#they refer to each other is such a like.. distancing manner at first.

[ruporas]

pet names

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash overhears a conversation from a nearby table at the restaurant they're seated at, the unnamed character saying, "Honey, can you pass me that?" Their partner says, "Sure thing, angel." The unnamed character begins again, "Say, did you hear the news from earlier?" In response, "Haven't got the chance. Tell me about it?" Vash smiles fondly, listening in as the conversation continues, "You'd never guess, babe! The runner--" Abruptly, the conversation is cut in by a "Needle nogging", Vash's expression changing instantly and no longer smiling. The panel cuts to Wolfwood who smiles lop-sidedly, pointing at Vash's plate and says, "If you're not going to eat that. I'll take it." Vash grabs the plate and holds it away and says, "Mine" while Wolfwood clicks his tongue. He pauses for a moment before asking slowly, "Hey, is there any reason you don't use cute names with me?" Wolfwood lifts a cup of water up to his lips, looking confused. He says, "I do though." Vash cuts in, "Spikey and needle nogging aren't cute!"

Vash continues with a shy expression, "Since we're together now..." he trails off and Wolfwood picks up, taking a sip of water as he says thoughtfully, "Together, huh..." Vash pauses in his sentence with a look of confusion before reaffirming, "We are together, right?" Wolfwood nods, "Right." Vash says, "Right", before continuing, his shy expression returning, "Then you can use stuff like... honey or-" Wolfwood cuts in this time and says casually, "You're not a honey though." A panel cuts of Vash's expression changing again, shocked. He asks, "Huh? Then who is?" Wolfwood says immediately, "Milly." Vash exclaims, "Milly?!" Wolfwood continues, "She's sweet, just like honey." A bubble pops up of Milly smiling as Wolfwood speaks. Vash continues, "Okay, true... What about sweetpea?" Wolfwood responds, "Kids. Kids are sweetpea. And pumpkin too." Vash continues, "Okay... What about baby?" Wolfwood says without hesitation, "Meryl." Vash exclaims again, "Meryl?!" Wolfwood explains," Noisy, like a baby." Vash mutters, "Hey, that's a bit mean..."

Vash continues persistently, "Then what about babe?" Wolfwood shrugs with a grin, "You are not a babe." Vash looks at him, slightly frustrated before exclaiming with flushed cheeks, "Then what am I?!" Wolfwood points at his hair and smiles softly, "I told you. You're the one and only needle nogging." A panel closes in on Vash's widen eyes, cheeks still red, pausing before he ultimately resigns, planting his face into the palms of his hands and muttering, "I give up..." At the same time, Wolfwood sneaks and grabs the plate of food that Vash left unattended, saying in response, "You get up cuaght up about the dumbest things, y'know that?"

The comic then picks up again to a jump in time, after they've left the restaurant. Wolfwood muses to Vash, "You said all that about the names earlier, but I don't hear ya using them for me." Vash looks to him excitably and asks, "Did you want me to?" Wolfwood looks at him with an uncertain expression, "Not really, but I guess I am curious..." Vash beams, "Then let's try some, okay... dear?" He fingerguns Wolfwood with a grin, little hearts surrounding him. Wolfwood just looks at him neutrally and says, "Okay," while thinking to himself, "Cute..." Vash exclaims, "So unenthusiastic!"

The next comic picks up at a different time, but on the same theme of pet names. Vash hugs Wolfwood and says to him, "Thank you, my love." A panel close up of Vash steadily opening his eyes before he sees Wolfwood's reaction up close, his eyes glancing away, cheeks flushed, and the smoke out of his cig forming soft hearts as he mutters, "Sure..." In a smaller, cartoonish style, Vash has a comedically exaggerated expression of shock and widened eyes as he grips Wolfwood by the shoulders while Wolfwood still wears a shy expression. He then nudges his head to the side of Wolfwood's with a close eyed happy smile, hugging him close and says, "So, there WAS one you liked!" Wolfwood, still looking away, but now with an irritated and embarrassed expression, grumbles, "Shut up..."

The final image is a short sequence. Wolfwood is working on something, spacing out as he does, while Vash from off screen calls for him, starting with "Babeeee? Babe? Beautiful? Honey? My love?" All of which gets no reaction from Wolfwood. Vash pauses for a moment before piping up again, "wolfwood?" Wolfwood turns around, finally noticing that Vash was calling for him and asks, "What?" A box at the bottom of the page says, "Unresponsive to anything other than his names." END ID]

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #ULTIMATELY the most convenient is to stick to needle noggin and wolfwood because it just makes the most sense to them. i also think the way #they refer to each other is such a like.. distancing manner at first. #because i think wolfwood DID call vash by his name at first right?? i mean it was spiraling from vash the stampede to vash and then to #spikey in that one town near the beginning of maximum #i dont know how to word it but the fact they call each other these particular monikers that dont get regularly echoed by others #IN PARTICULARLY needle noggin being SO specific to vash from wolfwood really pushes in the special place wolfwood has in vash's life. #wolfwood doesnt get the name wolfwood used for him often too. hes been called priest chapel nicholas nico.... #but vash uses wolfwood out of all of them. kills me every time #its just like the safest name for him. the thing about wolfwood is that it still is universally used for him too. he introduces himself as #nicholas d wolfwood to others as seen from when he first met vash.... regular citizens or kids mightv called him mr wolfwood and stuff... #so it kind of settles itself as a name for the mundane for safety for comfort. #but then they call each other by their first names in vol 10 and i . shatter sfx. needle noggin and wolfwood are so Precious to them for #each other but they're capable of using each other's first names too in such a gentle manner. i mean when vash used nicholas #it was in comforting gesture too. nicholas is who melanie and the kids know and that nicholas is still very much there even pass #the bloodshed. and when ww uses vash so his family knows of vash and his identity and the safety the name vash reflects...

[grimm-writings]

Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her.  Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him.  Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do.  Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age.  She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing.  You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something!  Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her.  She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting.  It’s actually slightly frustrating.  Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back.  He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately.  Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first.  You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her.  It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once.  She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself.  You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck.  Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too.  He’s taller than other half-foots after all.  Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright.  At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit.  You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to.  You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi.  He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit. 

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way.  Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you.  If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her.  Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again.  Not too much, though.  He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you.  It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain.  You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets.  He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily.  Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus!  I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence.  She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way.  Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

#✮ grimm's fics! #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #izutsumi #falin touden

[spamgyu]

urs // Mingyu Series - Part 1

"the best at being the worst... but fuck sake I'm already yours"

DESCRIPTION: she and mingyu were in no place to be in a relationship. she was his best friend's stylist and he was... well he was kim mingyu; something stable was not something that was ideal for the two – not when their careers are both at it's peak. PAIRING: idol!mingyu x stylist!reader GENRE: angst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, implied smut, stubborn protagonists, so many red flags you would think this is a football game, features the love of mingyu's life (jungkook) and all his other besties

NOTE: if you read INFRUNAMI, no you didn't. this has the same-ish vibes BUT this is the re-written version. many events, actions, and overall plot has been changed. (even if the intro/first part is very similar)

"How was LA?" Mingyu asked, rolling off her bed; reaching to put on the black sweatpants he carelessly discarded earler. It was nearly a month and a half since he had last seen her, been with her, and he was desperate to feel her touch.

He allowed her to greet him with a quick hi before he scooped her off the ground and carried her over to her bed; doing what they knew best.

"Eh." She shrugged, also gathering her items off the floor – dressing herself as if she hadn't just allowed him to ravish her body like an animal that hand't been fed for days. "It's not as hectic since I only have one of them to work with."

She was referring to their mutual friend - the God sent human being that introduced the two. Not that his intention was for his group's stylist to have this arrangement with his best friend, no - he was simply being polite.

It was in good manners to introduce two strangers to one another, especially in a setting that required socializing. Y/n did her best to maintain a professional distance between her and Mingyu; she was just a stylist after all.

Of course, she was only successful for about 6 months and once again it was all thanks to his best friend.

Having to spend nearly every waking moment with the seven boys; y/n couldn't help but develop a friendship with them. Sooner or later she found herself being invited to more parties, dinners, and casual hang outs where Mingyu seemed to always be in attendance.

Somehow, the brooding tall boy of one of the famous boy groups that was slowly making it's way to the top of the charts, had charmed his way in to her pants. She wasn't complaining, of course.

The sex was good. Amazing even.

She was just a girl with needs.

Needs which just happened to have been met by someone who should have remained untouchable. Not just for the sake of their friend group but her job.

There wasn't a clause in her contract that forbid this, some staff members in their very large company having their fair share of flings and relations with idols that seemingly played off being single to the public. It was more of her own choice, not wanting to do anything to jeopordize the once in a lifetime chance she had managed to land herself as BTS' stylist.

Through her title of four years, she had managed to not only secure a well paying job but opportunities throughout the fashion industry – slowly making a name for herself.

Y/n wasn't just a nameless stranger credited at the end of albums, along with other staff members. Those late nights steaming garments, prepping for shoots, and 15 hour work days were finally paying off.

"That's good." Mingyu hummed, taking a seat on her bed - leaning back as he watched her go straight to her suitcase.

Unpacking as if nothing had happened.

The two have gotten very accustomed to their arrangement; having it been nearly a year and a half since they made the agreement of being friends... with a heck of a benefit.

But of course, there were set rules to their agreement.

Despite wanting to keep their actions as completely physical, she and Mingyu cared deeply for the friendship they had managed to develop in the four years they have known each other.

These set rules were put in place to ensure that their friendship will remain intact if they so decide to go off and find their own happiness or satisfaction elsewhere.

Simple as that.

RULE 1: Let either one know if they are planning to sleep around or date - for safety reasons. RULE 2: No kissing outside of sex RULE 3: Keep things platonic outside of the bedroom. No flirting, no obvious touching, nothing that will make others uncomfortable. RULE 4: No feelings.

It was very easy for the two to stay within the boundaries of these rules, considering how busy they were with their careers. They had no time to catch feelings - despite their friends' warnings that this could end badly.

They were dumb but they weren't stupid. They were well aware of the consequences of their actions.

"How's comeback prep?" She recalled him mentioning this during one of their late night calls a few months back after one of Mingyu's schedules; claiming he couldn't sleep and no one else was awake to entertain him.

"Exhausting, we're doing twice the amount of practice because of our world tour."

"Oh yeah." Y/n paused, looking up from the items she carelessly discarded into her bag the day before. "When's the first show?"

"Three weeks ago." Mingyu chuckled.

This was a typical conversation between the two; especially when both of their schedules become equally as packed. He had no expectations for her to know his every single move, the same way he rarely knew what city or project she may be up to at the top of his head.

And if Mingyu was being honest, he was happy with this. They had no obligations to one another – not having to worry about anyone's emotions, what they were doing, having to give updates on their daily life.

It was low maintenance.

Just what they both needed.

"Which reminds me," Mingyu shifted in his place, digging into his pocket to pull out a small black box; earning a raised brow from her. "Here."

"Are you proposing to me?" She took the box from him, hesitantly opening it.

"Ha ha." He rolled his eyes. "Minghao and I were at a second hand store by the hotel and I saw those and it reminded me of you."

It was a vintage silver chain bracelet with two charms hanging off it; a key and circular pendant - a rare Gucci x Tom Ford collab to be exact. She had a knack for silver jewelry, especially stackable ones with multiple charms hanging off of them.

Minghao was on a hunt for a leather jacket that night, claiming that Japan had one of the best thrift stores for 2nd-hand designer items. Mingyu allowed his friend to drag him along on his little shopping trip, under one condition; dinner was paid for.

With no other member interested in browsing endless rows of clothing racks, Minghao agreed to Mingyu's terms.

Little did he know that it would be Mingyu that would score the best find of the night. It wasn't that he planned to buy her something, he was simply taking a glance at the glass case and there just happened to be something that looked like it would match his friend's style.

"How much was it?"

He waved her off. "I make what I paid for that in just two minutes."

She grabbed the nearest sweater she had just folded; throwing it at him with a laugh. "Dumbass."

"No but seriously, it was really cheap."

"Thank you." She smiled, getting up from the floor with her arms open wide.

Mingyu leaned away, laughing. "Ew, are you trying to hug me?"

"Come on, don't reject my love." She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up. Key word; tried. "Stop working out so much, you're too strong!"

"That's the goal, y/n." He refused to give in; flexing his bicep in attempts to loosen her grip.

"Are you- You're so insufferable." She let go of him.

Once their laughs subsided, they fell into a comfortable silence; Mingyu scrolling on his phone while she continued to unpack. He had no plans of leaving and she had no plans of kicking him out.

Mingyu and y/n didn't care to admit it, but they missed each other. After all, it was normal to miss your friend.

They didn't know how or when but somehow, in between the stories Mingyu told about his group's impromptu time in Rome and sharing her excitement for the new fall collections that were set to debut during Paris Fashion week, they found themselves cuddling. Her head rested on Mingyu's chest while she watched FRIENDS for the upteenth time whilst Mingyu watched the rough edit of their new music video - his free hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair.

This wasn't breaking the rule; they were in the bedroom.

This was technically part of the benefits they agreed on.

"What's your plans for Chuseok? Is your mom flying in?"

She didn't grow up in Korea and had little to no family left in the country; making holidays like these isolating. Being a 2nd generation immigrant, she didn't have the slightest intentions of moving her whole life to Korea in the first place. But somehow, she was back in the same country her grandparents left to seek a better future for their family. Who would have known that the future of one of their grandkids was back where they began their lives together.

Y/n shook her head, silently answering his question.

In previous years, her mom made an effort to fly in to visit her and celebrate Chuseok and Christmas with her. But with her grandparents growing older, and due to her recent schedule alignment, she didn't see that it was necessary for her mom to visit for such a short amount of time.

"I'll probably just fly out around Christmas time." Her eyes trained on the television.

"Want to spend it with us?"

She raised her head and gave him a look. "Because that went so well last year."

Her mom left a day earlier than planned the previous year, leaving her to spend the last day of Chuseok alone.

Somehow Mingyu caught wind of this and invited her over to have dinner with his family. This of course sent his mom and sister over the moon; thinking and thanking the gods and saints that he finally brought a girl home. Despite Mingyu and her explanations that they were in fact just friends; the teasing and gawking went on until the two left.

"I'll tell Minseo to cool it with the teasing."

"Maybe." That earned a smile from him. "I said maybe! Jungkook and I are flying out to LA for another shoot right after, I might just spend the time getting the pulls ready for it."

He raised his brows. "All three days?"

"I also have to assist with Tae-"

"All HYBE staff have Chuseok off."

"Office is closed but I have keys." There weren't any rules about stopping by the company if it was needed. She was on salary after-all.

"Come on, you know you like my mom's cooking." He sang. "You haven't had a home cooked meal from a mom in a while."

"Maybe."

"Hard head." Mingyu rolled his eyes. He knew there was no winning when it came to convincing her to do something she wasn't too keen on doing.

For someone who worked in a fast paced industry that was constantly changing, she was very much someone who was not too fond of spontaneity. She needed structure, and she was definitely someone who had a 5 year plan written down in a notebook or her notes app.

Her job was the only controlled chaos she allowed.

"Butt head."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"You look happy. Did you come from a special someone's place?" His best friend teased as he opened the door.

"None of your business." Mingyu playfully rolled his eyes at his friend; kicking off his sneakers before reaching down to pet the large dog happily waiting for him.

"Oh but when you want to know when we'll be back in Korea, it's all of a sudden my business." Jungkook chuckled, handing him a glass filled with a light brown liquid.

"Exactly." He smiled, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "Eugh, why is it warm? You have all this money but can't afford a working fridge?"

"Fuck off. It was cold earlier but you took too long to get here."

Mingyu received a text from Jungkook inviting him over to drink and hang out.... 3 hours ago. He meant to open the text, he really did - but he became a little too invested in Monica and Chandler's attempts to hide their relationship from their friends and completely forgot about the multiple notifications he received from his friend.

It wasn't until y/n received four consecutive text messages from Jungkook, begging her to share his best friend that he missed very much, that Mingyu realized he had left his friend on delivered. She practically pushed him out the door to get him to leave, claiming "He won't stop bothering me until you show up."

"My bad. Monica and Chandler are sleeping together." He took a seat on the couch, taking another sip - ignoring the temperature of the drink.

"Oh great, more friends that are fucking- Do people not believe in relationships anymore?"

"Hey how does your song go again? I wanna see it in motion, Monday Tue-"

"I got it. I got it." He interrupted his friend's medley of his two new singles. "You know, you and y/n are starting to have the same sense of humor, it's making me sick."

"Don't you like that? It's like I'm with you even if I'm not."

"I hate that she said the same thing to me." Jungkook grumbled. "Please, just date and put me out of my misery."

"Won't dating make it worse?"

"So you've considered it."

Mingyu shook his head at his friend's quick remark.

He wasn't boyfriend material. He was busy, barely even having time for himself; dating was definitely not in his cards right now.

Especially not with someone who he has grown very fond of. Fond; in a purely platonic way, of course.

Mingyu has tried dating before, and they all lead to heartache and headache; his busy schedule always being the root of the problem. He grew tired of fighting the same fight with different people and vowed that the next time he tried dating would be when his professional life had fully slowed down.

But with the current trajectory of his group's career, it seemed as though this was not in the cards anytime soon.

And Mingyu was perfectly okay with that.

Besides, he had y/n.

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @bubbly-moon @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#hah.... hah... uh.... angst??? again?? hehehehehehe #laughs in evil #spamwrites #spamgyu urs #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen fic #mingyu x oc #seventeen imagines #mingyu fic #mingyu angst #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x y/n #mingyu series

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships - Epilogue

Summary: A glimpse into the rest of your life with Wanda Maximoff.

Word count: 2.3k+ | Warnings: None; Just Fluff | Ship: Wanda x Reader

Author's note: We officially come to a close! I'd like to take this opportunity to thank each and everyone of you who read, liked, commented, and reblogged this story. This is my first time completing a multi-chapter fic and I couldn't have done it without you. You guys will always have a special place in my heart. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I'll keep writing--my request box is open :)

Series Masterlist

-

Epilogue

Ten Months Later

Montauk, especially in winter, looks as if it's straight out of a postcard. 

For as long as you can remember, Montauk is the only place that's felt like home. And you've shared it with the woman who's known you even before you took your first breath in this world. But now, there are days when she doesn't recognize you, days when she cries out in fear thinking you're an intruder, when she tearfully calls for her own mother or searches anxiously for her late husband.

The merciless grip of Alzheimer's is steadily robbing her from you, and time seems to draw out the process in a cruel, agonizing manner.

Wanda is there for you though, through every difficult moment. She is your rock when you feel like crumbling, your light in the darkest moments. You are both staying in Montauk for some time now, taking care of your mother. Your mother sometimes recognizes her, and she’s remarkably warmer to your ex-wife more than you can remember. You think, perhaps, it has something to do with her memories that are slowly wilting away, and all that is left is the love she’s always held back for the other woman in your life.

One evening, as snowflakes start to gently fall from the sky, Wanda gets the sudden urge to take a walk. After some persuasion, you find yourself pulled out from the inviting warmth of the bed you've been sharing, grumbling while putting your layers of clothing back on to indulge Wanda in her whimsical idea.

Hand-in-hand, you set off just as the sun begins its descent, painting the horizon with streaks of indigo and pink. Snowflakes settle on Wanda's hair, turning her fiery locks into a winter wonderland. She smiles, her green eyes sparkling with the reflection of the dimming twilight. 

You soak in the sight of her, the love of your life, aglow in the beauty of the snowy evening, committing it to memory. 

An old park lies ahead, its swings and benches blanketed by the fresh snowfall. Wanda leads you to the swing set, her laughter carrying through the chilly air as she plops down on one of them. You take the swing beside her, the frosty metal biting through your clothing, but you don’t mind. The sight of Wanda, her face flushed with cold yet bright with joy, is worth braving the winter chill.

As the swing set gently comes to a halt, Wanda nudges you, pointing towards a row of trees in the distance. “Look over there,” she says, “Do you see that?”

You squint at the snow-laden branches, trying to decipher what she's referring to. While you're absorbed in your futile search, Wanda quietly slips off the swing, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. As you turn back to her with a puzzled look, ready to ask what you were supposed to see, you find her on her knees in the fresh snow, looking up at you with an earnest gaze.

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. With a quick flick of her wrist, she pops it open to reveal a simple yet stunning ring nestled within. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your heart stutters at the sight of Wanda's hopeful gaze. For a moment, everything seems to stand still. Snowflakes suspend their descent, the air holds its breath. With a lump in your throat, you utter a word you never thought you'd say in this moment. 

“No.”

Shock registers on Wanda's face, her eyes wide and vulnerable. The world seems to crash around her, the word echoing ominously in her ears. But then, before she has a chance to fully comprehend what's happening, you're sinking to your knees in the snow beside her.

“Because,” you begin, laughter choking your words even as tears track down your cheeks. You fumble in your pocket, pulling out your own small box. You pry it open, revealing a gleaming ring nestled within. “Because I want you to marry me.”

The world, previously paused, starts up again in a rush of sound and color.

Laughter bubbles up from within you, filling the silence, mingling with the tears streaming down your face. Wanda stares at you, stunned into silence, her tears mirroring your own.

“Yes,” she breathes out finally, her voice choked with emotion. “Yes, yes, yes.”

In the stillness that follows, you gently take her hand, slipping the ring onto her trembling finger. 

You look up at her, your heart in your eyes. “Yes, Wanda, I'll marry you,” you whisper.

Wanda's fingers are ice-cold, trembling with adrenaline, when she reaches for your hand, your ring. Her focus is so intense as she slips it onto your finger that it feels as if everything else has fallen away.

Without wasting a moment, Wanda lurches forward, lips finding yours in a kiss, full of passion and relief. The chill of the snow around you seems to dissipate as your mouths move in a rhythm perfected by time and familiarity. Every small shift, every pressure, the way she tugs at your lower lip, the way you reciprocate by pulling her closer by the waist, it all stokes a warmth that radiates from your core, spreading outwards, rendering the winter air irrelevant.

The soft moan that escapes Wanda against your lips fills you with a satisfaction, an overwhelming sense of rightness that even the best of days prior to this moment had not quite achieved.

Like all beautiful things, the kiss comes to an end. She pulls away, her breath ghosting over your lips as she whispers, “Yes,” echoing your sentiment. “Yes, you will.”

Year 2

A year later, the smell of antiseptic and the sterile white walls of a hospital room are your surroundings. You lay exhausted on the hospital bed, swaddled in a light hospital gown, holding the newest addition to your family. 

A baby girl. 

Yours and Wanda’s. 

She is swathed in soft pink blankets, her tiny face peering curiously at the world she's just entered.

Overwhelmed, overjoyed, and slightly terrified, Wanda is darting around the room, fretting over everything and anything. Her brows are furrowed as she questions the nurses on the baby’s feeding, changing, swaddling. She's always been meticulous, but her anxiety seems to be on a whole new level today.

Meanwhile, she's constantly checking up on you too. A wet cloth to dab your sweaty forehead, a soft kiss to reassure you, a gentle squeeze of your hand. Each time she asks if you're okay, if you need anything, if you're feeling too tired or too overwhelmed.

Her voice is a touch higher than usual, her movements slightly rushed. It's all too adorable, you think. The endearing sight of Wanda fussing over you and the baby brings a soft smile to your tired face.

Wanda’s gaze alternates between you and the tiny bundle in your arms, as if she’s afraid that this is all some dream that she would wake from.

“You're doing great, love,” you reassure her in a voice hoarse with exhaustion, but filled with so much love and admiration for this woman. Your woman. You wouldn’t trade her frantic behavior for anything else.

“Do you want to hold her?” you ask Wanda, lifting the baby slightly from your chest.

Wanda freezes at your question, her eyes flickering from the tiny face peeking out from the swaddles and back to you. She seems to be calculating the risk of her holding something so precious and delicate. She bites her lip nervously, her hand absently wringing together.

“I'm... I'm afraid I might hurt her. She's so small,” Wanda murmurs, almost too softly to hear.

A soft laugh bubbles up from you, finding her concern endearing. With your free hand, you tenderly take hers, squeezing reassuringly.

“Wands, love, she's our daughter. She already knows you and she wants her mom. Come on,” you encourage her, your voice soft but confident.

With a deep breath, Wanda nods. She gingerly slips onto the bed beside you, her arm tentatively reaching out. Her hand hovers over the baby's tiny form, her fingers trembling slightly.

Seeing her hesitate, you gently place the baby into Wanda's waiting arms. The moment your daughter is cradled in her arms, Wanda's eyes fill with unshed tears. Her gaze is locked on the little face looking up at her.

She's silent for a moment, just looking down at the tiny, squirming bundle in her arms. You watch as she traces her finger lightly over your daughter's chubby cheek, her touch feather-light as though she's handling a priceless piece of art.

“She's... She's beautiful,” Wanda finally whispers, her voice choked with emotion. You watch as a single tear escapes, trailing down her cheek.

“She has your eyes,” you say softly, leaning against Wanda's shoulder.

Her response is a watery laugh, and she turns to press a kiss on your forehead. “And your nose,” she retorts, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I didn’t know it was possible to be even more in love with you,” she adds, looking into your heavy-lidded eyes.

As you look at Wanda holding your daughter, overwhelmed with love and emotion, you think that there can't be anything equally perfect as this moment. 

Year 4

Something equally as perfect comes two years later.

You and Wanda return to your new apartment in Manhattan, this time with a little more noise, a lot more love, and two new family members in tow. 

The eighteen arduous hours of Wanda's labor are still fresh in your mind. The anxiety and fear you felt, the helplessness, as you watched her endure the pain, fighting for every breath, are experiences you would never forget. For a moment, you feared for her life, but Wanda, as always, proved to be a force of nature. She battled through, delivering the twins normally. Your two-year-old daughter has just been promoted to big sister status, with the arrival of her twin brothers, William and Thomas.

Wanda, holding Billy, looks at you over the top of his little head. Her eyes are bright, tired but excited. You carry Tommy, his tiny hand gripping your finger, and his weight in your arms feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Despite being outnumbered by your kids, you and Wanda are no novices now. With one child already, you've learned the ropes of parenthood, even if juggling the needs of three young children is still quite the adventure. 

Looking back, you can't help but wonder. If things had been smoother, easier, would you still end up here? 

Sure, life has thrown you a few curveballs. But those curveballs brought you to this moment, to this feeling of complete and utter happiness. 

You wouldn't change a thing.

Because this is it. This is your perfect. This is the beautiful chaos of a big family you and Wanda have created together. And you wouldn't trade it for the world. 

This moment is everything you ever wanted.

Year 35

You both retire to a charming little town on the east coast, away from the relentless hum of city life. The house is a modest one, its size perfect for two people entering the golden years of their life.

It's a quiet evening when you find yourself sitting in the bathtub, the warm water soothing against your aging muscles. The bathroom door creaks open and in walks Wanda, unadorned and as beautiful as the day you met her. You watch as she undresses, each wrinkle and mark a testament to the years you've spent together. The sight of her, the raw display of strength, beauty, and age, leaves you breathless.

She eases herself into the tub, the water rising as she settles across from you. Your legs brush against each other, a touch that still sends warmth spreading through your veins. Her eyes, the same captivating pair you lost yourself in more than four decades ago, meet yours and your heart does a familiar dance.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a teasing smile. “You have that look again.”

“What look?” you feign innocence, though a mischievous glint gives you away.

“That look as if you're seeing a young woman, and not the one who's been trying to get a senior discount for the past few years,” she quips.

You chuckle, leaning closer, the water ripples between you two as you do. “Honestly, after all this time,” you whisper, fingers tracing the back of her hand submerged in the water, “I can't help myself.”

She playfully rolls her eyes, her cheeks tinted with a hint of a blush that reminds you of her younger self. “Ever the charmer,” she murmurs, her voice betraying the flutter of excitement she still feels from your compliments, even after all these years.

“You may have a few more lines here and there,” you whisper, your eyes taking in every beautiful detail of her face, “But to me, you're as breathtaking as the day we met. Time can't change the way I see you, Wanda.”

With deliberate slowness, you lean in, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips. As you pull back, you see the warmth in her eyes, the soft smile playing on her lips, and you feel an old, familiar urge.

Your next kiss is deeper, more insistent, and your hand finds its way to her waist, pressing her closer. Her laughter bubbles up, breaking the kiss momentarily as she playfully swats your wandering hand away.

“You really still find this,” she gestures to herself, “Desirable?”

You lean back slightly, taking in her form with a deliberate, exaggerated slowness, your gaze wandering from her face to her feet and back up again. “Every inch.”

She gives you a mock exasperated look, but the smile that's trying to break through belies her true feelings. “You and your words,” she mutters, pulling you closer by the nape of your neck, her fingers tangling in your damp hair. “Do they ever run out?”

“Not when it comes to you,” you reply earnestly, your lips hovering just above hers. “Never when it comes to you.”

Making love isn't as easy as it once was, with bodies grown old and not as supple. 

But your love for Wanda—if anything, is stuck in time.

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

(🐝 to recognise as mine)

AITA for not interfering in my little sister's friends icing her out? For context, my sister is two years younger than me and we both go to the same school — I know her friends and they know me.

My sister is in a small group (six in total) and none of them are in her class. She is in the highest classes for every subjects and none of her friends are — but she's the only one who makes it a problem, constantly bragging about her own marks and actively belittling everybody else. She also makes comments about their body weight, appearance, diet and fitness, ranging from general nasty remarks to actively referring to certain friends as the "fucking fatties of the group". She always shit talks her friends to each other in this manner and they all know because they do the same sport as me (my sister doesn't) and I hear them talking about it (one time one of her friends was genuinely crying when confessing some of the stuff my sister said).

Furthermore she is notoriously homophobic, transphobic and ableist, and often says things and slurs that make her friends uncomfortable (none of them to my knowledge are queer but one has been formally diagnosed with ADHD and tics).

Her friends have begun to distance themselves from her and though they haven't fully iced her out yet, I know it's going to happen first because it's the natural course of these types of things and second because I've overheard many of them say that that's their goal. As someone who has dealt with people like my sister in my own friend group, I don't blame them for this in the slightest.

I've talked to her before as her older sibling about not behaving this way, both because it's fucking rude and also because for several months now I've heard her friends saying they're "uncomfortable" around her and don't like hanging out with her. I haven't told her what I've overheard her friends say about her but I have warned her that they "will and probably already do" feel that way. She hasn't listened to me in the past and won't now because I'm "not her mother".

She has begun to notice them separating from her (most recently going trick-or-treating and not inviting her) and has mentioned it vaguely to my parents. My mum has asked me privately to step in and help my sister out.

I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to interfere in what's happening. It's firmly my belief that you should always accept the consequences of your actions and I also am taking some degree of satisfaction watching her finally do so. (In the past she has actively bullied people and gotten away with it scot free).

Furthermore, she frequently says homophobic shit about me and my friends to my face, misgendering me and calling all of us slurs despite me being out about it and my parents being aware and vaguely accepting (it's complicated lol). It is satisfying to see her take heat for her behaviour, even if it's not directly related to what she says at home.

I'm not going to help my sister because in my opinion she has dug her own grave and it's time to lie in it. I doubt I will change my mind on this but I am curious if people beyond my own friends and my sister's friends think that this makes me the asshole.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[messierthanthou]

Took me longer than expected but here! You and Tangerine are stuck in the snow in a car on the way to a job, and you have to keep warm somehow, hehe

What to expect: Some very slight dirty talk eventually, some fingering and some jerking him off, no p in v because there's simply not room for it in the car sadly! Saving that for another time ;)

3.6k words, whoopsie

Cold, Warm, Hot

Outside the wind whistles and the snow whips around your car in a furious flurry of impenetrable white. The tires lost their grip on the road once you hit a sheet of black ice on the unkempt backroads that was supposed to lead you to your next target; some rich asshole who crossed the wrong kind of people to make even more billions than he can spend in his now short life.

But that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is the fact that you and Tangerine are stuck in the snow a dozen miles from civilization, and with what little cell reception you two have here, Tangerine managed to call for a tow truck. Which will arrive in about 12 hours or so.

“Now, I’m not one to lose my shit over something this trivial, but I told you, bad stuff happens when you split up the team,” Tangerine says, referring of course to the fact that Lemon isn’t here.

Lemon is already up ahead, probably sitting warm and cozy in the cabin you rented as a meeting place and base of operations for this trip. And Tangerine seems to think it’s bad luck whenever he and Lemon are separated for too long, and you shake your head at their codependency.

Tangerine gives the wheels another spin, trying time and time again to become unstuck, but…

“Would you stop that? You’re only digging us deeper into the snow,” you say with just a slight roll of your eyes.

“Fine, but you can’t say that I didn’t try.” And he turns off the engine.

“What are you doing? We’re gonna freeze to death in here without the heat on!” You reach for the car keys to turn them but he’s faster and pulls them out of the ignition.

“So you’d want us to be unable to drive when we eventually get out of this heaping pile of snow? We get pulled out by the tow truck, then we can’t go anywhere because we’re either out of gas or the battery’s dead.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” you ask, exasperated.

“Get cozy; you’re under so many layers over there, surely you’ll survive a short night out in the cold like this.” He gestures to you and your perhaps too many layers of clothes, but you were always one to get cold easily, so it only made sense to dress up proper for the occasion.

“Yeah, well, what about you?”

Tangerine is wearing his usual gingham patterned overcoat and a cashmere scarf because fashion matters more than functionality to this man.

“A little cold won’t hurt me, darlin’, I’m thick skinned.”

“Thick in the head if you think that little getup will keep you warm throughout the night.”

“You’re right, why don’t we snuggle up on the backseat and keep each other warm, huh? Bet you’d like that.”

Heat rises to your face at that, but you’re thankfully not one to blush at something so innocent. No matter how much you’d actually be into the idea of snuggling up with someone as incredibly handsome and occasionally charming as Tangerine. He teases, of course, but there’s something to his grin and a shine in his eyes that might indicate he wouldn’t say no if you said yes.

But you don’t.

“No, I'll be fine over here, getting cozy underneath my too many layers.”

And he acts like it was a joke, but for a moment, just a second, there’s something about the fall in his broad shoulders that tells you he wanted you to say yes to the proposition.

“Suit yourself.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d asked you in a jestering manner to become physical with him, and he keeps being a good sport about it even when you say no again and again. And every time you hate yourself a little more, but someone has to have a moral code and keep the distance required in a profession such as yours. Can’t get too close to anyone or their inevitable death will break you down. Stay cool, stay calm, stay collected.

He doesn’t speak much after that as the two of you sit in the dark, the cold creeping in on you both, but you barely feel it through your thick winter coat, sweater, thermal underwear, and the couple of stockings beneath your slacks.

But he is quick to start shivering. He stays tough and stoic, trying not to let it show, arms crossed and head buried in his scarf, but you can hear it in his breathing, the way it shivers with every exhale, and you feel bad for the idiot who decided to wear that outfit that makes your heart flutter.

Minutes go by where you have to listen to his teeth chattering, the stubborn fool still not turning on the engine to keep you both heated, and eventually you give in.

“Get in the backseat,” you say and start undoing your coat.

“What? Why? What’d I do? What are you doing?” He asks too many questions sometimes.

“We’re gonna do what you suggested, snuggle up to keep you warm. If you fall sick on this trip I’ll never hear the end of it from Lemon. So crawl on back there.”

You’ve been told in the past that you can be “bossy” which is usually just a euphemism for “I don’t want to take orders from a woman,” but Tangerine would never say or act like that, so he does as you say and climb between the front seats and into the back of this not-that-spacious car, and you follow.

“So. What now?” he asks as you sit hip to hip and your heart beats faster.

You had sort of hoped he’d decline the offer, act like a big, tough man who can handle it on his own, but he seems almost… eager for this. Like it’s something he’s been waiting for for a while.

“Open up your coat,” you say as you take off yours.

“Oh are we finally doing this? No more will they won’t they?” he jokes again, but there’s not much of a smile beneath that stupidly attractive mustache.

Perhaps he’s suddenly worried about catching feelings like you are, maybe he doesn’t actually want to but has a hard time saying no to you, or it could be that he’s holding back. You can’t figure out which is more likely at this moment.

“No, we’re just going to lay down here on the backseat together. Body heat, as you may know, is best shared when you’re close to one another, so I will do my best to sort of… lie down next to you, and we’ll use my coat as a blanket to shield us from the cold.”

Silence fills the room and through the dark you can barely tell what his face looks like, and you wouldn’t start to guess if he’s interested in the idea of lying with you or the idea of survival.

“Is that okay with you?” you ask and finally he moves as he nods.

“Yeah, yeah makes perfect sense, body heat and all that, sure.” Tangerine is quick to unbutton his coat and does his best to lie down on the backseat without taking up too much space.

And so you lay down next to him, face to face on your sides as it’s pretty cramped in here.

“Like this?” he asks and his voice has never been this close to you before.

“Maybe if we got closer we’d be more comfortable?”

“Sure.”

With him against the backrest of the seat, it is up to you to inch closer and closer till your bodies are pressed against each other, you can feel his rapid heartbeat and practically taste his intoxicating cologne. You’re about half a head shorter than him, but you’re lying up high enough to feel his breath tingle across your lips. He has stopped shivering.

But now you are just this close to trembling. You’re of course no damsel in distress, far from it, but as heat gathers between you and him, eyes locked together, you sigh.

“You ok?” he asks tenderly without a nervous waver to his tone, but you fret a little that if you speak, your voice might not be as steady.

“Mhm,” you hum out and give only the slightest of nods.

“This ok with you? You comfortable?”

If anything you’re too comfortable, and wish he’d stop being so randomly nice to you; it’s a rare side to him you’ve seen only a few times, and he’ll always deny it later on.

“Y-yeah,” you say and curse yourself internally for that slight stutter.

“Is it okay if I put my hand here?”

His strong and firm hand lands on your waist and it doesn’t even take a second for sparks to ignite and fly straight to your cunt as it starts throbbing ever so slightly.

“Yeah that’s… that’s fine.”

You don’t get tenderly touched often in this job; the only time you are ever physical with somebody is either during active combat or training, and never have you been this close to Tangerine, and it’s as if this warmth and gentleness is the key that unlocks the door to this hidden chamber in your mind, body and soul that you’ve fought to keep closed.

Your eyes close and you try to shut the door again, distancing yourself from the situation at hand, pretending not to notice how broad shouldered he is, his strong chest, his heated presence, that hand and the fact that you’re tingling all over and your pussy is drenched with lust for this brit.

Can he feel your heart beating too? Your quickened breath, your trembling legs, your heat.

Unfortunately you want him. You’ve never wanted anyone this bad before and it pains you. Stay cool, stay calm, stay collected. Your mantra. The one thing that has kept you at bay for so long is your devotion to being a goddamn professional, but this? This is far from that.

You wish he’d kiss you, touch you skin to skin. That he’d move his hand down, far down, beneath your pants and stockings and panties. Wish he’d run his fingers across your clit, massage it before slipping in between your soaking lips and down to finger your needy hole, preparing you for his cock to enter. With your eyes still closed you can easily imagine it all happening, and the heat between your thighs intensifies, building up.

“Hey,” he whispers, bringing you back from the fantasy and your eyes flutter open to catch how the moon shines in through the window, illuminating his all too close face and those incredible ocean eyes staring at you.

Then it happens. Your brain can barely register it but your body for sure can as he kisses you and you moan into the embrace. It’s a kind kiss, a gentle one - the type that tests the waters to see if what he’s doing is okay, and when he moves away again you miss it dearly and immediately.

He looks at you, perhaps waiting for a response, a reaction, waiting for you to say no and break his bleeding heart. But you don’t. Instead, you grab his face and pull it back into a deep and passionate kiss, and for just a moment you feel all the tension leave his body as he might realize that you do want this, too- oh God you’re on fire.

And it’s as if he can sense it as he presses his lips harder against yours as if this is all he’s ever wanted to do in life. He could have anyone but he wants you.

His hand on your waist tightens its grip, squeezing you through the shirt. Your hands run into his hair, around his neck and he groans into your kiss.

It doesn’t take long before you feel his cock growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants, and you don’t wait to grind against it with fervor, making him turn his head to hiss and groan out in pleasure. The breath of air is welcome, for his kiss suffocates you in the most delicious manner, making you forget to breathe in his presence.

The hand on your waist moves beneath the shirt and up your back, his touch is searing hot and you want nothing more than all of it everywhere. But you both understand that you can’t exactly get naked right here and now, it’d be too cold and there’s too little space to get properly into it all.

Yet that doesn’t mean either of you are going to stop.

He brings his hand up from beneath your shirt, grabs your wrist, kisses your hand and your palm almost too lovingly, then guides it down. Your eyes stay locked together, lips inches apart as you breathe the same air, as he brings your palm against his impressive bulge, and his eyelids lower at the pressure you put against it.

His forehead meets yours as his eyes close when you rub up against him and you can easily feel every inch of his throbbing cock that you wish would fuck you senseless.

But the best you can hope for right now is to feel it in the flesh, so you reach down with your other hand and start undoing his belt, but shock hits you like a brick when he stops you, and for a moment you doubt everything, until he’s quick to say-

“No, no no no, you first, love.”

It’s always been darlin’ or honey, but never love, and perhaps it is a bit too soon for that, but you feel your entire body tremble at the word anyways.

You are speechless as he then reaches down to undo the button of your pants, let the zipper run down, and when the tips of his fingers start to dig beneath the waistband of your too many layers, you close your eyes in anticipation.

And the relief is glorious when his index finger and middle finger smooth across your clit, letting go of some of that white hot tension that has been building up for what feels like hours, but are in fact only mere minutes.

“God,” you sigh, and you feel Tangerine huff a breathy laugh against your skin.

“Just Tangerine, dear.”

He starts drawing small, short and quick circles with your clit, massaging it just like you had hoped he would and oh he’s done this before, much to the benefit and joy of you right here, right now. You moan out in ecstasy and grip at his muscular arm in a need to stabilize yourself before you drift off to a sea of lust.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper and he doesn’t kiss you, but you can feel him staring at your knit brow and wide parted lips.

It is phenomenal, but it’s not enough.

“I want you… inside of me…” you whisper against his lips.

“Happily.”

And so without hesitation, he moves his fingers further down at an almost eager pace, but you are as enthused as he is, so it does not bother you at all. In fact you are beyond thrilled when his thick, strong fingers enter your slick, throbbing pussy, and as he immediately starts thrusting in and out as best as he can despite the restrictions, you thank God for the fact that you’re out in the middle of nowhere as you practically scream out in joy.

“Oh God, oh fuck, ahh!”

With every thrust of his fingers heat builds in you, coursing through your body, your thighs quivering and quaking, making you breathless. And when he kisses you it consumes everything as his tongue dances with yours while he fucks you thoroughly and passionately.

You’re so close to cumming that it would be irritating under normal circumstances, but right now everything is magic, so you don’t mind the wait for release that your vibrator usually brings you to that now Tangerine does instead.

And when he starts using the base of his palm to massage your clit in rhythm with his fingers entering you, you cry out in pure ecstasy as you cum possibly harder than you have in years, tearing your lips from his as you need all the air your lungs can muster. While you would never admit it due to how cheesy it sounds, it feels like fireworks in your cunt and gut exploding and lighting up your entire body, and you understand why orgasms are called “little deaths” because you could die happy right now as you slowly come down from your high and regain consciousness proper after what felt like a minutes long orgasm.

“My my,” Tangerine whispers against your jaw as he kisses it gently. “What a spectacular show.”

“You should try being me,” you say, breathlessly with a slight smile.

“To be honest that sounds like a pleasure, you phenomenal woman.”

You hum as you kiss the charmer, and when he pulls his fingers out you feel empty inside like never before. He sucks his fingers clean of you and it sends sparks through you to witness.

“Maybe next time I can try the real deal,” he suggests, implying that he’s more than willing to eat you out.

“Oh there’s gonna be a next time?” You laugh a little, because obviously, there’s no way you’ve had enough after just a taste of him.

“Oh there’s gonna be a next time,” he repeats assuredly, and he leans in to whisper in your ear, “I want my cock in your pussy so bad, I’ll fuck you into oblivion, make you cry out my name, my real name some day, and I’ll fucking ruin every other man that will come after me, because love, you’ll never have better than me.”

You practically moan at this promise, and pull him into a rough and electric kiss, whispering. “You cocky son of a bitch, let’s hope you’re good at keeping your promises.”

“Speaking of promises, I think you owe me one right now.”

“Happily.”

You’re not slow to undo his belt, and perhaps it is pure luck that you get it off so easily, but you won’t complain about it when you run the zipper down, and he groans out as you reach beneath the waistband and pull his cock out the best you can in this cramped space.

“Mmmm, quite big, aren’t you?” you tease as you get a proper feel of his girthy, lengthy cock.

“Never had any complaints.”

“I can feel why, God I want you inside of me. In my pussy. In my mouth.”

“If there was space I’d shove it so far up your cunt I’d be rearranging your guts.”

You moan a little with him at that thought.

“Next time.” And you start jerking him off, slowly at first, from the very base and all the way to the tip of his dick, letting your hand get wet with his precum before smearing it all over his length as you travel down again. You continue this rhythm for about half a minute or so, ensuring it won’t be a too dry experience for him, but the way his hips buck forward and his breathing becomes elevated, you’d guess you’re doing a proper job of it.

And if you had any doubts, they all go away when he grunts out-

“Fuck, love, that’s it, keep going…”

His hand grabs your ass as if it is the one thing that keeps him grounded in this moment of dear tenderness. And while he seems to enjoy the slow rhythm, when you eventually speed up he curses even more in a growl-

“Yes- fuck, shit, ah-”

He brings both his hands up to grab your face, kisses you and tongue fucks your mouth like it’s a promise, one he’ll keep, about all the things he’ll do to you that words can’t explain, but actions do speak the loudest.

And your actions seem to do the trick, for the faster you go, the louder he gets and it thrills you beyond anything to hear how vocal he is in his pleasure that you are granting him, and when he cums it is with choked grunts as he presses his forehead against yours and his eyes close up tight.

In your grip you feel how his cock pulsates and his entire body trembles in ecstasy, till he goes completely still and mostly limp in your hand, but still there’s some stiffness that says he could easily go a second round, and that intrigues you for future references, because you could definitely go again, too.

After nearly a minute of huffing for air, he speaks, “Bloody hell, love, that was… fantastic.”

“Hmm likewise,” you muse and kiss him which he welcomes.

A couple of minutes pass in silence as you both catch you breath, when a thought strikes you.

“What… what are we gonna tell Lemon?”

“Oh abso-fucking-lutely nothing!”

“What, really? You’re ok with keeping this a secret from your brother, of all people?”

“Yes! He’ll get all smug and say shit like told you so.”

“Oh? He predicted this?” You grin a little.

“Well not this exact situation, but yes, I may have told him how I find you so attractive, and he might have told me you feel the same sort of attraction to me.”

“And how did he know that?”

“You know Lemon, he’s stupidly amazing at reading people, so it might have been obvious to him.”

“And you don’t think it’ll be just as obvious to him that we practically fucked?”

There’s a moment of quiet as Tangerine considers the outcome of this, then-

“Ah shit.”

Because yes, Lemon will absolutely know.

#bullet train #tangerine #tangerine/reader #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tell me what you think!

[luimagines]

Soulmates in the Sky

Another commission!

They asked for the similar Soulmate plot I had for Warrior but make it Sky. this includes beginning context so for the majority/ entirety of the fic, Sky is referred to as Link.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When Link was little, he always wondered what it would mean to have a soulmate. Everyone on Skyloft had one. Or at least they had the idea that they had one.

Link didn’t understand it, but he hoped he would have one. There was a time for everyone to go see their soulmate. It was a cave, they said. It was wonderful, they said. It was life changing, they said. Link couldn’t wait for his turn.

As life continued on, Link grew and studied and found his loftwing. It wasn’t long after flying lessons began that the instructor had asked the young student to listen carefully.

They would be going to Souls Cove.

Link could hardly contain the way his little heart swelled up in anticipation.

Zelda didn’t seem to care as much as he did, but he hoped they would be nice and pretty and would love to go flying with him. 

“Listen up!” The instructor called them to attention. “You fly behind me and stay above the line of flight. We’re going to go around the main island and then we’ll take a right and go under the torrent. Any questions?”

Link couldn’t stop himself. He raised his hand. “How do we know if we have a soulmate once we get there?”

The instructor smiled kindly. It wasn’t a secret that soulmates were well known among Skyloftians, but the manner of which they were found was kept under tight lock. It was something no one wanted to spoil.

But today was the day they would learn, so there was little harm in explaining.

The instructor pointed in the direction in which they would travel and looked into the distance. “Once there, each of you will take turns entering the cave. You will see and hear your soulmate for the very first time- although it will only be reflections. There would be a magic stone that would connect you to them that whispers their inner thoughts towards you. You collect that and keep it safe.”

“So they’re not actually there?” Zelda tilted her head. “Why bother going then?”

“To learn who they are.”

Link raised his hand again, a small yet terrifying thought entering into his mind. “What if we don’t see anyone?”

The instructor paused, thinking over his words. “Well…most of the time it means that you already know who they are. But you can still collect the stone.”

Link calmed himself down. That’s fine then. Even better if he already met them!

“But what if there’s no stone?” Pipit asked next. He was going to skip ahead next year, Link was sure of it. So Link waited for the answer to his question. If Pipit was smart enough to skip a year, then there was surely a good point to his question. Besides, Link also wanted to know the answer.

The instructor looked nervous then. “There’s never been a case where there was no stone. So I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.” 

Multiple students didn’t bother to hide their disappointment.

“Any other questions?”

Pipt raised his hand once more. “What if we don’t hear anything from the stone?”

The instructor didn’t look amused. They deadpan and point to the edge of the island. “Impossible. We’ll head out. Follow me and stay close.”

They run and leap off of the edge of the island. Link is quick to do the same.

He can hear his classmates follow soon after and he whistles 

His loftwing comes up soon after, picking him up in what already is practiced momentum. Link has to keep an eye out for the professor- in order to keep their flying skills in check, they don’t tell the professors to wait for the students. The students have to catch up on their own or make their way back to the main island to be collected or redirected and start over. 

Link takes to the air like a fish takes to water. This is where he belongs.

He lands next to the instructor with practiced ease tucking into a roll and stopping in a sitting position. The instructor seemed mildly amused at his entrance as he turned to expect the other students to arrive.

“Link, you go first.” The instructor gestured to the cave. “It’s only fair you’ve arrived first. Besides, I have to wait for the other students.”

Link jumps to his feet, his heart in his throat as he looks towards the entrance of the cave. Was this it? Was it truly so simple? The cave entrance itself was simple and unassuming. Yet it held the air of destiny and it’s heavy in Link’s chest.

Link nods, taking the first steps into the cave. It’s quiet and there’s the sound of dripping water somewhere beyond him.

“Why are you so pretty?” A new voice says. They sound annoyed and irritated. “Don’t you know you make it hard to think? Do you have to be this distracting?”

Link pauses. He’s not sure if he should be offended or if he should take it as a compliment. What a strange thing to be annoyed about. At least they like the way he looks. 

Link walks further into the cove. He can vaguely hear the other students arriving just beyond the entrance, but the sounds of the cave seem to muffle their outcries and rough housing.

“H-hey… I didn’t mean it like that.” The voice sounds bashful now. Link looks around a stalagmite and into the crystal reflection on the wall. The reflection is not his own- but rather his soulmates. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. He’s never seen anyone like them. On one hand, he’s instantly enamored but on the other….he’s seen everyone on Skyloft. And he’s never seen them before. What does that mean?

“Link!” The instructor calls into the cave- ripping Link’s attention away from the reflection. “Not to ruin the moment….but the others have arrived. They need their turns before we have to head back. You can come back now that you know where it is, but you need to finish up.”

Link runs further in, just so he doesn’t miss anything else. Multiple iterations of reflections pass him. None of which belong to him. They’re from different moments of his soulmate's life. Each memory of his soulmate passes before him- letting him know about them before he’s ever actually met them. He sees glimpses into their childhood- up until he sees them as his age.

He stops at a pedestal of sorts. It’s a broken off stalagmite, protruding from the floor of the cave, but it’s the only one like that. The clearing around it seems purposeful. It looks significant.

There’s a smooth stone sitting in the middle of it.

Something in Link tells him to reach for it, to take it and keep it. He doesn’t fight it. 

“I’ll always be on your team.” His soulmate tells him. The stone feels warm. Feeling giddy and ready to take on the world with a new purpose, Link rushes back out of the cave, not willing to risk himself getting in trouble. If the instructor was honest, then Link would certainly find himself coming back here. He doesn’t know where they are, but he can already tell that he’d do anything for them.

He can’t wait to meet them.

***

Zelda gets taken two years later.

When she had come out of Souls Cove, she had looked as neutral as she could. Link had tried to ask questions about what she saw- or didn’t see- but she didn’t seem willing to talk about it. At the time Link had thought it was strange. They were best friends. She was always willing to talk to him.

But it hadn’t ever really mattered. Link would have gone to the edge of the earth and beyond for her. And then he had to prove it.

During his journey he had learned much, seen more than he could imagine, heard more than he was willing to believe. If there was a whole new world to discover, Link was certain that you were there, waiting for him. Even if you most likely didn’t know who he was.

But it’s fine, Link tells himself. He’s young. There’s peace on earth. 

He finishes his schooling and moves to the surface ready to begin the next chapter of his life. And to look for his soulmate. Surely they’re somewhere.

***

Years pass and Link finds a strange portal. It reeks of malice. He’s familiar with the smell and he’s emboldened by the energy. 

Something is trying to tear apart his home once more. He’s not entirely sure if he can bring back the Master Sword- but that’s not going to stop him from protecting everyone just like he did in the past.

He tells Zelda and Groose that he’s going on a journey again. He’s not sure when he’s going to be back. Link tells them about the portal and to watch for the people he’s about to leave behind. Zelda cries and Groose promises to do his best as he is incapable of doing anything less.

He smiles and packs up his best gear, taking as much as he can before he reaches the edge of the portal. He hopes the settlement remembers to steer clear of it. Who knows what came out of it? He’s certainly going to find out.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Link remembers his soulmate and how he has yet to find them among the expanse of the surface. But he steels his nerves. If the world is destroyed, there wouldn't be any soulmate to continue finding. They probably don’t even know of the issue.

With their safety in mind, Link doesn’t have it in himself to look back.

***

Link finds a group of heroes. Interestingly, they all share the same name, so they opt for nicknames or titles. They call him Sky. This group, these boys all protect the surface time and time again because of his failure to shut up Demise in the first place. Most are younger than him. Only a select few are older. Many took the blade before they were teenagers- although Link can’t tell who did what. All he gathered was that the average age of taking up the blade is 11. But he has a suspicion that a few of the members were even younger.

It makes him sick.

Still, they have earned his trust and they all have a common goal. Fi seems to like them as well- although he’s not sure how they managed to bring the Master Sword on the journey. They let him carry her the most and for that he is grateful. It feels comforting, although he’s also learned that he perhaps is the only one to think that way.

And then, while he travels, when he least expects it. You’re thrown into the mix up.

You were running from monsters, screaming at first before you turned around grabbed a stick and started fighting back as hard as you could.

Link had to remind himself to stop staring once they were patching you up. As you explained your story, Link heard none of it. He took in your every detail, your voice, your clothes. You’ve grown just as much as he has since that first day in Souls Cove.

His fingers trace over the little stone he’s collected on that day. He’s never let it be found missing from his person. He carries it everywhere, just to hear you. But now it’s gone silent. Why would it speak? You’re right here in front of him.

You’re battered and bruised, but it appears that your ego had taken most of the blow. You seem annoyed with yourself as you get more passionate in complaining about the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Someone elbows him, hard. “Close your mouth. You’ll start drooling.”

Link wipes his chin just in case and shuts his mouth with an audible click. He turns to the young man next to him. Blond like most of them and strong hearted. They ended up calling him The Captain for his previous war experience. “I’m not drooling.”

“I know.” He says with a knowing glint in his eyes. “But we don’t need you starting. It’s a miracle they haven’t caught you yet. You suck at being subtle. Are you even trying?”

Link’s face warms. Of course he wasn’t trying. It didn’t even occur to him. “Shut up.”

“Any reason they’ve caught your attention?” The Captain asks, keeping that annoying, knowing smirk on his face. “You haven’t stopped staring since they showed up.”

Link coughs. He hasn’t disclosed to any of them about his soulmate. It didn’t take a genius to realize that they don’t have the same concept. It’s hard to reach Souls Cove directly from the surface anyway. And as much as it pains Link to realize it, he’s embarrassed to share his very common truth.

“They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.” He admits softly. 

His admission takes The Captain by surprise- his teasing mode only marginally dashed. But then it returns. “Then go say hello.”

“What!? No.” Link shuts it down. How on earth is he going to do that? Is he supposed to go up to you and say “hello, my name is Link and I’m your soulmate. I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen and I know what your favorite childhood toy is, what your dream job is and your happiest memory.” Yeah, right. You don’t know how he is. He’d ruin everything before it even starts.

“Why not? It’s easy.” The Captain begins to push him forward.

“No” Link tries to dig his feet into the ground. “No. No! Warrior!”

His yelling starts to gather some attention from the others. The one they call The Veteran raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “What are you doing to Sky? Hasn’t he been spellbound enough by them?”

“If he’s going to stare, he might as well introduce himself.” Warrior adds with no shame in his voice. “I’m just giving him the push he needs.”

“Is that so?” The Vet starts stalking towards the two of them. Sky can feel his impending doom descend upon him.

“Legend, not you too!” He begs.

It’s futile. The two of them push and borderline carry him to where you are and plop unceremoniously in front of you. His footing is weird and he leans a little closer into your personal space than he’d like to and he overcompensates by throwing himself backwards, nearly tripping over Wolfie in the process.

You see everything. Naturally.

Link coughs and rights himself as fast as he can. He makes eye contact and freezes.

You freeze too.

Your eyes widen slightly and your jaw drops just enough to make your gaze as innocent and shocked as possible. Link thinks he sees your cheeks darken but perhaps he is projecting. His face is on fire as it is. The first time he gets to see you in full color, in person, in the flesh and he makes a total idiot out of himself.

He sticks his hand out. “Hi. My name is Link…”

They stare at him just as, if not, more so intently than he was staring at them. The awkward silence stretches on. They don’t react.

Link can feel himself growing more self conscious by the second. Was this how he wanted it to go? No. Was he given much of a choice? Also no.

Thankfully after another pregnant pause they also take his hand. It hangs loosely and limply, almost like a dead fish. It’s not something that Link wants to equivocate it with- but once the idea was in his head he found that he couldn’t fully get rid of it. He shakes it anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Link says and he realizes belatedly that he has no idea where he’s going with this. Think of something. Quick! “...I don’t think I caught your name.”

You blush and it takes his breath away.

He’s never been overly fond of the color red- even if it matches his loftwing but this? This is absolutely lovely. It’s the most perfect color for you. Link can’t think of anything else that would add to just how perfect you appear in his eyes.

You say your name and Link repeats it just as softly as you say it. It’s just as lovely to hear as it is to have it roll off of his tongue. Link smiles and shakes your hand, holding it gently within his grasp. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shy away curling in on yourself. At first he thinks that you’re afraid of him or that he’s done something wrong to make you uncomfortable- which is more than well deserved, a voice tells him in the back of his head. But instead you smile.

“Link…” You say his name at last. His heart begins pounding erratically. He can feel his smile widen as his eyes brighten.

Someone coughs from behind him and he’s doused with the cold reality that you’re not alone.

“We’re all named Link to be honest.” Four adds with a grin. “But we all have nicknames. Mine is Four or the Blacksmith or Smithy. I respond to all of them. This one right here is called Sky.”

Four smacks his side with the back of his hand. 

Link loses his nerve and steps aside. His eyes still follow you even though others have taken over the conversation. By the looks of it, you’re going to be traveling with them since you’ve been dragged along for the adventure.

It makes sense now that he thinks about it. If hadn’t joined this cause, this group, he would have never met you.

He’s been waiting this whole life for this opportunity. He knows that you don’t know him but he can get to know you, be your friend.

And maybe you’ll love him too someday.

#legend of zelda #lu sky #linkx reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #linked universe #i know they say to not tag both- but it's more like.... it's lu in foggy glasses #can literally be anytime or anywhere- nicknames travel

[sanctus-ingenium]

answering your asks vol 3

Full context for the Inprnt issue can be found here on this post , tl;dr my shop is closed until I receive my payments from inprnt in a timely manner and essentially won't reopen unless they clean up their act. Regarding the money they owe me outlined in that post, I still have not received it and on Friday I sent a support ticket in to inprnt demanding they send it soon. Haven't heard back since. I think where Inprnt is concerned, it's worth mentioning that they no longer send promotional emails (which used to be a regular occurrence) and there seems to be a complete lack of communication and the only thing about the site that regularly updates is the sale banner (ending soon!!! 🙄)

So honestly I'm of the opinion that the print on demand bubble has burst and that this method of selling art was a very short-lived feature of an internet that doesn't exist anymore. Think about it - I make money on a sale after having spent nothing on promotion, on materials, on postage fees, etc. It's so easy to game the system using bots or stolen art to essentially print free money that I'm shocked it even lasted as long as it did. Maybe I'm wrong but I won't tie myself to another print on demand service that's just going to pull the same old shit redbubble and inprnt have done this year, or one that requires me to constantly promo it like some kind of influencer on instagram or tiktok or whatever.

Will prints come back? I hope so. I am looking into local printing shops and considering the feasibility of handling the process myself but you must understand that if I do that, the price will rise. I won't have the ability to run constant discounts or eat a loss if I order 20 prints and only 7 sell. It is what it is.

And the actual worldbuilding asks below the cut lol:

(referring to this post)

Only if you want to! I've had a few people send me cool sketches and stuff via dms and it's always nice to see but you really shouldn't feel pressured to. After all it's not like I post my rough practice here lol (that goes on patreon ;)

-

I'm going to be SO real with you right now - I did not consider that at all. However I do know that tinting flames with various chemical compounds was a huge part of alchemy, part of the whole flashy show of it to impress the layperson. So sure, I bet they do throw in copper sulfate or various other chemicals to produce the coloured flames - these make a huge impression on witnesses who might not even have imagined such a thing possible, and also help identify a holy beast at a distance on a battlefield choked with smoke and dive-bombing serpents.

Fun fact, the flames come from the furnace wells, right. Each well is connected to specific systems, where it can most efficiently deliver fuel to the heart and onwards. So it is possible to 'read' the pattern of flame bursts from the furnace slits - they are not constant, but there'll be one every few seconds based on when the furnace tenders excite each well. You can tell at a distance, for example, that Leun is readying an acid spray, or rerouting power to the rear legs for a leap, or even what direction he's turning. It all runs at a slight delay, which is why the crew inside has to be SO closely coordinated.

-

@absolutely-flabbergasted Knights are allowed to reproduce but not marry, because it's sort of accepted theory that blood relatives of a knight will be 'accepted' by the knight's beast when the time comes. This is not true but it means that sometimes the knight's apprentices are their own children. The other parent is mostly another member of the church and usually not identified or considered important (unless they're a smith...). There are usually a decent number of known knight bastards running about.

Smiths are not allowed to have families or marry, because their first devotion should be to their art or their beast if they are assigned to one. If one tries, the kids are taken away, anonymised with new names, and put into the pool of potential novices in some other stable. Now, in reality some stables or churches are just not that strict and have a slightly different culture, so there's often an Open Secret about some master smith's illegitimate family or a priest's secret mistress. This is tolerated by the authorities to a certain degree but if it becomes too rampant there'll usually be a change of management and some sort of crackdown.

Families who give up their second born cannot stay in contact, but if the child becomes successful in some way (say, if the child becomes a knight) the families are sent tokens symbolising this which can be placed in the family/village shrine. This can be a huge point of pride, with some people faking the tokens just so that they can show off about their successful kids that are totally knight apprentices.

The reason they don't get to stay in touch with their children is due to the secretive nature of the church and its arts. The church has been at war with the neighbouring nations for a long time and only its mastery of engine work has kept it afloat, and nobody wants these secrets to fall into enemy hands. Particularly if your kid goes on to become a scribe, which is if anything an even more closely guarded profession than that of a knight (those engine diagrams don't draw themselves). The laity are usually quite devout and understanding of this. If they aren't, they might attempt to find their child, often without success.

If you want your church kid back: it depends. If you can prove to the church authorities that you need your child's labour to stay afloat or to carry on the family line, they might take that into consideration. Of course, the only children that return are the likes of sweepers, cleaners, altar boys, pages, etc. Nobody who might have witnessed any Secrets. The church is best understood as being in the middle of a cold war for the past few centuries (and sometimes just regular war) so it's far more closely guarded.

-

@kicks-tiktaalik-back-into-water

It's not likely. Even if the ventilation system worked perfectly, he is still from an older generation of holy beasts and no longer represents the pinnacle of the technology. Leun might have a less sophisticated ventilation system but everything else about him is head and shoulders more advanced - including the crew number he can take on. Leun only requires a single enginesmith in the heart, for example. This is because there's more automation of his systems, and he can actually manage to walk home from battle without anybody inside at all, just based on the knight's input (because the throne chamber is open to the air the knights are technically not inside the beasts). It's not preferable (it can damage the systems) but it is a huge bonus.

Think about how in the early days of commercial aviation, there could be as many as eight people working on the flight deck. In the 60s, a 3-person crew was standard; captain, first officer, and flight engineer. Today there are only two pilots needed. This is down to increased automation, and it means that it is cheaper to fly the plane - the airline has to hire fewer pilots, 'flight engineer' is a nonexistent role these days, and that means you need to train fewer people, have fewer people on call, feed fewer people etc etc. It is cheaper for the church to run Leun than it is to run Krokodilos and even though the church is wealthy, the money and resources are not infinite. Especially now, in times of plague. Leun, for all everybody sings his praises, is basically a reskinned Pantera with better systems - again, cutting costs, because now we can get all of Pantera's old enginesmiths to work on him instead of having to train up new ones on a brand new and wholly unique platform. It's as much a matter of logistics as it is innovation and technology.

#info asks #setting: mez #fun asks this time round .. thank you everyone <3

[ruiniel]

Another Way - X

Summary: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what’s more they can’t understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, References to Depression, First Meetings, character-meets-world, Near Death Experiences, References to loss, Grief/Mourning, Fantasy, POV Second Person, Language Barrier, Violence, Portal Fantasy, Isekai, Slow burn, References to Canon, Rewriting show canon, Because why not, POV Alucard, Assault, Mild Gore, More tags to be added

Also on ao3

AN:

When Adrian speaks here, we assume it's in his native language for now, even if the words are in English.

Reminder this is an M-rated fic. This chapter contains depictions of violence and abuse. Heed the latest tags.

X.

Commissioner Arvan Trent sighs, removes his glasses and rubs his face vigorously with his palms before looking back at the photographs spread over his desk.

He’s seen many things in his twenty-year-long career of service. Many appalling, despicable things; he’s seen and experienced the full breadth of human cruelty and debasement, the lengths the mind can go to, stretched beyond sense, trampling on reason. He’s thrown more assholes behind bars than he can remember and how he wishes he could forget it all, sometimes. Wipe the slate clean, and move away. Unfortunately for him, this is his calling and always has been.

“But this takes the fucking cake…” Arvan mumbles to himself, one large square hand paging through the visual documentation of the crime scenes in the Black Hill area.

Two victims. So far. No connection to each other based on identification and initial background checks. Both ravaged beyond recognition, and even his stomach turned at the sight of dribbling innards carelessly spread around one of the bodies, like some grotesque wreath of pungent, rotting flowers. 

The one aspect both crimes had in common? The cruelty of the disembowelment and the same signature injuries which likely led to a fast, brutal death. For the life of him, he can’t attribute what he’s looking at to any living man or beast that he knows of.

Motive? None that can be identified, or none that makes sense, as of yet. The victims were at a considerable distance from one another. There were no manner of weapons found, no inconsistencies or any details to suggest a staging of the scene, either.

“Commissioner?” 

“Hari,” Arvan greets, nose still in the papers as the door to his office opens, then closes behind the young detective.

A folder is placed on his desk. “The coroner’s report,” the new arrival says.

“Thanks, Hari,” Arvan reaches for the contents and begins to page through.

“Hari.”

“Yes, commissioner?”

“I know they’re not prone to error, but the time of death of each victim seems awfully close to one another.”

“I asked the same—but this is what they came back with.”

“In that case, the only thing I can think of is that we’re talking two or more maniacs in cahoots because there’s no way one person can travel that distance and murder two people so fast by mauling.” He reads. “Cause of death of our victim number one, found on the side of the road: trauma from multiple fractures and vital organ punctures. Not a revelation, but good to know.”

“... there’s something else,” Hari says as Arvan turns the page.

“Of course, there is,” the commissioner mumbles, eyes skimming over each report; a dull headache intensifies. No indications of sexual assault, toxicology report came back negative for both victims. He reads on. “... the blood has been near completely drained from the body, likely in a matter of seconds.” He looks up at the detective. “It makes no fucking sense… it almost seems…”

“Random?” Hari supplies helpfully, pouring himself a cup of precinct coffee. 

Arvan falls back in his chair with another deep, tired sigh. “Not only that, but I’ve got our esteemed state officials halfway up my ass already about this. They don’t want to instill a panic or even a whiff of a potential serial killer on the loose to the public, not with the damn elections on the horizon.” 

Hari snorts, one familiar with the politics behind all such matters.

“...  and I’ve got not one, but potentially multiple incredibly savage perpetrators out there, and as a starting point…”

“Well, here’s where I have some good news, Commissioner.” 

Arvan blinks. “Don’t keep me twisting my knickers here in suspense Hari, you’re always enjoying it too much. Spill it.”

“There’s exhibit A,” Hari raises a transparent evidence bag containing what appears to be a small, round object of a yellow sheen.

“That looks like a coat button, Hari.”

“Precisely.”

“You have a coat button for me as a starting point.” 

“Many have started on less,” Hari arches a rich brown eyebrow, tilting his chin upward. 

If Hari weren’t one of his best, Arvan would have long lost his patience by now. Instead, he groans. “That’s true.” He taps a finger against his desk. “...and?”

“And, there’s something peculiar about this particular button. It’s gilded, you see. With gold.”

Arvan whistles. “Fine, you got me. Where was it found?”

“Not far from the roadside murder site.”

“Very good. Run the works on it.”

“In addition to this,” Hari continues, “we’ve checked on all the cabins in Black Hill. As you know, the forest is a popular retreat area.”

Arvan straightens in his chair. “Was there anyone in, during the time the murders were committed?”

Hari nods. “The investigation out on the field is still in progress, but so far we know of a few, as the road tracks also proved.”

“Well, Hari, forgive my tired snappishness. Call me grateful,” Arvan grumbles, paging through another forensic report. “Let’s get a hold of the owners, bring them in. The sooner we get through a first round of questioning, the better.”

~~

The lights are much too bright; a white, perfunctory light that has him blinking rapidly and makes his eyes water. 

He’s standing here, alone, doing his best to block the noise rising around him like a murder of restless crows: the sounds from the outside, of the rapidly moving vehicles, as you’d called them. The chatter of the people all about him, but worst of all: the high-frequency noise that surrounds him, which seems to be everywhere though others have no issue with it, one he must constantly bar from his consciousness just so he can think. 

Adrian takes in his surroundings, garnering the details of this place. He sees many people—some appearing lost, others resigned; he sees the mark of years and hardship on one face, the signs of rage or hunger on another. 

Why would you bring him here? Is this some sort of refuge, a retreat for the dispossessed? All he has are assumptions and fragments of memories.

At first, he recalled nothing more than rage and grief, the world spinning, and then: your face. He only knows one fact with absolute, desperate certainty: he does not belong here.

If only he could remember where he ought to be. He plays with the rings on his hand—one, larger than the other, spins easily on his finger.

Adrian remembers the year stamped on the calendar in your dwelling, and though what he’s seen so far makes sense that it would be so, he still wallows in disbelief.

He cannot blame you, for wanting to be rid of one such as he—your kindness he will not forget, though the sudden manner of your decision did affect him, giving rise to a familiar feeling: that of being shunned for being… for being who he is.

He clenches his fist to his chest, golden brows frowning as he tries, again and again, to remember. He reminisces on one recent night in that forest, though how he cannot tell: wet earth beneath his feet; brambles hissing and scratching at his body; the howling of a wolf, all lost in a nether of thought, and it is as if a dark veil has been cast over his mind.

“Watch it, boy!” an old man bumps into him just then, and he loses his balance—

You are much too troublesome for your worth!

A voice, a similar growl, arising from that same nether. It makes his head hurt, the sensation close to bursting his brain. He sways to one side.

“Excuse me, sir?” 

Through a haze, Adrian sees a woman standing before him, holding papers.

“We have some more forms we’ll need you to fill in,” she follows, and Adrian merely stares. He cannot comprehend her words though he tries, he tries but does not yet have a grasp of the full breadth of the language English has become.

“Sir,” she insists, “...are you unwell? Should I call a medical professional?”

The high-frequency racket around him increases, and Adrian turns sharply away, one pale hand finding purchase against a wall. Unable to stay here a moment longer, he casts not a look back at the woman and her repeated questions, not minding her calling after him; all he sees is the door, the door to the outside.

The way is shut.

“... Who are you?” he growls at himself once he's out on the sidewalk, shaking his head, taking a ragged intake of filthy air: it appears technological advancements have done no favors to the natural world humans used to inhabit, for there is scarcely any sign of it, here. Instead, electricity runs their lives now, by all accounts, from what he’s seen. 

He wades through the throng of strangely clad people, directionless, craving solitude to try, as countless times before, to recollect; to find those traces of himself that are missing, leaving him incomplete; his garments are not of this era, neither is he. There is something awful coming, something he must fight against, something he must return to.

When he’d fended off your attackers that night in the alley, one piece of this dreadful joke of a puzzle had fallen into place—his reflexes came naturally under threat, and so did his strength and agility. Their display, however, despite having done something he deemed necessary at that moment, seemed to affect you more than you were willing to admit. It showed in your eyes, your entire bearing: a new wariness of him, which likely contributed to your decision of abandoning him in that… that…

Adrian shakes his head. 

Adrian. That is my name. 

He stares at the cars speeding past, and the gray-tinted skies of evening.

I am… I am a soldier. I should not be here. 

Rain falls, drenching his coat and hair.

I know not where to go.

~~

“What do you mean, gone?” you ask the shelter employee, the agenda under your arm.

“You are asking about the tall young man you’ve brought in, wearing the long black coat? He simply walked out of here. He ignored any attempts to finish up his submission. He… didn’t look so good, if I’m being honest.”

Great. “...and you just let him— ugh,” you close your eyes, “Thank you. Do you… know how long ago he left? Or in which direction?”

The woman thinks as your guilt mounts. “... about twenty or thirty-odd minutes ago? I followed him outside, but nothing I said reached him. It was as though he couldn’t hear me. He took a right from here.”

You nod, and not wasting any time, run outside and start the car. 

Why are you doing this? He’s not your problem, you repeat, but still, you gaze left and right, searching, hoping you’ll spot him, at least to know he’s all right.

You’re worrying over a potential murderer.

You don’t know that. You’d given in to your natural fear of the unknown, and hell knows that nowadays, it’s more than justified.

Still. Something about him doesn’t strike you as one who would intend to maliciously hurt others, or take pleasure in doing so. And his confusion, his distress, had been nothing if not authentic through all the time you’d spent with him.

First things first— find him. And then, you’ll see.

“Come oon… come on.” Adrian is surely hard to miss in a crowd; and he can’t have gone that far, right? 

~~

He walks the empty streets, sees warm, rising steam from apertures placed in the ground here and there. This area of dwellings seems more decrepit than others, but somewhere, there surely must be a place for him, at least until he resolves to remember. 

There are rows of women to one side of the street, dressed in garments he can only describe as provocative; they stare languorously at him, inviting him with their eyes, but neither approach. 

Adrian walks ahead, his tall figure drenched in red and green neon lights. He hears, then sees a struggle: what appears to be a frail person, trying to escape the grasp of one that strikes her repeatedly, even as she cries and kneels, her arms crossed above her head. 

Frowning, Adrian draws near; a part of him is disgusted, for she is significantly smaller than her assailant; another part cannot stay away, and with the high-pitched noises ringing in his ears he walks faster, crying out towards the scene.

“... the fuck do you want? Stay out of this,” the man spits as the woman tries to crawl away from him, but he drags her back. 

Without a word, Adrian rushes forward, reaches and grasps his arm; twists, and through the screaming that ensues, he hears another burst of long, deafening sounds. 

Palms to his ears, he falls to his knees as a white vehicle with shifting blue and red lights stops not too far from the scene, and barely he catches sight of the woman fleeing one direction, while her attacker flails, wailing and choking and nursing his broken arm.

“What do we have here…” a man and a woman emerge from the vehicle, dressed in something resembling a uniform.

“I ain’t done nothing, officer, I swear, this guy jumped me and broke my arm, oh god…”

Adrian rises, shaking and confused by the strong, blinding lights.

“I want you to go down on your knees, turn around, put your hands behind your head, and interlock your fingers,” the man orders.

Whatever is happening, Adrian can surmise it will not go in his favor. He waits. 

“Hey,” the man repeats, both he and the woman reaching and pointing an object at him; a weapon, he assumes. “I repeat, get down on your knees, put your hands behind your head, and interlock your fingers!” he speaks, louder this time. They carefully approach as Adrian takes slow steps back. If these are the equivalent of a city guard, the last he wants is to be apprehended by them.

He must escape. He must—

~~

A sharp, deafening shriek. The feeling of dispersing into nothingness, and finding himself on the hard concrete ground. His arms tremble as he props them against the sidewalk, his chest heaving, and the air will not reach. He cannot move; it’s as though he’s used his entire energy, all his strength. He looks upward, and in a stupor, sees legs rushing toward him.

“Adrian, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

He knows that voice. He sees… 

You. Here? 

“...What are you doing here?” he asks weakly in his own tongue, slow to rise and making his way ahead; there is no sign of the red and blue lights or the city guard, but they are surely not far behind.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but come on, I’m with the car,” you walk alongside him for a few moments, then turn away.

He hurries on shaking legs, heedless of your words. He cannot look at you. 

“Adrian—” you rush back to the car and soon you're there again, driving alongside him. “What happened? You look awful. Get inside, I can drive you back to my place so you can rest.”

“Whatever you are saying is lost on me, as you know,” Adrian mutters. “But I will be your burden of pity no longer,” he murmurs, carrying on as you continue to drive by his side.

“... You sound upset. I get it. But please, don't be stubborn about this.” A sigh. “I’m… I’m sorry, all right?” 

He senses the frustration in your voice. When he senses the plea, he finally looks your way. 

“I’m sorry for ditching you there,” you say, “I shouldn’t have dumped you somewhere, just like that. I was… I got scared, I… I have your agenda, look, see?” you wave the book Adrian used to write on. 

He feels somewhat thankful for it.

This back-and-forth goes on, for about two blocks. You seem to be relentless in your pursuit, and he is tiring.

“...please, will you just get inside the car?” you ask again, and whatever he hears in your voice, along with the sheer exhaustion in his limbs, permeating his heart, pushes him to capitulation.

Adrian stops in his tracks and turns towards the car; gazing long at the opening door, then at you, and the honest relief on your face.

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part XI

Taglist: @hornyf0ckers @drag0n-mistr3ss @pencildrawer12

Want to be added to the taglist for updates? Let me know.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#alucard castlevania x reader #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard x you #adrian tepes x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #x reader #reuploading part X because of finger-malfunction #sorry for the new @ peeps on the taglist #ruiniel:fanfiction #another way

[stonegearstudios]

Creating a MegaDungeon

So, for a few weeks now, thanks to RPPR, I've been thinking about MegaDungeons as interesting conceptual spaces. It started with Stonehell, but I've been looking at other ones like Highfell, Tomb of 1000 Doors, I backed a Kickstarter called Ave Nox... And unsurprisingly (for me) I started thinking about how I would make one. The guiding thought was "What if you made a MegaDungeon, a constrained and connected space, both above ground and without walls?" From that idea has come 'The Eye of the Storm'

The basic concept is this

Off the coast of a certain area is a storm, a massive, violent hurricane that reaches up through the atmosphere, out of sight.

The storm has been there for as long as anyone can remember, as long as history records, never moving, never shrinking.

The Storm is eternal.

Likewise, it is unknown who exactly first breached the Stormwalls by using powerful magic to briefly calm the winds, but what they found within has become common local knowledge.

Floating islands, suspended on thin air, cocooned in the eye of the storm, rising up. On those islands were ruins of an unknown make, but also strange plants and dangerous creatures. The most dangerous of all being the Elementals that seemed to infest the place.

Over the years many groups have been drawn to the storm. Adventures have breached it in search of treasure and strange mystical reagents, Harpies and other flying creatures considered monstrous have flocked here to roost, and wielders of powerful magic came to study the forces that maintain the vortex.

But none have ever reached Summit, eternally out of reach.

Will you?

So yeah, that's the basic premise of the dungeon. Floating islands inside a eternal storm, progression through the dungeon is like the ascent of a dangerous mountain in some aspects.

The main thought was, most dungeons and MegaDungeons are underground, so could you do the opposite, one where you are under the light of day, exposed to all manner of weather, and where you could physically see in the distance the other levels you were yet to get to?

That also raised the question of how to map out the placement of the floating islands? Eventually I came up with a potential model in Blender

Yes, it looks nonsensical at first, but it's really just a reference for me. The Outline Boxes represent a potential space where a island could be on the 9 layers of the dungeon, while a Green Sphere represents the presence of an island in that space. That way I can remember the positioning of them all in relation to each other and figure out the connections between them.

So far I've got a loose idea of the one at the top and am working on the one at the very bottom, likely the first island any PCs would land on (and the only one that's not floating).

Lot of work to go and I've still got to figure out things like how i'm going to map the islands (I can't draw) and what system I should build the encounters around.

#rpg #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #dungeon #megadungeon #fantasy #flying island #floating island #ttrpg community #adventure #adventure creation

[allinthemagicshop]

We'll Fix This

I'm new to posting my writings so be gentle please.

FelixSKZxF!Reader

Angst, no warnings (I don't think, let me know if there should be for future reference)

This is a complete work of fiction originally written for a friend, I do not own rights to anything about Stray Kids. This is just a fun pastime for me.

Falling in love with someone is the easy part. The feeling of letting yourself slip into the comfort of someone’s presence and finding a new home within them takes little effort. Smiling at every interaction with someone is effortless. Recognizing their little mannerisms as endearing qualities is a breeze. Loving yourself more when they build you up is second nature. Smothering each other in love is like breathing. Realizing that the little things you fell in love with are now constantly irritating you is the hard part. It’s been 3 years since you and Felix started dating and loving him was the easiest thing you’ve ever done. Until it wasn’t.

Another comeback, another tour, and another period of repeating that “distance makes the heart grow fonder” to get through it. Only this time, you don’t have the belief behind those words. The last couple of days before a tour are always spent together, cuddling and promising that your love will keep this relationship going. Felix had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist while you threaded your fingers through his hair. Something was definitely different this time, he’s never held you this tight. Too nervous to say anything, you focus on the show you two had decided to finish together. 

“Babe…can we talk?” Felix mumbled against your side, not taking his eyes off the screen. Your hands dropped to your side at his tone. He noticed immediately, yet instead of reassuring you like he has so many times before, he pulled away. “Something has changed,” he looked down at his hands, spinning the rings around his fingers. You couldn’t even form a sentence as you felt your heart harden against what was coming. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew it was coming. The past two months have been filled with more fights than the entire last 3 years. Every time Felix wanted to be cuddly, you would stiffen and find excuses to busy yourself away from him and vice versa.  He would lock himself in the office to play games with Jeongin and Seungmin rather than having the door open for you to lay on the office couch reading or mindlessly scrolling in his presence. Baking nights were nonexistent nowadays. If he wanted to bake, he’d go back to the dorms with the other guys and rarely brought any home back to you. You made elaborate dinners for date nights that would go cold long before he texted that he wouldn’t be home that night as practice had run later or he was going out with the guys. 

Instead of working in tandem, it seemed as if you both were working around each other at opposite poles. 

You had attempted to text Changbin what was going on, only for him to reply with short, uninterested responses saying he didn’t know what you meant. Similar responses came from Hyunjin and Chan. So you stopped asking. He pulled away first and you would return the sentiment. It took about two weeks before Felix started asking your friends if you were okay, only to be met with unanswered or indifferent texts in return. You began canceling date nights in favor of working more or going out with friends instead. Again, another week before he tried asking why you kept canceling. 

The fight that followed landed you where you are now. Always one to resort to physical affection, Felix suggested a silent cuddle night to repair the hurtful words thrown at each other. It was about as expected, tense silence and too many unshared thoughts.

“Felix. Do we even need to talk anymore? You leave in two days again, that gives you a full day to set yourself back into who STAY expect.” He turned his head to you quickly, eyes widening in fear. “I’m not blind, I know something has changed. I tried to tell myself it was just the stress of a new album and tour, but that excuse only goes so far. When your own members start shutting me out with you, it’s a pretty clear sign,” you finished with a forced chuckle. “Although, I am a little disappointed you couldn’t just tell me that your love had faded weeks ago, rather than try to string me along until you could just leave and let it fully fizzle out with the tour as an excuse not to talk to me.” 

Felix fell to the ground in front of you on the couch. “No, no, baby, no. No please you don’t understand, just give me a second to explain. I promise-”

“Promise what? That you didn’t mean to pull out of this relationship? That you didn’t notice the hundreds of texts you’ve left unanswered or the dozens of dates you’ve ditched on? Or how about that you didn’t have me in mind the past two months in any of this?” You swipe your hand under your eyes harshly as you watch his face fall and tears build up.

“Love, don’t do this to me. I had so many things going on since we started this comeback, I didn’t know how to function properly. The boys are just as stressed, please believe me,” he sniffled the last part out, tears falling onto your knees as he knelt over them. He tried to grab onto your hands, but you pulled them back. 

“Felix I-” “No. No stop with the ‘Felix.’ You never call me that. Please, baby. Come back to me.” You just shook your head. “Felix,” you watched as his heart broke in his eyes, you were already gone, he was sure of it. “I can’t do this anymore. We’ve had plenty of comebacks and the last extended tour that we made it through. With communicating. Not by shutting each other out. I’m not going to sit and listen to excuses for you to rationalize why you have been treating me so badly recently. God, Felix, we used to be so good. Until you stopped trying. I don’t think I can listen to the excuses right now. I’m going to head to Yeji’s, please be gone when I get back.” You stood up and grabbed your keys and wallet, brushing past him to get to the door, not even looking back to see him stare after you as the door on your relationship closed with a soft click.

Felix sat there on your floor sobbing, staring after you for nearly 30 minutes before he realized you were right about one thing. He had one day to get himself ready for STAY, but also one day to figure out how this tour was going to fix him so that he could come back to you. Taking a minute to collect himself, he ran through your apartment and gathered all his things he kept at your place. He took off the hoodie he was wearing and buried it deep in your closet, hopeful that you’ll find it when needed, even more hopeful that these next three months on tour would selfishly not be enough time for you to move on. He put the spare key you had given him on the counter before he walked out of your life.

●●●

You walked into your apartment after spending nearly four hours crying into Yeji’s arms. You put up a good front for Felix, hoping that it would make it easier for him to move on if he thought you agreed with his recent feelings. The truth is that you felt like someone had punched into your chest and pulled your heart out. Complete numbness settled over your body as the ache in your chest kept blossoming further out, fogging your mind. You convinced yourself that the pleas from Felix were just for your benefit, not to truly save the relationship. If he had wanted that, he wouldn’t have pulled away months ago with no words or warnings. 

The ache in your chest bloomed into full searing pain when you spotted the spare key on your counter. Running through the apartment, you noticed everything that tied Felix to you was gone. He truly had wanted this, no matter how loudly the little voice in your brain had tried to tell you it was another overreaction on your part. Holding your hand over your mouth, you looked around your bedroom, noticing even his plushies he’d bought you had gone with him. You didn’t even make it to your bed before your legs gave out and sobs tore through your body.

●●●

Felix stepped into the dorm, barely getting the door closed before he fell to the ground, head in his hands. He couldn’t even cry anymore, just shake and feel his heart rip to shreds. He had done this. He knew that you didn’t want this, he could always read you so well, but he wasn’t going to hurt you anymore if he couldn’t fix himself.

Lino poked his head out of the kitchen after he heard the front door click shut. One look at the younger member had him throwing the utensils onto the counter and running to the front entrance. He nearly slid across the floor to grab onto Felix as the younger boy shook. “Yongbok, what happened? Are you hurt? Did you call Chan? SEUNGMIN, GET CHAN HERE NOW. Shhhh, I’ve got you. Talk to me, Felix, you’re scaring me.” The younger boy could only shake his head as he buried himself deeper into the arms of his friend. The other younger members ran in after the shouts, Seungmin already with his phone dialing their leader. When they laid eyes on one of their best friends broken in the entrance, Jeongin began crying and walked over to the scene while Seungmin locked his jaw and told Chan to get to the dorm as soon as possible with the other members, hanging up without explanation.

It was only 20 minutes later that the other four boys burst in, the eldest looking around for the fire, only to be met with an even more heart shattering scene: Lino rocking Felix back and forth on the couch as Jeongin sat beside him rubbing his back with Seungmin gently murmuring to him from his position on the floor in front of the trio. 

“What happened? Who’s hurt? Sick? Someone tell me what the hell is happening?” Chan rushed over to the group, kneeling next to Seungmin while the others looked on, wide eyed, starting to tear up at the sight. 

“I- I lost her. I screwed up. I don’t know what I was think- thinking. It hurts so bad, Channie. I feel like I’m drowning,” Felix sobbed as he pulled out of the tight embrace he’d been held in. “You guys didn’t help. Why did none of you talk to her? Why did none of you tell me she was asking about me? Why didn’t you guys warn me? Why- why did I let this happen?” He broke down again as Chan shifted into Lino’s spot, pulling Felix into him.

“Hey, hey. Shhh, you have to tell us what’s going on. Is it y/n? Did you fight? What are we a part of? Felix, I need you to talk to me, yeah?” Chan was rubbing his younger friend’s back, looking at the rest, questions and tears in everyone’s eyes. 

Felix pulled back before wiping his nose, Chan reaching up and rubbing the tear stains off his face, looking the younger one in the eyes. “I was so stressed about this comeback, this tour, continuing to be better for STAY. I lost myself, became obsessed with perfecting everything, perfecting our chemistry for STAY. She said she reached out to some of you, but was ignored by you guys too. We left her alone. Alone to think that I was done with her. Never even explained my obsession with this comeback. I lost myself, and I lost y/n in the process. I don’t know what is so different this time. I didn’t even get to tell her that JYPE was giving us the opportunity to go public. It slipped my mind. Another tack on my obsession with being perfect this time so that she would be protected. She’s been with me through so much already, and when it was finally time to take the next step, I took twenty backwards, away from her. I need to fix this. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t have time to fix this. I love her so much, it hurts so bad. Who am I without her? Will I lose STAY next? She still only thought of me when she called it off, saying she was going to give me a day to get myself ready for STAY. She still looked out for me, thinking I had already given up on her. I couldn’t even get her to stop before she walked out. She walked out, trying to make it easier. It wasn’t easier. It’s my fault. Help me, please. Help me fix this. I want to make STAY proud, but I need her back. Help me.” Felix cut himself off, sobbing again. The others stared, open-mouthed and silent. 

Hyunjin pulled his phone out to look through texts between him and y/n, noticing for the first time how he had come across in his own obsession with perfecting himself for the tour. He turned to Changbin, who was silently crying while already staring at his own phone.”We did this. We left her alone,” Changbin whispered, voice cracking. Hyunjin just shook his head, disbelief coursing through his veins. 

“Lix, look at me. Please,” Chan gently pulled the younger one away from him, grabbing his chin to direct him to look in his eyes. “We have to focus on this tour and give our best. We owe it to ourselves and the hard work we’ve put in. We owe it to STAY. But we WILL fix this. I have a plan. The bag by the door, that’s your stuff from her place, yeah?” Felix nodded, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Okay, good. We’ll need it. We will fix this, Lix. I promise you. You aren’t losing her, none of us are.” Chan looked around the group, noticing the tears in all their eyes at the thought of y/n no longer being a part of their lives after so long. He was going to fix this, not just for his brother, but for his dear friend he had found in y/n, for his members.

●●●

The tour began. Felix shaky behind the scenes, powerful on stage. They were leaving Seoul for the first leg of overseas concerts. A package arrived on your doorstep the day they left, pictures and one of the many plushies Felix had gifted you. A note sat on top. Y/n, I’m so beyond sorry for what happened. We got obsessed and none of us checked each other. You mean so much to all of us, to Felix. Please, I want to help you through this. I want to help Felix. This is where it starts. We’re all sorry. -Chan. You put the box in a corner of your closet, unable to look through the pictures.

The next flight was a couple days later. Along with it came another package. Hey, darling. I know we haven’t spoken in a while. That’s on me. I’ll be better, we’ll all be better. Take care, remember to eat and sleep well -Your favorite Cat Man. More pictures, another plush, and a bracelet the boys had gotten you for you first Christmas with them, the clasp fixed. You rolled your eyes, placing the new package with the other one.

A week later, another flight, another package. Sweet girl. I am so sorry. I let myself get caught up in the members and the practices and the new songs. That’s no excuse to have let you down in the process. He misses you so much. We all do. - Your muscle boy, Binnie. Again, another one of the plushies but this time a brand new necklace, obviously from Changbin, along with a new purse you had mentioned one of the last times you were with the boys. You felt your heart tug a little more as you hesitantly set the package on top of the other two. Closing the door, this time resting your head against the cool wood as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Expecting it this time, you rushed into the apartment with the new package. This time you couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face. A painting of a beautiful flower field greeted you, this time with three of the plushies. Lovely y/n. I miss you. I missed you before we left, but I didn’t act on it. I’m forever going to be sorry that I let you slip away when I got carried away. When we get back, we’re going on a painting date again. I miss our jokes and your laughter. I want to fix all of it. Yours, Hyunjinnie. A tear slid down your face. It’d been a month since you walked away from Felix. It hasn’t gotten any easier. You set the package on your coffee table, walking to your room to grab the other three. You sat staring at them, chewing your bottom lip as you debated what to do. Ultimately, you walked into your bedroom, leaving them on the table. 

A couple weeks later, you were again greeted with a package. Opening it slower this time, you felt your heart rate pick up as all kinds of snacks from different countries greeted you, nearly drowning the two plushies at the bottom. My lovely honey girl! I suck. STAYs would say “predebut Han came out” and they wouldn’t be wrong. You mean so much to all of us. I did have to steal some of the snacks from Flour boy. I hope you enjoy them all, tell me your favorites when we get back. Hannie. You rubbed at your eyes, missing them all more than you can express. You pulled out the notes from all the packages so far. Heading into your bathroom, you stuck them all to your mirror. Gazing at yourself, finally noticing the dark circles under your eyes. You walked back to the living room, gathering all the plushies in your arms as you walked to your bedroom. You laid them all down on the bed before heading into your closet to find clothes to change into for a nap. While flipping through your sweatshirts, you finally noticed it. There in the back was the sweatshirt Felix had been wearing the last time you saw him. You grabbed it, feeling tears slip down your cheeks as you slipped it on. You slid on some random shorts you found and crawled into your bed, surrounded by the plushies of your relationship with Felix. You fell asleep with tears drying on your face, wrapped in the scent of the boy who meant the world to you, sleeping better than you have in weeks. 

With only one month left until the end of the tour, you got nervous for the next package. If they were following the pattern, it would be Felix’s turn. You slowed your walk when you spotted it at your door. Taking a deep breath, you walked into your apartment with the box tucked under your arm. You opened the box to a new book you had mentioned to Seungmin months ago. Your jaw dropped, and a weird wave of relief went through you. You hugged onto yet another plushie as you read the note. Hahahaha sorry that I’m probably not who you’re expecting. SEUNGMIN IN THE BUILDING!!! I do want to apologize to you. Y/n you are such an important part of our lives, and we got too caught up in ourselves and being perfect for STAY that we neglected you. I promise, if you take us back, that it will never happen again. -Puppy boy. 

The boys had been outstanding all tour. STAY were loving the shows, the boys were giving their all and then some. A cloud still hovered over all their hearts as none had received any word from you. Felix would go straight to bed after every show. It was a harder time each stop for Lino to keep him eating with the members instead of retreating to his room to scroll through all your photos together. Two more weeks remained until he would know if you truly had left him or not. The others were increasingly worried they weren’t going to get you back. 

Another package arrived. New shoes and a new phone case accompanied the plush this time. Cutie cutie it’s me! I miss you. Felix isn’t the same without you, none of us are. I’m worried about him, but I’m worried about you too. I miss our conversations on who’s concert fashion is the best (me, by the way). I want to take you shopping when we get back, if you will go with me. Baby bread. You sighed, you couldn’t stop the ache in your chest from coming back as you let yourself fully recognize how much you missed them all. Only a week remained in the tour. You pulled out all the photos from the first package. It was you and all the boys. There were some candids you had never seen, clearly taken during your many hang outs at the dorms. Many of your favorites with Felix were in there as well. Your heart swelled. You were fairly certain what your decision was going to be. 

A new package greeted you after a particularly hard day at work. Your heart sped up, knowing who it was. It was the last of the plushies Felix had gotten you over the course of your relationship, nothing more beyond the letter. I don’t even know where to start. One of our staff will have dropped this off only a day before we get back. Chan’s plan was so thorough. Each of the members have written an apology for how we all acted the last couple months before this tour. Accompanied by something of ours that I took back with me when I tried to give you as much space as possible by removing myself. It’s killing me, knowing that I hurt you so horribly. A sorry isn’t even enough, a thousand sorry’s won’t be enough. I royally screwed up. It’s no excuse that I let myself get too obsessed with being Stray Kids and getting everything perfect for this tour. I hope it goes well, as I’m writing this before we even leave. Everyone already has their extra gifts picked out except for Han, he wants to collect snacks from different places to send you. His package might be a little behind schedule, but Chan has it planned out to work anyway. I’m sure you noticed that I have nothing extra in here besides my words and the last of the plushies we’ve collected together. I do hope you’ve already found it and haven’t thrown it away or burned it. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. But I left my sweatshirt from that night in the back of your closet. It should still smell like me. I know how much trouble you have with sleeping, especially while I’m on tour. If you don’t hate my guts by now, maybe it will bring you some comfort. I love you, y/n. So much. Words don’t even come close to describing the way I truly feel about you. If you’ll have me, I want to be better for you. I know what I did, and I swear to you that I’ll be spending this entire tour working on myself so that I’m better for you. I’ll get strength from STAY. All the work I put in won’t be for nothing, especially if I lost you throughout this. It still won’t be worth losing you, but maybe I’ll drown myself in STAY’s love if I have to. I love you, endlessly, my beautiful star. - Yours always and forever, Lixie. Tears were streaming down your face as you put the letter down. You only gave yourself a few seconds before you throw yourself into action.

●●●

The boys walked off the plane, through the airport. The air crackled with excitement over how well the tour went. The cloud of anxiety still hung over them, but they were trying to block it out the best they could. As they walked towards the car to take them back to the dorms, they noticed one of their managers standing at an extra car. Trying to calm their heart rates down, Chan slowly walked over to the manager. “From y/n.” He gave Chan a gentle smile. 

Chan could almost feel his knees give out in relief. He hung his head and blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned to look at the rest of the boys. He couldn’t hide the wide smile that spread across his face, crinkling his eyes as he felt laughter bubble out. He ran over to Felix and shoved the small box into his hands. The rest of the members couldn’t hold back their tears of joy as Felix pulled the little ribbon off the top of the box. He looked at each of them, tears streaming down his face.

“No matter what, thank you all. What you did means the world to me, even if she doesn’t forgive me, forgive us, I love you all so much. Thank you.” Felix took a deep breath before he lifted the lid off. A tiny note was placed over something silver and shiny. He felt his knees give out as Changbin rushed forward to catch him. They all noticed the key at the same time and nearly sobbed in relief. Come back to me, I love you so much. “I- I’m going home. I’m going home!” Felix stumbled into the final car as the boys watched him head off to the love of his life, smiling until their cheeks hurt, tears slipping down all their cheeks as they realized they hadn’t lost two of their favorite people. 

#stray kids #skz x reader #skz angst #skz felix #kpop angst #kpop imagines #kpop

[v-3rg3]

smut as my first post, dear god what have i made- wip : [ m!prince x gn!assistant/reader - referred by they/them though written w/ m parts ] - pt 1/?

An uninterested prince sat on his throne, he paid no attention to the suitor before him as they hastily left much like the others that followed before them.

His gaze fell to his assistant beside him, he looked over their solemn expression to secretly wonder how it would differ if they were to show emotion. Either by the product of happiness or something else.

That was where the prince's thoughts wandered, allowing the images to linger. Fingers that caressed the edges of their lips. A hand that rested on the curve of their neck that craned down for a kiss.

The thoughts gave him a sudden excitement. Perhaps too much as it made his crotch suddenly stiffen.

The prince crossed his leg over the other before anyone could notice his erection as it pulled against the loose fabric. However his gaze remained on the assistant and it soon caught their attention.

"Yes, my liege?" They questioned.

Even as the prince had attempted to keep his thoughts in place, he couldn't help but let his gaze wander from their eyes to their lips. He flicked them back up before he got anymore careless.

"How many more princesses in the same dresses must I see until we are finished?" The prince asked in his usual childish manner, shifting in his position as his erection persisted. Unwilling to point out the tension that had unintentionally grown. It could either be translated as apprehension or just the prince's desire.

Even then, he didn't feel the need to risk to find out whether the other felt the same. His conscience may have been obscene at the moment but he wouldn't let his impulsivity win.

"Until you find one that suits you." The prince found their answer to be one he did not favour.

As the remaining thread of his morals thinned, he pointed in front of his throne, "Come here for a moment."

The assistant obeyed, standing in front of him.

"And how are you so sure that any of this will help?" The prince said, the tip of his shoe raised up. Up the assistant's leg and caressing near their inner thigh. "Perhaps I'd like something else rather than this."

The assistant's face remained blank for awhile until it flushed a red hue. A grin spread across his face, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Lightly tracing the shoe's tip a little higher just to tease them. Raising his hand up, holding their chin and turning their face back to him. "Well?"

They began, "This is a throne room —" Though the assistant's words swayed as the prince leaned forward, head tilted against theirs, barely any distance between their lips. "And?" Heated breaths fell against each other, gazes locked and communicated every thought without a word. "You want this as much as I do."

#writing #smut #writeblr #drabble-ish #oneshot #royal au #mlm #gn reader #x gn reader #m reader #male reader #prince x servant #prince #wip #unfinished

[wordycheeseblob]

Inspiration

Plot: Clavis feels like he hasn't made any progress. To create something inspiring, one must first be inspired, so he and Cyran venture into the unknown to find it.

Word count: 740

Featured characters: Clavis, Cyran

A/N: here's a short self-indulgent story for a friend, and part of my 100 Follower celebration why not

"Admit it we've been going in circles for hours ¨ Cyran who had been following quietly up until now sighed in defeat. "That's the second time I've seen that weirdly shaped branch"

"You're imagining things." Clavis was some distance ahead, bringing a hand to his face in a shielding manner, his eyes crinkling either from the afternoon sun or in an attempt to see something far away only he could see. "And what if you did? Just means we were on the right way twice. Definitely not lost. No way."

"Will you at least tell me what we're looking for? You know, for reference..."

Clavis laughed. "Even if I tell you, it's up to me to find it. No one else can"

"Which is..." The red head knight pressed on, all too familiar with Clavis' antics.

"Inspiration!" There was eagerness in his voice mixed with the tiredness of going uphill. The further they advanced, the steeper the path became until it disappeared completely, swallowed by the sun-burnt scrubs and high yellow grass that tangled at their feet, slowing down their journey into the unknown.

"You've got to be kidding me..." Cyran frowned. Unbelievable. Under the sweltering heat of a summer's day, when the sun was at its highest and shined the strongest, they were traveling through the highland looking for some intangible tangent. Knowing Clavis was to never take his word at face value, perhaps there was some other variable he wasn't letting on. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. "Anything else?" Cyran added cautiously.

"Naturally, some perspective would also come in handy"

The prince slumped on a rock, winded. "Think of it as a paid vacation"

Setting aside the massive backpack with travelling equipment, Cyran sat by his side.

"I rather not." He fished a flask of water from a compartment and offered it to Clavis. "Why not just give up? You've been going at it for days now. It's pointless without results."

"Goodness, you sound just like him," Clavis eyed the ripples in the water with distaste. "Maybe I have been going in circles..." That last part was hushed, almost a whisper, washed away by the water as he took another swig.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Up and let's get going. Success doesn't wait!" Almost as if nothing happened, Clavis sprang up and continued on his merry way, Cyran following suit reluctantly.

Clavis observed the dry landscape absentmindedly; the incessant song of crickets made it hard to concentrate. In truth, it felt so long since he made any real progress.

Everything he did, anything he tried... nothing would even come close to Chevalier. And he's been doing what he did for a long time now, but somehow, he felt stuck in one place. No matter how hard he tried to catch up to his brother, he always stayed ahead, out of reach. That bastard. Sometimes he even doubted if he did it for himself or because of his stupid brother. Of course, those days he reminded himself that he, Clavis Lelouch, was an artist at heart and the path of an artist was never an easy one. You didn't receive a diploma for becoming creative, and at most one could only be creative for their own pleasure.

In Clavis' mind, the road to artistic prowess was different to each individual. That's why it's an untold, unbeaten path. Something unique to oneself. Many gave up along the way, discouraged by the seemingly effortless mastery of others and dismayed by their own imaginary stagnation because there is no definite destination, the end never clear nor seen.

Maybe it wasn't the right time, the people were yet to understand the subtle nuance of his creations, but Clavis would never forfeit his craft. That's perhaps the one thing his brother could never take from him.

A soft breeze caressed his face, playing with the loose sleeves of his coat, tugging him out of the depth of his mind to the realization that they've reached the rocky top.

He contemplated the rolling plains in wonder. The sea of grass under the cloudless sky, the gentle play of small birds, soaring high above. After all, what other option was there. Give up? Clavis closed his eyes.

He'd never really learned the meaning of that word.

#ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen ouji #ikepri clavis #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch #cyran rose #ikepri cyran

[a-crow-ready-for-a-murder]

TOWARD HOME

Hey everyone, here's another twst fic. This time in 2nd person with the reader feels homesick and decides to visit nrcs wish granter. Hope you enjoy. Also I reference the readers mom as their familial contact and I know that isn't for everyone so I tried to keep it brief so you don't get taken out of the story.

If anyone were to confront you and ask what you were thinking, logically, you couldn’t answer. What lapse in judgment could have possibly led to the notion that this was a good idea?

Even if you wanted to answer, you probably couldn’t even look them in the eye, so with eyes trained on the floor you opened one of the doors to the underwater cafe. Perhaps you could say that you couldn’t see where you were, no one would question it upon seeing your swollen red eyes, still raw from a night of crying. Perhaps you could say you were sick and not thinking clearly, you certainly looked sickly as you wrapped your arms around yourself with each sluggish step. Monstro lounge wasn’t too busy, only a few regulars were scattered about. Amidst the tranquility you spotted two familiar figures standing by a hallway opening. Specifically the hall that led to the VIP room. You took one calming breath as you quickened your pace in their direction. Rather than give attention to disappearing nerve you focused on finding your voice that had been gone this morning. The distance between the door and the twins wasn’t as far as it had looked but before you could even croak out a word, the calmer of brothers, Jade, nodded towards the direction of the door in the middle of the hall. “He’s in his office.”

They knew why you were here. Of course they did. If nothing else the twins and their boss knew what a desperate soul looked like. Your voice was still absent as far as you could tell, so you nodded your thanks as you walked past them.

Your good sense may have abandoned you, but your manners certainly didn’t. Stopping in front of the dark, wooden door. One that for its simplicity, felt so ominous if you knew of the man on the other side of it. Looking back at the way you came, you took a brief moment to ask yourself if you wanted to do this. Although the chill in your spine tried to warn you to run, and the numbness in your legs wanted to hold you back from the room on the other side of the door, you steeled yourself and raised a shaky fist to knock.

The sharp noise of knuckles hitting wood echoed around you as you knocked three times and waited. When no response immediately came you began to wonder if you should try another time, more than likely though it was your fear finally starting to burrow its way into the forefront of your mind. ‘No’ you thought to yourself as you shook your head in hopes of clearing the sensation like some sort of etch and sketch. You were about to raise your hand to knock again when you heard a familiar baritone through the door “Come in.”

You realized then that it had only been a few seconds since your first knock. With another deep breath, you twisted the door knob, the quiet click gave way to the door swinging open slowly.

There he was. Hunched over his desk scribbling away at a pile of papers stacked high enough to be mistaken for a phone book. His glasses were perched near the end of his nose as the cerulean eyes behind them scanned page after page. His silver locks would move slightly as he flipped through the papers, framing his face as he frowned in concentration. The room itself was quiet with only the sound of his pen scratching paper, the light from the octopus shaped chandeliers illuminating the walls of bookshelves categorized alphabetically for the rows and rows of books that lined them. In the center of the room were 2 leather couches facing each other with a fish tank glass table between them, tied together by periwinkle carpeting.

Azul didn’t look up as you entered, and as you stood awkwardly in the doorway you found yourself watching his gloved hand glide over the papers. It almost looked like he wasn’t writing anything, just skimming over whatever was on the paper, if you were a bit more awake you might’ve squinted to see if he was but at the moment, you were just entranced by the motions.

“Close the door, please” his voice snapped you out of your trance

“Hm? Oh! Right, sorry” you stammer as you close the door behind you

He still hadn’t looked up when he spoke to you but after you closed the door he put down his pen next to the mountain of papers and rubbed his eyes. Even after closing the door you didn’t further enter the room, still feeling awkward about being there to begin with. Azul readjusted his glasses before looking at you curiously “Ah, prefect. What brings you here?”

“I, uhm….Well…” You hadn’t really planned out what your were going to say but you knew filling the room with dead air wouldn’t help the anxiety that was rapidly creeping up your neck. While you were trying to form your sentences, Azul seemed to study you, no doubt he recognised the exact kind of miserable state you were in and probably didn’t need an eloquent speech on what was bothering you, so with a small sigh you gave up on any sort of impressive wording and just came out with it. “I want to know if you can help me.”

Azul didn’t say anything for a moment. His face didn’t change but if you had to guess, you would probably say he was considering you. After the incident with his overblot you two were cordial enough, even after everything that had happened over winter break you still wouldn’t say you were friends, but as far as you knew there was no bad blood of any kind though no doubt he was still wary, just as he was with everyone. You weren’t hiding anything. You had no ulterior motive, or hidden agenda, you were just a sad soul who didn’t really have many options. Your friends couldn’t help you, the headmage wouldn’t help you, you even doubted Azul could help you but at this point you were more than willing to try.

After a moment Azul stood up from his desk and waved his hand in the direction of the couches. You nodded and went to sit down on the one closest to the door you came in from while Azul sat on the one across from you. “What can I do for you?” He asked

You fidgeted with your hands as you started to speak, your voice feeling like it was emerging from a hundred year sleep, “I’ve been here for months, and Crowley is supposed to be finding a way to send me home but….” you sighed and sat forward before continuing “Everyone is talking about break and seeing there families but I can’t even let mine know that I’m okay. And I get that it’s hard considering there’s no record of where I’m from but…it’s getting even harder to get through a day. I keep waking up hoping that maybe today I’ll wake up in my own bed and all this will be a weird dream but…” Azul listened silently as you spoke, his face remained impassive even as tears began to fill your eyes. You wiped them away and took a deep breath, it was now or never. “I’m not here to ask if you know how I can get home, but with all this magic and advanced tech, I was wondering if, maybe there was a way I could, I dunno call my family? Or even…Just write to them?”

When Azul didn’t say anything your nerves came back full force “I understand it’s a complicated request, and I totally get if you can’t do it or if it’s not something you know of, and I’m not trying to waste your time but-”

Amidst your tidal wave of words Azul leaned forward and reached out his hand to gently take hold of yours “Y/N.”

This stopped your rant and you found yourself feeling silly for the outburst but as you looked at him you noticed that he was entirely calm. Instead of seeming annoyed or perturbed he looked… empathetic, like he understood your plight and wanted to help you. No doubt a look he perfected for his unsuspecting customers, you had to wonder how many people got lured in by it, only to realize they stepped into an iron clad trap with the simple stroke of a pen. Every nerve in your body told you to guard yourself against that look, but in that moment, that look was like a pillow among the stony, dismissive expressions you tended to get from Crowley. Even if it was fake, it was still welcomed as you collected your thoughts before saying. “I just figured I’d ask since…let’s face it, I don’t have much to lose.”

Azul responded with a quiet hum as he retracted his hand to clasp with his other one while he rested his elbows on his knees. “Well it is definitely a difficult request” he said simply

You looked down, “Yeah, I figured, thanks anyways” you said about to get up

“It’s probably not impossible though” Azul continued

You stopped, a faint swell of something that’d been lost over the months “What?”

“The dark mirror can connect to many places, distant lands, undiscovered territories, under the ocean, and it was what brought you here to begin with. So if it was able to reach your realm then there’s a chance other interconnecting relics can too”

He raised a good point, “However, the mirror itself uses a vast amount of magic, so much so that the mirror goes into repose after for three months”

“So it can’t be anything on that big of a scale?” you asked

“Basically.”

“So something like a cell phone could do it without big repercussions?”

“In theory”

The swelling in your just got bigger, so big it threatened to spill, likely as another storm of tears. Could it work? Could you really be able to reach home? Was it safe to entertain this idea, to even have hope? You couldn’t help it, nor did you try to stop the smile that was taking your face by force. However your reverie was broken by Azul clearing his throat “the thing is, prefect, I’m still running a business here.”

You almost laughed but managed to suck in your lips at the last second. In your moment of unbridled joy you’d completely forgotten about the other shoe. “What do you want?” you asked, trying not to let your bitterness show

“It is a big request, so a payment of equal value would be in order.”

You had a pretty good guess as to what he was talking about. “Ramshackle?”

“You catch on quick.”

“Azul, the last time we had this talk, you left me homeless. Are you seriously trying to do that to me again?”

“You don’t have much else to offer I’m afraid.”

“I mean, I could work at the lounge.”

“For way longer than we’re both here at school.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You weren’t business oriented by any means but you knew that even if this succeeded you still needed a place to live and you didn’t have enough rapport with any dorm to become an actual resident, you had to think. With a subtle click of your tongue you opted to try the one thing you knew from all your years watching tv. “I’d like to negotiate.”

Azul’s cool, businessman composure cracked into an amused smirk, with how little you knew of contract law he could have easily said no and you’d never question it. Yet in a weird twist of fate he chuckled “negotiate? All right, what would you suggest?”

Maybe he was in a good mood, maybe your hubris impressed him, maybe he was struck by the spirit of benevolence itself, who knows? But now you had to work fast before the window closed.

You went over everything you could offer but none matched the scale of what you were hoping to get. “Well…” At the very least you needed to stall while you threw together a plan. Any plan.

“You did say it’s a long shopt, so there’s a chance this won’t even work.”

“I did, yes”

“What then?”

“Then the deal is off with my deepest apologies.”

“Has that always applied?”

“Yes.”

“Has it ever…happened? Where you couldn’t hold up your end?”

“No. This is the first deal I’m making with any kind of uncertainty”

“Really? Why? Does Ramshackle mean that much to you?”

“One part Ramshackle, another part academic curiosity”

“To see if it can be done at all?”

“Pretty much.”

“And if you succeed? Apart from helping me, what happens?”

“Well the possibilities there are endless, from scholarships to business opportunities”

“Do I get a partial credit? Or just a mention?” you smiled hoping your statement sounded like a joke, or at least enough of one.

“Is that what you wish to negotiate?”

You were about to speak but then it hit you. Shared credit….Shared custody….Shared building!

“No, I actually wanted to offer split custody of the dorm.” You weren’t sure if ‘custody’ was the word but perhaps if you sounded confident enough he wouldn’t take too much note.

“Really?” There was laughter in his voice, he was clearly enjoying this.

“Well the way I see it, You only really need the ground floor, with the lounge and kitchen, there’s no real need for the upstairs.”

“Yes, the plan was to take out the upstairs floor in favor of a higher ceiling”

“Okay, but what if we did this; have the main floor as the cafe and the upstairs as my living quarters, you’d have night security, clean up…”

“If that’s really all you provide I’m not seeing how this brings anything special.”

It’s true, it didn’t. So you had to think what you, exclusively, could bring.

“What about the ghosts? They were there before me and we’ve actually become good friends. If Grimm and I leave, they might get lonely again and start terrorizing customers, what then? Are you going to kick them out of the only home they’ve ever known?”

At this Azul put a hand on his chin thoughtfully and you knew you’d found your foot hold.

“Not to mention the Gargoyle club. They come around often to admire the ramshackle gargoyles and I don’t think Malleus will be happy to see them gone, but if I’m living upstairs you could say it was my request and you were too benevolent to say no.”

You didn’t like dropping the Fae princes name for anything, but you were grasping at any straws you could at this point. “Plus, after living there for so long I know how the building is and so I know all the handy tricks for the heat, stove, lights and all that stuff. So for letting me live in above your new cafe you get ghost control, a gargoyle alibi, and old building maintenance all for free.” You hoped dearly that the free part of your offer tipped the scales in your favor.

Azul looked like he was holding back some laughter, whether it was for pretenses or out of guilt for finding your desperation funny was beyond you but you didn’t much care so long as it actually worked.

“I can’t say I disagree with your argument, however the cost of building a separate apartment would cost more than simply tearing out the upper floor.”

You bit back the aggravated groan that was starting to rise. “Uhm…well…”

“So here’s a counter offer. If I succeed in holding up my end of the deal, I get the lower floor, all that you’ve offered AND you working at the new cafe. For free of course.”

“Do I get a lunch break and coffee?”

“Half hour lunch break, discounted goods.”

“Further discount for overtime?”

“Depending on what.”

“Probably coffee.”

“Then yes.”

“Deal.”

Azul stood to begin drawing up the contract and while you thought over everything, you found yourself calling out to him. “Hey, Azul”

“Yes?”

“Whether this works or not. I’m…I’m glad you’re giving it a shot” You looked down as you said it in case some tears got brave behind your eyes. You hadn’t noticed Azul’s gentle smile as he answered “let’s hope it works.”

Weeks had passed and turned into months since you’d made the deal with Azul, and that time you’d seen him talking quite a lot with Ortho and the tablet Idia used to attend classes on his behalf. It made sense to talk to the technomancers but you found yourself very surprised when you went to the library and found him having an animated discussion with Lilia, who seemed just as excited.

Each new day you thought more about home, how your family was doing. If a lot of time had passed. If they knew somehow that you were alive, or if they were trying to move on without you. At first you didn’t mind the wait. The task was complicated and you had classes to think about. But as time went, it began to eat away at you until anticipation turned into anxiety.

You were pacing the floor of the ramshackle dorm, wondering if you should check how things were going. It had been 4 months since you’d signed the contract and now everything was just a waiting game for you. Azul wasn’t really one to provide updates and that alone made you even more anxious. You had just decided to go to Octavinelle when there was a knock at your door. Admittedly you ended up running to open it, the anticipation filling your veins with an unbearable amount of nervous energy as you swung the door open with maybe a little too much force.

Azul stood calmly on the other side, his expression gave nothing away as you stood face to face. “Good morning, y/n.” He said

“Hey.” You said breathlessly

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry. Right this way.”

Upon closing the door behind you, Azul followed you to the living room, taking in the layout of the dorm as he did. “How have you been?” He asked

“Oh you know, class, chores, whatever category you put Ace and Grimm in, you?”

“Quite busy but feeling just as fulfilled” As he spoke, Azul reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked to be an old cordless phone from, if you weren’t mistaken, the 90’s. It was jet black and looked sort of blocky. If anything it reminded you of the one from the movie ‘Scream’ and you had to wonder how he’d fit that into his pocket. “Is that…” you asked

“Yes. The first model of the interconnected phone, ready for its first test.”

You looked at it slack jawed. You’d believed it was possible, but to see it in front of you was almost like a dream. You were debating on pinching yourself just to see if anything happened. Azul, however, was unfazed by your gaping and went on to explain “after much trial and error, we’d finally made a device strong enough to reach further than twisted wonderland as we know it and keep a signal. There’s no guarantee it will reach your world but it’s the best model so far. We’ve tried many different number combinations to reach other realms and we believe yours would be number 17.”

There it was again. The swelling, the same one that threatened to overflow through your eyes. As you eyed the phone you could feel your heart beat getting erratic. Was this it? Was this the day you would finally hear their familiar voices. “Try to temper your expectations though. There’s still no guarantee since it is still technically a tester. But still, I look forward to hearing the results.” With that, Azul handed you the phone. You smiled as you accepted it yet there were too many emotions going through you to be able to speak, so you let your tears fall as you nodded enthusiastically. Azul smiled in return and wished you luck as he headed out while all you could do was wave. It was finally the moment of truth.

The next day at school you sought Azul out, you found him during lunch and made a beeline for him. “Hey, Azul.”

“Ah, prefect, and how are you today?”

“I’m good, actually I was wondering. Are you busy this evening? Around dinner time?”

“Hmm not to my knowledge, why?”

“Uhm well, you worked super hard on that favor for me so I wanted to ask if you wanted to come by for dinner, nothing too fancy, just a homemade thing.”

Azul eyed you suspiciously, but figured you weren’t lying. Not to mention it certainly was better than coffee and an apple, which admittedly had been most of his meals in the past few months. “All right, what time?”

“Seven works.”

“Sounds good, see you then.”

“See you.” then you turned and left with a quick wave, leaving him feeling more than a little curious.

When Azul arrived at Ramshackle he seemed as aloof and confident as always where as you were almost bouncing as you opened the door. “Hey” you said “Dinner has just been plated, I hope you’re hungry”

You lead him to the kitchen where a savory smell greeted his nose. As he sat at the old yet spotless table he looked over at the counter where 2 plates sat, the still steaming food looking amazing to him who hadn’t eaten since lunch. You wasted little time bringing the plates and cutlery over and after some small talk you both dug into your meals. The food was delicious, and each ingredient that danced on his palette held just the right amount of spice or seasoning, it felt like a dish that would be served for a family dinner, it radiated warmth and a sense of comfort. “This is very good.” He said

“Thanks, my mom made it a lot at home, it’s actually my favorite thing of hers.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t know the recipe.”

You smiled broadly “I didn’t.”

Azul paused and looked at you so you continued “At least, not until last night.”

It took him a few seconds to realize what you meant but when he did, his eyes widened and he gasped “You mean?”

You couldn’t hold it anymore, you let out a small laugh as tears streamed down your cheeks “It worked, Azul, it really worked. It’s been so long since I heard moms voice…” you said as your voice cracked.

He was bewildered, he actually took a moment to let it sink in “It worked” he said quietly before clasping his hands together in delight “I’m so glad.” Now you had your hand over your mouth as you both sobbed and laughed. Even he was beginning to feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Well that’s good to hear. I guess I own part of ramshackle now.” He was more trying to sober himself, since this was usually the part where people’s joy turned to anger. He braced himself for you to start yelling but you never did, instead you stood up and threw your arms around his still sitting form “That’s fine by me.” You said. He was stunned, he didn’t move, he almost didn’t breathe as you hugged him tightly and said “Thank you, Azul. Thank you so much.”

His composure gave out, he couldn’t really define the feeling in his chest but he didn’t mind it, nor did he mind the tears that were falling. Not this time, anyway. With a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. “You’re welcome.” He whispered.

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