#to do them. i am paralyzed with fear and i am unable to live my life even when im not in the depressed state i am. even when thinfs are ''go

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

I have like MULTIPLE ideas so like, i think i should list them all just for you and you can basically just pick the one you actually feel like writing 🫶

Hobies younger sibling!Reader x Pavitr: Basically you and Hobie were both bitten by the same spider and like you both got recruited to the Spider Society together and like Hobie decides to introduce you to his friend, Pavitr, in which you were completely mesmerized of in which you didnt even realized you started falling for him.

Love triangle: Reader is torn inbetween choosing to love Pavitr or Spider-man, just not entirely knowing that they were the same person.

Recconecting: You and Pavitr were childhood bestfriends, yet inbetween your frienship, you had to move away. You guys were still in touch aswell, and little did Pavitr know, you decided to surprise him by finally moving back to your hometown where you and Pavitr used to live.

Have fun writing what you want, these are just udeas that's been stuck on my head yet i'm too lazy to write smh 😭🙏

Mutually Inclusive

🕷 Masterlist 🕷

A/N: I am sooo sorry for the delay I just couldn't choose ONE!! all of these are so good I wanna do eveythinggggg ASDFGHJKSKSK but since i'm a Sucker for the 2nd trope..

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x reader Summary: You are torn between choosing to love Pavitr and Spider-man, just not entirely knowing that they are the same person. Tags: Love Triangle-ish, Secret Identity, Flirting, Pet Names, lack of self preservation ⚠️Trigger Warning: Near death experiences ⚠️

Also read on AO3

C'mon, he said. It'll be fun, he said.

You huff and roll your eyes standing in the middle of the crowded bazaar. Pavitr Prabhakar, AKA your best friend, had somehow convinced you to go for a vadapav, claiming it was The Best in all of Mumbattan and gotten you stranded in the middle of the biggest and most crowded market of the country. According to him, it was a ""#divine experience"" and ""relief to your taste buds."" The last line being met with a slap to his head.

"Stay right here and don't stray."

You send him away with a playful punch to his shoulder.

That was an hour ago. He'd left you standing at a corner to buy you guys a plate and still hadn't returned. You huff and tap your foot impatiently, licking your ice-cream and wondering what the hell is taking him so long. Buying vadapav can't be that hard.

All of sudden, people around you begin to run and yell and make way for something.

Very belatedly you realize a truck has lost it's way and is now coming right at you in full speed. You freeze on the spot, unable to move, paralyzed by mortal fear.

This is a terrible way to die!

It's like your motor controls failed all of a sudden. You can feel the angry squeals of the tyres and the horn blaring wildly from where you're standing. None of the onlookers dared to move, frozen in shock themselves.

You dare to blink, accepting your ill-fate. Heart thumping loudly in your chest, the beat in your ears, you stand in the middle of street like a deer caught in headlights. 'This is it', you think, frightened, Pavitr being your last thought in that moment.

As quick as a flash, you're being swept off into the air and landed safely in a quite secluded place nearby.

The squeak of tyres against the asphalt still rings in your ears, the loud crash of the truck colliding with a wall still shaking your bones. You peek from behind your human shield and faintly realized no damage has been done, except probably to the wall and the truck.

As if you only then come back into your body, the fact that you looked death in the eye finally catches up to you, releasing the breath you didn't know you were holding.

Your eyes shamelessly trail down your savior.  Wow. Oh my god. It's him, it's Spider-man! The superhero you admire a lot (and low key have a crush on)! And he's hugging you! "Oh thank god, you're okay!", he bursts out and then seems to remember himself, recovering quite clumsily with a stiff pat to your shoulder. "Uh, I meant, you're a beautiful stranger that I do not know!"

Good lawd, did Spider-man just call you 'beautiful'?! (Poor Pavitr's never gonna hear the end of it).

"T-thank you, for saving me", you say, mesmerized by him. He runs a hand through his his luscious raven curls waving in the chilly evening breeze (why does that feel familiar?)

"My pleasure, gorgeous. I don't usually play knight in shining armour, but I can make an exception."

Was he..?! OMG.

Spider-man. Just. Flirted. With. You!

His smile is so bright and radiant, contagious, and the wink that followed does nothing to help stop your fluttering heart. A smirk pulls at his lips -and you gotta admit, it is pretty hot- with which he disappears into the rosy evening of the dazzling Mumbattan sky. You sigh dreamily, rubbing your arms together as you walk outside, totally not thinking about the mysterious yet no less magnetic eyes behind the mask.

"Y/n? Where did you leave!?"

"I left you?" You turn around slowly. One look at the vadapav-lover before you and he shuts up.

_______

You are not thinking about him. Not at all. Not in class, not in the shower, not on your bed when you were supposed to be doing homework, not on the TV or getting excited at even the mention of him on the news. Nope, no sir. Not at all. Nu-uh.

Okay, maybe a little.

Pavitr rolls his eyes, snapping his book shut. You guys were supposed to be studying together but all he did was listen to you gush about your superhero crush. "Really, Y/N, what do you even see in him anyway?"

"He's smart, he's intelligent-"

Pav mumbles something, but you ignore him all the same.

"-he's handsome, he's talented, he saves people, he fights evil... he's a nice guy. Heart of gold. He is Spider-man!", you exclaim in exasperation, your fingers doing wild gestures in the air as he watches you amused.

Pavitr chuckles. "Don't get me wrong, I think he's pretty neat too, but you gotta admit: he can't hold a candle to me."

"Oh, fo' sho'", you shoot back sardonically.

"You see Y/N, the real question is.. is he a romantic like me?"

"Are you now?"

Pavitr then seemed to flip into a total Romeo mode, easing back on the chair and running a hand through his raven locks. "Hey, sweetlips", he begins in a deeper baritone, "tonight I was thinking-"

"-Of doing your homework? I hope it's doing your homework, Pavi beta! Good grades speak for themselves, you know", Maya aunty chimes in from the kitchen.

Pav blushes, replying a slightly embarrassed affirmation and goes back to studying.

You snort behind your palm, unaware that your heart is already melting.

_______

The next time you meet Spider-man is at a fair. You went there with Pavitr, a night full of cheesy pick-up lines and horrible puns not letting the smile fall from your lips for even a fraction of a second. It's all fun and games, Gayatri leaving you two alone and unsupervised -a bad decision, really- to go off with her crush. You play more games, help a cute little boy win a hedgehog plushie and then wander around aimlessly until Pavitr disappears to buy more snacks.

You were standing beneath the gigantic Ferris wheel, munching on your corn while something akin to the sound of a dying whale catches your ears. Turning around, you realize the Ferris wheel has lost balance and is about to fall.

It is utter chaos. The crowd goes haywire, scared people bumping into each other in haste to get away and panic. You find safety but seeing the little boy from earlier run towards the falling machinery to retrieve his plushie stops your heart. Without another thought, you run after him.

Its too late, now. The metal joints have come off and there are mere seconds for it's fall. You shield the little boy with yourself and shut your eyes tight, waiting for your impending doom, looking up in shock when it doesn't come.

The boy lets out a tiny gasp. "Spider-man!"

Indeed, the famous wall-crawler stands before you, webbing up the steel rods of the wheel. It's basically being held together by his sticky solution. You watch as he places a number of steel columns to hold up the broken part of the wheel and only moves from the place once he's sure it will sustain a bit longer.

Applauds rise from all around and people cheer, worried parents thanking him for returning their son in one piece. His eyes finally turn to you dusting dirt off your dress and you catch his in a mesmerizing gaze like before.

He offers you his hand and pulls you up in one -admittedly sexy- move.

"God, I was so worrie-!", he says before stopping himself.

There it is again, the familiar unfamiliarity. It puts you on alarm but also melts your heart -if that makes sense.

"Thanks again, for saving me. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing, sweetlips. Just.. keep yourself safe, okay?" With a wink, your masked heartthrob disappears into the skies again.

Okay, he definitely called you a pet name. That's gotta mean something, right?

Pavitr finds you right after, hugging you and thanking every God in existence that you're alive. You calm him down and decide to go home -that was enough for one day- but you just can't help wondering where you had heard that pet name before.

Sweetlips..

_______

Was it normal to be in love with two guys? Should you have to choose?

One is sweet ol' beloved Pavitr: charming, good-hearted, witty, amazing hair, humorous, cheesy puns, vadapav-lover. The other being literally ✨️Spider-man! ✨️

And you loved them both equally; torn between two good-hearted guys you cared about. This was torture.

But weirder than that, you felt you were missing something. Like you know it, it's at the tip of your tongue but you just can't seem to know what! Not to mention the weird coincidence of Spider-man's and Pav's pet names for you.

Argh, love is a disaster.

_____

Pavitr is walking you home from school that day when you decide to tell him everything.

You had chosen your best friend.

Not that he knew there was someone else but.. for some reason, you feel guilty for not choosing Spider-man and that weighed on you. You figured telling your bestie would ease atleast a little of it.

"Hey, Pav?"

He hums, his raven-wing hair whipping as he turns around, coming to a stop beside you. "Yes, meri jaan?"

Some of the ice cream you were licking has smeared on your nose and with a playfully disapproving look, Pav reaches out and wipes it off.

See, it's the little things like these that make you fall for him even more.

"I need to tell you something. I.. You know how I love Spider-man, right? I mean, I talk about him all the time, but.. -ugh, God, I'm so terrible at this!" You cut yourself off with an embarrassed chuckle as he patiently watches you, amused. "What I'm really trying to say is-"

"HELP! HELP- AHHHH!"

The sudden cry catches you off guard and you startle. Pavitr is gone when you look for him and -assuming he's gone to get help- you run towards the direction of the voice. It comes from an alley nearby and you go there just in time to see Spider-man web up a couple of goons and leave them hanging upside down from a light post, the elderly lady nearby thanking him profusely.

When he spots you, his face immediately brightens. "Hey", he says, breathless, walking towards you, "do you happen to have a Band-Aid by any chance?"

"Ye-"

" 'Cause I just scraped my knee falling for you."

Oh no, not again. Not your heart melting into a puddle, not right now! (Be strong Y/N!)

But all you can get out is a dreamy, "Spider-man"

The vigilante hero suddenly falls quiet, hesitating. "I, uh, actually have something to tell you"

Your heart thumps so loudly in your chest, you can hear it in your ears! It won't be what you were thinking. Surely not.

(Technically, you haven't chosen yet. And, you don't have to choose only one of them, right?)

"Listen, I.. I think I love you."

Oh. Oh..

"I'm sorry", you sigh, feeling real bad for the superhero standing before you.

His face falls under the mask, and that more than anything else, breaks your heart.

You shouldn't do this to him. It's cruel, really. This guy is out here risking his life yet here you are, breaking his heart. It's  painful for both of you.

"I like you", you say, "very much! But I can't.. you're a superhero and I'm just an ordinary person, I rather not risk both our lives."

He is still, very still. A moment later, he finally speaks. "You love someone else." It wasn't a question.

"It's my best friend, Pavitr. He's.. God, he's everything to me. I'm sorry. It's a probably a bad decision, but it's mine."

To your shock, a wide smile pulls at his lips, his face almost glowing -you feel it more than seeing it. "I think it's the best decision."

The spider-hero stands tall, and in a flash, rips off his mask. His curly hair rustles in the wind, eyes sparkling with mischief -the eyes you've known so well, more than your own; those very same hypnotizing brown eyes.

"At least to me, meri jaan."

This little shit-

"I apologize, I haven't totally been honest with you", he chuckles when you grab him by the collar, pulling you close as you playfully punch him in the chest.

YOU KNEW IT! You knew he was too familiar!

"Me neither. Although..", you smirk, "now that I think about it, I actually love Spider-man more."

"Guess I have to settle for heartbreak then", he sighs dramatically, hugging you closer. "Hey, you don't happen to be a vigilante superhero with amazing hair by any chance, do you?"

You slap his head before pulling your best friend in for a kiss.

There's no one else you'd rather fall in love with.

------

🎶🎵"It's funny 'cause you drive me half insane A universe without you would be thoroughly mundane There's no one else I'd rather fall in love with And that is my best friend in the world"🎶🎵 'Best Friend' by Laufey

(someone in the notes pav was so Laufey coded so i went with that lol)

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitrx reader #pavitr prabhakar x female reader #pavitr x fem!reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr x gn reader #pavitr x male reader #pavitr prabhakar x fem reader #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr x you #pavitr x y/n #pavitr prabhakar x y/n #astv #Spider-Man #sony

[jaw-writes]

I Despise You Darling

I despise everything about you. Your endless void eyes, freakishly long legs, ever smug smile, deceptively soft touch, strangely floral scent. All of it. You attack each of my senses every time you come near me. To think that we were once best friends, I had more faith in you than anyone, whenever I needed advice or a shoulder to cry on, I went to you first. You meant the world to me; it makes me feel sick whenever I remember how the girl I loved was a lie 

You betrayed me, your best friend, in the name of a grotesque experiment where I’m the lab rat. There’s no doubt that you started the fire that continues to burn my life, but I can’t deny that I’ve enjoyed pouring the gasoline. At first, I did my best to avoid becoming obsessed with you, constantly holding myself back knowing it was wrong, but you made it impossible. Your mind is a carefully curated garden brimming with all sorts of life. As each day went by, I wanted to pick another flower from it, feel another blade of grass, and bask in its intrigue. 

I learned so much about you through observation, that I never could as your friend. Last year when I found out that you’d been stalking me, I had no idea why you’d do such a thing, now I understand. If watching me gave you a quarter of the feelings I get from watching you, then I’d almost forgive your actions. Gazing at your life through an analytical lens elicits feelings in me I didn’t know existed. It’s almost impossible to describe the manic rush of joy and power I get. 

Although, I think we enjoy it in different ways based on how we view each other. To you I’m your favorite seed in your garden, you want to watch me grow into your ideal tree. So, you take what you know about how I function, and combine it with your understanding of the world to make a compost for me. As brutal as the water you drown me in and the harsh sun you scorch me with is, it’s all part of your method to make me grow. I am a creation you live to see reach its full potential.  

To me, you’re the opposite, a malicious computer program that I enjoy watching destroy itself. You have never felt an ounce of empathy and have always needed to control any device you encounter. Once you find a target, you infect them with your virus, mining every piece of their data, and adding them to your collection of stolen lives. You successfully did it to me, but unlike the others, you kept going. Focusing on my activity far after you were done stealing from me, constantly coming back to see how I’d adapt to a new trojan horse you threw.  

Soon, I became the only user you engaged with, no other piece of tech mattered unless it was connected to me, and God, did seeing you like that feed my ego. A smile forces its way to my face at your meticulous plans growing in detail and intensity as you can’t focus on anything else. I, a random individual with nothing but a hint of illness to him, is who you put all your resources into. I’m unable to fear you anymore, while I gaze at you practically living for me. In your efforts to crumble and rebuild my life. You’ve made yourself incapable of having your own.  

Both of us have embraced the worst aspects of ourselves through the sick experiments we’ve been running on each other. You may be the greater evil between us, but I’m no longer afraid to admit that I’ve become a devil myself. I mean, I lured you into an abandoned warehouse, called upon one of my allies to help me fight you, and then shot you ceaselessly, making sure it was in areas that would maim, but not kill you. Now why would I do that? To make you paralyzed, of course. I was incredibly particular about where I aimed.  

You’ll be unable to move your limbs for at least four months, which invigorates me. I’ve been watching you and your caretaker. It’s great seeing both your arms and legs in casts. You had already been losing your strength to your fixation on me, but now you’ll be incapable of running away. If you find yourself fearing me right now, know that whatever happens next is your fault. I’m not the Anti-Christ, so I’ll simply enjoy observing your lack of mobility, with no further harm, but prepare yourself because the moment you can walk, I’ll be waiting.  

Unless I’m lying like you always lied to me, and I’ll strike once one of your limbs heal. Maybe I’ll be tracking you even more and will be able to tell if you’re pretending that you haven’t healed so I don’t hurt you sooner. Maybe I won’t even wait for when your body starts recovering, and you’ll wake up to me standing over your bed with my hands on your neck. I know how much you like analyzing and picking out patterns with me, so I’ll make sure you never know what to expect. I could be bluffing, and this is all to scare you off, so I’ll be done with you, you’ll never know. 

Are you starting to regret choosing me for this? Does the thought that you’ve grown a deadly poison plant out of your control kill you? Or are you loving this as much as I am, and you want to rub yourself all over me to get a blistering rash? I think it’s a mix of both for you, but who am I to say, it’s not like I’ve been watching your every move, right? No matter what you feel, just remember, I despise you, darling. 

#creepypasta #horror #ao3 writer #drama #edit #moodboard #black and white #long post #original character #original story #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing #aesthetic #original post #pinterest #bookblr #books #short story #story #no sleep #love hate relationship #poetry #writerscommunity #writers and poets #poc writer #asian writers #thriller #romantic #no sleep rejected this because they hate protags who aren't purely sympathetic

[siennadraws]

I needed to get this out of my system before writing another thing with them so here! Have a break up!

Laïs could hear familiar footsteps behind her- far quicker and heavier than they should be. She whipped around.

Deimos was angry, and at that moment she knew why.

He had figured it all out. She had slipped up.

When had she gotten so sloppy? She swallowed in dry, she knew exactly when.

"You!" She didn't flinch, but her heart twisted at the scream. "You traitor! You really thought you could keep me in the dark?"

Her mouth opened uselessly. Guilt pooled on her belly and twisted her insides. She could almost feel fear. Paralyzed, she could almost inspect it- she wasn't scared of him, she was scared for him.

Her and her damned masks- keeping her safe, separating her from the world. She wanted to scream.

She let out a huff as he pushed her against the wall, forearm pressing against her ribcage, below her neck.

Laïs swallowed in dry, feeling the pricking in her eyes.

"Please, listen to me."

Deimos let out a grunt- and she could see his eyes glint, hear a shakiness to his voice.

"I am so sorry you found it this way, at least let me explain everything," she took a shaky breath, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. "I met your si- Kassandra after I met you. Before your cult's gathering. I knew my aunt's killer was part of something bigger, so I was also searching for them.

I only discovered who you were when she got out and told me your name. I never told her about you- I thought it didn't matter then, but then I kept seeing you, and I was afraid she would think I was a cultist.

She wanted you back, and I know what it's like to lose your family, so I had to help her.

I befriended you. But despite Kassandra or the Cult, it was genuine. You can think whatever you want of me, but you have to know, I truly care for you. So much..."

He didn't look at her as he let his arm fall to his side. A tentative relief crept up on her.

"You-" he pursed his lips as he stopped himself, "I will let you go. But if we cross paths again, I will kill you."

Laïs gave a heavy nod, unable to look at him either. She heard his footsteps fading away through the streets, and when she was finally alone, Laïs let herself slide to the floor.

Exhaustion hit her then, and she couldn't stop a sob from bubbling up. She growled at the defeat, as her shoulders shook and tears fell. She dug her fingers into her hair, her bun coming undone.

What did she think would happen, anyway? He would have found out, one way or the other. Would she run away, if he hadn't walked away? She probably would.

It had been easy being his friend, despite her growing feelings, because in the end, they'd always separate. That was their thing. They were on two different sides, both knew it way before this. At the end of the day, their duties, their lives, would irrevocably keep them apart. He couldn't be taken from her, because he was anything but hers, and that was so easy.

At least, she had thought so. But she could feel her heart tearing itself apart, choking her.

If she hadn't relied on that, on her masks, what would have even happened? They had met time and time again by some trick of the Fates. Would she have avoided him?

The shards of her heart twisted at the idea. And she hated herself for it. Now that he had discovered she was with Kassandra, would he ever think about escaping the Cult? Had she ruined any chance for Kassandra to convince him to leave?

There was nothing she could do now, except staying out of the way.

Would she ever even see him again?

She allowed herself this moment, crying until she had no more tears left.

Then she stood up, trying her best to clean any evidence of her breakdown. She was still needed by her allies. No, her friends.

Her friends, her people.

Keeping herself so separate had already cost her too much. Even as it terrified her so, as she walked back to them, she vowed to let go of her masks.

#siennawrites #laïs #laïs x deimos #deimos ac #assassin's creed oc #assassins creed oc

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I hit about eight different topics in this post. All related to various comedians. It's been a while since I've done a post in which I just start writing and then let myself go, if one thing I write reminds me of a different thing I'll start writing about that. There's no plan to this post. Adding a cut for people who (justifiably) do not want to go through something even more rambly than usual, for me. I'll say at the outset that there's nothing particularly deep or insightful here.

Just finished listening to the podcast episode to go with the new Taskmaster, and it was quite good. Solid insights from Ivo Graham, as I’d have expected. I missed this podcast, since they stopped putting stuff out every week. I realized I’ve missed hearing Ed Gamble – I do like him enough to enjoy hearing him talk for 45-ish minutes per week, which I learned from the several years he spent doing the Taskmaster podcast with very few weeks off, and I miss it now that it only airs while Taskmaster (UK) is airing.

If only I hadn’t spent years in a sport that forced me to track my weight so meticulously that I am now incapable of seeing food as entertainment, ruling out getting into Off Menu. If only I didn’t have a combination of hypochondria that mainly manifests as fear of developing cancer and/or diabetes, and fear of needles, along with a specific fear that I’ll develop diabetes and then have to have needles for the rest of my life, and the way I manage to go through life instead of being constantly paralyzed with anxiety about this is by avoiding thinking about the existence of those things as much as possible. I can think about if I’m absolutely forced to, but at the very least, I’m unable to derive enjoyment from thinking about them. So Ed Gamble’s stand-up might be great, I don’t know, I haven’t sought it out.

I have a disappointing amount of reasons to avoid listening to his stuff, given how much I enjoy hearing him talk. Maybe I should get into his radio show, I like Matthew Crosby. And every once in a while I think of how the side of Ed Gamble I like least is the way he’s a bit too TV polished sometimes, so clearly the solution to that is to get into the Peacock and Gamble stuff.

Anyway, it was a fun episode. The more I think about it, the more excited I am for Taskmaster season 16. That first episode was so good, one of those things that’s so good I just want to go over and over it, so I enjoyed hearing Ed and Ivo do that.

I remembered today that a few months ago, I was hanging out with my brother, and I told him I’d bought tickets to see Tom Ballard. He didn’t know who Tom Ballard was, I said he’s an Australian comedian, my brother said he didn’t know as much about Australian comedy as he should. Then we both started naming other Australian comedians, to see if we have any knowledge of them in common. He didn’t know any of my names, until I asked him, “Do you know Sam Campbell?” and he said yes. I asked him if he likes Sam’s comedy, and he said that actually he’s never seen Sam’s comedy.

“But you said you know him,” I said. My brother said yeah, from when he lived in Melbourne. I often forget that my brother lived in Melbourne for a year, in about 2015-ish. He also lived in London for a year, around 2011. Did some comedy in both those places. Anyway, he told me that one time when he lived in Melbourne, he was at a party, and one of his comedy friends introduced him to a guy named Sam Campbell. “I haven’t seen him perform, but he was a nice guy,” my brother said. I told him we are working with different definitions of what it means to "know" a comedian.

I think this might be the first time I’ve been two handshakes away from a Taskmaster contestant. I can get three away from plenty of them – I’ve met someone who’s met someone who’s met them. Three away from Mae Martin in plenty of ways, I think, and not even just through my brother, now that I’ve spent some time with other local comedians. A bunch of those local comedians, including my brother, have worked with some of the comedians who were on LOL Canada, a fairly bad… okay less bad than you’d expect given the premise but definitely not great… comedy-based reality show that I watched this summer entirely because it had Mae Martin on it. Mae Martin’s pretty good in that, by the way, for the information of anyone who’d like to know that. By which I mean, if you happen to just really like watching Mae Martin do anything, that is a show on Amazon Prime that features Mae Martin doing some stuff. Mainly trying not to laugh at Tom Green.

 So I can get three away, but I think Sam Campbell is the first Taskmaster contestant my brother, or anyone else I know personally, has actually met. I mean, technically I’ve now met Josie Long and Grace Petrie, and they’ve met lots of Taskmaster contestants. Technically I’ve been one handshake away from a Taskmaster contestant, as Josie Long was an original champion (well, second after Wozniak). But I think in this case, I’m defining “handshake” as working with someone or seeing them socially. It counts if you only worked with or met them once, but it has to be work or social, not just accosting them on the streets of Montreal and asking them to sign a tour poster from over ten years ago.

 Though my meeting with Grace Petrie has turned out to possibly be slightly more significant than I’d thought at the time. I haven’t been able to find my wallet this weekend, and the last time I definitely, 100% had it was when I took it out at the merch table at her concert and gave her money for a CD. I think I remember having it when I got home from the concert, but I can’t be totally sure, and I can’t find it anywhere in the house.

I was an incoherent mess when I met Grace Petrie at her merch table, I remember shaking and stuttering a bit as I spoke to her and trying to remember what I wanted to say, and I definitely don’t remember keeping track of anything. It is absolutely conceivable that my flustered state from meeting Grace Petrie led me to forget to pick up my wallet when I left the table. Again, I don’t think so – I think I would have checked for it before leaving the venue at the end of the night. But the more I search this house and don’t find it, the more likely it looks that the “too excited to meet Grace Petrie to remember to grab it” theory is exactly what happened. So basically, my current working theory is that Grace Petrie stole my wallet.

It'd be good if Sam Campbell won Taskmaster, not just because I called that the moment the cast was officially announced so now I have to back him like he’s a sports team because I like being right. But I’d enjoy being two handshakes away from a Taskmaster champion.

My brother does have a few “meeting now-famous people” stories about his time doing the comedy circuit in London, which I would like credit for not having posted here. Last year he gave me some entertaining gossip about British comedians, and I have refrained from mentioning that on my blog about British comedians, and I just want people to recognize the restraint I showed. In case anyone’s concerned, since “there’s a story about a famous person” so often means bad things, it’s nothing like that. All stories with tawdry parts in them have been entirely consensual. Though I will say that one time last year, my brother and I were in our parents’ living room and he told a story about Daniel Sloss that resulted in us having to explain the concept of dick pics to our mother. That is fine to say because it’s not putting any previously unknown gossip out there, as Daniel Sloss’ most recently released filmed special has a whole routine about how there are lots of his dick pics out there and one is bound to get leaked at some point. And I said “Yes, so I’ve heard.”

My brother told me at the time that he didn’t particularly like Daniel Sloss’ comedy, but I’m pretty sure he hadn’t actually seen it, and this was just one comedian automatically disliking another comedian who had started around the same time as him but become much, much more successful. Though to be fair, I have seen the DVD Daniel Sloss made when he was 22, and it’s fair to say he was not always the deep and complex comedian he is today. There is some bad stuff in his half man/half x-box days. And even recently, I don’t think everything he’s done is great. His latest special was fairly uneven and I do get sick hearing him call himself a dangerous an edgy comic, even though I know that’s just normal marketing. But I think he’s made some legitimately great things.

My brother told me more recently, however, that he had watched Daniel Sloss’ Jigsaw for the first time and loved it, that it’s exactly how he feels about relationships but hasn’t seen someone put it so well into words before. And he sent Jigsaw to his friend who’s in a bad relationship, saying this might encourage her to get out of it. I said I know what he means, that Jigsaw put into words a bunch of stuff that I also think about relationships but couldn’t articulate as clearly as Daniel Sloss did in that show, and I’ve also used it to show other people what I think. For example, I said, when I was early in the process of dating my most recent ex-girlfriend, it was going really really well and we were both talking about how we liked this but had agreed at the outset that neither of us were looking for a serious relationship, I sent her the Jigsaw show as a way to explain why I don’t do serious/traditional/committed relationships, but I really like her so can we keep seeing each other anyway? And of course about three weeks later we decided we had fallen in love and would therefore make an exception and use the word “girlfriend” and call this a relationship properly. I told my brother this, and he said… “No, that’s not the same thing. I sent Jigsaw to a girl I like because I hoped it would make her break up with her boyfriend. That’s what you’re supposed to do with that show, use it to break people up. You’re not supposed to send it to a girl you like who’s already dating you, as a way to start a relationship with her. Do you think it might have been a bad sign that you started a relationship by showing her that strongly anti-romance comedy show and saying this is what you think?” And I said I don’t know, fuck off, and yeah, probably.

It is nighttime and I have to get up for work tomorrow but I can't sleep, so I thought I'd just start writing some stuff and see where it takes me. Obviously it took me here. I started writing about the Taskmaster podcast, and I ended up writing about why my relationship fell apart last year. I'm doing fine. I need to go to sleep. I also need to find my fucking wallet. Just my luck, having Grace Petrie steal my wallet.

[crystalsblogcorner]

Chapter three is out! Hope y'all enjoy!

Tw: blood, violence

Press here to read Chapter 2

Night one

Dream listens as tubbo closes the door to his room and walking down the stairs, waiting for his time to strike. After his younger brother is gone to eat dinner, he opens his door and closes it gently, trying to be as quiet as possible. After he got to tubbo's door he grabbed the doorknob, but hesitated before thinking, should I do this? He shook away the thoughts and urged himself to open the door slowly, letting the fun to begin     

Ranboo felt the flames heat touch his bare skin as he watched his fellow people scream, but nothing coming out of their mouths, their faces outlined in fiery red of the surrounding flames. He watched as his home was tore down to pieces right before his eyes, his friends and family being lost forever in the inferno. He stood there like we was rooted to the ground, unable to move as he watched his childhood be destroyed, his only home being lost in the ruthless habits of mankind. but as he watched the tiny houses burn to the ground, a human came out of the smoke, holding a lighter as he smiled at the helpless borrower, his hypnotizing yet familiar green eyes piercing through his soul. He feels his body go numb as he is pulled out of the dream, the distant opening of the door waking him up from his probably nightmare. He sits up from his blankets and briefly stretches before leaning out of his kennel before saying, "Tubbo?"  

 The figure stares at him before answering, "nope," as he walked closer to him, a sense of anxiety begins to run through his veins. As they got closer, he could see them a lot better, their hypnotic green eyes glowing in the shadowed room. Ranboos eyes go wide and he jumps out of his cage and runs across tubbos desk, but the intruder is faster than him, picking Ranboo up in one foul swoop into his giant clawed hand. They held ranboo close to his face, before asking, "know who I am now ranboo?," Ranboos eyes begin to wander before dream shakes him vigorously as he snaps, "Do you!?" Ranboo noticed the long slash across his nose bridge before realizing, it was dream, he was the one who destroyed his home. Ranboo's eyes widened as dream spoke, "and I remembered who you were when I first saw you in my house, now just a pet, a pest to my family."  Ranboo stayed silent, paralyzed with fear as dream spoke to him, his mind racing in circles as it tries to grasp the fact he is now living with the person that ruined his life. Ranboo squirmed under dream grasp, making dream squeeze harder around his torso, making ranboo wheeze under the pressure. Dream smiles as his talons stab into ranboos flesh, making dreams claws and Ranboo's clothing covered with his purplish luminescent blood. Ranboos instincts kick in and he immediately passes out, accidentally playing dead to trick his attacker. Dream chuckles as he holds the "lifeless" body of his brother's former pet, before laying him haphazardly on tubbos desk before hearing tubbo tell puffy he's coming up to his room, telling him it's time for him to leave. Dream steps out of the room as he whispers,"another one dead, how sad," before closing the room, leaving glowing blood-stained fingerprints of tubbos doorknob.       

  Tubbo walks up the stairs only moments after dream leaves, carrying a moderately tiny bowl of soup for ranboo, happy to have a new friend to talk to. As he got to his door, he noticed the weird glowing stains on his doorknob before realizing the faintest scent of fresh blood coming straight out of his room. His eyes go wide with panic, basically barging down the door. he steps into the room before laying eyes on Ranboo, his friend laying in his own blood. Tubbo drops the bowl, he ran over to ranboo, picking him up gently before yelling as he ranboo down the stairs, "MOM! Ranboos bleeding bad!"   

 Tubbo lays him on the kitchen counter in front of puffy, his eyes glossy with tears building up in the corners of his eyes. Puffy looks at ranboo before telling tubbo,"he's still breathing, but you need to get me some bandages and some cotton balls." tubbo immediately runs upstairs to the bathroom. Puffy looks at ranboo closer, lifting up his sweater to find claw stab wounds all on one side of his body before her thinking, dream.  

   Tubbo comes back with the supplies before asking through his sniffles,"is he going to be ok?"    

 "Yes, but all we can do is pray, and wait for him to wake up," puffy replies as she wraps ranboos wounds with bandages, using the cotton balls to clean up the excess blood, her eyes clouded with sadness.   

 Ranboo floats through the darkness of his mind, the feeling of his soal disconnecting from his body growing as he thought, i'm going to die. He feels a sense of belonging here as he floats aimlessly through the dark waters of his limbo, but the feeling of reality still grasping onto his life, not wanting to let go. Ranboo opens his eyes, taking in the darkness, but a light appears in front of him, just in arms reach. He grabs the shining ball of light and brings it toward him, taking in the warmth as it overpowers the cool void around him. As he hugs the single ball of energy, he feels his soul returning to his body as he grasps the only happiness he has at that single moment, before everything going blank. 

  Ranboo slowly opens his eyes, squinting as the shining light blinds him. He sits up slowly, wincing at the pain in his torso before looking down at himself, his ribs wrapped in bandages. He looks around the room, no one anywhere to be seen, but as he looks around the room the door slowly opens, revealing tubbo walking in. Tubbo looks at him and smiles excitedly before yelling for puffy, hearing puffy downstairs rushing up to his bedroom. ranboo smiles as tubbo and puffy walks into the room, the feeling of warmth coming back to him in waves. Tubbo kneels beside the desk, his eyes bloodshot partially, the scent of sadness radiating off him as he speaks, his voice hoarse, "i'm glad your ok ranboo, we were so worried," puffy nodding in the background, her eyes bloodshot as well. 

   A pang of sadness hits him as he thought to himself, im sorry.  Puffy kneels beside tubbo, before turning to ranboo and asks, her voice soft but cracked as her eyes meets his, "Ranboo, who did this to you?," he looks into his eyes before scoffing, the look in his eyes telling all she needs to know. puffy looks at tubbo then back to ranboo, her eyes going soft before her speaking, "i think you should get more rest ranboo, and tubbo how about you stay in here with him, ok?," tubbo nodding to her request. After a moment, puffy gets up and walks out of the room as she looks back and says," and tubbo, ranboos going to stay with you at all times for now on," her eyes locking with his before turning and walking out of the room. 

 Ranboo looks at tubbo, his eyes lined with dark circles and the lack of sleep showing off his face. Ranboos begins to feel worried before whispering to tubbo, "you should probable rest tubbo, you look awfully tired," tubbo looking at him and smiling softly.

  "Your right ranboo, thanks," tubbo says as he yawned,"and do you want to sleep with me, I don't roll around so it's safe." 

 "That would be nice," ranboo replied, letting tubbo pick him up gently, unlike the constricting pressure his brother gave him before he passed out. ranboo thought for a moment, how long was a passed out for? before asking tubbo as he laid on the bed, setting ranboo on his chest, "how long was a passed out for?"  

   "For about a week, me and mom thought you were never going to wake up," tubbo said as he looks up to the ceiling, "she said she knew who hurt you but she won't tell me."  

 And that's a good thing, ranboo thought as he laid down, tubbos warmth radiating into his own body. As both of them lay there, tubbo knocks out in moments, his chest rising and falling slowly. Ranboo sighed and looked up at the ceiling as tubbo slept, his breathing filling his ears as he laid there, his mind wandering but reaching back to the same place, the thing he lost so long ago, the warmth of a happy family.   

#Chapter 3 #Tw:blood #Tw Violence #Tw #dehumanization #Shifting bonds AU

[tarotwithdanise]

Hello danise (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

Thank you for opening your ᰋ ׅ࣪ ꒰ yes or no ♡ event ꒱. I hope I do it right to join this event.

[ 1. ] Initial : PJ

[ 2. ] Zodiac sign : Scorpio ♏

[ 3. ] My thoughts about your pacs : one word to describe it. BEAUTIFUL. The aesthetic are so so eyes pleasing. Remember that I joined your 444 followers, and I was one of the winner. Before I get the reading, I was read some of your future spouse PACs, I'm really amazed on how some of details was similar to the reading that you given. I love self related PACs especially inner child, spirit guides messages, it give me sense of relief. (I'm not sugarcoating hehe, but it's a fact)

Question

Am I gonna change my current career into new one soon?

Will my boss approved my request about salary and work time ?

If there any chance for me to visit another city for this year?

Thank you, take your time and don't rush yourself 💖

HELLO THERE! THANK YOU FOR JOINING, THANK YOU TOO FOR ENJOYING MY PACS.🩷૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

@eternalneo <3

(1) THE LOVERS - NINE OF PENTACLES - EIGHT OF SWORDS.

MAYBE. THE CARDS AREN'T SURE BECAUSE I'M GETTING THAT YOU ARE REALLY CONFUSED WETHER YOU'LL CHANGE INTO NEW ONE OR JUST STAY WITH THE CURRENT ONE, YOU WERE PARALYZED BY FEAR THIS IS THE CAUSE WHY YOU ARE UNABLE TO TAKE ACTION. I SEE, WITH THE LOVERS CARD BEING PRESENT, YOU ARE VERY DEVOTED WITH YOUR PROFESSION. YOU HAVE A HIGH PASSION FOR A PROJECT, I'M NOT QUITE SURE ABOUT WHAT JOB YOU ARE HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT CAN BE YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO WORK AT NIGHT, SOMEONE WHO WORK IN THE FIELD OF MENTAL HEALTH, ADMINISTRATION, MANAGER AND CAREERS INVOLVES WORKING IN PARTNERSHIP. YOU WILL HAVE MAJOR CHOICES WHEN IT COMES TO YOUR CAREER AND MOST OF THE TIME YOU WILL CHOOSE BETWEEN TWO OPTIONS BECAUSE EACH OPTION WILL BE EQUALLY TEMPTING FOR YOU AND EACH OF THEM HAVE VARIETY OF REASONS WHICH WILL BENEFITS YOU. FOR YOU THIS IS NOT JUST A SIMPLE DECISION TO MAKE. IF YOU ARE FIND YOURSELF TROUBLE MAKING DECISION WHEN IT COMES TO YOUR CAREER. I ADVICE IS GO WITH THE OPTION YOU CAN LIVE WITH FOR THE LONG HAUL. MAKE CHOICES WITH YOUR HEART AND NOT YOUR HEAD. I HOPE EVERYTHING I'VE SAID MAKE SENSE LOL.

(2) KNIGHT OF PENTACLES - TWO OF PENTACLES - ACE OF WANDS.

WEAK YES SINCE THERE'S STILL SMALL POSSIBLITY THAT THEY WON'T AGREE BUT THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTION IS MORE LEAN ON INTO "YES" SO LET'S BE POSITIVE ON THAT. I THINK WITH THE KoP BEING PRESENT HERE IT WILL TAKE TIME FOR THEM TO AGREE / ACCEPT (AoW) WITH YOUR REQUEST BECAUSE THIS CARD TALKS TO YOU THAT YOU NEED TO BE PATIENT. TRY TO FIND A BALANCE WITH YOUR JUGGLING LIFE.

ACE OF WANDS = ACCEPTING, KNIGHT OF PENTACLES = PATIENT.

(3) THE LOVERS - EIGHT OF PENTACLES - THE SUN.

YES BUT WITH THE EoP BEING PRESENT HERE THIS TALKS TO ME THAT YOU NEED TO TAKE AN ACTION TO MAKE THESE THINGS WORK. I THINK YOU WANT TO TRAVEL TO HAVE FUN, TO RECONNECT WITH PEOPLE, TO REST AND TO FEEL FREEDOM EVEN IN SMALL PERIOD TIME.

© daninixx | send tips & support

LEAVING A FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED! <3

#꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ danise event games giveaways #૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #thank you so much! #༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ the stars knows the answer ✧ . ˚ #yes or no event

[authormeat]

Mask Girl Mission

WARNING: Mention of Death, Mention of Break-In

It happened a week ago. The break in. Marked it down on the calendar as to remember. Now usually, I am able to remember things with ease, but there is always the chance I don’t remember and that could be a problem, especially when the days are sensitive and the opening is limited.

The house has been sealed off and locked down as tight as possible. Camera’s line the house and there has been an unmarked car on scene for the last three days. That’s why you wait. If you don’t then you’re destined to be caught or miss the chance. People can become too relaxed if they feel as though another one won't happen and even if another break in happens there’s the chance they might be moved for a good month while decoys are put in place. A cumbersome task done in an ass-backward way. Technically, they wouldn’t know. 

But I want them to know. I want them to know of my presence so as to ensure their deaths do not come lightly. They come with fears and regrets. Tapping the calendar there again it is the day. The officer isn’t here tonight, having decided they were safe once more. Incompetent is their task force, perfect for people such as myself. 

Exiting my van with me comes a machine usually used for oxygen. The pumping was made to be quiet with little noise due to the convenience of the person using it. The noise is grating on the ears after all if one is to pay attention. I’m in the golden hour. So enough about the machine I’m wasting time.

Carrying it in hand in the other is a kit. Used in lock picking, but inside it is a code I had written down after tapping their phone line. After all one needs a code to deactivate the security system inside. 7-3-4-9. Simple. Reaching the front door I turn my head up to the camera installed at their doorbell, giving a small wave and continuing on with the task of lockpicking the front door. 

Click.

Easy. Pushing it open I stride over to the security panel flicking the cover down and punching in the numbers. 7-3-4-9. It will be recorded that I've broken into the home, but that doesn’t matter. I want them to know just how pitiful and useless their systems are.

Rolling in the machine the house is only a single level, easily accessible through hallways. I set my machine up in their living room connecting all their rooms. Afterwards closing the front door. A couple bugs were let in, but that won’t matter. They’ll die with the family. Blood sucker mosquitoes. The neurotoxin will paralyze the family, then I will inject them with the toxin that will stop their hearts. It is easily accessible with the right ingredients, but I won’t be discussing them here.

It will be painful and they will be able to do nothing about it. In the end, even if they do wake up to the noise or begin to choke on the neurotoxin there is no way of escape. They’ve locked themselves in. It will take too long to open a locked window or a locked door. They are sealed in their own coffins.

Flicking on the machine the air is a toxic yellow, moving through the tubes attached to the tops and that I have stuffed under their doors. Placing a hand on my face the gas mask is in the way. A stylish one, made in a more steam-punk style with spikes around the spectacles and along the forehead moving up toward the top of the skull in two lines. 

I admire the craftsmanship to make my gas masks their own personalities. It truly is worth their eyes to be set upon. After a good hour I open the rooms as the smoke floods out from the parent’s bedroom. They are paralyzed, breathing but unable to move. As though they are experiencing sleep paralysis with their dream demon being me. What a beautiful image. I can only imagine their fear they feel upon seeing me enter their room. 

The air that catches in their throats, and the cold which washes their body in clawed clamminess. 

Circling the bed I take out the first vial from my belt, a needle from a pouch and twist it on with dirty gloves. These people were deemed fodder for The Tall Man, and in it they shall only be food. I treat them better than a slaughterhouse. I have no need to beat them, for their fight back is not needed. Moving her onto her back I inject her quickly, doing the same to her husband. Leaving them to die I set my attention on their children.

A singular child.

The same is done to them, as The Tall Man wishes for the whole family. So, upon completion of my job I drag each and every one of them out to my van in which I set their bodies into the back. Then I load in my machine with care. I am not heartless, instead doing them a service.

The Tall Man wishes for their deaths. I obey his commands as per our contract, less I face the wrath of The Debt Collector. His sheet allows him to phase through the forest and catch those in stride. I do not wish myself to be at the end of his bat.

Closing the doors I finally hop into the front, driving off with the bodies and letting the house air out my neurotoxin. When the neighbor is to call the police about the open door they will only find an empty house. I think again of the dead bodies in the back of my van. I did them a service, again I think. For when I bring their bodies to The Tall Man he will show no mercy to a corpse. Appendages and Segments, Eyes and Teeth, all consumed. Not even the bones are left. It is my job to bring Him food, nothing more nothing less. 

The Feeder - Mask Girl

#Mask Girl #creepypasta oc #creepypasta #slender proxy

[wiltingredroses]

Venomous: An Extreme Horror Novella Chapter 1: House Guests

Leaving a toxic relationship is always hard.

It's even harder when you've known the person since you were in girl scouts together.

It's harder still when they are currently draining the life out of some poor bastard on the living room floor.

The man's screams had long since been reduced to low, pained moans. Now he only stares up at me pathetically, silently begging for help. Not that I would, even if I didn't fear the monster hovering over his soon-to-be corpse.

I would not be losing sleep over his death. Had we not made him our victim tonight, he would have made one of some other poor girl. I'd caught him slipping something into his date's drink at the bar earlier tonight. Thankfully, I was able to warn her in time. Her swift exit allowed the two of us to swoop in and take her place. He didn't put up much resistance. How could he complain? Two willing girls offering to take him home instead of one that he'd have to drag back to his. He had no idea what was in store for him. 

She prefers girls, so do I, but men are so much easier. They'll follow you just about anywhere so long as there's a chance, no matter how small, that you will sleep with them.

I'm Maeve, and the monster masquerading as a human being is Evelyn. Or we were, at least, once upon a time. Today I am Diane, and she is Abigail. Last week, we were Chelsea and Mary Anne. Tomorrow, who knows? We concoct new identities for every town. We are Maeve and Evelyn only to each other.

Evelyn straightens up, wiping the blood from her mouth. She smiles at me in a way that tells me she wants me, here and now. The body on the floor twitched in away that leaves me unsure if he is alive or dead. She has a tendency to take her time with her food. She had been drinking him bit by bit for the past hour or so. If she likes a victim especially well, she can take days to finish them off. She must love me if that's the case. She's been draining me over the course of fifteen years.

Despite the unappealing company, the lust was mutual. She pounces on me, pinning me to the couch. One hand grabs my wrists and the other slips under my dress, trailing between my legs. She puts her mouth to my neck and bites down. She doesn't drink. She doesn't need to. The waste of human flesh growing cold on the floor will keep her sated for a while. A few days, at least. She rarely drinks from me. Only on a handful of desperate occasions has she ever needed to, and only enough to hold her over until we could find someone else. Each time she made me hold a stake to her heart for the duration, in case she found herself unable to stop. The biting was for another reason entirely, well, two really. For one, It was her way of marking her territory. She was always possessive, even when she was human. Secondly, because it felt so good.

The adrenaline rush from the kill fades in an instant as the venom from her bite takes over. It has a drug-like effect that acts as a sedative; Typically used to keep prey from running away. In large amounts, it paralyzes them.  In the early days it was a necessity. I wasn't always this blase about watching my girlfriend kill people in front of me. After the first time it happened, I was overcome with anxiety twenty four seven, unable to leave the house or even sleep without a significant amount of xanax. Once, during the midst of a particularly bad panic attack, she tried it on me out of pure desperation. It worked like a charm. She was more or less permanently attached to my neck for awhile. Whether it began to have long-term effects, or I just became used to the bloodshed, I'm still not sure. Either way, it is used almost exclusively for recreational purposes nowadays.

Any and all pain ceases to exist in this moment. Bad memories and trauma were forgotten. The all-consuming guilt that eats me alive every moment of every day is replaced with pure euphoria. What Evelyn is doing to me becomes nothing but background noise as my eyes roll back. A photo hanging on the wall stares back at me: a happy couple on their wedding day. They really were a beautiful couple. We hadn't known they were expecting until we discovered the half-decorated nursery, but it was far too late by then. The wife died quickly, at least: a rare act of mercy on Evelyn's part. The husband on the other hand... well, they're together now, at least.

-

It happened at a house party about four years ago. We had gotten into a fight and I stormed off back to our shitty motel room early. She didn't come back that night, or the next day. She finally stumbled in after dark, several shades paler with an insatiable thirst for something warm and crimson. Evelyn was the only survivor of a full-scale massacre that broke out shortly after I had left. The whole thing was a trap by the hosts themselves, luring in the local youths with the promise of booze and drugs. She never saw the monsters that turned her ever again. They changed her life forever and discarded her like trash on the side of the road.

Why did I stay, knowing my girlfriend was now an undead creature of the night that requires regular human sacrifices to sustain herself? Well, we have history. The kind of history a petty little thing like that can't even hope to overshadow. We've been friends since we were eight years old and started dating when we were in middle school. In the ass-backwards town we use to call home, this was not an accepted thing. We were outed at school pretty early on. It was hell, but it was nothing compared to what happened when the news got back to our families. My own parents were discussing the possibility of using my college fund to send me to one of those "pray the gay away" camps, whereas all Evelyn's parents could spare was a black eye and a split lip. She showed up at my window a few nights later with all her worldly possessions stuffed in a duffle bag. It didn't take a whole lot of convincing for me to join her, stealing what few valuables my parents had laying around on my way out.

We spent the next several years drifting from city to city, crashing on stranger's couches, cheap motels, and occasionally in Evelyn's truck when no other options were available. We had been offered more permanent housing over the years, almost exclusively by men, but we always declined. Their offers never came from the goodness of their hearts. They would usually accept just being allowed to watch as payment for a night or two, but eventually they would want in on the action. As long as we weren't having sex with them, we could pretend what we were doing wasn't really prostitution.

It was a difficult and scary life, but we were willing to put up with it as long as we were together. Besides, what a life on the road lacked insecurity and comfort, it made up for in fun and excitement. We made friends with strangers in every city. Within an hour in a new place Evelyn would score an invite to a party or the address of an exclusive local night club. One of her many talents was her ability to spot a dealer within minutes of arriving. We never had much money in those days, but somehow we always had money for drugs. That was what we were fighting about that night four years ago. I voiced my worries about her developing a drug problem, but she insisted she was fine despite spending what was suppose to buy us another two nights in an motel room on coke.

Eventually, we would both turn eighteen and were no longer on the run. We tried to settle down a time or two, getting what low-paying jobs a couple of high school dropouts could get. We were still struggling, without any of the benefits we use to enjoy. We decided if we were destined to be poor, we would at least make it fun. Then, Evelyn, love of my life, became a monster. The changes were subtle at first. Then her morals shifted even further into shades of gray. She became more aggressive, and her jealousy issues reached a fever pitch. I couldn't even make eye contact with the opposite sex without her trying to lure the guy into a dark corner and draining him of his life force. Slowly she went from killing out of necessity to killing for monetary gain, and eventually, just for fun. All the while I was too strung out on vampire venom to even care. It turns out I'm a hypocrite as well as a coward.

When I was finally able to be sober for more than a hour at a time, Evelyn had already racked up a body count comparable to that of civil war battle. Still, I stayed. What other option did I have? I've never known anything else. Besides, we have the best of both worlds now, right? We're never strapped for cash now, and we don't even have to work. We get to sleep in an actual bed every night and we don't even have to worry about bedbugs and cockroaches eating us alive as we sleep.

I hope that makes my current position understandable, if not excusable. The position being lying in the bed of a married couple that is currently decomposing in the basement, while my vampire girlfriend stares lovingly at me.

"Maeve, my love, It's time to wake up." She purrs. She sits on the ground next to the bed, her head resting atop her crossed arms on the mattress.

"Already?"I groan and look at the clock on the bedside table. It is only 5:00 PM. The sun hasn't even gone down yet. It is odd for her to wake before me. She was never an early bird, even when she was alive.

"I think we've overstayed our welcome here, darling. It's time to move on."

As reluctant as I am to be on the road again, I know that she's right. It had been a week already. We had made sure to tell the couple's respective workplaces that they would be out of town due to a family emergency, but that won't be sufficient for much longer. Messages on the answering machine have begun to pile up in the past few days. Concerned friends and family members are beginning to grow suspicious. It won't belong until they start showing up to the house. It is a shame. I was really getting use to the place.

Reluctantly, I sit up in bed and glance around the room. Our stuff has been strewn haphazardly across the floor, the dresser, the bedside tables and even the lampshades. When you never stay anywhere longer than a week, you don't really get into the habit of putting things away. Evelyn kisses me gently on the cheek before standing up. She begins combing through our stuff and picking out what was hers to pack into her bags. I yawn and stretch before joining her, working as quickly as I can this soon after waking up. We are on a time crunch to find a new place to stay before dawn.

"Remember to grab anything valuable!" She says, stuffing a watch into her suitcase. I know the drill. We have done this countless times already. After I am sure I have gotten the last of my stuff from the bedroom,I empty out the jewelry box sat atop the dresser. I grab anything that looked remotely valuable before discarding the rest. I have no way of knowing if any of it is even real. Surely some of it has to be.

Together, we make quick work of the place. We have our bags packed and sitting by the front door by sundown. We were going over the place for a third and final time when we hear a knock at the door. I look at Evelyn. She gestures to a ray of light from the setting sun shining on the carpet. It's all on me.

I grab a knife from the kitchen before approaching the front door. Evelyn stands a mere few feet away, hiding in the corner. It's not often that I'm put in charge of the kill, but it is sometimes necessary. I grip the knife behind my back as I open the door a crack to see a man on the doorstep.

Please don't be a cop.

"Hello? Can I help you?" I ask. The man seems familiar. I am sure I've seen him in a few pictures around the house. He must be a relative.

"Hello, are the Stephens home? My brother hasn't been returning my calls lately. Anyone's calls, actually. His family is getting really worried about him." He said, looking me up and down. Thankfully, I have a lie locked and loaded for this exact scenario.

"He didn't tell you? They're out of town at the moment. There was some kind of emergency with his wife's family. I've been house sitting for them while they're away." I respond in my signature sugary sweet singsong voice as I open the door wider.

"And you are?" He asked, still apprehensive.

"I'm Diane. My family lives next door." I responded. I don't know why I bother with a fake name. It won't matter in a few moments. I look behind him, at the truck parked in the driveway. He came alone. Good.

"Do you want to come inside?" I ask, stepping aside. He hesitates for only a moment before walking into the house. I have no ill will against this man, but I have no other choice. I'm in far too deep to back out. If only he had arrived half an hour later, he would have lived.

I quickly shut the door behind him once he is a good distance inside. Giving him no time to assess the situation, I lunge at him. He screams bloody murder as I plunge the knife into his back, which, given that it is bloody murder, is appropriate. Before I can pull it out, he spins around and backhands me across the face, knocking me to the ground. I lie there, ears ringing, vision blurred, too dazed to react.

"What the fuck did you do to them, you crazy bitch?" He yells, reaching down and pulling me up by my hair. With his other hand, he starts to pull the knife out of his back, grunting in pain, but too determined to stop. I don't even notice Evelyn stepping out of the shadows. He raises the bloody knife and for a few seconds I genuinely believe that these will be my last moments. Alas, before he can put an end to my miserable life, he is interrupted.

He never had a chance. Evelyn sinks her teeth into him before he even registers her presence. He falls into a heap on the floor before me. He is still breathing, but unable to escape as the venom flows through his veins. I feel Evelyn's soft fingers running through my hair as she gently whispers into my ear.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. The bad man won't hurt you anymore." Her words are of little comfort. In that moment, I wish she had been slower. I deserve whatever the man would have done to me. I know that I'm not the hero of this story. Evelyn may be a monster, but I'm her willing sycophant. I will do whatever she says, for no other reason than I can't imagine a life without her.

With little effort, she picks me up off the ground and cradles me in her arms . With a gentleness you wouldn't think possible of a creature like her, she carries me to the couch. I shut my eyes tight to stop the room from spinning. I can taste blood in my mouth. After a few moments, I hear the sound of a body being dragged down a flight of stairs, a sound I have become uncomfortably familiar with. The man's muffled screams travel up from the basement. I can't even begin to imagine what she is doing to him. Considering the kinds of things she did to innocent strangers that had never so much as looked at her the wrong way, I do not want to consider the fate of the man that had raised a hand at me.

I'm not sure how long the torture lasts. Eventually, the dizziness overcomes me to the point that I pass out. When I come to, Evelyn is standing over me, covered in blood and viscera. She smiles softly and kisses my forehead.

"We have to go now, baby."

-

Quickly, we shower and change out of our bloody clothes, stuffing them in a bag to be disposed of later. We have no way of knowing if the neighbors heard the screams. For all we know, the police are already on their way. We throw our stuff into the man's truck and peel out of the driveway, leaving the little suburban home behind. Switching out vehicles on the regular is necessary to avoid being tracked. We'll have to abandon it as soon as we can. It won't be long until the police are looking for it.

We drive for an hour straight before stopping. We want to get a good amount of distance between us and the rotting corpses in the basement before even considering our next moves. Eventually we stop at a gas station in a particularly sketchy part of a particularly sketchy town. I stay in the truck while Evelyn goes inside. I don't want to be seen by anyone in my current state. Were anyone to come around asking questions, my battered face will stick out like a sore thumb. She is gone for a good ten minutes before climbing back in the truck and dropping a paper bag in my lap.

"I just talked to guy inside that told me where we can go to fix our truck problem."

"That's a surprise." I respond, opening up the bag to find the painkillers and half dozen bottled coffees I had requested. Evelyn has a knack for identifying the seedy types. If someone is operating outside of the law, she can spot them quicker than the most seasoned of detectives.

"There's an auto repair shop not far from here that accepts cash and doesn't ask a lot of questions." She says, ignoring my comment.

"That's one problem solved. Where are we headed after?" I ask, unscrewing the cap of one of the bottles.

"We'll have to find a place to stay for the night while they work on the truck. Next we'll head to the nearest city and sell as much of the shit we took as we can. Then, I'm thinking New Orleans."

"Yeah okay, Lestat." I scoff, taking a drink. The coffee has the viscosity of syrup and is just as sweet. It is hardly gourmet, but it will have to do.

"Careful, or I just might make my very own Louis out of you." She says. I roll my eyes at the empty threat. I pop open the pain killers a swallow a small handful.

"Since when do you read?" I ask. In the fifteen years that I've known her, I've never seen her read a book that wasn't required for school. Even then, she usually just looked up the cliffsnotes online.

"I saw the movie. Well, most of it. I fell asleep. It had a happy ending right?"

"Yeah, Louis and Lestat make up and open a bed and breakfast in Vermont. The last ten minutes are just hardcore gay sex."

"I acknowledge your sarcasm, but choose to believe you regardless."

"It's true! Well, according to the fanfic I wrote 7th grade anyway." She laughs. Her laugh is one of the precious few things about her that hasn't changed. Every time I hear it I remember once again why I ran off with her in the first place.

-

The shop is just minutes away. Once again, I wait in the truck as Evelyn goes to talk to the men inside. Not that I would be of any use in this situation anyway. This was her expertise. It always has been. I never would have managed on my own without her.

After only a few minutes she returns with a man following after her. I roll down the window as she approaches.

"Well?" I call out to her.

"Frank here says he can do the job - and quick." She replies. I open the truck door and hop out, keeping the bruised and bloody side of my face hidden. Evelyn helps me unload our bags, making sure we don't leave behind anything incriminating.

We watch as he gives the truck a once over. It doesn't take him long before he finishes and walks over to where we are standing, wiping grease off his hands with a rag.

"Yeah, I can have it done by tomorrow night. Assuming quality is not a concern of yours." He says.

"It is not!" Evelyn replies, tossing the keys to him. Frank catches them and nods. Without another word, he climbs into the truck and drives it into the garage.

"Where are we staying until then?" I ask.

"A buddy of Frank's is going to give us a ride to the nearest motel. It's not gonna be luxury, but it will keep me from going up in smoke in the morning." As she says this, an old rusty pickup truck pulls out from behind the building and drives up next to us.

"Get in, ladies!" A bald, grungy man wearing mud covered overalls calls out. I exchange a glance at Evelyn. I suppose we don't have much choice. We let out a collective sigh, grab our bags, and climb inside.

#writing #creative writing #horror #extreme horror #horror stories #writers on tumblr #venomous

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. this took fucking forever. BUT I AM DID IT! apparently experiencing a significant amount of anger, loneliness, and heartbreak does shit to an mf! cw for death

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link. || Directory.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 1.7k

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. death & grieving. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 7 — Familiar Taste of Poison

That night, after finding the orphanage to take care of the young boy Lanqing, Hauteclaire spends the rest of her Mora on wine. After sufficiently getting drunk off her behind, she trudges and wobbles out of the city. Now that she has the right medicine for Eduard, she can finally resume taking care of him (and hoping that Ramona gets off her back.)

Although, in the dead of night as she walks along the manmade path back to Mondstadt…

A Treasure Hoarder's arrow pierces her right through the back—spearing an artery near her heart. Stumbling forward, she soon collapses to the ground with a grunt. Then, she feels her body growing numb and still—just like so many years ago. Unable to physically panic, her mind begins to run.

(It better not be the Abyss again… It couldn't be Hilichurls, they don't know how to make or use paralytics. Who is it, then—?) She snaps out of her drunken haze, the fear settling in. And then she hears grave voices.

"I think we shot down the wrong person…" A human voice utters as several sets of footsteps approach her paralyzed body.

(I need to play dead… Maybe they're dumb enough.) She remains as still as possible. (They're definitely human, too… Thankfully.)

"We didn't get a description of the person from that…contact, so I'm pretty sure we got the wrong lady." Another voice chimes in.

"Ugh, now we need to hide the body. Remove that arrow and she'll be dead in seconds." Someone with confidence in their tone says, and she can only assume it's their commander.

Dead in seconds, huh? That's what they think, she smirks mentally.

—

Waking in the early hours of the morning—the silence and darkness that traps her are deafening. While stuck, she judges that she's in a shallow, poorly-made grave. Sighing mentally, she then uses the rest of her strength to start digging out of the small burial mound. 

Finally finding air and sunlight once more, she takes a deep breath. Her hands grasp the bottom edge of the rectangular grave, pulling her head just above ground. Her stark yet pale golden eyes find the grave diggers without struggle and with a smirk,

"If the Abyss can't hold me down, neither can hell."

—

After knocking out the last gravedigger—with fists and fury alone—she spares their lives. She's not the murdering type, at least according to herself. Although, despite sparing them, their unconscious bodies still litter the gravesite. She scoffs, throwing all three of them—one by one—into the shallow hole. 

Reap what you sow, as they say. 

With that done, she moves on with her new day—doing her damnedest to take it easy and avoid trouble at the same time. Covered in lots of dirt and some blood, she trudges back to Mondstadt, even through rain and mud. 

But little does she realize...

—

Arriving back in Mondstadt, Hauteclaire yawns loud and clear while the sun hovers overhead. As she yawns longer than anticipated, she pats her hands over every pocket on her person. At first, relatively empty pockets didn't strike her as odd—no thanks to her tired condition. But, when it hits her that her pockets are empty...

Then she realizes that all her belongings are gone.

Gone.

(Dammit! I should've checked my pockets before I left!) Her teeth clench behind her lips that screw shut. Immediately, her body tenses up. (My keys... My wallet... The medicine...) Her eyes tightly shut, holding back frustrated tears that well up.

Then, she stares down at her trembling hands—seeing the blood of all her mistakes on her hands. But, in the end, it's a mere hallucination. One she can't get past even to this day.

...The Void Realm has its way of leaving lingering effects on a person like that.

"No... No... It's all my fault—"

"Oh, Lady Hauteclaire, there you are—" A familiar voice chimes in—polite and gentle, yet anxiety is apparent from the tremble in the voice. "Are you alright...?" They follow up, noticing her strange behavior.

"Ah!" Hauteclaire gasps, nearly screaming instead. She shakes off her worries and stress for the moment only to see Jean in front of her. 

It's been so long since they've talked... One can guess that's simply what growing up does.

"Oh, I'm sorry—!" Jean jumps slightly, "I didn't mean to scare you..." She explains with a slow voice, not wanting to further spook her old babysitter.

Hauteclaire takes in a few deep breaths to recompose herself, "It— It's alright." She nods, looking right as rain as she can manage within moments. "What's up?"

"Ah, well..." Jean flusters a little, a soft pink tint rising to her cheeks. She then clears her throat and straightens her back, "I've been...temporarily promoted to the Grandmaster position of the Knights. It's only while Grandmaster Varka is away." She explains, albeit still rather sheepishly.

"I see. Congratulations on such a strenuous promotion. I mean... It's wonderful as it is strenuous. But, still, I think you're the perfect candidate." Hauteclaire assures.

"You truly think so?" Jean gasps a little, a tiny smile making its way to her lips. "Well, uhm—" Then her face falls again, "I've been stuck... Or, at least, that's how it feels these past couple of first days as the new Acting Grandmaster." Her gaze drifts away, staring out to the city laid before them.

"About what specifically?"

"I am...unsure of how to divide my attention to so many tasks. I am already adjusted to being so busy, but this is a whole new level."

"You should ask your coworkers their thoughts on that, I think. I don't have much—if any at all—expertise as a knight, so I wouldn't be able to provide much of anything that's substantial." Hauteclaire explains, "Regardless, you should listen to others' thoughts and opinions almost always. They can offer new perspectives and insight."

"Oh! That's perfect!" Jean lights up, looking back at the older woman again with sparkles in her eyes, "Th-thank you so much, Lady Hauteclaire." She nods, "I must be off now, but... I will repay you with some dinner tonight if that's alright." 

"Sure." Hauteclaire nods back.

And with that, Jean rushes off back to the Knight's headquarters. Hauteclaire sighs and rubs either side of her aching nose bridge with both hands.

—

No one has seen Ramona in the flower shop today despite the sign on the window saying it's open. Some patrons threatened to call in one of the Knights to look for the young owner, but every person rejected the idea as soon as it came into their heads. Instead, they would leave the shop and go to the other florist in the city to get what they were pining for.

None of them know how her unsteady breaths and quaking sobs fill every corner of the hardly lit room she sits in. Her warm hand grasps the colder one that lies limp next to her on the sofa. She whimpers and sniffles—she no longer cares about the bitter stench of death around her.

"I'm sorry, Papa... I couldn't do anything for you after all..." She chokes on more of her salty tears, "I'm so pathetic..." She sighs, relief washing over her from the solitary moment of being able to breathe.

Her tired brown eyes flit open halfway, barely managing a half-hearted glare at the brand-new Dendro Vision that rests on the floor in front of her. Its green glow illuminates her face and the wooden ceiling.

"Even the Gods are mocking me for my incompetence..." 

"Ramona? I'm back!" A familiar voice shouts from the nearby foyer.

It's Hauteclaire.

“Clara…” Ramona mutters without an ounce of energy. And then her eyes fall shut once more as the older woman enters the dimly lit room. She's now lost the energy to say a single word more.

"...Ramona?" Hauteclaire speaks once more, the stench of the deceased hardly budges her—or even alerts her. After spending so much time in the Abyss, the scent of death is almost a breath of fresh air compared to that suffocating, inodorous darkness. Mondstadt's sweet breezes were more jarring than human expiration.

Of course, while it takes time, the tired woman catches onto the scent. She doesn't gag—it doesn't even make her eyes water. If anything—it's familiar to her, bringing a faint sense of nostalgia. She doesn't revel in it, though, she moves on as she must. Death is all but a cold and familiar embrace.

"...I was too late." The family friend bemoans in a subdued tone, one hardly audible. "Ramona. Listen to me." She approaches the young lady, grabbing her arm—

Smack!

Now there's a red hand mark across her cheek.

"Leave me alone! Leave me with him! Please, one more hour!" Ramona wails, her sobbing fit coming back to her tenfold as she curls up closer to the side of the sofa. "Please... Please... Come back, Papa..." She whimpers and whines before choking on her tears, gagging on her own snot and grief.

Hauteclaire doesn't budge, but her grip on Ramona's arm loosens to a more comfortable grasp. When she begins to choke a little too hard on her tears, Hauteclaire pulls her to her feet before throwing the shorter lady over her shoulder. Ramona's eyes screw shut even tighter as she begins to kick and scream, "Let me go! Let me go!" Yet Hauteclaire ignores her desperate demands.

They arrive outside in the sunlight—it's still as bright and warm as ever. The sun doesn't simply yield to death, the stars shine even in darkness. Hauteclaire sets Ramona down on her feet again—and when the younger woman tries to charge back inside, the older one pulls her in close.

"You need sunlight," Hauteclaire advises; her voice abruptly soft, contrasting her firm hold around her. "Please, Ramona, breathe... Deep breaths from your stomach, alright?" She whispers, watching her do as told, "Thank you. That's a good girl." She runs a hand through Ramona's messy hair, bringing some solace to her grieving heart.

"Bring him back... Bring him back, Clara..." Ramona weeps, her weary head falling against the other's shoulder. Her eyes are heavy as stone from the hours of grieving, it's a feat by itself that she can keep them open enough to lock eyes with the one holding her. "Or... Or...keep holding me. For just a while longer..." A heavy sigh leaves her chest, eyes finally shutting from exhaustion.

"...I will, Ramona. I will do exactly that."

And so she did. 

Navigating the lightning storm of grief and heartbreak is something none can prepare for. But, at least silently existing in someone's arms for a while helps a little, right? 

To hold and to be held is human, after all.

#mine #genshin impact #oc #original character #fic: ancient dreams in a modern land #canon x oc #oc x canon #ship: zhongclaire #eventual romance

[bewitchingfanfiction]

ST 2022/06/26

The moment El hit the floor, they knew they were screwed.

No number of rocks, bats, or even guns could protect them from this monster. They were at Billy’s mercy the second he broke out of the sauna.

And to say they were terrified would be an understatement.

Max was paralyzed where she stood, and Will and Lucas weren’t faring much better.

But Mike wasn’t frozen. Was he scared? Absolutely. He’d be insane to not feel fear right now.

And what he was doing was stupid. He was going to die for this. He knew that.

But that didn’t mean he hesitated for even a second before storming over to Billy, who was choking El with his bare hand, and smacking him over the head with a metal rod.

“GO TO HELL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” He hissed when Billy collapsed to the floor. He went to hit him again.

But Billy grabbed the rod before it could make good contact and tossed it aside as he stood up.

Mike stepped back until he was pressed against the wall, eyes wide with fear as Billy approached him.

He already knew there was nothing he could do. He didn’t have powers; he wasn’t a superhero.

But he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do whatever he could to protect El, so he had no regrets.

Mike closed his eyes; he’s accepted his fate.

Only…the hit never came. Mike’s eyes shot open to see something incredible.

Billy was being levitated into the air, and suddenly El was in front of him, blood pouring from her nose and her hands stretched outwards towards Billy, a furious and unforgiving expression resting on her face.

"DON'T...TOUCH... HIM!!!" She all but roared before sending Billy through the brick wall.

One look at everyone else told Mike they were all in shock. They were all certain El was down for the count; out of energy.

But here she was, standing in front of Mike like some kind of knight in shining armor.

Like a superhero.

El’s loud sobs rang out as she collapsed backwards against Mike, legs turned to jelly. Mike wrapped his arms around her in a tight hold as they slid down against the wall.

“Mike…” El hiccupped, turning her head weakly to look at him with eyes full of tears. “You’re not hurt…tell me you’re not hurt.” She croaked, unable to do anything but lean against him. She was completely drained.

He smiled tearfully down at her, his hold tightening. “Thanks to you. I’m fine…really, hey,” He brought a hand up to her cheek to wipe some of her tears away, looking into her eyes. “I’m fine, I promise.”

El sniffled and gave a weak smile in return.

But her smile didn’t last long, as her eyes filled with more tears and a look of terrible regret formed. “Oh Mike…I-I don’t care if you lied, I still love you…Max said to break up with you because you were treating me bad but…but I don’t think that’s true… you…have always been kind to me.”

She may have not known much kindness in her life, but what she did know is that Mike was never someone she considered evil or cruel.

Mike was safe.

He was home.

Mike let out a breathy chuckle, running a hand through her hair. “I’m supposed to apologize to you. I-I hurt you and I am…so sorry. I just didn’t want you taken away from me…but it happened anyway.”

As the others gazed outside to see what was happening with Billy, Mike glanced at them briefly before smiling down at El.

“You know…my friends have given me a lot of advice lately on how to handle our relationship, you know back when we had one…but I’m done listening. This is our relationship El, not theirs. And all I know is…is…” His voice quieted as he struggled to get the words out, tears filling his eyes in mild frustration. “I…I love you, El. Please…don’t leave me.”

El weakly pulled herself up to press her forehead against his. “Never. Never again Mike. Never again. I love you too.” She pressed her lips against his and suddenly all the problems in the world didn’t seem so big anymore.

The two stood up from the floor and went over to the others. Billy had run off.

They still had a world to save, but something about holding El’s hand in his own, made Mike believe it would all truly be okay in the end.

As long as they were together, they could beat anything.

[steveezekiel]

FAITH: KEY TO KINGDOM FULFILMENTS

5. "Now when Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, pleading with Him,

6. saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, dreadfully tormented.”

7. And Jesus said to him, “I will come and heal him.”

8. The centurion answered and said, “Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But only speak a word, and my servant will be healed.

9. For I also am a man under authority, having soldiers under me. And I say to this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

10. When Jesus heard it, He marveled, and said to those who followed, “ASSUREDLY, I SAY TO YOU, I HAVE NOT FOUND SUCH GREAT FAITH, NOT EVEN IN ISRAEL!

13. Then Jesus said to the centurion, “GO YOUR WAY; AND AS YOU HAVE BELIEVED, SO LET IT BE DONE FOR YOU.” AND HIS SERVANT WAS HEALED THAT SAME HOUR."

Matthew 8:5-10,13 (NKJV)

• Without faith you cannot please God.

- Faith pleases God while unbelieve displeases Him: "BUT WITHOUT FAITH IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PLEASE HIM, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, AND THAT HE IS A REWARDER OF THOSE WHO DILIGENTLY SEEK HIM" (Hebrews 11:6).

- Whoever wants to walk with God would have to do it by faith. The key to walk intimately with God is Faith.

- Those who would be great in the kingdom are the people who are willing to risk their Lives in obeying God's Word—His Instructions.

WHEN you live in obedience to God's Word, you are living by faith.

- Those who belong to God's kingdom on earth are known by their faith.

FAITH is a major key to live a successful Christian Life.

• Building your faith

- If faith is a major key in the kingdom, It means you have to possess it to have access to whatever belongs to you in the kingdom.

- Every believer has a responsibility to build or develop their Faith.

FAITH is built in the furnace of afflictions and challenges of life.

- Faith is built by the application of the Word of GOD in order to handle challenges of Life that may come the way of any believer.

- As you apply the Word of God TO whatever challenge that come you Way, and overcome, you are promoted in the School of Faith—you move up to another level of Faith.

- Another person's Faith can only take you so far, only to a limited degree, because God expects you to grow your faith and have enough of it that could earn you whatever you are in need of in Life.

- No one else can build up your faith FOR you, and If you failed to do it, you will be at the mercy of false prophets, the devil and his agents.

- The language of the kingdom which God does understand is faith. WHERE Faith is lacking, God cannot work, He is limited and incapacitated through unbelief—and unable to do anything.

EVEN Jesus who possesses the Anointing without measure could not do much in His home Town, Nazareth, because of their unbelief: "NOW HE [Jesus] DID NOT DO MANY MIGHTY WORKS THERE [Nazareth] BECAUSE OF THEIR UNBELIEF" (Matthew 13:58).

- Unbelief would hinder the flow of the power of God, no matter the level of the Anointing on that individual Minister or person!

JESUS could not work where faith is missing, even in His own country (Matthew 13:54-58).

- Your quick response to God's Word and Instructions is a way to develop or build a STRONG faith.

- Someone who gives no priority to the Word of God would continually live in fear and anxiety (Philippians 4:6,7).

• Some despise the teachings of the Word of God, All they want is that someone should pray for them; SUCH cannot live a victorious life.

PRAYER could only work through the knowledge of the Word of God.

- The knowledge of the Word of God, and the understanding of it, makes prayer a result oriented one—makes It effective and effectual.

PRAYER that would get heaven's attention should be wrapped around the Word of God.

- The Word of God empowers prayer, SO the first step to receive answers to your Prayers IS through the possessing of a strong knowledge of the Bible.

THE Word of God will move you to pray, both the prayer and the Word are interdependent.

YOU cannot have the Word of God and not be burdened to pray, AND your prayer cannot be effective without the knowledge of Word of God.

- If you take one and neglect the other, you may not get the result desired.

- Pay attention to the Word of God, give time to it; read, study, and meditate or ponder on it prayerfully.

- When you do that, you will RECEIVE the light and direction on what to do, and how to package or put your Prayers before God.

• Faith grows in trials, tribulations, and afflictions.

WHEN problems come your way, It is a means of promoting you, moving you to higher levels in the School of faith.

- When you overcome, conquer in a battle, you move to the higher levels in the School of faith.

- You will perpetually remain a baby Christian If you refused to exercise your faith when challenges of Life come (Hebrews 5:12-14).

YOU do not have to run from a problem, you confront it with the Word of God and prayers, in order to overcome (Hebrews 10:35).

THE triumphant saints do not run away from battles, they face it squarely and overcome; you are not expected to cry, fret, or be jittery when challenges or problems come your way: "FOR WHATEVER IS BORN OF GOD OVERCOMES THE WORLD. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our Faith" (1 John 5:4).

EVERY problem you overcome leads to promotion in the School of Faith, Thus problems are means of promotion or elevation in God's kingdom.

IN other words, BEING lifted or promoted in the kingdom is via problems and challenges.

- Faith in the Word of God gives an answer to whatever problem of Life;

AND faith comes through the knowledge of the Word of God: BY obeying or practicing the Word that you have been taught, that is, putting the Word to work.

- The Centurion's faith moved Jesus to perform the miracle of healing in the life of the Centurion's servant (Matthew 8:8,9).

THE faith that will move God to act in the matters of your life must be active, and not passive faith.

FAITH that is willing to step out, move and act, BY the leading of the Holy Spirit.

- If you are dull of hearing, you may not be able to move if you cannot hear God when He is speaking, or telling you what to do, Thus your hearing hear must be opened.

- Some could not move when God is speaking because they were unable to hear His voice.

GOD is telling some to quit what they are doing and move to another level but they could not hear Him speaking;

HE is telling some to sow seeds, that is, GIVE, for the doors to open for them, but they have not been able to understand and discern what He is saying;

AND the solution to some people's problems is to start winning souls for Christ that He may move on their behalf, but they have not heard what He is saying.

SOME reasoned God's Word out, the instructions given to THEM without doing them;

THEY want to talk themselves out of it: Saying What would Giving, Soul-winning, and Working in the house of GOD do about the situations or problems they are passing through.

- God's ways and thoughts are different: 8 "FOR MY THOUGHTS ARE NOT YOUR THOUGHTS, NOR ARE YOUR WAYS MY WAYS,” says the Lord. 9 “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8,9).

• Believe God, His Word, and His SERVANT that you may move to the next level of your greatness.

STOP arguing with what God has said, believe it, there is your breakthroughs and miracles.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

#christianity #christian living #gospel #christian blog #jesus #the bible #devotion #faith #my writing #prayer

[cartoon-thembo]

VENT self loathing suicide tw

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I want someone. I want someone I can talk to and listen for hours without the drainage that comes with it. that I can be in silence with without my skin crawling, needing to fill it with words or else feeling like I’m gonna drown. I want someone I can go with to places I actually want to go to without feeling the need to constantly apologize about wasting their time. I want someone who enjoys the same things as I do so I don’t feel guilty sharing them with them, but that can also share with me things that I never imagined I could love too. I want to be able to be loud and excited about things and not being cringed at in response. I want to live with someone and not be locked in my room, nonsensically paralyzed with fear, unable to step out to go to the bathroom in case there’s someone who might see me. I want to hold someone’s hand. I want someone to see my body as something better than the mutilated, hairy, gross parody of transmasculine bodies you would see in a TERF Facebook post that it is. I want to be wanted. I want to be in love and know that I, the real, whole, me, am loved back. I’m so tired of being an unlovable burden. I would have ended it all a while ago… I would have ended it three months ago, I would have ended it last week, I would have ended it yesterday, if not for the slim hope I will someday be found by them, as I’m such a lazy, terrified piece of shit I can’t even look for them myself.

Ironically I’m also afraid of anyone having any interest in me. I’m far from being even remotely attractive in appearance but the worse thing is that beyond the surface there isn’t anything better. I’m annoying. I’m not interesting enough to take seriously. I’m the sad excuse of a person that would buy those robots that keep you company in those sci-fi movies. I’m pathetic. This is what someone would find if they looked. And I think I prefer the fantasy of this perfectly tailored fairytale person to see me instantly and completely without me ever having to slowly and painfully go through the process of baring my soul to another person, hoping every time that it’s not gonna be the last straw for them to come to their senses and easily find anyone else who’s better in every possible way.

[furiousgoldfish]

Learning more about trauma recovery, I realized that even if we all have similar cptsd symptoms (emotional flashbacks, inner shame and guilt, abandonment issues, fear of other's negative reactions to us, fight/flight/freeze/fawn response, highly anxious behaviour, perfectionism, catastrophizing, chronic exhaustion and pain, panic attacks, struggle expressing anger, dissociation, grief, negative thinking, fear of the future, hopelessness, suicidal ideation) it's usually one or two of them that are specifically strong and tako a hold of someone's entire personality. For instance, someone will try to find a way out of fear by constantly doing more and more and try to always be perfect, another one will freeze and do nothing in a stressful situation; some will avoid people altogether, some will run from one painful relationship to another. Some might find their inner critic so powerful they get unable to do anything due to the constant shame and berating from inside of their head, and some will sink into dissociation and numbness in order to withstand being alive.

For me, it was the inner catastrophizer that was so loud, overbearing, and impossible to fight; I hadn't recognized it as a trauma symptom because I believed every bit of it was true. My imagined catastrophe was dying from lack of resources, or being tortured to death. Both felt like a very likely scenarios to happen because I do live in poverty, with minimal resources, and I've already experienced torture so it seemed like it's highly possible for it to happen again. I couldn't see that I've survived years on my own, without any help, and that I've became more resourceful than most people, or that I had saved myself from torture and kept myself safe. Every single time a minor stress would appear, I would spiral into wild scenarios of myself homeless, dying, or in unbearable pain. It would trigger a nervous breakdown, lots of flashbacks, panic attacks, and bring me to such highly anxious state I wouldn't be able to move for days. I didn't see a way out of this, I believed I was brainwashed to experience this over and over again, and panicked severely when it started getting worse.

It was only when I found out about other survivors having the exact same imagined catastrophy, I was able to see it was fake. People with jobs, friends, family, loved ones, resources and safety, were having the exact same fear of dying homeless. Circumstances don't matter to the catastrophizer, it will find a path to your worst, most painful scenario even if it's next to impossible for it to happen.

Reading the 'Complex PTSD' book, I learned that these catastrophic thoughts can and should be de-escalated and stopped in their tracks by a stream of logical, factual thoughts that challenge the unlikeliness and fakeness of the imaginary disaster. I trained my mind to do it immediately, unspeakably relieved to know it's something I can do on my own, it's do-able, it's progress I can make just by arguing with my own thoughts!

Ever since that day, I haven't allowed myself to spiral into a catastrophic thoughts once, and it's done wonders for my recovery. It was like dragging myself from the bottom of the pit to a place where I could breathe again. I only now acknowledge how extremely damaging it was on my body to be broken down like that regularly, how impossible it was to live always followed by that terror, how unreasonable it was to expect from myself to endure it. I still break down a lot, but from grief, which is healthy for me to break down about, and it doesn't throw me into a paralyzing pit of terror.

I also need to acknowledge that this is not something I'd be able to do at the beginning of the recovery; at the start I had every single symptom screaming in my face, it was all I could do to stay alive thru it all. Over the course of several years, a lot of the symptoms quieted down on their own, just because I was getting used to life in a non-abusive environment. The catastrophizer was one that kept getting bigger and more stressful as others got smaller and more manageable.

I believe most of my symptoms died down because I was allowing myself to seek out a comfort zone; giving myself a place to feel safe and not triggered by whatever, gave me a lot of peace, a refuge to hide in. After finding a little peace of the world I was safe in, this world began to expand, until I saw a way to have a life in it. It has its limits, of course, and if I try doing certain things I will absolutely get triggered and my well-being will be obliterated. But I'm not looking for a life where I can do everything. Only to stay alive, and to not be in terror. It's a humble yet very complicated desire for a traumatized person to have.

I no longer have to actively stop my catastrophic thoughts; my brain now does it for me. If I start spiraling, a voice in my head will go 'Wait a minute, that doesn't sounds realistic, isn't it more likely x will happen and it will be okay? Come on, you don't have to be terrified about this, because it's not real. It will be okay, and here's every single instance where a similar event went well for you. You will pull thru this one, and even if you don't, the consequence won't be death, or torture, or everyone alive hating you. At worst you will feel slightly bad, so it's okay to feel good now. You've done a lot to get this far. All will be well.'

And that is a very pleasant inner voice to have, and I am grateful for it. I wish so badly that I had this earlier in life, but I guess looking at my parents, there was no way.

What is your worst reoccurring symptom that stops you from progressing in your recovery? If you feel like you're at the stage where you can recognize it and talk about it, it would be beneficial for everyone recovering to read more experiences.

#trauma recovery #cptsd #complex ptsd #healing from trauma #furiousgoldfish #inner catastrophizer #inner voices #de-escalating #recovery #story

[nagipops]

SWEET NOTHINGS, BITTER ENDINGS PART II.

SUMMARY: in which your precious life is ended through a cruel twist of fate by your beloved brother.

WARNINGS: blood, profanity + SPOILERS for KNY chapter 115

A/N: link to part one.

He heard a deafening roar cry out from a distance away as crows frantically flapped out of the trees and into the sky above.

A demon?

Sheathing his blade, the hashira began to sprint to the source of the noise coming from the east.

The first scent he picked up on was blood. It was faint, but it was there. But it wasn’t demon blood.

Human blood?

As he continued to travel east, heart racing, he heard crashing up ahead and quickly dove into a nearby bush to scout out the intruder. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted a flash of pink and green. Mitsuri?

He cautiously searched the area for any signs of demons before following after the pink haired girl.

“Kanroji!” he barked as the girl’s head perked up at the sound of her name. She whipped around, her green eyes lighting with relief.

“Sanemi!” She bounded over to him, grasping his shoulders tightly with shaking arms. "Sanemi, where did (Y/N) go? Did you meet up with her?"

His veins turned to ice. The human blood he smelled. The spine-chilling roar he heard.

Sanemi opened his mouth to speak, but all he could manage was a petrified shake of his head.

The light green eyes facing him widened with fear. "Oh, god... oh god oh god oh god..." She snapped out of her horrified trance as another pained howl pierced through the midnight air and her eyes locked with the wind hashira's once more. Steeling their gazes, the two pillars sped off to the direction of the noise.

If there was one thing Sanemi wished to erase from his memory forever, it would be the sight of his mother, a feral demon ripping her own children to shreds with her own fangs and claws.

If there was another thing Sanemi wished to erase from his memory forever, it would be the horrific scene splayed out in front of him.

Thick ash billowing into the air. The rancid stench of rotten flesh and blood.

The sight of his little sister crouching on the ground.

With pearly white skin.

With raking, hooked claws.

With red, watery eyes.

With glinting ivory fangs.

With the scent of a demon flowing from her body, her limbs, her breaths,

Her blood.

The wind hashira stood paralyzed to the ground, mortified at what he was seeing with his own two eyes.

His little sister.

A demon.

This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“S-sanemi...” a soft whisper sounded from his right. He slowly turned his head to find the love hashira’s horrified gaze locked onto the demon in front of her. “She’s— she...”

Mitsuri began to collapse to the ground, but not before Sanemi could wrap his arms around her frail, trembling body, his mouth still agape.

“What do we do?” she whimpered weakly, still staring in shock at her sister— no, the demon in front of her. “Sanemi, what do we—”

“I don’t know!” he snarled, vengeance and frustration bubbling within his body. Not again. This was not happening to him again. Setting down the girl onto her feet, shuddering hands moved to the sheath of his blade. “She’s— she’s a demon. We... we have to.”

“No!” Mitsuri cried, tackling him to the ground. “Stop! She’s our sister!”

Sanemi clenched his teeth with such resentment that you could hear them scraping against each other. “You think I don’t know that?!” he shouted at his comrade, his harsh voice breaking in his throat. “You think I want to do this?!”

Tears spilled from the green eyes hovering over him, but no words escaped her lips. Her head shook softly, unable to grasp the fact that this was reality. This was real. This wasn’t some cruel nightmare. Her sister was a demon.

Mitsuri fell to the ground as the white-haired pillar shoved past her shoulder, drawing his blade as he stared down the growling demon in front of him.

“(Y-Y/N)...” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the handle of his sword, gritting his teeth. “You idiot...”

Just then, a flash of purple materialized in front of him and the scent of flora clouded his senses.

“Shinazugawa-san,” the lilting voice warned. “Please step back.”

Sanemi growled, his furious eyes clouding with the urge to shove away the small girl in front of him.

An iron grip suddenly clutched at the sleeve of his haori.

“Stop.” The wind hashira heard the voice he loathed so much speak resolutely into his ear.

“Piss off!” he barked, snapping his arm to release it from the water pillar’s grip. But it was no use, as the hashira’s hold stayed firm. “I’m the only one who can do this! None of you have had to kill your own family members before!”

Giyuu’s eyebrows furrowed with bitterness as he pinned his comrade’s arms behind his back. “That’s enough. We’re taking her back to headquarters to consult with Ubuyashiki. The mission is over.”

The rest of the hashira stared down at the demon in front of them in horror.

The determined eyes, the confident smile, the warm aura of a little sister...

It was all gone.

“A demon...” the stone pillar wept, clasping his hands together and sending a silent prayer to the heavens for their lost sister.

The youngest pillar narrowed his eyes at the demon. “She’s not human at all any more, is she?”

Giyuu pulled on the rope restraining her, shaking his head. “She was... she was trying to speak while we brought her here,” he said softly, recalling how painful it was for the hashira to hear her pained screams and cries as they carried her home. “It seems like... she isn’t able to fully speak yet.”

The demon with the rope around her neck thrashed and snarled, baring her sharp white fangs and clawing at the hashira standing around her. Her catlike pupils dilating, she lunged forward at the flame pillar with a roar. “Rrrahh! He— hckk...” Giyuu tugged on the rope once more, stopping her just a few inches from Rengoku’s chest as she went limp.

“Rengoku-san!” Mitsuri cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. None of the hashira knew what to do with their sister. This monster in front of them.

How were they, the pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps, whose duty is to slay all demons, going to kill their own sister?

Did they have to?

“H-he-lp...”

All heads whipped to their sister crawling on the ground, her mouth agape and her red eyes watering.

“H-hel-p... end... m—”

Something shifted in her eyes. As if she was finally able to see clearly for the first time.

Her crimson orbs widened, her claws reaching to her pale face as though she was making sure she was real. She sat there, knees folded underneath her, touching and patting her demonic body with wonder.

The hashira locked eyes with each other in concern.

Has she regained consciousness? Would she turn malicious? Will she recognize who we are? Does she know we’re her siblings?

A broken sob pierced through the air as all of the pillars turned to the center of the circle once again.

One gnarly claw sat over her heart, the other covering her pale mouth. A steady flow of tears poured from her glistening scarlet eyes as she kept her gaze trained on the ground in front of her.

“I-I’m...”

Giyuu gazed at her with sorrow. Shinobu’s eyes filled with sympathy. Mitsuri clasped her hands over her mouth, letting out a sob. Obanai lightly touched her shoulder. Gyomei’s tears began to flow faster. Sanemi stood paralyzed with shock.

“A... de... mon...”

The wind hashira raised a shaking finger, pointing at his sister kneeling on the ground. “O-oi...” he started, his voice trembling. “She can— she can talk...”

Moving to crouch in front of the demon was the insect pillar who tentatively reached a cautious arm onto her bony white shoulder. “My little butterfly... Can you hear me?”

Crimson eyes slowly slid over to meet violet ones, tears still trickling out of them. Her head nodded at an excruciating pace, seemingly sapping all of her energy.

“Good. I am your older sister, Shinobu, and these are all of your siblings, you see?” Her soft, kind voice unwavered, as though she had comforted demons like this countless times during her life. She turned and swept one arm out to the hashira standing before her, the other trained firmly on the younger girl’s back.

Staring before you were the nine pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps. Your nine older siblings locked their grief-stricken eyes with yours. You could barely hear your sister's voice over the thumping sound of blood rushing through your body.

You were so thirsty. You were so tired. You just wanted to sleep. Forever.

“... friends, okay?” the soft voice carried you out of your thoughts. “(Y/N)? Are you still with us?”

You felt your lips part, but no sound came out. Panic rose throughout your body as you tried and failed, and tried and failed again to speak.

The hashira before you looked at each other in concern before the one behind you piped up. “Use your body to speak if you can,” the calm voice spoke. “I’ll keep her on the rope just in case.”

Your stinging eyes moved to meet with pained dark blue ones as his pale hands wrapped firmly around the rope your frail body was attached to.

Nodding slowly— gods, it was so painful— you reached a hand over to one side of your rope-bruised neck and dragged it over to your other side, making a cutting motion.

The hashira gaped at you in horror.

“You... you want us t-to kill you?” The white-haired male yelled, the pulsing veins in his blank eyes straining as they peered into yours.

They were red.

Blood.

You needed blood. You craved it so, so badly. You could feel it bubbling in your gut and spreading from the tips of your clawed toes to your pale white skull. You couldn’t live without blood.

Human blood.

It was everywhere. In a quarter of a millisecond, it was everywhere.

Blood.

Gushing out from a white haori-covered shoulder.

Right underneath your glinting fangs.

Oh, it was delicious.

Terrified screams and the clink of metal cried out from all around you.

But all you could focus on was the taste of blood.

Human blood.

A crack.

You were thrown onto your back. A rope pulled tautly around your neck. The butt of a sword staked right onto your chest.

You cheeks were wet. Why were they wet?

Your eyes stung so badly. Why did they sting?

A strained noise escaped from your throat against your will. “Do— it!”

The voice wasn’t your own.

This body wasn’t your own.

Who were you?

"DO IT!" a voice shrieked from inside you. "DO IT! KILL ME!"

Who... who was saying that?

Nine horrified pairs of eyes stared down at you. Who were they again?

"Please!" the voice was hoarse now. "Please, before I hurt you again!"

The handle of the sword pushing into your chest trembled. You turned to meet the wide eyes of the man with the white hair...

Who was he again?

Oh right, he had the most delicious blood...

But there was something else about him...

Your vision grew red as you remembered the pure ecstasy of drinking in his blood, quenching your never-ending thirst for just a moment...

You craved it again.

Thrashing your body about underneath the sword, you lunged forward, clawing at the man's pale neck.

Petrified gasps sounded from all around you.

A searing pain flooded through your entire body.

There, piercing right through your neck, was a nichirin blade.

And directly in front of your eyes was the green sword hilt of the wind pillar.

Wind pillar.

Your eyes widened in realization as all of your memories of your human life came flooding back into your head.

Shinobu teaching you how to concoct various antidotes and poisons. Mitsuri helping you fit your official Demon Slayer Corps uniform. Rengoku helping you up after a difficult sparring session. Giyuu patting your head before sending you off to the Final Selection. Himejima giving you charms of luck before your first mission.

Sanemi, who had supposedly died to the demon who turned you, in front of you now, with his sword buried into your throat.

“N-nemi—” you managed to croak out, your vision growing dark. All you could focus on was the horrified gaze staring back at you.

"Fuck, (Y/N)!" Sanemi barked. "Why the fuck did you go and do that and kill yourself! Shit! You're gonna fucking die now!" You could see tears on his scarred cheeks.

A tiny, sorrowful smile spread across your face. "Don't cry, Sanemi..." All of your energy poured into this one smile, this one smile to say your goodbyes. "Hey— Nemi... remember, you always said... humans... always get the last laugh, huh?"

The last thing you saw before your vision went black was Sanemi’s frightened eyes.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated. feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! thank you <3

#kny #kny headcanons #kny imagines #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer angst #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny angst #sanemi imagines #mitsuri imagines #shinobu imagines #giyuu imagines #rengoku imagines #uzui imagines #angst

[angry-geese]

Risotto Nero x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW towards the end. Pretty vanilla. Lots of fluff. Fem!reader

Notes: Risotto lives au because I am in denial about Vento Aureo's ending. Reader got pregnant around the ending of VA, she escapes the mafia. This takes place six years after the events of VA

sorry for posting so much of this guy but i have rice man brainrot

Lucky was not something you ever considered yourself to be.

Few ever lived long enough to leave. Even fewer managed to stay out of the life long.

Maybe Don Giovanna took pity on you. Or maybe it was just that: luck. 

You were certain of one thing: fleeing Italy was the best thing you'd ever done.

Half of Passione would consider you a traitor. The other half wanted you dead out of spite. Your line of work left a long list of enemies. Those you couldn’t pay off or intimidate, you killed. Tying up loose ends was a gruesome- but necessary- part of the job.

Your family never questioned where you went for all those years. It was an unspoken rule to not mention it. You were considered a dead man the moment you joined. Long ago they stopped expecting their daughter to be alive, waiting for the day Passione would send you back in pieces.

Your daughter was born six months after you arrived home.

Years passed and you slowly realized that hitmen would never come, no strange men ever appeared outside your home, the shadows in the corner of your room were only that: shadows. Your family was safe, or appeared as such.

It felt natural to settle into family life. You took a job working at a local bookstore. Your mother would watch Maria- named after Risotto’s cousin- while you worked. Your father grew old and frail, eventually passing from his age. It was sad but expected, and quickly glossed over by the rest of your life.

She's grown to look quite like him, with her silver hair and skin deepened by the Mediterranean sun. It makes you wonder if she'll grow to be nearly as tall. 

Despite the domesticity of it all, there was a fear that never quite left you. A knife you never slept without, locks you couldn't help but triple check at night, hiding spaces you'd check out of paranoia that someone was there.

You never lied to your daughter about who her father was. Not that you told the entire truth, just the parts a five-year-old could understand: he loves her, but he’s not around anymore.

A knock at the door makes you jump.

Not wanting the sauce for dinner to scald, you leave it. If its anyone important, they’ll come in.

Six years is a long time. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things. But in five- families build, kids go from children to teens leave the bubbles their parents stuck them in. All these life changing events take place.

Risotto can’t deny the anxiety that gnaws at him. Your house vaguely resembles the little Italian villa you two owned. Though that one was long destroyed, burned down when you fled. Seeing the lush garden- planted with all the little flowers you like, with step stones painted rather messily as if done by a child- makes something deep in his chest ache.

One of the last things Risotto expects to open the door is a little girl. A girl that looks a lot like you.

Its as if he’s paralyzed. She’s about five- you would have been pregnant around the time you disappeared. He can’t say he wasn’t warned. Its not that you were ever unfaithful, its just that no matter how many times he’s tried to steel himself for this day, he can’t.

“Papa?”

You were careful when describing him to her. He wasn’t much for photos. At the time neither were you. In Passione you had to be invisible, someone who wouldn’t leave a trace. Discretion was necessary, the only other option was death. Maybe having a child made you sentimental. You wanted more to remember him by than some old clothes and a wedding photo.

Having a child, while not technically against any rules within Passione, was a death sentence. It was one more thing they could hold against you, something they could hurt you with. Risotto’s line of work meant limiting that at all costs if you wanted to live to see the end of the year.

But he’s no longer one of the cogs in Passione’s machine. He’s just a man, and he can love you- the two of you- as such.

He gathers her up in his arms, holding her close. She smells like a perfume you used to wear, he notes. The thought of you being so close makes his heart race.

When you hear the door open, but no one enter, your mind goes to the worst. You rush to the door, kitchen knife in hand. But it’s no hitman sent to tie off a loose end. It’s something that hurts much worse.

Neither of you know how to respond. He’s relatively unchanged, though there’s a noticeable limp when he walks, and his shoulder that now aches when it rains. You’ve grown- gotten used to living as a civilian- but you have not turned soft. He notices a few grays, your scars have faded, smile lines dot at the corners of your mouth. Strong, sturdy, beautiful. All the things his nonna used to call him. It was still you.

"Stay for dinner, please." You cling to his shirt like he’ll disappear again.

He nods, unable to refuse.

Somehow you convince him to stay for a drink. Then another. Somehow you convince him to spend the night. Because after all these years he finds it difficult to leave and now he doesn't want the moment to end.

Risotto grabs hungrily at the fleshy parts of your hips. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, giving him silent permission to continue. He tugs at the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips enough for him to slide them off. Risotto hums approvingly as he realizes you have nothing on underneath. He cages you in his arms, sliding one under your shirt to palm at your breast, working your nipples into stiff peaks. To hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks, you bury your face in his shirt. He sucks at the pulse point in your neck, making you gasp particularly loudly.

He slides a finger up your slit, his large hand coming down to rest on your thigh. Your core throbs at the thought of what he plans on doing to you. You’re not wet- not just yet- but you feel the slick beginning to collect. 

“Stop teasing!” You bury your face further into the crook of his neck.

“I’m just taking my time, amore.”

He brings his other hand down to toy at your clit. To stifle a moan, you nip at his shoulder. Just how he remembered. You jolt as he brushes his thumb across the bundle of nerves, tracing softly along your thigh.

"More, please." You palm at his growing bulge.

"Not yet."

It's hardly enough, but he’d drag this out all night if you’d let him. His other hand traces down your stomach, resting on your thigh. You widen your legs a little further, giving him room to settle between them. He marks your neck- then your stomach- with little nips and bites. After a particularly loud whine, he moves up to nip at your ear, making your entire body shudder.

You're embarrassed, red in the face and needy, pupils blown wide and lips bitten red. His teeth graze across your thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. You card your hands through his hair, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him. He pushes your legs just a bit further apart.

He sucks at your clit, lapping like a housecat. You grind against him, desperate for more friction. You've long stopped caring about the noise you’re making. He licks like a man starved. Aside from your own whimpers and pleading, you hear the huffs of a man who is very content with what he's doing. He's knuckle deep, the lower half of his face shiny with your slick, fingers scissoring inside of you. After a moment he adds a third, rubbing against your g-spot. The stretch stings, but isn't necessarily painful. 

He’s had to stretch you out plenty of times. The man is huge- that applies to more than just his stature. As he begins pumping those fingers in you, you dig your nails into his scalp. The coil in your stomach tightens far sooner than you expected. He grunts when your thighs close around his head, back arched off the bed. 

The coil in your stomach snaps. He lingers for just a moment after, until the overstimulation becomes too much and you push him away. He makes a show of licking his fingers, pulling them from his mouth with a pop.

He settles in next to you, your hips pulled flush to his. You feel something hard press into your thigh.

He’s got six years of lost time to make up, after all, he’s only just getting started.

#risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #jjba x reader #risotto nero #vento aureo #jojo part 5 #jjba #not sfw #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure #la squadra

[physicalturian]

[G] My Prince - Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader

[Spoilers for : Shadow and Bone; Siege and Storm; Run and Rising] [No spoilers for : King of Scars ; Rule of Wolves; Six of Crows; Crooked Kingdom]

[She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 9569 Archive of our own

Tags : Flirting / War / Fluff / PTSD / Cuteness / Awkwardness / Soft / Love confession

Request stated : Hi ! Could you do a Nikolai Lantsov x reader request ? Where they are in love and have been together since she joined his crew after running away from the Little Palace but then everything happens and they break up because he has to marry Alina and then after he becomes human again and the Darkling is killed they get back together.

- - -

Everything happened so fast, the attack on the Little Palace by The Darkling, the explosions, the blinding light from the roof, all my fallen friends on the ground bathing in their own blood. Names were screamed in despair; we all retaliated the best we could, but we were outnumbered by far. I did not know what were those things that came flying straight for me, but I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by fear. I tried to get out of the way, no matter how many times I told myself to dodge, I couldn’t. And yet, I saw the demon-like bird’s claws pass right next to me, only grazing my cheek as I was thrown out of its way.

“Now, I understand those creatures are fascinating, but they’re not exactly the friendliest,” I heard next to me, a hand gripping my arm tightly. I couldn’t move, but felt a gloved hand turned my face and look at me, “You!” “Your knight in shining armor, the honor was all mine,” The blond said with a smirk, but there was still urgency behind it.

 Looking around quickly, he told me to hide behind one of the trees and came back with a few other Grisha before hurrying us back to what looked like a flying ship. I wanted to stare at it a moment before the man lifted me off the ground, “I know it’s impressive, they all say that, but now’s not the time to look,” He said in a light, playful even, yet serious tone as he helped me on deck, he once more told me to stay, maybe even sit then left.

 This was my first encounter with Nikolai Lantsov, the bastard son, the witty only living heir to the throne of Ravka.

 I did not remember much of that night until I got on the ship, I know I was brought of change of clothes, my red kefta was a tone deeper, wetter than it used to be. When I placed my hand on the fabric, and looked at my palm, blood stared right at me. I did not know what to say, and only stared at it until a hand placed a wet washcloth on mine. “Unless the Little Palace hid blood-sucking people in their basement, which I wouldn’t be surprised of, and you’re hungry- then it’d be better to clean yourself up, dear.”

 “I’m not a vampire.” I uttered before grabbing the cloth from his hand and slowly getting the blood off myself, taking off the kefta, I still had clothes underneath, but I did feel the frilly temperature of the night. I throw a glance at the prince and found him looking anywhere but at me, “Why aren’t you looking?”

 He huffed, a smug smile adorning his features, “Is that a request? If so, I’ll gladly-“ “No, not a request. Just curious.” I replied with a huff. I couldn’t help the tired smile on my lips as I dipped the cloth back in the water to finish removing the blood before putting on the clean clothes I was offered. “I might be known as the bastard son, but I still have the education of a prince,” He paused. “But don’t worry, I’ll gladly look when you’ll ask for it-“

 “Gross, no thank you,” I glanced at him and nodded, “But thank you for the clothes. I should probably… do something-” Then I remembered, my eyes widened when the penny dropped, I quickly scrambled to my senses and got up, giving the best curtsy I could muster in this state, “Your highness, your highness, pardon my being improper I-“ He shook his head and stood up, laughing charmingly but also what seemed to be exhausted. “Don’t, right now call me Nikolai, some call me Too-Clever fox,” A smile made its way on his lips, “But you can also call me handsome, pretty face,”

 Laughing, I interrupted him, “I think Nikolai is a fine name, I’ll be sure not to remind you of your title, your high- Nikolai.” He looked at me for a moment, his mouth widening into a grin as he asked me my name. When I told him, he shook his head and held my hand gently, “I think ‘gorgeous’ suits you better,” he then pressed a kiss on my knuckles. I pulled my hand away, rolling my eyes.

 “Call me as you please, I do not really care,” When he was about to reply, Zoya called him, if not pressed him, to come, saying they had to talk. I was ready to leave, but he pulled my hand once again, “Ah, duty does not wait, but my heart does, hopefully you will?” I scoffed and swatted his hand away, “I’ll be going, no one makes Zoya Nazyalensky wait, you should hurry if you do not wish to be thrown overboard.” I said playfully before leaving.

 This was the extent of my first encounter with Nikolai Lantsov.

 We encountered one another a lot more, but those happened at night. I kept having dreams of the attack on the Little Palace. I would wake up in the middle of the night, breathless, sweating, and unable to go back to sleep. Not wanting to wake the people around me, I’d go back on deck, there would be squallers and inferni, making the ship work, while the prince would be sitting with plans in front of him. A thoughtful expression on his face. I blamed my tired state for the first time the thought crossed my mind, but under the moonlight, his expression determined and focused… He was almost handsome.

 I must have stared too long that time, he lifted his head from the plans and looked at me curiously before smiling and beckoning me to come closer. I turned around to leave but he called my name, I couldn’t ignore it, or perhaps was it because he was royalty and I felt like I couldn’t ignore him. So, I joined him, sat by his side and did not say anything. He was the one to start the conversation, “The dreams are the worst, but you get used to it, for what it’s worth. I have them every night, from the front.”

 “Is that why you are awake, my prince?” I did not realize I had used his title; I was overcome with exhaustion and couldn’t think straight. I heard him chuckled, “War does not wait, gorgeous. We need a plan of attack,” I looked at him a moment, then at his plans. “And where do you think we’ll find the resources to build this? Ravka is overcome with debts,”

 This is when he started ranting, with eagerness, about what he had planned. What was going to happen, the steps to follow, I listened intently, finding it almost endearing how passionate he was about it but forgot that thought as I fell back asleep.

 I did apologize when I woke, about falling asleep, telling him it wasn’t boring, but that I was exhausted. He tutted me and added, “Nonsense, I enjoyed watching you sleep, did you know you snor-“ “I do not snore. And it’s definitely creepy to watch someone sleep, my prince.”  He only laughed in response. Something in my stomach churned, I shouldn’t be friendly with him, but it felt easy to be as such with him.

 He had this easiness about him, this charm that one couldn’t help but let themselves be drawn to. It was a useful skill if he were to become King of Ravka, a skill that he had honed throughout years of… What had the young prince been doing these past few years? I never saw him inside the palace, as if he wasn’t even there. But he hadn’t been doing nothing, he seemed full of resources.

 While I pondered some more, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up, Zoya gestured for me to get up and to look. As I did, I saw a gorgeous looking building made of glass, “What is that place? Did you know it existed?” I asked her in awe, she only shook her head before adding that the prince was full of surprises and for now it was useful, but she was keeping an eye on him.

 “I do like to keep a few tricks up my sleeve, it comes in handy when I want to see that look of surprise on the face of pretty women,” Two sighs followed his words, one from Zoya and another from me before we moved away from him and made our way to slightly unsteady lift that led us deeper inside what Nikolai introduced to us as the Spinning Wheel. I did not feel safe underground, and yet, when our feet met the ground, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.

 This place was foreign to me, I was used to the safety of the Little Palace’s walls, knowing all that was happening, when it’d happen. When the attack had happened, that routine had been disrupted and I knew it was never coming back. It was the beginning of something big, something I did not want to get used to. And yet, right now, between these gorgeous walls, with people running around, crates in hands, sweat dripping from their foreheads as if they had been working non-stop, and with few peoples I knew… I felt safer. Not entirely safe, but a step closer to feeling such.

 “You do like to daydream, I can’t blame you, I am quite the sight,” Said the blond prince as he joined my side, looking where I was looking. I felt his shoulder hit mine and shuffled away, still wanting to put some distance between a man I knew I should fear for he had power where I had not. “I got lost in thoughts. I’m still trying to take in what this all means,” I said softly, meeting the blonde’s joyous gaze, when he met mine, he seemed to be shaken only for a moment before fondness replaced the excitement.

 “It’s something big, bigger than all of us,” he started, making me sigh in loss of hope, as I mumbled, “What are we even doing if it’s impossible to win?” It made the prince laugh as he grinned at me. I did not like how lightly he was taking the situation and was about to give him a piece of my mind when he said, “When people say impossible, they mean improbable,” “We lost the only possible person who could take the Darkling, I don’t see Alina anywhere around,” I stated, my arms open wide as I turned around to emphasize her missing.

 “Being optimistic is sometimes very close to being delusional, my prince, I do not buy that bullshit attitude of yours-“ “Hope is what keeps us alive. Soldiers and Grisha alike, we’re all tired, exhausted even and even though you do not appreciate that bullshit attitude of mine, it is what we all need.” He said in a very political way, with that charming smile, “And even without the sun summoner, I’m pretty sure I can outwit that old geezer,” He said in full confidence, almost puffing his chest as he said so.

 “What we need is to be better prepared, they did not teach us how to fight at the Little Palace,” I paused and observed the young prince a moment, “When you become King, you should change that, because this is only the beginning, my prince,” Before I could leave to join Zoya that I could see at one of door, not only did she disappear out of sight, but I felt the King grab my wrist. Scowling, I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, “Grisha will be training with soldiers, you will not go unprepared,”

 His tone was serious, then a smug smile drew itself on his lips as he let go of my wrist, “But what did I tell you, gorgeous? Call me Nikolai, this situation does not call for formalities,” He was changing topic, perhaps he did not want to talk about such matters with me, or perhaps he wanted a change of air. I played along and gestured for him to walk with me, “Well, Nikolai, if you could show me to the Grisha quarters-“ “Oh it’s now mixed rooms, hope you do not mind,” He threw me a playful grin, “If you do, I shall let you know that I am the owner of a single room. Now, it’s close to the King and Queen’s room, but I’ll be sure to ask the fabrikators to help with the acoustic, the King does snore very loudly,”

 I rolled my eyes, hopefully hiding that I thought he meant something else with the acoustic. We didn’t talk more afterwards, for I did not ask him any other question and he seemed to understand I was not in the mood to talk. The situation we were in stressed me out and talking about it in details did not help. When he led me to my shared room, he slipped away to meet up with Zoya along other Grisha and soldiers.

 I never considered taking him up on his offer of the single room.

 While everyone trained during the day, and it was tiresome, so tiresome that I would pass out the moment my head would hit the pillow, I would still wake up during the night. My body almost shaking in fear. I could still see those screeching creatures coming for me, the dread I felt that night, bodies surrounding me. Blue, red or purple, it did not matter, every kefta had ended up tainted in blood. We were taught to use our power, promised safety but never taught to deal with such things.

 Running a hand on my face, I got out of bed without a sound and made my way out once more. If every night was going to end up like this, I might as well find a quiet spot to sleep and give my room to someone who could use it, I thought as I tightened my kefta around my form. I walked up the stairs to, hopefully, find peace and calm down by staring at the stars. I let out a sigh of relief when I found nobody there and sat against the wall to look up the stars.

 I do not know how long as stayed there, trying to steer my thoughts away from the depressing feelings I was feeling, and it was hard, I could barely manage it. When I remembered a good memory, I was reminded that the friend I shared it with was laying on the ground, dead. I tried not to cry, I promise, but failed. My peace was interrupted by someone clearing their throat nearby. I turned around and instinctively tightened my fist, slowing their heart before I could see who it was.

 I let go just as fast when I saw the blond prince in front of me, he breathed out heavily, “Usually, I’m the one who has the ladies say ‘my heart stopped’ but dare I say, you left me breathless,” he scoffed humorously. I rushed to his side, wiping my tears away, apologizing as I patted his chest, his arms, anything, I did not know what to do. “I’m fine, don’t you worry gorgeous. It takes a lot more than that to take me down, I’m quite resilient, something the King never quite liked.” I squinted my eyes, not knowing what it meant before stepping back.

 “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t the brain of the war be resting?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest. It made Nikolai chuckle, “You flatter me, I am indeed smart and do require sleep,” He paused. “I should also let you know, I have people on watch who warn me of the whereabouts of everyone here. You can imagine my surprise to hear you sneaked out at this hour, gorgeous.”

 Sighing, I turned around and sat back where I was, “I feel like you’re not going to leave until I tell you,” I pondered out loud, nodding, Nikolai joined me saying I was very right then added, “But I’m fairly confident I can guess what’s bothering that pretty mind of yours,” I quirked a brow at the blond, wordlessly telling him to go ahead. “The nightmares are not going to leave just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “I know… I know… I’m just trying to clear my thoughts, I can’t fall back asleep when I wake up from that,”

 “You did not seem to have any trouble on deck,” He pondered out loud, his eyes observing all my moves. I looked straight ahead, not wanting to let him read me. I shrugged, brought my knees to my chest and rested my arms on it to lay my head on them. “I guess my focus was on you and not my thoughts, maybe that’s why… it doesn’t matter though,” Turning my head, I looked him up and down, and changed topic, “Sorry again for the,” I moved my hands vaguely, talking about moments ago when I slowed his heart, “Thing, you startled me,”

 He laughed and shoved his hand in the pocket of his coat, pulling out a notebook and a pen, “It’s all in the past, we can go back to you loving the sound of my voice so much you fall asleep to it,” “I did not say that,” Opening his notebook, he started doodling as he spoke, “No need to, I reckon it’ll be demonstrated when you’ll fall asleep once more as I start explaining this great idea I had with David earlier this afternoon, it’s underwater boats and…” If someone asked me, I’d say I was bothered by the prince’s presence.

 But no one asked. It was just me and my thoughts, and his presence was secretly welcomed. He was funny to be around, light-hearted. I know behind all of this, was a man riddled with responsibilities, problems and perhaps as much stress as I was. But maybe we both needed this, someone else to simply hang out with. Not talk about the civil war, simply enjoy one another’s presence. I do not know what I brought him, if anything I thought he’d want to leave.

 But he stayed. We met up like this almost every night, on this very spot.

 It became close to a habit, when I’d wake up during the night and sneak out of my room, I’d see the blond leaning against the door frame, a smile on his lips. He’d wave at me before following my steps. Sometimes he’d remark how I was earlier or late, I’d just laugh it off and gesture for him to just follow. One night he suggested we’d perhaps take blankets, adding that as much as he enjoyed those little escapades of ours, he would rather avoid losing his toes. Since that night, there was a crate outside with blankets.

 Tonight, I’d taken upon myself to bring a book too. I felt bad, falling asleep when Nikolai would enthusiastically rant, it did not stop him from talking though. He would often mumble to himself or ask me questions I couldn’t answer but I’d try nonetheless, making him think before his face would light up as if he had the greatest idea. He would resume his scribbling.

 Tonight, however, he went silent, when I looked his way, I saw he was reading over my shoulder, I quickly placed my hand on the pages and closed the book. He whined, going for the book, “Come on, it was getting to the best part,” When I felt his cold hand touch mine, I simply let him take the book and shrugged, my face warming up, I was not going to play tug war to keep my book. His face was startled for a moment, if not hurt.

 I felt bad. I did not mean it as anything bad, I simply got caught off guard. And I also knew the feelings that had started developing within me and knew I could not act on it nor let myself believe anything would happen. He was royalty, he was a war leader… he was funny, and brought warmth to my cold, cold, heart.

 So, I chuckled nervously, “Your hands are cold, my prince-“ “Nikolai, it’s Nikolai. I’d think you’d remember it by now considering the many nights we’ve spent together, most women would remember it by the end of the first night,” He said charmingly, as he opened the book on the right page on my lap and leaned back against the wall to face his notes.

 “Am I most women? I find myself to be quite different from others, the nightmares add to the charm do they not? I even thought we had something special,” I said in a jokingly dramatic manner as I turned a page and waited anxiously for his reply, inside I regretted saying anything. Why did I want him to tell me we had something? I was being delusional, this was but companionship, we both had trouble sleeping and found one another’s company enjoyable, that was all. Pure, platonic companionship.

 I heard him chuckle and dared look his way, I felt my face warm up when I saw him looking at me with a huge smile as he was leaning on his fist, his elbow resting on his knee. He looked slightly stupid in this position, but also cute. “I think I found the pattern; all things have a pattern. It’s only a matter of finding it to understand,” I quirked a brow at his words and closed the book on my lap, making sure to put the bookmark. “For example, I like my women strong and hard to get,” I felt my heart skip a beat but only rolled my eyes in response.

 “How charming, where are you getting at, my prince- Nikolai,” He made a victory sound, and leaned forward, pointing at me with his index as his grin widened. “This, exactly this, oh this is good,” He said excitedly. I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips. I was waiting for him to develop, “Tell me if I’m wrong, gorgeous, but I think you’ve fallen for my charms.”

I raised my brows in surprise and hid my embarrassment by simply questioning, “That’s quite the reach, I do wonder how you came to the conclusion,”

 That cocky smile never left his lips, he grabbed my book and set it down on the ground, then resting his hand next to it as he leaned in. I leaned back. “I’ll wait longer, I need to test that theory first, I’ll keep you up to date gorgeous,” He winked, brought my knuckle to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss on it before returning to his thinking.

 This time he talked loud enough for it to be thought a conversation, which ruined my reading plans. I rested my head on my knees and looked at him as he talked. It was a close call, maybe I should be more careful with what I do if he knew I liked him. I was not going to abandon our late-night talks, but maybe I should be more aware of what I do. I did not know what was my tell, but I was going to make sure to not let it slide anymore.

 I fell asleep soon after. I think I felt something cold touch my hand before passing out, but it was probably the ground.

 We never stopped the late-night conversations. Only, I felt like the young prince was more insistent with his flirtatious ways, and I couldn’t say I was immune to his charms. He would say the most ridiculous things, and yet I would laugh and feel weird in my stomach, like,

 “Focused and determined, if I did not know it was a romantic story, I’d think you were doing hard maths. One would wish you’d look at them as intensely as you stared at those pages, gorgeous.” He once said, I huffed a laugh, suddenly feeling self-conscious with his intense gaze, “Perhaps my prince wishes I’d look at him that way?” I said half-jokingly. “Oh, you already do, I can feel your stare when I’m talking about my inventions, it’s endearing to see you so enthralled when I talk,” He said with a smug smile.

 I looked away, focusing my gaze on the sky, “I’m not enthralled, I’m confused, go back to your notes,” I mumbled, opening my book again.

 Another time, we were talking heatedly about a topic we both had in common that I found the most interesting. At some point during the conversation, he would only pitch in from time to time, it took me some time to notice that I had been rambling. When I stopped and told him to go on, he shook his head, “Nonsense, I find there’s a certain glow to your pretty person as you talk about things you hold close to you heart. One’s mind tends to wonder if an expression as beautiful as yours could be brought at the mention of one’s name…” He trailed off with a slight smirk.

 “Nonsense” I imitated his tone playfully, “One could maybe talk as themselves if one feels there is something they’d like to share, wouldn’t you think my prince?” I asked rhetorically, my face was warming up. I hoped I read it right, I hoped he wasn’t just flirting for fun and hoped he felt the same way, but I was not going to take the first step. Would it not be considered arrogant of someone like me to think I had a chance with a prince?

 His laugh reached my ears, then an excited huff as he moved away from the wall and scooted closer to me, sitting perpendicular of me. “Are you curious of my theory, gorgeous?”

 I was, if he was asking, it meant I hadn’t been able to hide it as good as I thought I had been, “Not in the slightest, no,” I replied off-handedly. He turned me around, his hands gripping my shoulders as I faced him, “But you are, I can see it! You are curious, and a bad liar, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” He winked as he drew a cross over his heart. “See, this theory of mine,” He paused and pulled out his notebook, “Which has been proven, right here,” He showed me his notes, but I could barely read it.

 I knew he wrote well, but when it was more of a brainstorming, or rushed notes, he wrote like a pirate. I nodded for him to continue. “You like me, we’ve been over that-“ “I don’t think we have, you seem very confident though,”

He tutted me and continued, “You only call me ‘my prince’ when you’re flustered or embarrassed, as if you’re trying to distance yourself, am I wrong?” He asked with a breathtaking smile, he was overjoyed by this. As if he had solved the most difficult problem of his life, which I hardly think it was.

 “I don’t-“ “Did you notice, in casual conversations, you call me Nikolai, as you should. But the moment I flirt with you,” He changed his tone when he continued and imitated a sort of shyness, “my prince,” he said with a heartful laugh.

 I know he meant it as a joke, but I took it at heart and scoffed. I threw him a cautious glance, taking in how handsome he looked under the moonlight. How his hair was still a bit messy from waking up in the middle of the night, I never knew if he couldn’t sleep either or if he woke up for me, but I believe the former was more probable.

 There was moment of silence, which was rare with Nikolai Lantsov. As if he could not bear the silence, but he never said so, instead he did the conversation all by himself. He always knew what to say, no matter who he was talking to, maybe that’s what was going on here.

 Or perhaps he wanted me to tell him I liked him… “One tends to distance themselves when they know that liking a prince only ends up well in fairytales,” I mumbled, shrugging. I had to try hard to calm myself, even considering using my power to calm my fast-beating heart.

 “Are you saying liking me is only possible in a fairytale?” I took the bait, I had already started talking when I looked at him in panic and saw the smirk on his face, “No, I’m saying it’s not as simple as one would think to … get together with royalty,” Chuckling, he grabbed my hands in his and pulled me closer, our knees touching.

 “Let’s talk properly, shall we? I want you, and I am fairly certain you want me too-“ Nikolai started, I had to interrupt, “Pardon?” I uttered in shock; my eyes as wide as a diner plate. An unusual nervous sound left his lips, as the blond quirked a brow, “It’s hard to believe I read the room wrong, from what I gathered you do not look at anyone else the way you look at me. Though it is only fitting that I’d receive all the attention.”

 “I thought you were fake flirting Nikolai, I thought I was being delusional,” I let go of his hands and let myself fall back on the ground delicately, now staring at the starry sky, a chuckle of disbelief escaping my lips. I heard him shuffle closer as he laid down next to me. Heat was emanating from his body, making me want to scoot closer and hold him but I stood there.

 “I’ll admit I am of flirtatious nature, but you’re the only one who enjoys my talking, that is something I am grateful for,” He started, “You are also very smart, and beautiful. I wouldn’t say as beautiful as me, I am quite the charming lad,” we both chuckled, as I nudged his hand playfully. He stopped me by grabbing it and intertwining our fingers, my breath hitched, and I turned my head to face him, slowly. Nikolai was already staring at me with a lovely smile.

 I loved the idea of being with him, but I knew it wasn’t possible, “It would have been nice… to be with you that is…” I said with a sad smile, “But I don’t think the King and Queen would appreciate it, for Ravka’s sake-“ “There, already thinking like a true Queen,” He said half-jokingly, I don’t know what he was doing. He was supposed to tell me I was right, it wouldn’t work, he was supposed to cut everything off. Instead, he was entertaining the thought.

 “Dear, let’s not think of what’s to come and enjoy our time while we can, shall we?” “You say that as if we were going to die, that’s not the optimistic Prince I know.” I said humorously, not enjoying the dark turn the conversation was taking.

 “You are very right, gorgeous. You are correct that the King and Queen won’t like it, not one bit. They’re quite set on marrying me off to some wealthy princess, but I do love a challenge, let’s first win this war. Anything can happen, and until then, I would gladly have you by my side.” There was some uncertainty in his tone when he continued, almost timid. Uncharacteristic of him, but I found myself relax slightly knowing he was not always brash and charming. As if we had a common ground here in both being new to this. “If you desire to not go forth with this, I’ll respect your wish, gorgeous.”

 “I want you too Nikolai,” I heard a short sigh of relief, “And my wish is for you to kiss me, can you respect that-“ I was interrupted by a breathless laugh as two hands cradled my face gently and pulled me closer, his lips pressed against mine, I could feel the smile on his lips and could only oblige in returning it. “Good, do you want to keep this secret or-“ “I think keeping it between our closest friends would be better, not that I’m ashamed. I’d flaunt you in a heartbeat, not that people would care, but…” “-But let’s not have the court talking just yet, I’m sure women will be jealous. Who wouldn’t be with such a handsome man by your side, after all? I’m quite the catch,” He paused.

 “And maybe let’s avoid the wrath of the King and Queen’s for now,”

 “Well… I never went fishing, but I’d say you’re an OK fish,” I told him teasingly, jumping back on his saying of being a good catch. He huffed in faux-shock, “An ok fish? I’ll have you known I am more of a very handsome fox, have you seen my lush hair?”

 This was the night I find out Nikolai felt the same way I did about him. From that day, I did start considering his offer of the single room but was afraid of people finding out.

 Meeting in his bedroom would be more comfortable, in a way we wouldn’t be sitting on the floor and freezing ourselves to death. But I love the blanket of the wide-open night, the darkness of it, the secrecy it brought us, something I doubt a room next to the King and Queen’s room could bring.

 We’d play the game well. The one where we weren’t supposed to be close, it was hard to keep it up with Nikolai’s subtle flirts when we’d cross paths. During the day he’d be running around, getting things done, with other people around him and would still dare to look my way while I’d be training, and wink at me. When I’d receive a hit from losing focus and look back at him frustrated, he’d grin and mouth “careful”.

 The soldier I was training with was starting to catch on, I thought she had found out when she chuckled. “Has the little Grisha taken a liking to the young prince?” I scoffed in response, playing it off and retaliating her previous attack. “I’d be a fool if I did, let’s resume,” I was indeed a fool and there was no helping it. I was falling more and more in love with the witty prince the more I spent time with him.

 He grew bolder in his moves, making me look at him exasperated the day he asked the person I was training with, if he could practice a bit. Thinking he meant for me to leave, I stepped aside but he laughed, “You can go Zeke, I’m a bit rusty but I want to see how our little Grisha is fending for herself,”

 I looked him dead in the eyes, without showing my true feelings. I threw a glance at Zeke, hoping they wouldn’t try to read the room, instead they left a bit confused.

 We stepped closer to one another, reading our weapon, “Nikolai, what are you doing,” he grinned, oh so charmingly, “Making sure my training programs is working, of course!” He exclaimed as we started fencing. I had a hard time getting a hit on him, I tried to argue that he had been doing this since he was a child, probably. Adding to that his great side life as privateer, he must have been in many fights, but then I remember he would mostly fight with pistols.

 When he was about to hit me another time, I used my power to make him feel dizzy. I fell back, avoiding his sword, he only lost a bit of his balance and stood standing right there. “I believe that’s cheating gorgeous,” He whispered, extending his hand to me to help me up. I didn’t take it and stood up on my own, leaning in and gritting through my teeth, “I can’t concentrate when you’re looking at me like that,” His grin only widened at that, “With burning passion and awe? You truly are stunning when you’re fighting, dear,”

 I gave him a deadly glare once again, unable to hide my blush, “Nikolai, no!”

“Nikolai, yes, I believe I won. See you tonight?” He looked around mischievously before placing a delicate kiss on my cheek and slipping away without an ounce of regret in his strut. I stood there in shock until Zeke returned and we resumed our training. No one had seen a thing.

 Later, the return of the Sun Summoner happened. The worry I felt upon being discovered with the prince grew in a different direction. Upon her return, a lot went down, one being the making of Nikolai a King. His father had abdicated, both him and the Queen were to stay away from Ravka. Talks about an alliance between him and Sankta Alina was going around, meaning, a marriage. I ignored it the best I could.

 One time we almost got caught when I was told the King had asked for a meeting with me, I held back a groan at how this lacked discretion. I made my way to the room dedicated for the war meetings with the most important people, and saw Nikolai looking at the map on the table in the middle of the room. He signaled for the person who accompanied me to leave, that this was important and needed all his focus. They nodded and closed the door behind. His diplomatic attitude fell to the ground like a cape being removed off his beautiful person.

 “Your majesty, you’re growing careless,” I was afraid someone was listening on the other side of the door and kept some distance between us, something he did not seem to be in the mood for. Instead, he grabbed both my hands and pulled me deeper into the room, whispering, “I wanted to see you and as your King you cannot refuse me,” He said playfully, “Nikolai, do you not care what people might think of this?” I asked, exhausted.

 “The people think there is something between Zoya and I,” I felt my heart clench, sighing heavily as I rested my chin on his chest, looking at him from a weird angle. “Which… there is not, right?” I felt his arms tighten around my waist, it felt comforting to be in his embrace like this, I felt untouchable. He looked at me with a big smile, “Is my darling jealous?” I rolled my eyes and looked off to the side. “I love you Nikolai, Saints do I love you…” I paused. “But there is talk about getting married to the Sun Summoner, the people need a Queen they can look up to, and I think you should make that alliance…”

 He sighed and played with my hair as he spoke, “I’ll only accept one Queen by my side, I do not wish to marry Alina,”

“What you want is different from what Ravka needs, Nikolai. You and I both know that. We both knew from the moment we started this that, things will change, and I hardly think I would be fit for the throne. A Saint is what the country needs-“ “Funds is what Ravka needs, I am already considered a bastard, I have been called many names at the court but I meet their insults with laughter, I can add fool to the many titles I have been given it means I can marry the one I truly love,”

 I took a deep breath as I cradled his face in my hands, “Funds is what the country will need once we won… But hope is what keeps us alive, is it not? The people need hope right now, hope from a Saint ruling over them, I will stay by your side always, but you need this alliance with the Sun Summoner Nikolai,” We were interrupted by heavy knocks on the door before Zoya came rushing in, a scowl on her face. I had had time to step away from Nikolai and slump quickly on one of the seats to make it look like it was just a conversation.

 His mask came back the moment the door open, we did not talk more about it.

 I later heard he did propose with a big ring to Alina, Zoya informed me. But she had turned him down. I had to tell him to try harder, giving him tips of what I think could make her swoon. But deep down, I felt offended for his sake, why would she refuse him? He was handsome, smart, kind, gentle, funny- I stopped my thoughts for a moment, realizing how much I loved him and how much my heart ached for him. This situation was affecting me more than I thought it would, I knew he did not love her, and I also knew it from the start that it’d come down to that, but it still hurt.

 That same day, in the evening, I left my room late but did not find him following me. There was a pinch in my heart as I climbed up to reach the outside. When I arrived there, I saw Nikolai sitting on the railing with Alina a bit further away from him. My heart shattered but I kept my composure, Alina stepped away from the railing and met my eyes with surprise. I was the first one to speak, “My apologies, your majesty, Sankta Alina, I will leave you be,” with a curtesy I moved to leave but heard Nikolai call my name.

 Turning around, I held his gaze. I clenched my jaw, feeling jealousy build inside me. It was unlike me, but I couldn’t help it. I bowed once more, “Does your majesty require-“ “Gorgeous, I told you to call me Nikolai,” Many thoughts crossed my mind, but mostly, what is he doing? I heard him a lot closer this time, his hand reached for my cheek as he lifted my chin. I uttered his name in a warning tone, barely above a breath. “Oh, don’t worry, he told me about both of you. I wouldn’t have guessed; I mean sure I could see you clearly had a crush on the Too-Clever fox here.”

 “Alina, who wouldn’t? No one can resist my charms, I make women swoon with just a wink,” “And make them leave the moment you open your mouth, a shame you cannot for the life of you shut up Nikolai,” She replied playfully, making him fake gasp.

 I watched the interaction in shock, stepping back from the King, still not sure I could display anything else but curtesy to the King of Ravka and his little Saint. Daring to speak, I looked at the Sun Summoner, “I like listening to him talk, it’s interesting, don’t you think Sankta Alina?” She stared at me, before looking at Nikolai then back at me, “You managed to him blush!” “I do not blush; the air is frisky here. Let’s go back inside,” He ushered us both towards the door, only to have Alina stop us. “I’ll go back inside, but you,” She pointed at me, “Call me Alina, I am no Saint, and you,” she pointed at Nikolai, then at the ring on her finger, “I’ll only keep it until we win, but we are not getting married,” Then she left.

 Nikolai’s hand reached for mine and pulled me to our usual spot, pulling out a blanket and wrapping us in it quickly before talking, “As you can see, it’s unfortunate but the Saint does not wish to marry me, there is nothing I can do to force her,” He said a bit too happily. His hands both held mine, warming them up. The night was warmer the previous one, but it was still too chilly for any of us to stay outside without the proper blankets. “If the court does not call you a fool, I will. You have to be more persuasive with her, I know full well you could persuade a rock to move with just your charms,” I said with a light tone, but I was being serious.

 He brought my hands to his shoulders before helping me sit on his lap, it felt strange to be this close, but I did not say anything. “Would my charms work on you if I asked you to marry me?” I huffed a laugh; He was joking at the worst moments. “Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Grand Duke of Udova, King of Ravka, the man who proposed to two women in one night. You’re-“ I scoffed, pausing as I rested my forehead against his, a small smile on my lips, “Don’t joke like that, I know if you ask again I’ll say yes, and it’s not… not until we won,”

 “Then how about a promise? I want you, no, need you by my side, I’ll wait until we won,” He paused, smirking. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and observed a moment, “Since the big ring is in Alina’s possession, no one will notice if…” He dug inside the pocket of his coat and turned my head just slightly; His hand grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke so close to me that I felt his breath hit my skin. “Sturmhond is a very fashionable man, I’m sure you’d like him, very charming too,” I made a confused face, moments after, he let go and gestured for me to touch.

 I felt a metallic thing on the shell of my ear, “Is that an ear cuff?” “Absolutely, I might be very eager to show you off, but I am not an idiot, and if any of us wore a ring, it’d be a bit obvious. Don’t you think?” He did not wait for an answer, “We’ll both know what it means. I will definitely buy you a gorgeous ring once this is over, but let’s settle for this little trinket for now-“ I cut him off by kissing him deeply, earning a surprised sound from him before he returned the kiss.

 I looked at him with a huge grin, he seemed embarrassed but recovered quickly, “I’ll take that as a yes,” “You are very thoughtful, thank you. I like it, I don’t have anything for you, not that you could wear anything without everyone being suspicious.” I chuckled.

“Oh my heart, I have plenty. Know that you are in my thoughts always,” “I think that’s my cue to leave, I have had my quota of…” I gestured at him playfully. The blond man pulled me closer, “Affection? Well, I have not, and as your King, I demand you stay until I am fully satiated.” And I did. We stayed there all night, until we fell asleep. It was good.

 This happiness did not last long. Some way, The Darkling found the Spinning Wheel. Everything went south from there, people dying, running around. I saw the woman who had taught me to control my power, jump into the void, I saw my lover getting snatched from in front of me, his screams reaching my ears. I called out for him but tried to hide my sadness, my heartbreak, behind fear. I failed. I yelled his name in despair, he fell back on the ground but was in searing pain. I approached him but saw his form change, it had taken the shape of something close to a volcra. “Nikolai!” I reached out for him, he stopped midair.

 His hand reached out for mine, for a single moment. I was not paying attention to what The Darkling was saying but was solely focused on the King that had transformed into a demon. I tried to pull him towards me, his claws dug inside my arm, but I didn’t let go. He pulled back, leaving red marks on my arms as I fell to my knees.

 This was what this man left behind, this bastard. The man I believed a mentor. He took everything for himself, he did not care. He claimed it was for the greater good but was a selfish- “Piece of shit!” I continued insulting him, but he only laughed, mocking me, saying I looked a poor little puppy in love.

 Soon enough, he disappeared. I do not know what happened next, I was out of it.

 I was later asked to join the Saint’s team in the search for amplifiers that I believed were legends, myths. Until it was not, I did not talk much during the trip. No matter what happened, I kept my composure. Or did I? I would play with the ear cuff Nikolai offered me, thinking back on our moments together. Zoya would sometimes try to have me talking, we would talk a few until none of us found the strength to keep up this charade. We were both exhausted, unable to fake being anything but terrified, lost, confused.

 During the trip, Alina disappeared and came back out of breath telling us she saw Nikolai, adding he was still himself, she knew. I did not want to believe her. I knew her to be way too optimistic, maybe more realistic, but I did not wish to believe her. I did not wish to have false hopes, believing Nikolai was lost seemed easier than spending my energy on hoping.

 Hope is what keeps us alive, I heard him say in my head. And I knew, Saints did I know that hope kept us alive… And part of me was still hopeful. I would later be glad this part hung on until the end.

 As much as I’d deny it, Alina’s news of having seen Nikolai, even in his demon form, and telling us he was still in there… it kept me going. Even in the hard times, even as we entered the fold, I was still thinking, maybe he’ll come out of the sky, grinning as usual, explaining us how he oh so easily escaped the hands of darkness. How he was back and ready to outwit that geezer of Darkling.

 It was anything but. The attack in the fold went awry at some point, I did not know when, I knew I got shot but kept going by stopping the bleeding. We couldn’t see anything anymore, I had gotten separated from the squad, and was now cornered. I tried to fight off the Volcra the best I could, but there were no inferni around, no Sun Summoner. I was going to die, but hopefully it wouldn’t have been in vain and in the end, Alina will have killed The Darkling.

 Death did not happen. Instead, an ear-piercing screech did. I felt talons grip my shoulders, it hurt but they did not dug fully into my skin, I tried to fight off the Volcra that had grabbed me. Fear coursing through my body, but as I did, I realize it was bringing me closer to the limit of the Fold.

 Then, a blinding light.

 Alina’s power. She was using it, she was helping us, she was winning. Darkness was going away, everything was clearing up, the Volcra- I was now falling. The Volcra that was carrying me had let go, I looked where it would have been standing and saw a blond mop of hair. Nikolai? I thought, before I could see who it was, I hit the ground hard and lost consciousness.

 I mustn’t have passed out long, since when I opened my eyes, the brightness was only dispersing. I stood up quickly, and looked around me, a naked body on the ground next to me. Turning their head, I gasped and tried to get them to wake up, “Nikolai! Nikolai, please wake up, for the love of Saints, wake up!” I took off my kefta and covered him the best I could, repeating his name over and over again. I knew he was still alive, I could feel it, but I was afraid to use my power in this state.

 The adrenaline coursing through my vein would make me fuck up, which I did not want. After a few moments, I heard groans and the man in front of me sat up, I moved the kefta to cover him properly. When I met his gaze, my heart stopped.

 He was exhausted. Covered in bruises, his hair messy, his gaze confused. “You’re back…” I whispered, reaching out for him, he took my hand in his and brought it to his chest, “Did you ever doubt it? I am well-versed in achieving the improbable.” He said with a grin, I stared at him in awe, feeling the tears welling up. I wiped them away before they could even roll down my cheeks, “I’ll admit I did, but I am relieved you’re alive,”

 He brought me in a tight hug, which I broke quickly as I leaned back and quirked a brow, looking at him insistently. He looked down at himself then back at me, “I do hope you are enjoying the view, gorgeous, it’s a sample of what you’ll get once we-“ “Your majesty! Are you alright?”

 And here, our moment got ruined. I stood up and was about to explain hat had happened, when Nikolai spoke, “The Volcra did not seem to enjoy my fashion sense, they ripped it to shreds. You have spare uniforms laying around, yes?” The soldiers nodded and led him to the tents set nearby.

 I waited until everyone left what remained of the Fold. The survivors returned to the camp, we counted our wounded, healers did their work. I saw Alina bring in a wounded man and noticed by the look in her eyes this was the person that mattered to her. She seemed different than before, she also kept her head low, as if she was hiding. So, I did not say anything.

 Nikolai had her brought in, they talked a long while, whilst my wounds were getting tended to.

 Part of me hoped they weren’t arranging a real marriage. I knew it was stupid, but I still thought it could still happen. My daydream was interrupted when the healer went for the gloves around my hands, I stopped him, “No need, there’s nothing-“ “I must check, I’ve taken care of everything but I have to be sure,” I did not want them to see, I tried to snatch my hand away and heard a throat clearing by the entrance.

 “The lady said no, out you go, I would like to have a word with her. No one is allowed, this is important matter,” Just like that, Nikolai had kicked the healer out of his own tent. I told him off, telling him he was making a scene and yet let him hold my hands gently as he looked at me without a word. The prettiest smile adorned his features, even as I berated him. When I was done, he smiled wider, “You are so beautiful when you’re passionately yelling at me,” “Nikolai,”

 “What’s with the gloves, dove?” he asked in all seriousness, his fingers grazing the edge of he long gloves. “I…” “May I?” He asked. I nodded. He pulled them off and saw the dark lines on my left arm, “It’s healed up, there’s just nothing they could do about that. I don’t know… I-“ “How did this happen? Tell me,”

 I paused then pulled him closer, “You did, but it’s alright, I forgive you- It wasn’t done out of malice or anything of that sort, I had tried to keep you closer but the-“ he ran his hands through his hair and apologized. He seemed to be truly regretting it, even though he was probably unaware of his own actions.

 “Nikolai, please, it’s nothing. It’s over,” I grabbed his hand and only now noticed he had the same marks as I did. His hands were covered in black threads almost. He looked at our intertwined hands a moment, “What if it’s not over?” Vulnerability, something the King rarely showed. “Then I’ll be here every step of the way,” He pulled me into a hug and stood there a moment.

 I broke the silence, adding, “It has some charms, don’t you think? It’s almost matching tattoos,” I said jokingly. The blond man laughed wholeheartedly as he leaned back, “I say it’d look even better with,” he grabbed my hand a slid a golden ring on my ring finger, “this, don’t you think it complements it?” I looked at it in bewilderment, gazing up at Nikolai. My hand went to the ear cuff he had offered me, he stopped me, “Keep it, I think Sturmhond would agree it suits you better than him,”

 I laughed. “I suppose we did win… I am still not fit to be Queen, and I am still very set on you being a complete fool for doing this,” I said calmly, but inside my heart was soaring. “It’s a lot of words to say yes, don’t you think?” He said teasingly, his hands cradling my face, “Let me try again,”

 He kissed my lips tenderly, “Will you marry me, gorgeous?”

 I nodded and pecked his lips softly, “Yes, my prince,”

 “I am actually a King now,” “Please Nikolai, just this once, shut up,”

 He leaned in, “Gladly,” and kissed me once more.

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