the side of your cheek. “i can’t just let you off easily, little mouse. you broke into my house uninvited - i think you deserve to punished.”

you shook your head repeatedly at his proposal, trying to yank yourself away from the man’s grip on your face. raphael clicked his tongue at your resistance, an annoyed sigh brushing past his lips before allowing himself to stand up, releasing his hold on you. “how disappointing, i expected you to be more compliant.” as he spoke, you took this an opportunity to attempt an escape, your legs shaking as you tried to make a run towards the door.

seconds went by before you felt the grip of a hand on your arm, a scream erupted from you as your body was thrown face down onto the bed, another hand knotting it’s way into your hair to hold your weight. “looks like we have a brat on our hands.” raphael hissed out, his nails digging into the flesh of your arm. you assumed harleep’s hand was the one in your hair, their grip bordering painful as drool began to leak from you lips from the pressure. “they were such an obedient thing for me.”

your legs thrashed around the sheets as you attempted to free yourself from their grip, yet it proved to be futile as you felt a heavy slap against your rear - causing a whimper to escape from you. raphael leaned across your backside, his lips brushing against your earlobe before whispering into your ear, “unless you want to get hurt, i suggest you stop squirming.” your legs went stiff at his threat, any resistance you once had vanishing from your mind. a satisfied noise left raphael as he placed a kiss against the back of your neck, lifting himself up from your backside.

harleep’s grip released from your head, allowing you turn it to the side to glance at the incubus, their eyes already piercing into your own. raphael’s hand gripped the back of your pants as he harshly pulled them down to your ankles, your clothed cunt now on display for the devil. his hand hand came up to brush against the fabric, rubbing the length of your cunt with his palm. whines slipped past your lips as his ministrations continued, you teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your noises. “aht, don’t hide your voice from us, mouse.” you heard harleep say from besides you, their body now sat next to your own on the silk sheets of the bed.

you hadn’t realized your hips grinding back into raphael until a heavy hand came to grip your waist, stopping your movements completely. a finger slipped past the fabric of your underwear, teasing the lips of your pussy before dipping into your dripping hole for just a moment. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” raphael spoke from behind you, his finger slowly thrusting in and out of your cunt while moans began to leave your mouth. “shut— ngh, up.”

suddenly, you felt raphael grip a handful of your hair, yanking your body until it was flush against his own. “shut that bratty mouth of yours.” a wave of confidence washed over your body while a smirk appeared on your face as you spoke. “make me.” it was silent for a moment until the grip in your hair lessened, the hand now trailing to wrap around the entirety of your throat, the pressure of it cutting off your airflow. one of your hands flew up to grab raphael’s wrist, desperately trying to move his hand away as tears welled up in your eyes from the pressure on your neck.

you caught sight of harleep moving to stand in front of you, one of their hands coming up to caress the sides of your cheek, wiping away the tears that now stained your face. the incubus slowly leaned down and captured your lips in a messy kiss, their teeth digging into your own as blood began to spill from them. your mind felt dizzy from the two sensations - raphael’s hand gripping your throat as harleep’s lips pressed against your mouth; it was all too much for your body to handle. not even a second later, you felt harleep break away from you as raphael’s hand released your neck, a sigh escaping you from the relief.

heavy breaths were all that filled the room as you slowly came back to your senses, your eyes blinking away the tears that were left. you felt raphael’s lips brush against your ear as he leaned forward, his hand still resting against the flesh of your neck. “are you going to behave now?” you quickly nodded your head in response, not daring to disobey the devil after his display just moments ago. his free hand began to trail down your front until it slipped into the fabric of your underwear, his fingers drawing slow circles on your clit. “words, pet.” whimpers left your lips at his ministrations, and you desperately tried to muster up a response. “y—yes, yes!”

a satisfied noise left raphael as his fingers began to quicken, your head falling limp against his shoulder at the sensation. you suddenly felt harleep’s fingers sneak into your underwear as well, teasing your aching hole before finally slipping them into you. moans escaped you repeatedly as the two toyed with your cunt, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you felt harleep’s digits reach the deepest parts of you. “you’re squeezing so nicely around me, mouse.” harleep exclaimed, the thrust of their fingers quickening as they heard you whimper at their words.

“what a filthy girl you are.” raphael groaned from behind you as his free hand began to slide underneath your shirt before finally reaching your breasts, his fingers roughly pinching at your nipple. jolts of pleasure coursed through your body from raphael’s touches, your stomach beginning to ache as your orgasm began to grow closer. “ngh— ‘m, i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, the walls of your cunt pulsing with every move of harleep’s fingers against them. your clit ached at the pace of raphael’s digits against it, your thighs squeezing against the two’s hands from the stimulation.

sweat dripped from your forehead as you felt the cord within you threaten to snap, just one more thrust and you’d be thrown over the edge. but, with no warning, you felt both of the creatures movements pause, their fingers sitting idly against your cunt. you let out an annoyed whine from the loss of movement, your head leaning back to peer at raphael with begging eyes. he looked down at you for a moment before switching his attention to harleep, a smirk growing on his face as he began to speak.

“do you think our pet deserves to cum?” raphael asked the incubus, his fingers beginning to tease your clit while he spoke. harleep thought for a second, staring into your doe eyes before looking back at the devil. “perhaps we should make them beg, hm?” raphael chuckled at their response as the two returned their focus to you.

they both looked at you, seemingly waiting for you to say something. your mind was clouded, not a thought swimming around in the innards of your head. “go on, beg.” you finally heard raphael say, his fingers speeding up the pace at which he toyed with your clit. harleep’s fingers began to move inside you as well, their eyes focused on watching them thrust in and out of your hole.

“pl—please!” you managed to huff out, trying your best to convince the two to let you release. “how cute.” without warning, you felt a slap against your cunt, a shocked whimper echoing off the walls. “but i’m not convinced, try again.” you sucked in a heavy breath, still recovering from the impact on your pussy. “please, please let me c-cum.”

harleep thrusted particularly hard after your words, a choked sob escaping you as their fingers brushed against your soft spot. “you can do better then that, little mouse.” once again, you gathered whatever words you could muster up. “pleasepleaseplease! need to— cum, can’t hold it!” you were practically screaming at this point, the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger as they started to speed up their movements. raphael’s lips brushed against your earlobe, his hot breath making the skin flush with red. “cum for us, pet.”

time seemed to slowed as your release finally washed over you, a series of whines and whimpers flooded the bedroom while your body shook with pleasure. the two devil’s continued to work you through your orgasm, their fingers abusing every part of your cunt. all you could do was allow yourself to be consumed by the feeling, every touch on your skin felt like pure bliss as you calmed from your release, the fingers of the two creatures finally letting up.

raphael left a row of kisses along the side of your neck while harleep consumed your lips in a fiery kiss, their tongue exploring the cavity of your mouth. you moaned into the incubus’s mouth before they moved away, your breath being taken away from the messy kiss.

your body melted into raphael’s as his hands began to caress your sides, allowing you gain back some strength. there were no thoughts left in your mind at this point, all you felt was lust and pleasure coursing through your veins. harleep took one of your hands within their own as they guided your body towards the bed, positioning yourself in their lap while they leaned against the headboard.

raphael watched as the two of you relaxed into one another, your back pressed against harleep’s front as their hands rested on the top of your waist. you could feel harleep’s cock pressed against your back, the organ slowly hardening the more you shifted against the incubus. the bed sunk as raphael crawled over towards you, his hand massaging the flesh of your thigh as he kneeled in front you.

your eyes began to feel heavy as you laid against the incubus, exhaustion washing over your body as your eyelids began to droop. “wake up, pet.” harleep spoke from behind you, their hand wrapping around your front as they trailed it down towards your sensitive cunt. raphael began to slowly open your legs, his tongue coming out to lick his lips at the sight of your pussy.

harleep suddenly took hold of your hips, lifting your body up to hover right above their cock. you could feel the tip brush against your clit, causing a whine to slip from your lips at the feeling. raphael watched as you attempted to squirm away from the incubus’s hold on you, your legs shaking as they practically straddled harleep’s cock.

harleep easily overpowered your movements, their hold on you tightening as they began to lower you onto their dick. you could feel your hole stretching open as you sunk down further, your fingers digging into the sides of harleep’s thighs the deeper they went. “t—too much!” raphael smirked at your words, watching as harleep’s cock was only halfway into you. “you can take it, dear.”

you took a deep breath in before finally feeling harleep’s cock bottom out inside of you, a hearty groan leaving them as their nails dug into the flesh of your waist. “so tight.” they practically growled out as your cunt squeezed against their length. your back was flush against harleep’s chest, ragged breaths leaving you as your body attempted to adjust to the foreign feeling.

harleep slowly started to grind their hips up into you, their cock brushing against your cervix with each move of their body. choked sobs left you as they continued their movements, and you could already feel an orgasm bubbling up inside of you. raphael crawled closer to your body as his hand moved up the length of your thigh before finally landing on your clit, his fingers slowly brushing against the nerve to add another layer of pleasure.

moans flooded from your lips as the two continued their assault on you, your cunt burning as harleep’s cock began to slowly thrust in and out of you. “cum— gonna cum!” you felt raphael’s fingers speed up at your words, his face drawing closer to yours before crashing his lips against your own. you whined into his mouth while his tongue slipped into your own, exploring the insides of it before quickly moving away.

harleep’s lips brushed against your ear before whispering a quiet ‘cum for me’ into it. your entire body shook with pleasure as you came, whimpers leaving you as your cunt spasmed against harleep’s cock. raphael’s fingers slowed and moved away from your swollen clit, a smirk on his face as he admired your current state. harleep, once again, grabbed the length of your torso to lift you off their cock, a hiss escaping you at the feeling.

sweat dripped down your forehead as your eyes connected with raphael's, his brown ones scanning the exhaustion present on your face. "turn around." he commanded, and you immediately obeyed. once you had adjusted yourself, a heavy hand landed on the small of your back before pushing down slightly, signaling for you to arch.

raphael's other hand was busy rubbing to fat of your thigh, watching as your cheek connected with the silk sheets right below harleep's cock. with a snap of his fingers, the remainder of his clothes vanished, leaving his hardened cock to press against his stomach. you could hear the bed creak as he positioned himself behind you, his cock now brushing against the flesh of your cunt.

you sucked in a quick breath as you felt raphael slowly entering you, a moan leaving his lips as your hole clenched around him. your fingers curled into the sheets the deeper he reached, the tip just barely brushing against your cervix before bottoming out. one of harleep's hands came down to soothingly pet your head as you let out a plethora of muffled sobs, your body shaking at the sensation.

raphael pulled away for a moment, his cock almost leaving you completely before thrusting back into you completely, the both of you letting out moans at the feeling. he moved at an almost monstrous pace, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. "s-slow down!" you could hear him laughing at your words, one of his hands now tangling itself into your hair as he pulled your body to press against his chest.

"slow down?" raphael questioned, a hint of mockery in his voice. "you say that, yet your clenching around me so nicely." you could feel his breath against your ear as he spoke, your fingers now digging into the skin of his thigh. harleep watched in amusement at the scene unfolding in front of them, their hand wrapping their cock as they began to slowly pleasure themselves at the sight of you two.

that familiar knot in your stomach began to bubble again as raphael roughly fucked into you, your walls burning as he refused to lessen his pace. he could sense that you were close to cumming at the feeling of your cunt spasming around him, and he took that as a chance to guide his fingers down towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with haste.

"fuck- raphael," you realized far too late that his name had slipped past your lips, yet you felt no shame in doing so. the devil chuckled as his hips pounded against your own, amused at your fucked out state. "so desperate, hm?" a whine was all you replied with, drool dripping from your lips as it pooled on the sheets below you. "you know, ngh- i think i'll keep you, mouse." raphael spoke lowly as he felt his own release approaching.

you whimpered at his words, the thought of having this again made your body shiver with arousal. "oh you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you nodded eagerly, not quite understanding what you just signed up for. "my own little plaything," he paused, his eyes connecting with harleep's for a moment before correcting himself. "our little plaything." just as his words finished, an orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing at the pleasure.

raphael quickened his thrusts at the feeling of your release, growls leaving him as he felt himself grow closer to the edge. just as he was about to pull out, a grin spread across as face before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. "do you want me to fill you up, pet?" you almost came again at his words as you nodded, your cunt clenching in anticipation. "pleasepleaseplease-"

he let out a small chuckle, "such an eager pup." raphael sped up his thrusts once again before finally feeling the knot snap inside of him, a whine brushing past his lips as his seed began to spill into your cunt. mantras of his name left you at the feeling of his cum coating your walls, the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt before. raphael stayed inside of you for a moment, allowing himself to come down from his high before finally slipping out of you.

your body fell limp against him, a feeling of numbness washing over you as you tried to regain some of your senses. raphael waited until your breathing had calmed down to move away, his clothes reappearing the moment he stood from the bed. "harleep, be a dear and get them washed up." the incubus hummed in acknowledgement as they also stood from their spot, beginning to search for a fresh pair of clothes for you to wear.

raphael's eyes drifted from harleep to you, admiring the number he had done on you. "get some rest, pet. i'll be expecting you to be ready for another round once i've finished my work for the day." he leaned forwards to leave a quick kiss on your forehead before turning to leave. "and harleep," you heard him say gaining the other devils attention, "do be gentle on them while i'm gone." your eyes widened, turning towards the creature who let out a chuckle in response.

"no promises, they are truly irresistible."

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael #bg3 harleep #baldurs gate 3 harleep #harleep #raphael x reader #harleep x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

[mystic-writings]

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot angst #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

[getousatoruu]

Itafushi my babies! Hope you enjoy them fics! <3

Teenagers Annoy the Living Hell out of Me by LostLoveLetters (M, 11.4k)

In which Sukuna is a reluctant wingman and regrets his life decisions deeply due to one hopeless brat's exasperating pining. AKA a fic in which Sukuna hates slow burn. And existence itself.

that's the spirit! by akaashism (G, 9.2k)

Toji rolled his eyes. "Just tell him how you feel, I didn't raise a coward." "You didn't raise me," Megumi reminded him. Megumi was being haunted. Not by the ghosts of his past but an actual ghost. The spirit of his deceased father. Megumi gets a wingman and a father in one go.

save your love (for someone like me) by ruledbyv3nus (T, 11.4k)

Even though he knows that he isn’t entitled to every detail in Itadori’s life, it irks him to think there is someone that he knows absolutely nothing about. Especially someone, he realizes with a sinking feeling, that is exactly Itadori’s type. What was it he had said to Todo? Tall, dark hair, kind of badass. In other words, exactly like the tall, dark-haired, intimidating looking man who just walked out of Itadori’s dorm room.

No One Gets it Right on the First (Or Second) Try by j_jabbers (T, 12.4k)

5 times Yuuji and Fushiguro's dates go other than planned, and one time where they finally get it right

moments in between by gratsu (G, 1.3k)

Yuuji’s brain feels like it’s sizzled up and died, but Megumi’s lips are a centimetre away from his own and maybe this isn’t so confusing anymore, because he’s closing his eyes and leaning in too, and— “Wait, are you guys fucking gay?” Sukuna. Fuck, he’d forgotten about him.

Wedding Ring Pop by kookiekawa (G, 8.3k)

To which Megumi comes home with a ring pop on his finger and causes Gojo to become the manchild he is.

built your walls around me by alkhale (M, 15.2k)

“You want to ruin him," Sukuna says. Maybe Sukuna isn’t wrong about that, Fushiguro thinks in a daze. Itadori’s heart is too heavy and too precious. It’s a burden that shouldn’t be given to anyone else. Because even Itadori himself can’t take care of it, can’t hold onto it for the life of him because he’d rather become the vessel to the most wretched of all curses just to help two people he’s only known for a few months—to help Fushiguro, who he’d only met that night. (I can keep it. Fushiguro’s hands move. I can hold onto it, if you want.) Or— Some dreams start to keep Fushiguro up at night, and the cure to stopping them might be closer than he thinks.

help me hold onto you by strawberrysuguru (M, 3.7k)

He aches for that closeness, that touch, but he can’t let himself lean forward and take it. Instead, he presses his thigh closer to Yuuji’s, letting the warmth sink into his skin five times megumi touched yuuji

Your Heartbeat is My Comfort by EpicKiya722 (T, 1.2k)

Seeing Yuuji die before had left Megumi needing to feel his heartbeat to know he's alive. It's how he finds peace.

Epistolary of Shadows and Embers: The Red Rain by lunaseleneartem (M, 17.5k)

Megumi, a sharp-witted detective, wielded intellect as his weapon and compassion as his shield. With his own sense of justice, he knew not the depths of love until he crossed paths with Yuuji, a radiant soul shining amidst the grey shadows of existence. Fate weaved their destinies together, connecting their hearts with a celestial thread of unyielding devotion. CW: This has a sad ending

here and where you are by cityboys (T, 17.2k)

It’s in the middle of scanning the last bottle of green tea that Itadori properly looks up. Eye contact with him is a physical, unexpected shock, a crunch of imaginary static snapping through Megumi and leaving his hands twitching at his sides. "Hey." Itadori blinks, wide and earnest. "Do I know you from somewhere?" The tea sloshes backwards in the bottle he’s holding. Megumi focuses on this until his vision steadies. "No," he says. "I don’t think so." In the aftermath, Itadori loses his memories instead of his life. Megumi grieves nonetheless. CW: This also has a sad ending (yeah yeah I love angst)

In Every Lifetime by kat_likes_writing (G, 53.2k, Ongoing)

Megumi is sent on a mission to retrieve Ryomen Sukuna's finger from a high school, which should have been an easy mission. But with his strange dreams intensifying and becoming more vivid, he has a hard time sleeping. It should be an easy mission. He is just not sure why the boy who found the finger seems so familiar. Ps: Everyday I wait for it to update like how a dog waits for his owner to come home, no warnings just wanted to let you know this fic is one of my top faves

Twitch Streamer Yuuji and Youtuber Megumi by kat_likes_writing (G, 43.7k)

Yuuji is a famous Twitch streamer who does streams from his college dorm. Among his fanbase, his huge crush on a random book reviewer on youtube has become a running joke. The fanbase decides to make it their mission to discover who Yuuji's mystery crush is. Megumi has a very small book reviewing channel on Youtube he started in high school. He doesn't even know what Twitch is, but Nobara keeps insisting he needs to help her find this random Twitch Streamer's secret crush. Her reasoning: the secret crush does youtube and reviews books.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fic recs #itafushi fic #itafushi fic recs #fushiita #fushiita fic recs #fic rec #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #jjk fic recs #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic recs #jjk megumi #jjk yuuji #itafushi #itadori yuji #itadori #megumi #yuuji #yuji itadori #megumi x yuuji #yuuji x megumi #megumi x itadori #itadori x fushiguro #pls enjoy them fics and support the authors bye #<3

[evilbihan]

It's interesting how the game never calls Bi-Han a "traitor". Sure, some of the characters do, but the game itself never refers to him that way.

One of his gear pieces is called "Wayward Son" and that is what he is, someone who strayed from the right path and lost himself in his own ambition. He made one wrong choice, one he regrets, if you listen closely to his intros with some characters, like Shang Tsung or Kitana, and it's ridiculous how certain people try and write him off as an evil turncoat who is lost beyond redemption. Liu Kang will try and (at least partially) succeed at bringing him back to the light. I don't get why people are trying to deny Bi-Han any character development and pin him to that one mistake he made or force the traitor role onto him when that's never who he was to begin with.

Bi-Han is the one getting betrayed, constantly, throughout his life. His father kept secrets from him, his brothers turn their backs on him when all he wanted was for them to be part of the future he envisioned for their clan. Even Frost wants to eclipse him and will undoubtedly betray him at some point. His own allies want to kill him after he helped them escape from captivity. Bi-Han has no one he can trust. He's entirely on his own. That may be his own fault to some extent, but I genuinely can't understand how people can be so blind to his suffering or worse, want to see him suffer even more? He's already bearing the consequences of his actions and it's painful to witness.

To get back to the point I made in the beginning, has anyone else noticed how the invasions mode nodes and encounters also never call Bi-Han a traitor or anything of the likes? I've seen Tanya's nodes and even some of her seasonal skins referencing her betrayal in previous timelines, even if nothing hints at her being a traitor this time around. In Bi-Han's encounters, the game only calls him "Ice Fighter", "Chill Initiate", "Snowfall Brother" or "Matchless Cryomancer", always refering to two things, Bi-Han's skills and his affiliation with the cold. That is who he is and always was. A cold, ruthless fighter. That hasn't changed in the current timeline and it makes no sense how some fans claim he was ruined because he made one bad decision.

When equipping Johnny as the announcer voice, the most negative thing he has to say about Bi-Han is that he's bossy, as opposed to how he speaks of actual villains like Shang Tsung ("Hate this guy" etc.). There are no references to his supposed "betrayal" which is why I believe it's only going to be a small part at the very beginning of his character arc that won't hold much relevance for the future, especially as the story develops more, except to serve as a reason for Kuai Liang and him to be enemies.

The way the game speaks of Bi-Han always sounds bittersweet to me and so do the names of his skins/gear pieces. It's almost like a parent talking to or about a stubborn kid that won't take their advice. One of my favorite examples is the kombat league skin that was added this season named "It's cold outside, Bi-Han". It reminded me of Liu Kang telling Bi-Han to "come in from the cold" and I think it's heart wrenchingly beautiful how even outside of the story mode and intros the tragedy that is Bi-Han's story is being acknowledged by the game through all those small subtle references.

One could argue that I'm reading too much into these details but I think some of you don't do that enough. There's 20+ characters on the main roster, the story would have to be dozens of hours long to give all of them in depth background stories and fully flesh them out so we can empathize with their motives. It's hard to understand Bi-Han's character unless you start looking at these small bits and pieces of lore and unfortunately, not enough people do that.

#bi han #bi han sub zero #mk bi han #bi-han #mk sub zero #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

The family you make

Azriel's week: Day 1

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 1300+

You returned to the House of Wind more mentally than physically exhausted, tears stinging your eyes. You regretted the silly decision the moment you stepped into your parents' house. How could you be so naive to think things would change? After so many years that only proved that your parents wouldn't change. Never.

For them you were the biggest disappointment in their perfect lives. Whatever you did, nothing was enough, nothing was good. Your work in Library and cooperation with High Lord and inner circle? Pointless. Living in the High Lord's palace? Pathetic. Being part of his inner circle? Embarrassing. Suddenly your entire life felt like one big failure and you were drowning in it.

You were so tired and beaten by the life itself, that you weren't able to make it all the way to your room and needed to find some silent place nearby where you could put yourself together, away from prying eyes. You looked around, realising there is small family library right on your left.

Silently you entered and quickly closed the doors behind. You forced legs to take you to the one of the corners hidden behind shelves where nobody would notice you. As you dragged yourself through the room you didn't see anybody in there. The sets of armchairs and sofas were empty as well as the aisles between the shelves. You sighed in relieve. At least Mother had been merciful to you. Sitting down in the dark corner you pulled knees to chest and resting head on your arms you gave free rein to the feelings.

You didn't hear anybody to enter the library, so you startled when a deep voice came from the other side of aisle.

“Are you okay?” You couldn't see a thing because of the tears that wouldn't stop rolling down your cheeks, but you didn't even need to. You knew the voice as well as his owner. It was Azriel, the dangerously looking shadowsinger.

You became part of inner circle just recently and while others had welcomed you with open arms, he kept his distance. You still vividly remembered as he flinched when he first met you as well as his piercing gaze that followed you for the rest of that day. It was quite uncomfortable, making you feel naked in public. Even now you sometimes sensed his eyes being glued to your back causing unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. Only good point was he had never been mean to you, but he wasn't friendly either.

“I'm fine,” you managed to breath out between sobs, still hiding face in sleeves. Azriel huffed.

“If you insist,” was the only thing he said, but you could hear the sound of his boots getting closer to you. You tried to stifle sobs, but he certainly still heard them anyway. Wings rustled as he sat down in front of you. “Something happened when you went to visit your parents earlier?” Surprised, you looked up at him through tears.

“How do you know where I went?” He shrugged shoulders as if to say that the answer is clear. Another wave of tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered all the insults parents told you today.

“Sometimes people we are bond to by blood aren't the best of the family,” he said, his voice much softer than you had ever heard him to use.

“They are the only family I have,” you opposed. A lump rose in your throat as sadness consumed your inside.

“You are wrong,” he simply said.

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He measured you from head to toe with unreadable expression.

“We are your family or at least can be one if you let us.” His hazel eyes with gold flecks wandered around your face, searching for answer on unspoken question. You were too tired and felt so bad, you really didn't get what he was telling you at first. You shook your head in frustration. Corners of his perfect mouth lifted up in hardly-there smirk.

“Rhys and Cassian already consider you their little sister. Mor and Feyre like you, too. I'd dare to say even Amren kind of likes you in her own way.”

Any other day these words would make you happy, but today wasn't that day. For some reason it hurt you even more. His words were like salt to your widely open wound and you broke down. Azriel made a restless noise and his wings rustled while shadows whirled around you, caressing your back and arms. He hesitantly reached out and his big warm hand landed on your head, gently patting it.

“They really do?” you sobbed.

”Yeah.”

“And what about you?” He stiffened. “You don't want me around you and your family.” You felt bad for what you said as soon as the words left your mouth. It was a blow below the belt, especially when he was trying so hard to be nice.

He thought about it for a second, silence stretching between you. "I like you too," he muttered reluctantly at last, his voice slightly shook on word 'like'.

"Liar," you laughed through tear, but there wasn't any joy in it.

"I'm honest. You are my family," Azriel stated, his voice flat of any emotions. "Maybe I can't show it as easily as others, but I do think so. Really." His eyes seemed to be earnest, but his body was sending the opposite signals. You just nodded, blush spreading on your face. Even though it was confusing, something in his statement put on a spark in your chest and you felt a bit better.

"Thank you," you muttered. One corner of his mouth lifted up forming a lovely dimple in his cheek, his hand slipped down to your shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly.

"Anytime," he mumbled. "I'm here for you." He watched you for a while with lips pressed into a tiny line. "Should I leave you alone?" he asked hesitantly.

You shook head. "I mean if you don't mind, but you probably have some work to do." You wanted to add that he always seemed to be busy, but you didn't. Azriel just nodded in answer.

And so you sat there in quite comfortable silence. Your sobs gradually calmed down, but he continued to rub your arm in soothing circles.

Suddenly doors opened and you could hear heavy steps. "Y/N, you in there?" Cassian called into the room. Azriel looked into your wide eyes and nodded once in understanding. Then he swiftly stood up and peeked from the aisle.

"She isn't here," he answered seemingly bored. "Do you need something from her?"

Although you couldn't see Cassian, you could imagine how his brows furrowed now.

"Not really. Y/N went to her parents, but she should be already back. She's always depressed after that, so I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

"I see," Azriel said without interest. "Did you try her room?"

"Yeah, I did, but she isn't there. Books are quite her comfort, so I thought she might be in here. Never mind. I'm going to ask Clotho if she has seen her." And with that Cassian left.

Azriel waited few moments before he returned to you. "You okay?" he asked sitting back down.

"Thanks," you nodded. Once Rhysand told you that even though it didn't look like that, when it comes to family, Azriel is very caring and protective type. Now you wondered if this was also his way of taking care of family. As you were thinking about it, something warm raised in your chest.

You wiped your tears on the sleeve. "I guess I should go clean myself. Cassian is already worried enough. He doesn't need to see me like this."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Azriel cocked head to the side, watching you carefully.

"I feel much better thanks to you. I'm really grateful," you gave him small smile.

Shadowsinger just nodded, helping you stand up. Then he stepped aside, so you could pass him.

Before you turned the corner you looked back at him once again, but he was already searching the shelves with books. "Thank you," you whispered and left.

#azriel fanfic #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azrielappreciationweek2023

[midnight-moth]

May we get some angst of Dew then being comforted by the other ghouls, maybe a ghoul cuddle pile?

Oh yes. Because Dew has been feeling a whole lot of angst on this tour! Read below the cut. Thanks for the prompt anon 💖

It happened at the first ritual. And then it happened again. And again. And again. The wireless transmitter failed, the sound cut out completely, his pedal board decided it just wasn’t going to work. And then it decided that a few more times.

Dew would stomp in agitation, flip off his equipment, beckon the techs with impatient gestures. Aside from the actual malfunction, the crowd thought that Dew’s reaction was all part of the spectacle. And maybe it was, at first.

But when the number of rituals were moving into the double digits, his rage became very real. It was the first thing he felt when everything went wrong. And when he blamed himself for it.

Some of it had absolutely nothing to do with him. The cannons firing early, the lights shutting off, the curtain getting stuck as the crew tried to yank it from where it had attached itself to a rafter. It nonetheless added to his unease. The feeling that everything was about to go wrong.

Tonight seemed better. So far so good. Until he planted his boot on the pedal board and all of the sound coming from his guitar cut out. He frantically stepped on different pedals, but heard nothing coming from his monitor.

This had been maybe the 4th time this specific issue had happened. With the spotlights shining on him, because he should’ve been playing a solo, he was instead standing there motioning for techs that weren’t there.

Blinded by rage at this point, he stomped, and not in a Im so human and weak way. In a I am forged from fire and demon blood way, and managed to crush the metal frame of the phaser pedal under the heel of his boot, cracking the also metal frame of the board right in half.

Thank Satan for the new masks. No one could see his eyes. His tears soaked into the fabric of the balaclava covering his mouth. He wasn’t sad. He was angry. And when he got angry enough, he cried. And it made him feel like a kit having a temper tantrum.

Dew would say he just wanted to put on a good show, that he shouldn’t be making mistakes this late in the game, and that he too responsibility for all of his equipment. Even if he didn’t set it up.

Others would say Dew was a perfectionist. That the smallest mistake would send him spiraling. Sometimes for days. That he would mutter under his breath about it and beat himself up about it and run it over in his mind in an obsessive cycle trying to pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong so that it would never happen again.

“We all make mistakes Dew.”

“We can’t control everything Dew.”

“Stop beating yourself up Dew.”

You’re making a big deal out of nothing Dew.”

“We get that you’re pissed but don’t take it out on us Dew.”

They didn’t understand how deeply affected he was, that each and every equipment failure, set up issue, or stroke of bad luck stick to the next, until it was a massive weight on his back that practically made him stoop when he walked.

When he walked off the stage that night, rather when he stormed off it, stalking off to the showers, taking his rage out on his own skin as he scrubbed himself raw. He didn’t bother drying his hair, no matter how tangled it would be later. He sat alone in a plastic chair at the rear of the venue in between the floodlights affixed to the wall.

When they were all finally ready to move, filtering out the back door in search of Dew they almost missed him in that patch of darkness until they noticed the Cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dark.

“Hey Dew, time to go.”

Swiss employed his softest, least obnoxious semi sing-song voice, however Dew still practically sneered at him as he fell in line.

He was the last to get on the bus. By then everyone felt the rage radiating off of him. Each trying to make individual decisions about how they’d deal with it. Unanimously, they all wanted to just leave him be. Until the boil lowered to a simmer. At these stage surely anything they said to him would just infuriate him further.

As Dew traversed the tall steps, his toe caught on the lip of very last step, his hands were full so there was nothing to prevent him from slamming his face into the wall that enclosed the drivers seat.

When his head stopped spinning he looked to see everyone had come to a halt, staring at him with what appeared to be a combination of concern and fear. He felt something warm dripping down his face, his olfactory organs immediately recognized it as blood, as did his eyes when he realized it was dripping on the light grey carpet.

No one could see the countdown that had been set, but they knew he was about to explode.

“Dew, can I help you? I’ll take your bags and” - Mountain extended his hand, slowly, as if Dew would bite his fingers off. And he might.

Dew dropped his duffle and back pack on the floor and wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a bloody smear across his face. He looked up at Mountain with a somewhat neutral expression that said time was almost up. They all froze, waiting to see if the bus was about to be engulfed in flames. Not this time, he sunk cross legged to the floor and let out one of the most wretched cries they’ve ever heard.

“Oh Dew, come here. Don’t sit on the dirty floor.” Mountain crouched in front of him, using his on sleeve to staunch the flow of blood dripping onto Dew ‘s lap.

“Can you walk, can you stand?”

Dew just shook his head. No yelling, no screaming, just tears and blood. Mountain scooped him up and brought him to the back of the bus, depositing them both on the couch.

“You wanna talk about it, firebug?”

Dew shook his head, he just kept his eyes downcast, rubbing at the blood that was drying down on his hand. Dew was beyond anger, completely defeated., absolutely done. They all knew it.

Swiss searched in vain for ice, remembering there was no freezer in the tiny tour bus fridge. The best he could do was a cold bottle of beer wrapped in a t-shirt.

Rain located the first aid kit affixed to the wall in the bathroom. An infection on top of everything else wasn’t what they needed. Especially since the cut on the bridge of his nose happened to lay exactly where his mask would hit.

Rain dabbed at the cut with a swab soaked in alcohol. The scent made Dew’s nose scrunch up, between that and the burn, and the embarrassment of it all, Rain was dabbing at tears as well as the slice on his skin.

Swiss handed over the bottle, knowing that Dew preferred the calming energy of Rain and Mount when he was broken down this far.

Instead he hung back with the new guy and texted Cirrus, on the other bus with the Cirrus and Aurora. They had nothing helpful to offer. No ice and no advice. So he sunk back on the sofa and waited for some cue that told him he could be useful in this situation. The quintessence ghoul knew he could help, but he’d rather wait until he was asked rather than be intrusive.

The bus lurched forward, making it onto the highway shortly thereafter. Dew hadn’t spoken a word yet. He occasionally squeaked at the shifting of the fabric across the cut as Rain held the cold bottle to his face.

“I broke my pedal.”

“Oh, Dew, it doesn’t matter. It’s all replaceable. Unlike you. You’re the one we need to be okay.” Dew dropped his shoulders, abandoning the rigid posture he’d maintained since they sat down, giving in to the comfort that Mountain’s wide shoulders and long arms offered.

Rain pulled the beer out of the shirt and offered it to Dew but he shook his head. “You want tea instead?” Dew looked back at Rain as if he felt guilty saying yes. Rain kissed his forehead and stood to go make him one.

“I don’t know why you’re all being so nice to me. It was my fault.”

“You know that’s not true.” A gentle chiding sometimes helped snap him out of his cycle of self blame. Emphasis on gentle. Mountain continued, his deep voice as soft as he could manage.

“Maybe you did break the board. But the rest wasn’t your fault at all. I know you want to take it upon yourself to make sure everything is perfect. But this is a giant machine with many moving parts. A lot of them operated by humans. And we’re just getting started. It’ll get better Firebug, I know it will.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dew muttered, taking the scalding mug of tea that Rain held out to him. In fact, Rain had to carry it with a kitchen towel, but that’s how Dew liked it. Even if it was like drinking hot lava.

Rain sat behind Dew, gently working through the knots in his half-dry hair. “It happens to me too, I almost kicked a stage light right off the podium.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Okay, maybe not. But we’ve all had issues. C’s keyboard not making a sound when she walked out for her solo, standing there at center stage. The crowd staring at him her. Remember how upset she was?”

“Yeah, I remember. But still. She didn’t stomp on her keytar when it happened.”

Rain brushed his fingers against Dew’s scalp, watching his head lull backwards. “I know. Yes, you did that. Yes, your temper gets the best of you. But you have a lot at stake. We all know it. You’re just gonna have to forgive yourself.”

“No, I don’t and you can’t make me.”

Rain gave his hair a playful tug. “Oh? I think I can.”

Mountain saw the half smile hidden behind the now empty mug. He pried it out of Dew’s hands, handing it behind him to Swiss who he knew was probably dying inside from feeling useless.

Dew leaned back, yawning once, and then over and over. “Someone’s sleepy.” Mountain stood again with Dew in his arms. “Time for bed?”

“Don’t infantilize me. I’m a super scary fire demon and shit.”

“Yes, babygirl. But how can you burn as all to a crisp if you’re tired?”

Dew replied with a hiss. “Your bed.”

Mountain nodded. His was the biggest. He was thrilled when their manager told them they had enough funds to make small modifications to tour bus.

“And?”

“Yeah, all of you.” Dew grunted.

“I knew it you softy.” Swiss kissed his cheek before launching himself on the bed.

“I get the middle!” Dew called out.

“Of course. We already know that, Princess.” Rain slid across the wide mattress next to Swiss.

“Not a princess.” Dew muttered as he pressed himself up against Rain’s chest. Two ghouls left. Phantom stood there looking apprehensive.

“Go on, he won’t bite you, unless you ask.”

He crawled in, sculpting himself to the shape of Dew’s body while maintaining an inch wide gap between them. Dew reached behind and grabbed his arm to yank him closer. “That’s not how this works.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sounded slightly terrified which made Dew giggle. His reputation must’ve made it down to the pit. Even though it was mostly untrue.

Mountain crawled in next, pushing the quintessence ghoul’s body the rest of the way. He usually took the edge, because his large body was like a dam keeping the rest of them from spilling on to the floor in the night.

Dew always tried to hold it back, reputation to maintain and what not, but his purr always started up first and despite his size, it was definitely the loudest.

“Feeling better, princess?”

Dew slapped Swiss with his tail. “Not a princess.”

Probably the biggest lie Dew told about himself that night. He absolutely was and he knew it.

The next morning Cumulus skipped over to the bus to see how he was. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt unless I touch it.”

“Well, I thought it might. But I made this for you.”

It was a sort of headband looking thing. Only it was thinner. Aside from one piece that seemed to be 3 layers thick. Knitted from buttery soft black yarn.

“Thanks - uh - what is it?”

She slipped it over his head, letting the padded part rest on the bridge of his nose. “It’s so your helmet doesn’t dig into it.”

Dew’s eyes shone in the morning light, but Cumulus just gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away. She wouldn’t tell anyone that a little piece of knitting made him cry.

#nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #Swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #phantom ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #fluff #Dew is angy #midnight moth answers #midnight moth asks #midnight moth writes #cw injury #cw blood #cw hurt comfort

[genderlessghoul]

Thinking thoughts of transmasc Phantom's first experience with trans tape and it goes horribly wrong. Luckily, a certain fire ghoul finds him in his time of distress.

IT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO GET THIS LONG WOAH.

Anyway, t4t Phantom and Dew fluff below the cut, with mention of trans Rain (everyone's trans, heck yeah) nothing sexual but they do be naked. Nothing graphic but Phantom do be getting scars in the long run.

This entire thing was a stupid idea. The idea of not having to wear an extra article of clothes to hide his chest had been very appealing, so was the thought of not having to reposition himself in a binder all day. He also had liked the prospect of getting to wear his binding equipment for a few days. But now it all seems like the worst decision he's made possibly ever.

He's on his second day with the tape on. It was fine the day before. It started being uncomfy during the evening but it didn't really bother him until that morning. He pulled through the entire day and every second he could feel the adhesive pull on his skin in the most uncomfortable way possible.

The decision was made right after dinner to take it off. His skin needed to breathe. The pull was painful when he entered the bathroom and now, 20 minutes later, it's unbearable. He needs the tape off yesterday. But he only got one tiny piece off and it felt like he was skinning himself alive. And he's supposed to do that for what, 7 more strips? He might just keep them on for the rest of his life, it's less painful than removing them.

He conciders it but he can't. He can't bare the feeling of anything touching his skin anymore. He tries to go back to removing the strips but it hurts too much, he's just making pathetic pained sounds while he pulls slowly, millimeter after millimeter. He's vaguely aware that his cheeks are wet but he doesn't know when he started crying.

Before long, he's on his knees on the cold bathroom floor, crying softly out of pain and frustration. Holding his head in his hands because he can't bare to remove the tape but he can't bare not to do it.

"What the fuck?"

Phantom about jumps out of his skin when he hears the voice. He turns around to find Dewdrop standing in the doorway. More like leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. The quintessence ghoul didn't close the door but he didn't think he'd have to, as the only way in is through his own bedroom.

"You scared the living shit out of me, what the fuck are you doing in my room?" he's trying to hide the obvious shake in his voice with a dry tone, scrambling to dry his face with his sweaty palms. The last thing he needs right now is for Dew to make fun of him.

"We share a wall, dumbass, I could hear your whining. Decided I'd come check out the situation for myself. Now what do we have here?"

The fire ghoul walks up to the other and offers a hand to pick him off the floor. Once on his feet, Dew grabs Phantom by his shoulders to gently coax him into turning to the right, then to the left, taking the time to examine the pieces of athletic tape glued to his side. Phantom knows he looks ridiculous. The tape is that wanna-be flesh tone colour that doesn't look real on any human, much less on a ghoul with such dark grey skin and such bright white patches. The job is uneven, he couldn't get both sides to matches. The tape is full of ugly wrinkles that make his skin itch. Truly a poor sight to witness.

"Tried tape for the first time? Not too bad I guess... There's a whole lotta wrinkles in it though, it's not gonna be a fun time removing it."

Phantom's eyes glue to the floor at that last part and the fire ghoul catches onto it. A concerned and puzzled look paints itself on his face as he turns the younger ghoul around one more time. There in his back, he can see a bright red spot right in the middle of one of the quintessence ghoul's white patches, directly next to the tape.

"You absolute idiot. Are... Are you trying to remove it raw?"

"I figured it was like a bandaid, I could just peal it off... Obviously not." he speaks softly. Dew turns him around one last time and grabs his face to force him to make eye contact.

"Why in all seven circles of Hell would you not ask me about it? Or Rain? You can't just peal it off, you're gonna take your entire back, sides and tits out with it!"

"I don't know, I just didn't think there was anything more to it."

The fire ghoul lets him go with a sigh.

"Okay just... Just stay there, don't touch anything. I'll be back in a couple minutes, okay?"

"Yeah okay."

Dew leaves and Phantom thinks he might start to cry again. The whole pack would know in a matter of seconds, they'd surely laugh at him in the morning for his pathetic attempt. He stares at the singular piece of tape sitting on his bathroom counter, the only one he managed to remove. He should have asked Dew about it, about the entire process really, but he was so scared of being made fun of for needing help with a task that sounded so simple.

The fire ghoul returns soon enough, he's armed with a bottle of some liquid and one of his own towel. There's a couple other things in a pouch that he sets on the counter top.

"Get in the shower, we're gonna oil you up like a rotisserie chicken."

"What?"

Dew rolls his eyes. "This is baby oil, it helps break down the adhesive in the tape. I don't wanna make a mess of your bathroom floor so get in the shower!"

"They make oil out of babies???"

Phantom looks completely horrified and Dew's thoroughly unamused. "It's made for babies, dipshit."

"... Oh."

He strips out of his pajama pants and boxers and slips into the shower. The fire ghoul follows suit after removing his own clothes. He jumps straight into his task, uncapping the bottle and lining the lip with the top of Phantom's tape, letting the oil soak through the offending material. He glides the bottle slowly over the entire lenght of one side of the quintessence ghoul's body, then repeats on the other side. Dew restarts the process a few times, each time lower on the tape, until every part of it looks soaked.

"I'm gonna work the oil into the tape, just to make sure it's completely soaked throught. Let me know if any spot hurts in particular, okay? You probably have a fair amount of blisters and raw skin under there, I don't wanna hurt you more than I have to."

Phantom nods and Dew discards the bottle on the shower floor. He starts gently massaging the tape, starting in the back and moving slowly towards the front. He sees the way Phantom winces when his fingers press into the very back on the strips and tries to soften his motions.

"You shouldn't stretch the tape so much in the back. The first and last inch of a strip serve kind of as anchor points, don't stretch them or you're not gonna have a fun time." Dew offers his quintessence ghoul some advice as he works.

"Huh uh" Phantom elects to rest his head on the other's shoulder, inhaling his scent to distract from the accidental self-inflicted pain. He smells like wood smoke and fresh cinnamon rolls, a lot sweeter than usual. Dew's fingers work over a few wrinkles.

"Put the tape on as flat as possible. Wrinkles will cause blisters. They can get really big and leave stupid ugly scars. They're also generally just painful so don't do that shit on purpose."

"Huh uh" Phantom knows there's no magic coming from the fire ghoul, nut he still feels like his touch makes his skin feel better.

Once he's done massaging all over the tape, Dew elects to run his fingers over Phantom's shoulder blades in a soothing motion for a while. The younger ghoul's head is still resting on his shoulder, his breath slowly stabilizing now that there's no immediate pain inflicted on him.

"When you want to remove it, you have to make sure you completely soak it in oil for a little while before. Any oil works, really, I just liked baby oil the best back then. Mount would scold me over using anything from the kitchen since you need a pretty obscene amount."

Phantom lets out a small hum as a reply and his hands move absentmindedly to Dew's own sides, his thumbs resting at the base of his scars. If getting himself in a stupid predicament is all it takes to get the fire ghoul's soft and caring side, he should do stupid things more often.

They stay like that for a little while longer before Dew's hands make their way back to the tape. "Let's try this again now, shall we?"

Phantom apprehends the pain when fingers lift the corner of a strip, but it never comes. It's removed slowly, without any real struggle. The other ghoul lets it fall at the bottom of the shower with a wet thump.

"See?" he says in a soothing voice. "It's a whole lot better when you do it right."

The fire ghoul whispers soft praises into his ear as he continues the job, slowly, piece by piece, until they're all sitting next to their fallen comrade on the shower floor.

Dew places a small kiss to the top of Phantom's head before detaching him from his sides. He discards the strips of tape to a corner with his foot and turns on the water, setting it to a comforting warmth.

"Now we just gotta un-rotisserie chicken you. Don't wanna get your sheets all oily."

"It's gonna hurt like a bitch if you scrub."

"Not gonna scrub I promise. Been there done that, never again."

He doesn't give Phantom a chance to argue before he's picking up the bottle of coconut scented body wash, squirting some into his hands and lathering it. He repeats his task of slowly working over the previously taped area on the quintessence ghoul's body. He's working as gently as he can but he still sees the way Phantom clenches his teeth whenever he reaches a blister or a spot of particularly sore skin.

Dew makes sure the ghoul in front of him is completely cleaned of any oil before he works the few spots where he got some on himself. The water is closed and he takes the other's hand to guide him out of the shower. Dew wraps him towel over his hips before grabbing another one and patting Phantom dry, still as careful over his sensitive spots.

The quintessence ghoul catches a glimpse of himself in the shower and only then does he realise how badly he messed up. Any white area of his skin that was covered by the tape is now red and inflamed, the darker parts no doubt just a bad even if he can't see it. There's blisters all over his sides and back, of varrying sizes but all with a disturbing yellowish undertone. The front of his body was miraculously spared that treatment.

"It's not as bad as it looks, I promise." Dew tries some reassuring words while he rummages through the pouch he brought. He takes out a small jar and a roll of gaze.

"You should've seen Rain's first try, I was patching up holes in his back for like months. He wasn't as lucky as you, I only found him after he ripped off all the tape by himself."

"Wait really?"

"Yeah that's why he has those dark spots there. He tells everyone they're really big freckles but... Don't tell him I told you."

Dew takes off the lid of his small jar. There's so sort of jelly-looking substance inside. He silently coaxes Phantom into lifting his arms up so he can apply a fair amount over his wounds and sore skin, wrapping his entire chest with gaze once he's done.

"There. That should help everything heal faster."

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't mention it. I wasn't about to let you skin yourself alive. Now you know how to not do things next time."

"I'm really not concinced I want there to be a next time."

"Hey," he takes Phantom face in his hands once more "we've all been there. Binding correctly, especially with tape like that, it's a learning curve. Especially if you have no one to teach you. Or if you decide that you don't need to be taught. Just ask us for help next time, okay?"

"Yeah, okay..."

Dew places a soft kiss on the quintessence ghoul's lips before letting go of his face. "Come on, I'm getting hella tired."

He grabs Phantom by the hand and all but drags him to his bed. The fire ghoul lays on his back and encourages the other to lie on top of him, on his stomach so that he's not squashing any blister.

Phantom's head comes to rest on Dew's chest, hearing the consistent beat of his heart. Warm arms wrap themselves around his middle and start rubbing at his lower back.

"Sorry I ruined your evening. You probably plans that didn't involve having to rescue me from tape, of all things."

"Don't worry about it, baby boy." he plants another kiss in his hair and Phantom kicks up a purr at the pet name.

"I'm just glad I didn't catch you with fucking duct tape or some shit."

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghost #ghost ficlet #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #ficlet #meerkat writes #everyone's trans because I said so