#× ↠ ❛ if they pronounce your name like a curse then you may as well teach their mouths how to taste a growing hell ❜ ↠ ( isms ) ×

[promitto-amor]

Should Something Happen

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x You

Summary: While working as Jigsaw Apprentices, Amanda spoils some quality bonding time between yourself and Hoffman.

Warnings: Cursing!

Might this actually be a little bit of fluff? I wanted to do something involving the main Jigsaw crew and a protective Hoffman. 👀

Perhaps the only aspect of being an apprentice Mark enjoyed was the opportunity to work alongside you. Every trap crafted, every game played and every eventual death led Mark one step closer to his freedom. A life no longer in servitude for an impulsive act of vengeance. Mark had always struggled to quell his impulsiveness. It made him good in the field, Mark had earned a fair share of promotions for his quick actions, but his greatest mistake had cost him almost a year of servitude to Jigsaw himself. Until his sentence was up, until mark could be certain both John Kramer and his helper monkey were dead, he would carry out his part in the games with minimal complaint. In the meantime, he could find a steady contentment in watching the slackened, dream-like expression on your face as you fiddled with some shards of broken glass. 

“Careful,” Mark finds himself saying, “It’s not intended to spill your blood.”

You drop the shards back into the glass coffin and wander back to the workbench you’ve commandeered as a desk, “There’s so many traps,” You whine and if it were anyone else Mark would be grinding his teeth together. You flip your notebook onto a fresh page, “Who is this one for again?”

“I try not to make a habit of remembering names.” Mark answers, “Once you name something you get attached.”

You nod, “You’re right.” You pick up your pencil and hover it over the page. “Sadly I don’t have that luxury.” Mark keeps one eye on you as he cleans up his workbench, placing a set of screwdriver heads back in their assigned places. You think for a couple more minutes, your expression growing more pained till you drop the pencil again. “How can I write the tape for someone I know barely anything about?”

“Don’t ask me,” Mark says. “I’ve never been one for words.”

You give him a shrewd look, as if confirming his words. “You have special uses.” You say, jumping off your stool and heading over to a stack of boxes, freshly delivered.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

You send him a small smile, “Brawn, muscle, inside info…” 

“Is that all I am?” Mark can’t help the flicker of irritation he feels, “A meathead?”

“No,” You return to him, catching on you may have offended him. “You…” A couple teeth sink into your lip, “You’re the only one whose behaving.” 

Mark glances towards the open door, connecting the room to the rest of the Nerve Gas House, “Go on.”

You turn cagey, “Ever since Mexico…”

“Ah,” Mark nods, “Say no more.”

“I don’t like what I’ve been hearing.” You admit, “The aim of all this was never revenge.”

“Was it not?” Mark enjoys how your head lifts up to meet his gaze, “Was that not why you got mixed up in all this?”

You fix him with eyes of steel, “Maybe…” You admit, “But not anymore. Seems we’re cut from the same cloth, Detective.”

Mark likes how you say his title, pronouncing every syllable distinctly, “You don’t know me. Not really.”

“Maybe we should work on that?”

Something gives a leap inside Mark. Before he can answer you’re back at the delivery boxes and Amanda is thudding through the door. Her steel toe capped boots echo on the wood, little patches of dust springing up where she steps. She pauses on catching Mark stood in the centre of the room, “Admiring my work?” She asks, tilting her head.

“I thought John made this one?” You pipe up, before Mark can.

“He did.” Mark confirms, “That’s why this one has some refinement.”

“But it was my idea to add the…” Amanda’s points to the walls and then places her hands a couple inches apart. She presses them together slowly, applying pressure. The visual is enough for Mark to look away.

You busy yourself with the boxes again, “There’s nothing but syringes.” You take out one to show the two apprentices.

Mark tosses you a pair of gloves, “Put them on, they probably aren’t clean.”

You make a face and drop the syringe you’re holding, “Great. I’m going to need a check-up after this.”

“Be thankful you’re not the poor bastard diving in there.” Amanda smirks, heading over to inspect the coffin trap. “Is this one done yet?”

“Just needs a couple tests,” Mark says. “Any volunteers?”

“You first.” Amanda holds her arms up as if she’s a presenter, “Get in there, Detective.”

“What about you, babe?” Amanda slinks over to you and throws an arm around your shoulders, “The glass isn’t in yet, it’ll be like taking a good nap.”

“Stop trying to scare her.” Mark’s voice comes out with more bite than he expected. 

Amanda’s eyes flash, “Why you protective all of a sudden, Hoffman?”

Mark would never confess to the bitch before him, but he’s made a mistake and Amanda knows it. “We’re not testing anything without John here.”

Amanda makes a noncommittal noise.

“If John approves it, I’ll test it.” You offer, “I trust him.” Amanda jumps back into performance mode, “Aren’t they precious?”

“If you put this on.” You gingerly remove from another box a very familiar contraption and hold it out for Amanda to see. Mark grins behind Amanda’s back. He can just picture the colour draining from her face. Amanda doesn’t move as you walk past her with the Reverse Bear Trap in hand, “Very funny.” She calls, trying to reclaim some of her bravado.

“I thought so.” You counter, placing the device on the workbench.

Amanda’s scowl only becomes more prominent the longer she stares at her old trap, “Why is that here?” “Inventory.” You supply, “Or so I’m guessing.”

“Something old can always be re-used.” John wheels himself into the room. Wheelchair bound, he surveys the glass coffin standing pride of place in the middle of the room. “Is Laura’s test finished?”

“Almost,” Mark busies himself with checking over the gears situated behind the coffin.

“Laura,” You repeat, scribbling something on your pad. “I couldn’t for the life of me remember.”

John appears amused at your choice of words, “Writer’s block?” You look up as John wheels himself over to you. The Reverse Bear Trap is sat just a few feet away, Mark doesn’t like how close you are to something so barbaric. With you showing John your tape speeches and Mark still preoccupied with the gears, Amanda sulks in the middle. She makes her way over to Mark’s toolbox and grabs a wrench, right in John’s line of sight. Mark thinks it’s pathetic behaviour, how co-dependent she’s become since Mexico. He can see that your worries were justified. She makes her way over to the trap, but Mark has left her with nothing to do.

“There’s one glaring issue I see with this entire game,” You say in a low voice. You glance over to Amanda, “Won’t they all get suspicious if every one of them has a trap but her?”

“What did you say?”

“Amanda,” John cautions as his apprentice as she wheels round on the spot.

“I just worry that something will happen.” You say, closing your notebook and leaning against the workbench. “Are you really betting on all them failing and Daniel just being the last one left alive?”

“He doesn’t have a trap either.” Amanda points out, “I’m not the only one.”

“He isn’t being tested.” John states simply, “That is why you are there, Amanda. To protect him.” He turns back to you, “Nor is Amanda being tested.”

‘I still think we should put something in there.” You hold up your hands, “I think it’s foolish to leave it to chance.”

“Not if you can predict the outcome.”

Mark has heard it all before from John Kramer. He knows your attempts are futile, so he finishes up his work on the coffin and with nothing else to do, makes his way to the door. “I’m done for the night.”

“Thank you, Mark.” John says, “The game begins tomorrow. I presume you’ll be in position?”

“On the monitors.” He nods.

He’s been excused. Mark should go home and rest up for a long day ahead tomorrow. But he can’t quite bring himself to leave. John has resumed helping you with writing out the tape for the trap, but Mark doesn’t like how Amanda won’t leave the two of you alone. Her new behaviour has made him protective. Mark would have liked you to finish up at the same time as him. Perhaps he could offer to drop you home and they could work on getting to know each other.

“You want to put me in that.”

You, John and Mark all turn to Amanda, “What?” You ask.

Amanda nods, “That.” She points to the Reverse Bear Trap, “You want that to be my test. You want me to do it again?”

John glances imperceptibly to Mark. He swallows, so John shares their concern about his favourite apprentice. “Do you know how stupid you sound?” Mark cuts in, taking up what he hopes is a casual position beside you. “Everyone knows you already escaped it. 24/7 news coverage.” You’re still leaning against the workbench as Amanda walks around it, her eyes fixed on you as if you were prey. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You taunt, “Some poetic justice”, but Amanda doesn’t find it clever. 

She shoves the Reverse Bear Trap toward you, “You don’t deserve to be here.” She hisses. Mark swears he can hear a ticking sound as you brace your arms on the table, “Of all the people to win, it had to be you didn’t it?” “Fair and square.” You return and Mark finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what your own game was. Before Amanda, before Mark himself joined Jigsaw, you were tested and won. His eyes fall on the scar on your neck, all that remains of your own brush with death.

“Use your brain,” You counter and your face is far too close to the trap as you glare back at Amanda Young. “You’d have to wake up in it, or someone would have to put you in it. I don’t think either of those are going to work in this game.”

“How about you wake up in it, you bitch?”

Mark’s hands snake around your middle and yank you back just as the trap rips open with a loud bang. The ferocity makes both you and Amanda jump. You would have fallen off your stool if not for Mark’s chest breaking your fall. He can feel the sharp breaths you take as the Reverse Bear Trap cools down and lies dormant once more.

“Amanda, take the trap and put it in my office.” John says. His apprentice turns wide, teary eyes on him, but John’s face is expressionless. “Now.”

She obeys instantly, taking the trap and striding out of the room.

Mark slides you back onto your stool, “Thank you.” You murmur, hand jumping instinctively to your neck.

“Are you alright?” John asks and you nod. Mark can see right through you, he could feel the tremors of your body against his. That was a close call. 

“She’s out of line, John.” Mark says, “I don’t know what the fuck happened over there, but it’s messed with her.”

“Amanda will be fine.” John insists, “She will play her part, so long as she isn’t provoked.” You nod, understanding your own fault but Mark refuses to admit to his own. “Now Detective, I believe we’re finished here. I will see you both tomorrow for the final preparations.”

Mark watches John wheel himself out. The moment he’s gone you rest your forearms on the workbench and place your head on them. You let out a deep sigh. Mark’s never been good at consoling anyone. It’s just not what he does. Not since Angelina…

He spots your fallen notebook and places it beside you, “Need a ride home?” “I don’t think I want to go home.” You say, your voice weak.

“You don’t want to stay here.” Mark says, “You can’t anyway. They all…arrive tomorrow.”

“How can you do that?” You lift up your head, “How can you willingly put people in here knowing they will probably die?” Mark meets your eyes, “I convince myself they deserve to suffer.”

“You don’t lie awake thinking about it?”

“No,” He’s being honest. “I think it’s one less shitty person out there.”

“Then you must think that about me.” You push some hair out of your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself. “I’m not…you know what I did-“

“And you know what I did.” Mark takes you by your forearms, “Do you think I’m a monster?”

Your eyes dart around the room and then land on the glass coffin, “Sometimes.” Mark allows himself time to digest that, it isn’t what he wanted to hear. But your hands come to rest on his own forearms and then you’re pressing your forehead into his chest, “But you make me feel safe. You help me.”

He didn’t expect to earn such close proximity again, this time deliberately. Mark pulls you closer, your hands slide up to rest on his chest and Mark curses his choice to remain in a jacket. Your warmth is tantalising as it seeps into him. Mark tucks you into his large frame and winds his arms back around you.

It feels good to be wanted.

With your face smushed into him, Mark rests his head atop yours. He doesn’t know what else he can do, so he lets his eyes close. “We can look out for each other.” He proposes, “Should something happen.”

“I’d like that.”

[daisybianca]

pairing: max verstappen x femalereader

summary: you're max's rival, and you kind of want to spit into each other's face. one day, one of his confessions makes things a little more complicated and... hot.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

THERE WAS NOTHING quite like the thrill of competing in Formula One.

As a driver, it took skill, stamina, and a little bit of luck to come out on top.

Max Verstappen had all of that, and then some. He was ruthless on the track, and people called him "Mad Max" for good reason.

When he got behind the wheel, he seemed unstoppable.

But there was one driver who had the potential to take him down: you.

You were just as skilled as he was, and you bad the same hunger for success.

Every time you stepped on the track, you felt a rush, knowing that you were up against one of the best.

You pushed yourself harder than you ever had before, determined to come out on top.

You had always felt a mix of anger and respect towards him.

Recently, though, you just craved to encircle his neck with your palms and compress the air out of his throat until he is on the floor unconscious.

Mean? You were not.

He may seem kind from the screen, but if other people knew him in person, they would be of the very same belief as you.

It could be they way he ironically talked to you or that sometimes he mispronounced your name in purpose.

His teammates and friends didn't seem to hate him at all, and that was what concerned you.

Are you the only one that gets disgusted just at the presence of him?

One day, as you were scrolling on your phone in the garage, you feel a tall figure approach you.

"You know, you and I, we're not so different." He leaned closer and as soon as you heard his voice you couldn't help but roll you eyes in annoyance. "We both have that hunger, the need to win. I can see it in your eyes. It's what sets us apart from the rest of the grid."

He was good looking, you'd give him that. But every part of his personality stink.

You were not exaggerating.

You looked Max straight in the eye. "You're right, Max. And that's why I'm not going to hold back this time. I'm going to race you like never before." You turned away to leave, but were surely surprised when a hand grabbed your wrist.

Tight and hard.

So hard that when it left your skin, it ached.

"Stop torturing me, (y/n)." Max's eyes were dark blue as if a shadow had taken over now.

He was angry.

You had never seen him like that.

"Torturing you?" You flipped your hair and went to leave, trying to hide the pain on your flesh which was previously caused by his hand. "You're such a drama queen, Max."

"You know, that little, smart mouth of yours has to be kept shut at times." His word made you turn to face him again automatically. You felt your hair stand on your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a few ideas on how to keep it shut, though." He crossed his arms and leaned into the wall behind you. "If only you let me."

You had to breathe. But you couldn't. It was too much and you hated the way he made you feel. Just like how much you hated him.

"Bullshit." You cursed and went to leave again.

A hand grabbed you again. His grip wasn't that tight this time, but you didn't have much time to think about it anyway. Max slammed his lips on yours and all of your thoughts melted away at once.

He was so close and so... fuck.

"I don't want you to be just a rival to me, (y/n)." His words were barely a whisper as he stopped the kiss for a few moments only to look at you. His left hand cupped and caressed your cheek while the other found each way to your back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You had to answer, yet you had no answer. You just wanted him to lean in again and...

"Words, (y/n)."

The way he pronounced your name as if he owned it made you shiver.

"Tell me what you think." He said.

"Max, I..." You tried to detect the right words, but his lips on your sensitive neck made it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything else but him.

"Hmm...?" He buried his face in your neck and hair. "Fuck, you're so warm..."

"You have no idea." Your response was murmured.

"I bet you're more warmer somewhere else..." His lips found your chest, and he started making his way down your belly.

"Max." Your hands and legs were tremulous.

"Yes?" He looked at you.

"Can I ask for something?"

"Anything." He answered. "Except letting you win."

"That happens anyway, dummy." You teased.

His laugh was contagious. "Tell me, (y/n)."

"Please..." You murmured.

"Please, what, love?"

Your response was instant, even though you hated saying it out loud. You hated him. But you hated the way he made you feel more. "Please, fuck me."

[maxybabyy]

It’s barely noon.

Daniel has only been back in Monaco for a handful of hours, burnt out from flying commercial and dressed obnoxiously in bright orange, and still, he’s here.

He pulls up Max’s text one more time and stares sceptically at the building in front of him. But he’s in the right spot, the tiny guy on the map right on top of the address Max had sent.

The lady behind the reception desk looks up when he enters, a polite smile on her lips as she comes forward to greet him, “Bonjour monsieur, comment ca va?”

Daniel’s been here for too long for his French to be as bad as it is, stutters out a, “Ca va bien,” before he switches to English. “Uh, I’m here for my cats?”

“Certainly,” she says, her accent even less pronounced than Charles’. She goes back behind the desk, points out the small bevvy station on her way there. Daniel’s been in formula one for over ten years, has lived in Monaco for most of that, but this fucking cat hotel may still be the fanciest shit he’s been to. “May I ask what cats you are here for?”

Daniel jiggles the handle of the coffeemaker, watches what he hopes is coffee drip into the branded to-go cup. “Uh, Jimmy and Sassy? They’re like, Bengals, with the stripes and shit? If you have two cats that look the same, I reckon it’s probably them,” he says, searches and fails to locate a lid.

The lady coughs, and Daniel decisively doesn’t look at her, cannot – knows she has to be laughing at him. Fucking, disaster step-cat dad that he is; Max would already have them loaded up in the car and be on his way.

“The cats are registered with internal ID numbers, monsieur. I cannot tell you if we have your cats otherwise, my apologies,” she tells him, not unkind.

“Right, yeah. Let me get those for you then,” he says, chuckles. He scrolls back to the cursed message that had started it all, rattles off the IDs for both cats to the lady’s mild surprise.

‘you of course don’t have to, but always the cats like it better when they can be at home.’ He reads back now, wishes he had never ventured into the world of cat sitting and long-term pet boarding.

“I will have someone come out with your cats right away, monsieur Verstappen,” she says, taps away at the computer for a moment before the printer starts to spit out a stack of papers. “If I can just have you sign here, you will be all set.”

Daniel swallows down half of the coffee, scrapes his teeth over his tongue to mask the burn. “’course, I’m not Max, though. Just for filing purposes, I guess.” He says, scribbles his signature on the dotted line. It’s the same fucking signature that he would do on a hat or whatever the fans put in front of him, and it shouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but it does. “My name’s Daniel. Ricciardo, I should be on the list though.”

The lady smiles, licks her finger to flick a page. “Certainly, monsieur Ricciardo.”

A man in his early twenties comes out, a cat carrier in each arm. He puts the cats on the desk and rattles off a report of their stay these past weeks, the meals they had, how they behaved, their moods.

Daniel tries to listen, makes himself remember enough that Max will be satisfied even if they didn’t also send out an update by mail every three days. The guy doesn’t stop talking, so Daniel nods along, pokes his finger through the grid and watches Sassy swat at it; Jimmy who gives him a polite lick.

Even if their names weren’t printed on the carrier, this would give them away. That at least he knows.

“Great, yeah. Thanks mate,” Daniel says and moves them down to rest by his feet. “Do I need to pay something, or will we get an invoice, or like?”

“Monsieur Verstappen has an account with us, so there is no need for that. He will be notified by mail. But I can offer you a receipt?” She says, and even she sounds unsure about the offer.

“Yeah, that would be good, cheers.”

The printer makes another noise, and one of the cats meows in response, the other quick to echo. She hands it over with a smile, and Daniel stuffs it into his pocket with a quick ‘thanks’ and picks up his cats to leave.

He’s lying on the couch later, Jimmy on his chest and Max’s latest voice message playing over the phone when he finally pulls out the receipt.

“You’re such a fucking spoilt cat, Jims.” He says, kisses his head.

Jimmy meows softly, bumps his chin with his head, so Daniel kisses him again, watches his tail flick in the air.

Yeah, alright, he thinks, maybe they do deserve it.  

[arxxq]

The name Scaramouche, kunikuzushi and kabukimono has been forgotten in the world of teyvat, no one but the traveler knows him now...but what if there was someone other than the traveler who still remembers him? someone who wanderer cherished and loved...(I apologize for the small text used, it looked cute to use)

(apologizing if I mentioned she/her pronounces I'll fix it one day..I write in my perspective and I'm a female...so that's why there might be things indicating this for a female but I promise you all genders may read)

(first time writing genshin)

(mistakes will be fixed one soon)

You're no human that's for sure...or were you human?

You never considered yourself as human...maybe because you were cursed to live an external life. Ever since the downfall of what we know as the fallen nation, you were cursed with immortality. You were no one important but a citizen of inazuma but why is it were you cursed as well?

Could it be because you have never saw yourself as a human being? or was it because you never had a reason to live? You never knew.

Living for centuries and decades you were all alone till one day you met him. A puppet he told you. He told you he was a puppet created by his mother or in other words the electro archon but was then discarded by her. The puppet named himself kunikuzushi.

Your interaction with him was quite unexpected. He seemed so tense, like a closed book. But from that day onwards you vow to yourself to be his friends no matter how many times he had refused...

As time goes on in teyvat you succeeded. You stayed by his side no matter what. Even if those time he had changed to be a ruthless fatui member, you never failed to stay. Even when he joined the fatui you gladly stayed with him even after what he had done...and instead of being his friend the two of you became more of lovers instead.

But you never liked it how he joined the fatui. You had mixed feelings of it. You don't trust anyone in it including the cryo archon the tsaritsa. But the person you absolutely held suspicion on was the doctor also known as dottore.

Years adds on, one day you informed scaramouche that you'll be returning to inazuma to see how much the city changed after hearing a brave traveler had saved it. Scaramouche was hesitant to let you go but he did but what he didn't tell you was that he was headed to sumeru for something you would never had agreed on.

you enjoyed your time in inazuma and even made alot of acquaintances but something felt off. You never heard anything from Scaramouche, no letters at all. It didn't feel right. That's when you decided to ask a fatui guard. Lucky for you they didn't ambush you but when you asked...you were in disbelief when they said they don't know who this "balladeer" you were talking about.

You explained to them he was the 6th harbinger but they all assumed you were crazy and delusional. "I'm sorry ma'am but the 6th spot has remain empty for years...are you okay?" You heart broke. What in teyvat happen to your lover. "Ah..I'm sorry my head must be playing games on me..sorry to interrupt," you played along. You were in utter shock. It was as if your beloved was wiped from teyvat's existence.

To say the least you were devastated. It felt as if you were crumbling from teyvat's surface once more.

That was months ago. You decided to travel instead, well with the help of one if the friends you made. Without captain beidou and kazuha you might as well be...well hopeless. They helped you with your grief although they themselves know nothing of this person you grief of.

One day as you were walking with nahida you caught a glimpse of someone you had missed so much. "Uhm miss nahida?" You called out for the archon. The archon looked at you and smiled. "Something the matter [name]?" You look at the direction of that familiar male. "Do you somehow know who that is?"

You then afterwards head of to explore a nation you absolutely adored from it's name, culture and it's wisdom. The land of wisdom, sumeru. The more you spent in sumeru the more attached you were to the land. You even somehow came across the hero of the 4 nations aether/lumine was his/her name along with the great archon of sumeru nahida.

Nahida looked at the person you looked at and she simply answered you. "He's just a wanderer, why you ask?" You look at the male again and replied with an answer that shocked that archon. "He looks like the balladeer...well not like you know him,"

"oh..well I don't know who that might be but he seemed like someone you really care of," silence took over till you whispered "yeah...he was,"

It was midnight, you were never able to sleep or in other words you never usually sleep or needed it. So you decided to take a stroll outside and go to a cliff you'd usually go. Usually during this time, When Scaramouche was still with you, you'd usually sleep with him or sing a lullaby for him just so he'd calm down whenever he was stressed. Oh how you missed him.

The breeze of the wind on this hill and the view...it all looked so calm and relaxed. You closed you eyes enjoying the silence and the wind. Meanwhile you didn't had realised someone behind you. The male it was none other than the wanderer nahida said but as I said you haven't noticed him yet.

In the wanderer's perspective he looked shocked to see you because he knows you. You are no...you were the love of his life back when he was still known as Scaramouche who is know forgotten. You were the person that never left his side, his lover that promise him. You promised to never leave and you fulfill it but he was the one who broke it by leaving you all alone. But he had no choice. Part of him knows he can't have you back but part of him wanted you to remember him..

some people say that your love would be meant to be...just not the right time. What was it called, right person wrong time? He didn't care. He wanted you back, he craved for you touch, your voice but he can't have it back. He doesn't want to restart. No no no he doesn't because the thing you had with each other was something special. Something that cannot be restart with once more.

While Scaramouche or wanderer was lost in his head, he didn't know that certain someone had noticed his presence. "Lost in thought are you strange wanderer," your voice had snapped him from his thoughts. The voiced that he loved so much to listen. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous for a someone like you to be out at this time,"

"are you saying I'm weak? I can defend myself you know I'm not a little girl/boy," Scaramouche took in your appearance, you certainly had changed especially since you had a vision dangling down your waist. "Staring is rude you know?"

"bold of you assume I was, show some respect," he said. You laughed. "Hey wanna know a fun fact," you asked him. "Not that I'm interested but go on I'm listening," he looked you, the way you smiled as if you were recalling something so deep in your heart and memories. The soft gaze you had towards him, it clearly warmed his heart.

"you remind me so much of my lover...his name was Scaramouche, but I call him kunikuzushi.." those words caught him off guard. Did you just...you uttered the name that was forgotten. How...how were you able to remember. "I'm sorry if I offended you! It's just that you look so much like him. You hair, your eyes, your voice and the way you speak! Basically almost everything match up,"

"I really miss him...but it's as if he vanished from the world. At first I was assuming you were him but...nahida and so many others told me you were just a wanderer so...I guess I lost hope once again," a tear fell from your eyes...sadness really ingulf the atmosphere now.

" I miss him so much..I miss just talking or looking at him...ah sorry I'm being to emotional sorry for rambling"

he was speechless. He couldn't say anything. The way you rambled about him, the fact you remembered him. He wanted to say something but tears broke out before he could utter a word. His knees even gave up...was this what they called mixed feelings. he felt relief yet happy but then again sad.

"hey wait why are you crying!? I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" "you remembered me.." he muttered. "What? Come again?" "You never forgotten who I really am..."

You looked confused. "What do you mean...aren't you just coincidence? Everyone told me he doesn't exist what do you imply exactly?" Was it really him. Was this person you have been searching for, yearning for... The person you mourn and grief.

"[nickname]...you really do remember me," that nickname...no one used it before. No one dared called you that because the only person who did was none other that Scaramouche. Tears came running like a waterfall...you vision was blurry and you embraced him as if you never wanted to let him go again.

"I'm not dreaming or hallucinating am I...I am seeing the kunikuzushi I love right?" His hand held you cheek. The hand of his was reached you cheek and wiped the tears. His touch, you were sure it was him.

Your head tells you it's not him but you're soul knows that it's him. "Now why would I lie to you my love..." This was him. You know it and you finally found him. "I don't know how you still remember me but I would like answers from you..." You look at him and thought of your answer...

"I never forgot you my love...

And that's because...

my love for you is too strong for the world to make me forget you,"

hmm it seems like those two were perfect for each other weren't they? Cause even if the world tried to take them apart, fate will always bring them back together no matter how big the challenge make be.

This is the end...

of the story named..

MEMORABLE..

-sincerely

hasinah/Arxx

(29/4/2023) do not plagiarize my works, all rights reserved of @arxxqs-blog

[skyloftian-nutcase]

"Okay," Zelda said, smacking her fist into her palm. "This one is going to be it."

Silently, her companion added a scratch mark to some parchment he'd been carrying.

Zelda glanced at him, eyes narrowing. "Are you keeping tabs?"

"Only when you say this one is going to be it or some variation of it," Link replied smoothly.

Zelda huffed, ready to argue, when out of curiosity she asked, "Where are we at?"

"Eight."

"Ha! I expected more! This is good, then."

Link sighed. "What's the story with this one?"

"Hear me out," Zelda started excitedly, spreading her hands like she was opening a large book. "A thousand years ago our land was encased in shadow."

Link stopped his horse, staring at her. "Is this another one of Beedle's stories? The last one nearly got us killed."

"No, no, no!" Zelda grumbled, rolling her eyes. "This one is from my family. History may have turned to hearsay and legend for the common folk of Hyrule, but it's sacred to my family. This one actually happened!"

Link raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but urged his steed to start moving nonetheless.

"So," Zelda continued. "A thousand years ago, shadows came to our land and cursed our people. My ancestor joined up with royalty from a distant land and together, they summoned the Hero of Light, who destroyed the shadows. That very Hero lived in the village we're going to!"

Link had to admit... he was still dubious, but he was a little curious. "An actual Hero? There's relics of one of the acutal Heroes? What royalty from a distant land? The only neighboring land I know of fell to ruin a hundred years ago."

"I don't know where it was, honestly," Zelda answered sincerely. "They were always really vague about it and I don't know why. But apparently the person died, so they honored her sacrifice."

Link hummed, tossing his braid back over his shoulder. After going through multiple villages, towns, and even a city, the fact that they were going somewhere that might have housed an actual Hero at some point in history was almost promising. Perhaps Zelda would find who she was looking for and Link could return to his quiet home and avoid all this mess.

It seemed too good to be true, though. Heroes were relegated to myths. The only reason he knew those myths were real was because of his parents. But still... they were ancient.

Surely no such catastrophe could strike the land now. The princess was just naive, right?

"Ah! We're here!" Zelda announced happily, bringing her horse's steady stroll to an end. Link watched her climb off before following suit.

"Where is here?" he asked as they passed a spring.

"Ordon Village," the princess replied, popping her hands on her hips and smiling with pride.

Link stood there beside her, staring a moment and sniffing tentatively. "It smells like manure."

Zelda scrunched her nose. "It does not! What if that smell is something else entirely?"

"It's definitely manure, Highness."

"Well your town smelled like it too!"

"My town is a trading hub!"

"I can't even smell any--" Zelda stopped in mid-sentence as the wind changed directions, scrunching her nose. "Oh."

Link turned to her, now completely affronted. "What did you smell before that made you think of my town?"

Zelda waived a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter - we have to find the Hero!"

Link sighed, following the princess into the village. "Your Highness, your story is from a thousand years ago. That Hero is long gone."

"Of course he is," Zelda replied with a roll of her eyes. "But there's word of someone named Link who lives here!"

One royal pronouncement and excited welcome later, the pair found themselves standin gover a crib.

"Well," Link quipped. "I suppose he could cry the enemy to death."

Zelda's sour look was response enough.

"Is there a Rattle that Seals the Darkness?"

"Just shut up."

The princess could only be upset for so long before she started cooing at the baby and laughing as the little bundle giggled in reply. Even Link had to smile fondly at it. The two congratulated the happy couple and gave them their well wishes before dining with the village and setting out once more.

"I think your story was a bit off," Link remarked as they walked their horses to the edge of the village.

"Just because the lead was false doesn't mean that a Hero didn't once live here," the princess said a little stiffly. "My family's history speaks of it."

He didn't argue. His own father spoke often of the royal family's role in helping Hyrule remember its history. He just... well, he had to admit he was a little disappointed. While he wasn't nearly as excited by history as his father, the promise of seeing traces of the Hero had been simultaneously intriguing and unnerving.

Either way, it was back to the road for them.

The masseur paused as the princess continued, glancing over at the spring as something sparkly caught his eye. Was that... was that a fairy? He hadn't seen one of those since he was a child, and that had only been once! Distracted, he hovered back a hair as Zelda plodded ahead, but the princess noticed his stillness.

"What is it?" she asked, coming back to him, before she saw it too. With an excited gasp, she rushed ahead, and Link tripped over himself to follow her.

The fairy flitted away quickly, but the pair stopped nonetheless.

They were back at the spring, but behind the waterfalls that fed into it, they could make out a small engraving. The two slinked around the edge of the spring (Link nearly face planted on the smooth, slick stone) until they managed to get behind the roaring water. Link shivered as they both got soaked in the misty spray, but the princess seemed completely unbothered.

Zelda's hand snaked around his upper arm, eyes fixed on a point, and she whispered, "It's him."

Link was about to question what she meant, wondering how a stone could mean anything, when he squinted at engraved words that were below a half worn symbol of the Triforce.

-ink

-elove- --ther and husba--

H-ro of L--t & Sh-d-w

"There's no grave here," Link noted softly.

"A monument to him, then," Zelda noted, though a little confusedly. "Why wouldn't they bury him here, or somewhere with honor?"

Link stared at the stone, eyes trailing down to see fresh flowers placed there. The villagers know and didn't tell the princess. A soft smile pulled at his lips. "He comes from a pretty humble place. I think... I think he wanted to keep it that way."

The princess hummed, still perplexed but trying to understand. Eventually, though, she knelt, folding her hands in prayer. Link sank to his knees, sitting on his legs rather than kneeling, eyes looking beyond the words half lost to time. He thought of the history behind his name, and behind his people, and he wished for a moment that he could claim to be part of such a heroic lineage. If the Heroes of Hyrule were truly like this...

He sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head in honor.

[whalesforhands]

HAII NYV!! hope ur doing well!!

tbh,, i’ve been thinking. How do you think SSS trio would feel about Dyf!mc going the same path suguru did? (Yk, seeing riko die and going spiraling to the point that she leaves jjt n stuffs,,) Do you think they would try and beg her to stay? Or would they let her go willingly because they’ve always wanted the best for Mc? Also, when they see each other after 11 years, Who sees her first?

tbh ive js been having brain rot of dyf so like…a million AUs are coming to me about it at once LMFAOO. but hope ure doing well, love ur writing xx

tw: yandere

lol why does ur spelling of name perfectly describe how it’s meant to be pronounced

what makes you think you’re even allowed to leave them behind like that? what makes you think you’re even able to leave them so freely?

you won’t survive out there on your own, are you just trying to die quicker? are you just trying to make them suffer just as much as you?

you’re in pain. they know, they know. you’ll get food placed outside your room’s locked door, have all 3 of them talk to you from outside too. sometimes it’s all 3 of them hanging around, sometimes it’s just 2, sometimes it’s just 1.

it’s gojo satoru that has had enough of your slump, kicking your door down with little to no effort as you flinch from shock, hiding under your blankets when you feel the dip of your mattress, and a head landing atop of your cocooned self, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“I didn’t wanna do that, ya know? You’re making things hard.”

it’s only then that he would lay down next to your form, an arm over your waist and spooning you from behind as you start to break down even harder, taking his intrusion and hoarding the comfort he gave you in this moment.

and your door’s been broken so many times you decided to just leave it unlocked… letting him and the others come and go as they please, letting him wrap his long arms around you at every given chance, letting him kiss you on the forehead every morning he gets to spend in school, telling you that he’ll be back from a mission soon.

maybe that was how it started.

“There are no missions for you, (last name).” Yaga’s scratching his head as he flips through his clipboard, carefully scanning the words.

“W-what? Why?” Your arms are shaky as you hug a Baby Panda close to yourself, soft purrs emanating from him as you pet him mindlessly. You’ve been loitering around in the campus for… Close to 3 months now.

“I’m quite confused as well. There haven’t been any curses within your grade level as of recently—“ He pauses as he flips through more papers, eyes narrowing behind dark sunglasses. “There just isn’t—“

“Then m-may I take one above my grade? T-that would put me on grounds for promotion, right?”

“You can, but there aren’t any sorcerers available to invigilate and recommend you for promotion anytime soon. Earliest I could find one is—“ The incessant flipping of papers stop.

“In about 6 months.”

ieiri shoko lets you roam around the school campus, watching you, talking to you, trying to improve your mental health. she prods you to speak your mind, convinces you that the world outside was the one that was going insane, that it wasn’t you that felt trapped, felt cornered in here.

“The campus is where you can be safe from such things. Don’t sweat it.”

and you believe her. why wouldn’t you? she’s your beloved shoko. shoko who teaches you how to do first aid when she notices how lost and listless you’re becoming, who teaches you how to treat wounds, how to stitch up open cuts, how to stop internal bleeding… all just to take up your time. she’s patient with you, holding your hands, letting you take tea breaks with her… it’s peaceful with her. you’re at ease.

so much better than being out on field, right?

geto suguru takes his time with you. he reads your favourite manga with you, asks you about the novels you have been eyeing and wanting to buy, talks about the soba noodles he had on that one trip to nagoya... hell, he’s the one who cooks food for you and helps you clean your room when he thinks you’re getting sloppy.

“Let me do it for you, okay? You’re not looking well enough to do it on your own.”

maybe that was when you thought to yourself that, maybe, just maybe… you didn’t want to leave this place.

though, if you still have some fight in you…

out of all three of them, the one who would most probably fold to your whims and let you leave is suguru. maybe when you go limp in his arms, break down crying into his chest, go quiet when he attempts to feed you…

or maybe it was that decisive kiss under the blankets of darkness, a show of your desperation and longing for something more than this that he starts to crack, starts to break. it’s then that he finally thinks that, maybe, perhaps, he needs to let you go. he’s always been quite the emotional one.

11 years of free roam? more like 11 years of surveillance. it’s not like you were allowed to go with no strings attached, you were still standing on soil that wasn’t Jujutsu Tech ground because they’re the ones who have given you this right.

they’re the ones who let you go have fun, even letting you get a job as a regular salary worker, let you get a quaint little apartment nearby, let you live the life of a regular person.

but no, oh no. you wanted to play hero again when you saw a little girl getting chased, hunted by a curse? wanted to save a life again because that’s what you could do? wanted to do?

And you got hurt from your decisions?

let’s just say you’re in for a bad time.

[weixuldo]

Allow me// ch 11

Vader x Reader

a/n: i’m finally back omggg! school has been so fucking busy lately, but here an update finally is!! ty all for being so patient with me :) and i’ll do my best to stay on top of the updates! enjoy!!

how long can vader keep avoiding you?

warnings: cursing, implied sexual activity

_____________________

Vader paced up and down the halls more domineering than normal; his aura was simply icy. Troopers bowed and scurried off faster than ever- it was evident the Sith was not to be tested today. 

Under his outward image, he was really just an insecure wreck- he felt he was too “vulnerable” with you so he needed to exude power and dominance to everyone else.

He assigned you a detail that would last mostly the whole day in a sector that he rarely visited because he was too embarrassed to face you.

Imagine that, Darth Vader, scared to confront you- not something you see everyday. 

His cape trailed behind him as he marched towards the bridge. He spent the day barking orders at the men beneath him (and force choking a few for insubordination too).

He ended the day feeling unrested and unfulfilled; part of him wanted to go meditate, but the memory of the last time there haunted him. Instead, he opted to tinker with his TIE-fighter. 

On the way to his docking bay he felt the familiar pull of his master. Palpatine wanted to speak with him…great.

He was already in a bad mood but now he had to go see what new bidding he was supposed to do. Begrudgingly he changed his path to head for the built in throne room on the upper level. 

Across the ship, you hauled your tool bag all the way back to your room after an exhausting day. Your brain was filled with worries and bad self esteem all day- you were tired and wanted to rest, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that peacefully without knowing why Vader was acting like this all of a sudden. 

After dropping your bag off, you set off to find him. Over the weeks you had gotten closer with the Sith, your ability to feel his force signature became more pronounced. 

The halls seemed more frigid than normal without the security of knowing you were on good terms with Vader (hopefully things would be getting back to normal soon).

After wandering corridor after corridor, his signature kept leading you to dead ends, was he doing this on purpose? Just to toy with you?

The truth was quite the contrary- on the top deck of the ship, Vader entertained an audience with his master; bent on an uncomfortable knee. During their meetings, Palpatine always hid their signatures with his overbearing power. 

“Are you familiar with a rebel called ‘Sabe’?” the emperor groaned. 

Under his helmet, Vader’s eye twitched at the name; he was too deep into the lie that he couldn’t just admit right now. He knew there would be dire consequences if he admitted to anything but they would be even worse if Palpatine found out on his own. 

Deep down, Vader knew that his master was aware of the actions that transpired and was just playing with him before making a scene; based on the lack of audience in the throne room, Vader deduced that he was safe…for today at least. 

The Emperor loved to make a scene. 

“No, Master. I have not heard of such a rebel”.

Vader knew he would be punished eventually, but he needed to make amends with you before anything happened to him. He couldn’t leave you feeling like he played with your emotions; after a lot of thought he realized how you might take his unwillingness to confront you- you may think he’s angry or avoiding you out of spite. 

He couldn’t have that. 

So he would delay the inevitable for just a little longer so that he could put your mind at ease (even if it meant a harsher punishment for him).

“She has apparently gained some of our intel. I was just making sure that you had no hand in it, seeing as she is a former handmaiden" Palpatine hissed. 

She was a former handmaiden and that is the main reason Vader helped her, but the emperor had been extorting his love for his former wife for far too long- he was sick of it. 

“I am aware of a handmaiden named Sabe, but it was ages ago that I was familiar with her in any capacity” Vader spoke, slowly but surely. 

The emperor nodded his cloaked head and smiled a grotesque grin, “very well apprentice, you may go”.

Vader bowed once more before heading for the exit. He was going to regret this later. 

__________________

Eventually you gave up trying to locate the Sith; if he wanted to talk, he would make it known.

Sadly, that was the dynamic he had set up.

You sat at the desk in your room and idly swiped on your personal holopad; maybe you would go tinker around when more workers turned in for the night. 

Vader rushed through the rest of his duties for the day because he knew that he didn’t have much time until Palpatine unleashed his rage upon him, all his master needed was an audience.

The armored man knew he needed to explain all of this to you; the situation, the handmaiden, padme… as well as clear up the incident from the other day. 

He was on high alert because of the emperor’s watchful eyes; the last thing he needed was you getting involved with a danger far beyond your capabilities. So he tinkered with an old mouse droid and wired it to send a message to you to be more inconspicuous.

The mouse arrived at your door with a bump on the door; the message was vague but did the job, because in no time you had made your way to Vader’s chambers. 

“Hello?” you asked to the dark room. 

“My dear…” the darkness responded.

You thought you would be able to play it off as if his absence hadn’t affected you, but as soon as you heard his deep voice, your emotions got the better of you. 

“What is going on? Why have you been avoiding me?” you said, irritation evident in your tone. 

He stepped out of the shadows and exhaled heavily. 

“It was not my intention to-”

“It really doesn’t matter what your intention was. You still avoided me. You tell me you care for me but aren’t even mature enough to tell me why!”.

“I-” he stopped to look down.

“I was wrong to avoid you. I have no excuses for my immature behavior and I sincerely apologize, y/n. Truly, I do”

“I was worried you would…look down on me…pity me. And I was trying to avoid your disappointment” he admitted, making you confused. 

“Why would I feel pity or look down upon you?” you asked sincerely. 

“You know why,” he mumbled. 

“No, I don't” you responded, crossing your arms. 

“Please don’t toy with me”.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about Vader”. 

He sighed once more and looked away, “Nevermind… I just wanted to apologize for avoiding you. It was nothing against you and I do not want you to feel slighted by me”.

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Alright… thank you for relaying that to me”

His shoulders seemed to relax.

“But how exactly am I supposed to think anything else when you aren't exactly talking to me at the moment? V, I have been tormenting myself because I was worried that I did something wrong and you just let my thoughts fester. You have no idea the power you have over me…”

WIthout another word he gently placed his gloved hands on your shoulders and bent down towards you. Your eyes widened as you felt the exhale of his respirator against your cheek. 

“From now on, I will be more forthcoming with my feelings towards you. I do not wish this “misunderstanding” to become our constant. I will do better” he promised. 

The nerve under your eye jumped, making your eye unintentionally twitch; he noticed and released his intense hold on you. It took you a moment to process his declaration.

With a deep breath, you responded. 

“V, I care about you in a way I have never felt before… All I want is you to feel similarly for me. I know you may not be able to show it all the time, but that's why our private moments mean so much more to me.” you explained, twisting your hands behind your back. 

He listened intently.

“If you weren’t comfortable with what happened the other day, I would like you to tell me. I won’t do it again and I will respect your boundaries more, I just need you to voice them so I know not to overstep-”

“You didn’t overstep at all,” his deep voice boomed. 

“It was more of an…internal… problem.” he gingerly added. 

“Internal?” you asked. 

He sighed and made his way over to the bed that he never used and sat on the edge.

“I- umm.. I have not shared the type of interaction we shared in a very long time.” he started.

You nodded, “I know”.

He turned his mask from you when you took a seat beside him. 

“My body was not quite used to the strong feelings that surge through my system when you are so near to me…it still isn’t” he admitted shyly. 

“Those feelings aren't necessarily a bad thing, at least not to me.” you said. 

“Because you make me feel the same way”.

Vader could feel the warmth creeping up onto his cheeks, “I don’t think you are fully understanding what I'm trying to say…”

“What do you mean then?”

He took a breath before explaining. 

“When we were in my chamber… those feelings of passion got the better of me and something occurred that I wasn’t aware could still happen…You are aware I was injured many years ago, correct?”.

You nodded. 

“Mostly every part of my body was affected in one way or another…meaning so was my…”

Ohhhh.

Your eyes widened just a tad, but he definitely noticed because he looked away again. 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of Vader, you fought hard and you're still here, thats all that really matters”

“Yes, but what I am trying to say is… I was just surprised when I- I wasn’t expecting…”

Before he continued to stutter out words, you gently rubbed his arm with an endearing smile. 

“Hey, It’s ok, V. Really, it is”.

“I’m sorry” he said in the softest tone you had ever heard come from him. 

You pulled him closer and he held on to your waist as you rubbed his back and assured him that you thought no different of him.

Maybe it was his age or maybe he had been deprived for so long, but he found himself able to reach a level of vulnerability with you that he never thought he could do again. Your embrace was warm and he allowed himself to lower his defenses ever so slightly.

After a few moments you asked if he wanted to lie down and he agreed. After adjusting the pressure and taking apart his suit, he ended up in your gentle embrace once more. 

In your arms he wasn't Darth Vader- the feared sith lord, nor was he the once great Jedi, Anakin Skywalker. He was just “V”. And nowadays, that's all he wanted to be. 

“I’m honestly kind of flattered” you broke the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”; he could hear the smirk in your voice.

“Do I really have to answer that?” he responded with his natural raspy voice and a smile. 

You loved hearing him without the mask. Of course, his mechanical deep voice still did something for you, but there was something so appealing about his softer spoken raspy voice; the gasses of Mustafar left his vocal chords scorched (much like the rest of him).

“Yes” you responded playfully. 

“Then, yes. You have a powerful hold over me” he said; his intense eyes burrowed into yours making you turn away and blush. 

“Turning away from me? Why so shy?” he quipped.

His gloved hand brushed against your cheek and you reveled in the feeling before grabbing his hand, mid-motion.

“How did it feel? Was it good?”.

His eyes widened and his mouth parted as you lifted yourself on top of him.

“I-” he started before you gently settled your ass over his crotch area. 

You bent down with a smirk and whispered into his ear, “now who’s the shy one”.

He exhaled shakily and felt his dick twitch; maker, it felt blissful. 

“I-it felt good… so, so good” he responded, placing his hands around your waist. 

“Before I knew it, I just couldn’t contain my pleasure anymore- not with you sitting so prettily on my lap”.

“So how exactly are you lying so still right now if we’re in almost the same position?” you asked. 

“I'm barely holding it together, my dear” he seemed to growl.

“Shall we fix that?”.

“That would be a pleasing course of action” he responded with a mischievous smile. 

____________________________

After some activities, the two of you cuddled up next to each other and talked about everything under the sun. Likes, dislikes, past, future, eachother… Everything was in high spirits until Vader remembered why he wanted to talk about this with you today (in particular).

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Vader decided to speak. 

“My master wishes to hold an audience tomorrow.” he said, staring at the ceiling. 

“What is it this time? Hopefully it will be short” you responded as you traced small circles on his chest plate. 

“I don’t think it will be quick. In fact the meeting may take several days”.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, slightly sitting up. 

“I have pushed back a matter the emperor has been pursuing. I have lied to him to better myself but I know he has caught me. He is only calling an audience so he can make an example of me.”

“Vader, if you know that, you can’t go!” you exclaimed. 

“Unfortunately it is a position I have been in before…. There is nothing I can do to avoid it; even if I tried to, my punishment would be even worse-”

You sat up and looked down at him, “Please, you can’t. What if- What if the emperor..”

Vader’s eyes faded into the comforting blue and he propped himself up to your height. 

“It means the galaxy that you are concerned about for me, y/n. But no matter what happens, I won’t give up because I have you to look forward to seeing. I have you to look forward to being with when these insufferable trials are finished.” he brought your forehead to his gently. 

“But Palpatine? Would he… would he kill you?” you asked quietly. 

Vader shook his head, “Not as long as I am useful to the empire, and as of now, I am a key asset. But do not fret too much darling, I will return.”

Though his reassurance was nice to hear, it did little to lessen the tension in the force surrounding the both of you. Neither of you wanted to address it, so instead you laid back down in each other's arms and pretended everything was going to be ok. 

***

a/n: just for clarification they didnt have sex, they just did other things (saving the sex for another ch lol. sorry again for being so late w the updates 😭 lmk if u liked the chapter though!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry

[raven-cincaide]

Grow up a little 

Summary: There are nights when you can’t sleep and nights like tonight when you can’t stay awake and alone. So you seek out the only person who may scold and tease you but still won’t have the heart to say ‘no’. 

Pairing: GN!Reader x Nobara Kugiskai 

Prompt Back to Basics → 26. Falling asleep

Wordcount:  ~1.2

Warnings: Cursing, Nobara fluff, Platonic

Shuffle shuffle shuffle

Shuffle shuffle 

Shiff- duns!

You jumped back,  stifling a startled scream as the heavy oak dorm door slammed open with such violence it hit the wall behind it. The hinges shook and squealed, a sound eerily resembling laughter. Which would be rather fitting given your almost pitiful appearance: dressed in Batman pyjamas, with a matching eyemask resting on your forehead, matching slippers and a huge plain white pillow under one arm. You stood with your second hand raised in the air; your fist was curled and flexed forward, seconds away from knocking on the above-mentioned door. Had you been a second earlier, that door would have likely taken your entire arm off- either on its way to ‘open’ or on the bounce back to ‘closed’. 

“Seriously?-” Your eyes shifted away from the closing door, which was opened again by the owner of the huffy voice. Nobara was dressed in her usual set of lacy pink with white stripes and black details pyjamas- an obviously cheaper knockoff of Victoria's Secret and with a pair of plain white slippers on her feet. The kind you couldn’t tell if it was from a shop whose name you couldn’t pronounce or Daiso- “When are you gonna grow up? You can’t keep coming here after every encounter with a curse!”

Nobara’s tone was harsh, and a scolding judging glare accompanied her words. Despite her stern appearance and less-than-kind words, she didn’t shut the door straight in your face. If anything, she kept it open with her foot, almost like an invitation. You smiled inwardly at that but bit the inside of your cheek to not show it. Instead, you tried to look more pity-inducing and held the pillow a little closer to yourself.

An expression of I can’t sleep on your face. She raised an eyebrow in response and didn’t budge.

“I can sleep on the floor” " you offered with a light shrug. The floors of Nobara’s room were especially cold and bare; a draft from the crack in the window pane would let the icy night air into the already AC-chilled room. The cold would sink to the bottom of the room, crawl towards the door, hit it and then roll back. You twist and turn against it but to no avail. No, this arrangement would effectively turn you into a frost-bitten-rottiserie-chicken. Overall, it was a sleeping arrangement which would be less than comfortable and far from ideal. But you’d take it over the possibility of being alone in your far too large dorm room where every creak and groan made you jump out of bed with your heart in your throat and cursed weapons at ready. On stormy nights, you’d attack the cupboard opposite before realising your mistake. Tonight was one such night.

So, you’d take being uncomfortable over yet another sleepless night. 

Nobara’s loud snort brought you out of your thoughts just in time to see her turn on her heel and head back into her dorm room. She left the door open- an unmistakable invitation for you to come inside. “And then I gotta hear you whine all through morning training how sore your back is? No, thank you!” Nobara called over her shoulder, an unmistakable swing of her hips in her step. It was as if having you show up at the door was some kind of confidence boost and a power trip at once, a reminder that she was in charge and not to think for even a second to step out of line or bend the rules. She offered to let you stay out of the goodness of her heart, her quota of good deeds accumulated for the day, and she’d not have a problem turning you into pulp if you overstepped. 

You gulped, knowing full well that woman slept with a hammer under her head. 

Nobara pushed the covers aside and sat down on her bed. When you didn’t move from the door, she tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed dangerously at you.  Her expression read one thing:  Well, You better hurry the hell up before she changes her mind. 

You don’t bother hiding your grin as you shut the door behind you. The piddle-paddle of your feet filled the room's silence as you rushed towards her, haphazardly kicking your slippers off a second before reaching her bed. You threw your pillow towards the headboard and dove for the covers. An ‘ouph’ spilt from your lips as your body made contact with the bed, the semi-hard surface knocking your breath out of you. 

“Hey, if you keep jumping like that, you’ll break it!” Nobara grumbled, then yelped as you reached out and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her backwards. She angled her body and flopped purposefully on top of you, turning your laughter into a mock wail of pain as she smooshed you between herself and the bed. Now it was her turn to laugh as she resettled your arms off herself, shifted, and pinned one behind your back in a tight yet not painful hold. “Who’s laughing now, huh?!”

“Owie, I’m sorry”, you cried.

You weren’t. The following laughter showed that as you reached up with your other free hand and tickled her bare foot. Nobara’s girlish squeal surprised you both. For a moment, you froze up. You were surprised that Nobara could even make a sound like that, and Nobara seemed surprised and embarrassed by her reaction. Then your surprise morphed into a devious grin, which did not go unnoticed by Nobara. Her ‘Don’t you dare’ had little effect on your mischief as you made a launch for her feet while she tried to shove you under blankets, roll you up and spike you down like a burrito. A fight you weren’t intending to lose. Not as long as both of your laughs echoed off the walls…

Almost an hour later, you both finally settled down in her bed. You lay on the right side closest to the door, and she laid on her favourite cooler left side facing the window. The lights were out, the room eerie silent but for the draft which wailed pitifully from Nobara’s window whenever the wind outside picked up. 

You felt your eyelids grow heavy. Sleep played on the edges of your vision as you stared at Nobara’s back, inhaling and exhaling contentiously. 

“ Nobara?” Your voice was sleepy but still loud enough for her to hear you. She responded with a slightly less sleepy  ‘mm?’ “ Thank you.” The word felt pitifully small and did not reflect everything you wanted to say to her. How you thought she was an incredibly kind, caring person who-

“ Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t take it as an invitation to cuddle, and don’t even THINK to slobber all over my pillows, or I swear I’ll drive a nail right through you,” she threatened, definitely more awake than you gave her credit for. 

Her tirade made you chuckle awkwardly before finally closing your eyes. You knew she didn’t mean it… not entirely, at least. 

Author note: This is my first attempt at a lot of things: A gender-neutral fic, a platonic fic and a fic where the reader is paired with a female canon character. Phew, talk about challenging the basics. Please let me know how I did, and I hope you enjoyed the read 

On a side note: As of next week Wednesday ‘Back To The Basics’ prompts are taking a hiatus until November 1st while my time and efforts go towards prompts in preparation for Kinktober and Sweetober as well as @pixelcafe-network Friday Challenges! 

So, for next time, which prompt and which character should I do?

Main |Raven | Rules and Requests | Masterlist | Links

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[magic-the-girlbossing]

I've recently been cooking up a Rowan, Scion of War deck and one of the things that struck me while I was thinking about the way I wanted to win with the deck is how perfect Crackle with Power is as a wincon for her and the way that perfectly integrates her function in gameplay with her character and motivation in the Wilds of Eldraine story.

For a primer, here are the cards that I'm talking about:

Rowan, Scion of War taps to reduce the cost of all red or black spells you cast by X, where X is the amount of life you've lost this turn.

Crackle with Power is an X spell that deals five times X damage to each of up to X targets.

The synergy is obvious. Most of the time, a Crackle with Power that is sufficiently charged can instantly win you the game, and, provided you lose enough life to make it worth your while, Rowan can give the spell the power it needs.

Will and Rowan's conflict in Wilds of Eldraine come down to their views on power: both its meaning and the justification of its use. Will's power, at least in Rowan's perspective, is almost entirely ephemeral. He holds the crown — the position of High King — but to Rowan, this power isn't anything real. He hopes to be the figurehead: a king in name who brings together the divided world in a time of strife.

(Quotes below from Wilds of Eldraine Chapter 1 by K. Arsenault Rivera)

"The Realm needs a High King; I did what I had to do... We have to be careful about the impression we're making. People want to be united, and I want to unite them."

Rowan doesn't think he can do it. Rowan believes that the only form of power that people will respect is action; she sees Will's focus on unity as inaction.

"Let them be afraid. I doubt any of them will be raiding the countryside any time soon with the beating we gave them. I'd rather have a thousand brigands living in fear of me than a dozen farmers living in fear of brigands... "Our parents wouldn't ignore a curse that's spreading through the kingdom. Or is 'unity' going to solve the Wicked Slumber, too? And before you forget, our parents earned their titles. You just decided to call yourself High King because you thought it suited you."

She knows she has power — real power — and is frustrated that Will won't let her use it to address the problems at hand.

Rowan's intentions are good — or at least they adhere to a morality. She wants to prevent people, especially Will, from suffering, wants to end the Wicked Slumber, wants Eldraine to be at peace, but doesn't think that any of this can happen if she is unable to utilize her full power. She feels the incessant need to take action, to demonstrate power, to invoke fear and hurt to attain the good that she seeks.

Crackle with Power demonstrates the pinnacle of this philosophy in Rowan's experience. It represents an action she took on impulse, pushing herself through fear and pain, yet still fueled by her own righteousness.

(Quotes below from Strixhaven Chapter 5 by Adana Washington)

Rowan felt a cold anger rising from somewhere inside her—rage, overwhelming the fear and the pain. She couldn't win, but she could hurt the one who did this... The Snarl hung in the air, still brilliant, even in crimson. Still rippling with power. Rowan took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached out.

And when she reached into The Snarl, took its power with the goal of bringing punishment upon those that would cause her and her brother harm, it was incredible.

She felt the power rushing through her, power like she had never dreamed. It felt, in that moment, that she could do anything; mountains would crumble before her, cities burn, oceans boil. She hardly noticed as her feet left the ground, wind swirling as if the air itself feared her. And it should, thought Rowan. Everything should.

This moment may not be the beginning of this pattern of thought for Rowan but it is a very pronounced one. She seized power when it was available, and took action when it was most needed, and the result was that she got exactly what she wanted. It's no wonder that after that she would hope to do it again.

And so Rowan leaves Will behind to go on her own journey: an angry, impulsive journey that sees her tempted to become the thing she swore she would destroy, only for the hope that she could once again use her power. For the greater good. At any cos.

Crackle with Power sees Rowan acting impulsively, with cruelty, with anger, to do something that she feels is right. In its mechanics, Rowan, Scion of War sees this moment and says "this is what I need to do, and I will pay anything to make sure I can do it."

[kairiscorner]

felt inspired by laufey's songs (might do a series on these if they're any good)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

when you can't keep your promise

summary: he fills his lonely nights with a magnum bottle of some wine whose name he can't even pronounce right, with a whole pack of marlboro cigarettes he finishes in a few hours; and he ends every night with you as his final thought before he's out cold and has to live another day tomorrow. another day without you. and it kills him every day when he realizes he's forgetting what you feel like, what you sound like, what warmth you have that's like none other when you sleep together.

word count: 1,309

click, click, click.

he couldn't stop himself from playing with the lighter's mechanism, the cap was too much fun to not flick around with; though he had every chance to ignite a small flame, keep his finger down on the button and watch as the gas spews out of the lighter and prolongs the flame's life, and maybe... do a few worse things than light a cigarette in this small motel room he got. the floor was carpeted, it was a red velvet shade that became a dark cherrywood as the burgundy wine he bought from a local bodega spilled onto the carpeted floors; staining it ceaselessly as the half-empty magnum bottle he bought for himself lay on its side as its contents poured out, pooling onto the floor and creating a growing puddle that multiplied in size as the bottle was emptied of all that it had. he felt over his left hand, his scarred and scratched at hand that endured many sufferings, too much chaos, and... moments of affection that were too fleeting for him to even recollect the feeling of being in those moments. he ran over his knuckles, which were reddened and swollen, what with having decorated the bland, olive green walls of the room with a brand new spanking hole in it that exposed the plain concrete as the dried paint was punched off. he took in a brief, sharp breath as he felt over them; but nothing could ever replicate their touch, no matter how much he ran his fingers over his knuckles, you still were never there.

you couldn't be.

you could never be.

i made a promise to distance myself.

"so..." you uttered in a monotonous voice, your eyes unmoving from the papers that lay strewn in front of you on the coffee table. you sat with your hands on your lap, your lips thinned as you pursed your lips inward; trying to conceal the quiver in your lips, which would give away the sheer weakness you fell victim to when he came home and gave way to the very thing you feared. that he'd divorce you. he'd choose his responsibility as spider man over you, he'd choose the safety of the city, of the world--of the universe--over you.

it's always everything over you, because without everything... where would you be?

"what do you plan to do now?" you asked with a slight crack in your voice, trying to hide the shudder crawling up out of your throat, to conceal the shakiness in your tone. you tried your hardest to remain strong and fortified, even if deep inside, you wanted to cry into the pillows of your couch, scream at him, curse at him for wasting all your efforts into loving him; but then cursing at yourself for knowing you didn't need to put any effort into loving him.

you loved him so much you'd give him your whole life, and you'd do it again and again and again, in every universe.

took a flight, through aurora skies.

peter didn't look your way when he answered, he stared off into a corner in the room, as if the answer to all this confusion, melancholy, and suffering that he's put you through makes any sense. as if the sense of this whole situation was right here, in the living room, but just... doesn't.

"i'll be... i'll be living with aunt may again." he responded in a raspy voice, a sign he'd been smoking again, and in more intense intervals. he scratched his forehead lightly, and as you looked up at him--in search of a meaningful response to a question you had that was on top of a mountain of other questions--you noticed the white of his eyes were tinted red. they were nearly bloodshot, and the bottom of his eyelids were dark, with circles accentuating their roundness; peter hadn't slept a wink last night, and of course, he didn't for the past few days, but you didn't need to know that. you nodded, not exactly in agreement, what was there to agree about? you certainly weren't happy about all this, you weren't the least bit happy when he came over to collect his things and hand back the rest of the house you two bought together back to you. it all just...

"it's surreal."

peter glances over at you with his reddened eyes, seeing how puffed up and wet yours look. your nose was twitching, you looked as if you were about to sob a whole flood of your tears until your head ached again, but you didn't want to give peter that satisfaction. like hell you'd cry for him. you took in a shaky breath as you continued. "last year, you went on and on about filling our house with happy memories. building this house from scratch like we did, getting a dog after building the doghouse that's now good for firewood--filling our days with laughter and happiness with two kids of our own..." you went on, not feeling the trickling of a tear from the sob you were trying your damn hardest to choke back. peter sighed as you reminded him of that delusional vision you two shared, those dreams you both worked hard to make a reality, only to have the only reality you two live come crumbling down on both of you. "it is." he replied as he took off his glasses, tears welling up in his eyes that he blinked away. he placed his glasses back on and lightly shook his head as he headed for the door.

honestly, i didn't think about how we didn't say goodbye.

"but those were all delusions of grandeur."

"...i hope you're happy, peter."

and that was the last thing he could remember from this afternoon. they were all lies.

he wasn't staying with aunt may, he was at a dingy motel in who knows where. he was here, wasting his lungs away at his third cigarette box, and wasting thirty dollars worth of that red grape wine whose flavor he abhorred. it tasted salty, actually.

his tears made it all the more unbearable to drink when they mingled together, when he finally let his tears roll down his cheeks and coat his lips.

just see you very soon.

it hurts to be something.

he choked on the burning tobacco that coated his lungs, his breath was getting more and more ragged. he had never smoked this much in his life, not even when uncle benjamin passed. you were his world, his universe--his everything--and then, you were gone.

the worst part was that it was of his own doing.

he didn't want to vandalize this place any more than he already has, the lovely hole he planted would be a constant reminder to him for as long as he decided to mope here and sulk about his regrettable decision that he let go of you. and had he lived a life where he didn't need to let go of all the things nearest and dearest to his heart, he'd've stayed with you forever. he'd've held you forever, kissed you all over forever, never leave a single patch of your body undiscovered and unloved.

"i'd spend eternity with you. if i just wasn't... if things just... just weren't..."

he choked out those unfinished thoughts as he threw himself on the bed, an ache permeating in his chest as he felt the downpour of sobs come raining down on the sheets. he cried, screamed, and wept into those sheets--as though the sheets were the only ones who could ever comprehend his sorrow, could provide him some ease, some comfort, past his horrible, horrible decision of letting you go to protect you.

you once made him feel like he had everything.

you were his everything. and now,

it's worse to be nothing without you.

a/n: tbh this felt kinda rushed, so i'm sorry if it also feels that way for you TT but i hoped y'all enjoyed this, maybe while crying :' ))

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy @fictarian

[crossedsabers10s]

@splatooshy RIP shower scene, you shall be missed dearly

It ain’t done, but I do have the bones of some stuff:

I keep my heart under the floorboards (in the dark, far away from yours)

Amnesia trope. Damon thinks it’s sometime before canon starts—pre meeting Elena. Technically set during S5-6 but timelines meh

“Maybe we should untie him,” the girl with Katherine’s face says.

Who is not Katherine.

She had been very adamant about that one.

Despite looking just like her, knowing Damon’s name, and being a vampire.

Damon does his best to smile benignly at her from where he is chained to a chair in the middle of the Boarding House den. The rest of the furniture had been cleared back and away, leaving him the main attraction.

He’d woken up here, restrained and surrounded by strangers and slightly more familiar strangers.

There’s Not-Katherine—who smiles back at him, but it’s strained around the edges—orbiting around the room, around Damon at its center, but she never comes too close. Right now, she’s hovering next to one of the other girls.

The one Not-Katherine is standing next to is blonde. Baby faced with big blue eyes, she looks to be around Stefan’s age. She also, Damon knows just from her expression whenever she looks his way, hates his guts.

For some reason. That he can’t remember.

There’s another girl, one who looks just slightly older than the other two, who had been the one to pronounce him cursed upon entering the room and getting a good look at his aura or vibes or whatever it is that witches use to determine such things. She is both tiny and cute and gives him the impression that she is both capable and fully prepared to set him on fire.

His brother—one of those oh-so-familiar strangers—frowns Damon’s way when he sees him smiling at Not-Katherine. Probably (correctly) divining that he wants out of these chains and isn’t above seducing someone to do it. His hair is different from when Damon had last seen him, but that displeased twist of the lips is just the same.

The man lounging in the corner—blond and settled into his skin in a way that means old vampire, beware—is as unfamiliar as the witch and the blonde. Something about him and his bored amusement at the situation puts Damon’s teeth on edge.

[Tries to act innocent/uneasy to win sympathy. They all know him way better than he realizes. It doesn’t work.]

Plan A foiled, he settles in to people watch.

Elena-Who-Not-Katherine and Stefan are standing intimate-friend-or-more close to each other, speaking in hushed voices about a bunch of names Damon doesn’t recognize. Them being so up close and obviously cozy makes him want to frown. Or pry them apart with a crowbar. She may not be Katherine, but she looks exactly the same, and the scene is bringing back memories he’d rather forget.

Bonnie is trailing one finger over the pages of what Damon would put good money on being a grimoire.

That’s when Enzo walks in.

He glances Damon’s way, raises an eyebrow, then deposits the cloth-wrapped parcel he’d been carrying onto a side table beside the witch. He sets a steaming beverage down next to it.

Oh, Damon thinks, realizing something, watching Bonnie thank him before going back to her book.

He’s dreaming.

That’s it.

That explains everything.

Kind of a strange dream, but whatever. He’s had stranger.

He frowns down at the chains, trying not to wonder what Freud would make of his subconscious deciding on this.

“Why is Damon in chains?” a voice more familiar than the face it belongs to asks.

Damon would like an answer to that one too, but doesn’t want to soul-search to get it. He’d need a compass and maybe a map.

“Magic retrograde amnesia,” Caroline explains airly.

“Right,” Enzo’s voice says. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be? But the chains?”

[Exposition on how they ended up with Damon cursed. Damon, believing himself to be asleep, starts being more blatant in his escape attempts. He begins to injure his wrists trying to break the cuffs, rationalizing away the pain and blood as it being a realistic dream. He’s also beginning to dissociate, and the pain takes longer to register than the scent of blood mingling with Bonnie’s coffee.]

“If I unlock this,” he says, reaching for the chains like him unlocking them is a forgone conclusion, but is curious as to the answer anyway, “what will you do?”

This is, of course, where Damon promises not to harm a single hair on any of their heads. He’s going to school his face into—not earnestness, as they’d never believe that from him—but stoic agreement and swear to behave. It’s in his best interests to do so.

If this was a real situation and not a product of his fucked up brain, he might have.

“I don’t know,” he says, honesty raw as his wrists.

Enzo unlocks the chains.

[Damon stands up—except his body language is off. Enough so that the others notice. Moving too fast, blurring between motions and then being too-still.]

Staring Not-Enzo (It Can’t Be Enzo, Enzo is Dead, Damon Killed Him) dead (ha) in the eye, he bends his right index finger back until it’s pointing in the wrong direction.

He barely notices when half the room recoils at the sound.

“What was that for?” Enzo’s ghost asks him, unflinching.

Damon frowns at him, then down at his hand. He sharply twists the bone back into alignment.

He looks around the room, taking in an array of wary (Stefan and Bonnie), worried (Elena), and disgusted (Caroline) faces. Klaus is watching him like he’s a boring movie that has just become interesting enough to pay attention to.

The pain from that hadn’t worked either. He’s still dreaming.

“Damon.”

Unable to quite help it, Damon looks at his favorite nightmare. “Yes?”

Dark eyes drop down to where Damon’s finger is healing. He flexes his hand, finding it most of the way there. “Why?”

“I want to wake up,” he explains.

“Not that I don’t like seeing you—not hating me even!” he tacks on, lest he somehow hurt this dream shade’s feelings. He’s sick of hurting Enzo in his dreams. If he can avoid it, he will. “But I want to wake up now. Before the screaming starts.”

Or the smoke.

That’s what he remembers most. Not the fire. Not really. It’s the smoke. Thick in the air, in his throat, his nostrils, his lungs. Bodies beginning to burn and vervain-perfumed failure.

Dream-Enzo keeps his hands in his. It’s warm, bordering on hot, to Damon’s chilled fingers. He half expects the touch to begin to sear any moment now, or for Enzo’s visage to crumble away to ash. “You always do that?” he asks, dark eyes unreadable. Or maybe they are readable, and Damon just doesn’t want to read them. “Hurt yourself to wake up?”

Damon shrugs best he’s able. “If it works….”

Something about that slow nod, the understanding there in those eyes, makes him keep talking.

“Sleepwalking was the worst, but that didn’t last too long.” Only a measly year or two. What’s a year to forever? “Sleeping with people made it better, but I kept waking up to corpses in the beginning. Which, gross. Cleaning up a body first thing in the morning sucked.” When he bothered to clean them up.

The smile doesn’t quite reach those eyes—which are almost spot on, but there’s something different there, something new that doesn’t match his memories all the way; something about that hurts, that he can’t remember Enzo quite right, even while dreaming—but it’s close. “Shave, brush your teeth, hydrochloric acid?”

Damon flexes his fingers, regretting it when the dream takes that as a sign to have Enzo let go and step back. He doesn’t let that distance linger. This is his not-yet-nightmare, he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. He captures Dream Enzo’s hands with his own, reveling in how lifelike this is.

Apparently, the action has surprised his own subconscious, because Dream Enzo blinks a little down at their entwined hands, one eyebrow briefly raising.

Blah blah blah—technically the scene ends with Damon having issues with his switch, fluctuating back and forth between too many emotions and suppressed ones.

I should prob finish it …at some point lol

[nyxe-dragonetti]

Here's my bio, if that's what you're looking for.

First things first.

Name:

Dragonetti, Nyxe

Pronouns:

They/them/theirs

She/her/hers

He/him/his

Skills/Abilities:

Healing

Alchemy

Magic

Multilingual

Cello

Hey. The name's Nyxe (pronounced "Nix"). I'm kinda what they call "nomadic healer" I guess. I'll be stoppin' by here and there once in a while. I'm up for meeting anyone nice if they're up for it. I keep a journal of my travels and stuff, so I got stories to share.

I grew up with my little brother, Galen, for a while. He was my best friend and more, but he died of a disease nobody could cure when I was eight. Roughest time of my life, so I became a healer. If you need any help, let me know. I'll be around.

For anybody who's interested, I take apprentices

Languages:

English

Spanish

French

Vietnamese

Japanese

Latin

Elvish (for fun I guess)

Apprentices:

None (at the moment. Ask me if you're interested)

Training:

Mostly self-taught. Read books, watched other people, whatever.

Friends:

@thebolter1904

@goddess-of-birds

@yeahimdarcy

@ireallyliketacosokay

Girlfriend:

@ishani-khera

Likes:

Tea, especially with milk and a little sugar

Lavender

Cello sonatas

Owls

Fantasy novels

Dislikes:

Bananas

Sesame (I'm allergic)

Cello minuets

Hot pink

Cracky, dry, hard dirt

Blog rules:

No NSFW

Be nice

No racism, homophobia, whatever.

Cursing is allowed to some extent, but don't slur

Just... use your common sense, okay guys?

// This here means "out of character". Yes, this is the mod [ @makuyi13 ] here talking. Hello. As you may or may not know, this is an R.P. blog. Feel free to interact with Nyxe or me! We'd be happy to respond :)

// DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical professional, so don't take it from me (or Nyxe).

// Credit to @cafekitsune for these lovely dividers.

[lacnunga]

No pressure to read it at all but here's a wee drabble about my ocs, specifically Perfidious ruining his own fucking life by telling Eustace what an asshole he's been their entire friendship

"Come in, come in, im glad to see you, Fideous," Byng said excitedly, practically grabbing my arm to pull me into his little room. It was a plain but cosy affair, unlike the stuffy little rooms aboard the Advantage which stank and putrified even with every gun hatch thrown open for air - here, the landlady at at least put pretty enough curtains on the windows and there was only a little built up dust along the edges of the floor. A pair of singlesticks had been thrown carelessly onto the narrow daybed, which was already mountainous with laundry, Roman tomes and octaves of poems and plays. Half the counterpane trailed on the floor and several half-drunk cups of tea gathered on sideboard and sea chest like girls at a party. Byng had thoroughly installed himself here.

My captain turned to me and beamed, his brown eyes glittering as the setting sun washed over him.

"What excellent timing you have; Mrs Battersea will have tea ready any moment now, and you must dine with me and we shall discuss my letter to Napier. Oh, do not look so perturbed," he laughed, having evidently seen some of my agitated state in my eyes, "all things good, I assure you."

Yes, I needed no assurance of it. I knew Byng would write only too enthusiastically of my time in his service, and it was here wherein lay the entirety of my problem. Had I never met this man I would not know myself to be one to dislike inner turmoil, for I don't make a habit of engaging in it. It was Byng who never knew when to leave well enough alone and when to leave an enemy an enemy without towing him into friendship. It had always been my curse to resent him near as much as love him.

"Please, take a seat."

I cast an eye about the room and found no available surface.

"...where, sir?" I jabbed.

"Oh! Well, you may throw down Cicero," Byng said, pronouncing the name with his usual hard 'c', "Lord knows he deserves it! Ha!"

I made a smile at his words, although not understanding the reference and not letting it bother me. He might have pressed Voltaire onto me, and Swift and Gay, but i draw the line at Romans. I took Cicero in my hands and set his papery corpse on a half-unrolled housewife; I had to restrain myself as always from following behind him and tidying up, lest I prove the jabs of my own wifeliness true and lose what has remained of my Machiavellian reputation. Although I suppose Byng had an excuse this time - at the thought, my eyes flickered guiltily to his half-wooden hand. It was clear that despite his period in the naval hospital, my captain was still struggling to change from his sinistral upbringing.

Still, it was not to critique his slovenliness that I had come to his room.

"Sir," I started, seating myself on the little space I had cleared of the footstool, "there was something....something I wanted to discuss."

"Please, you know I will always bend my ear to you, Fid," he said, before peering closer at me, "Why, your face-! Is it awful news?"

"No, I- that is-. Ah!" I did not want to look at his concerned expression. All the words had dried up in my mouth as soon as attempting to speak them; how ridiculous, to waste away the night with harrowed rehearsal only to find myself fish-jawed when it came to the opening performance. Me! He whom trouble followed in consequence of caustic wit, struck suddenly dumb!

And the longer I remained silent, the deeper the furrow between Byng's brows got.

"Is it...money?" He near whispered the last, afraid of offending some invisible etiquette teacher by mentioning finances so crudely.

I shook my head, my auburn hair flying about.

"Then I am at a loss," Byng declared, placing one hand on his hip, the other dangling unnaturally - his new asymmetry made that noxious cauldron of guilt and shame roil in my stomach, "but it cannot be as dreadful as you are putting on. Tell me all about it and we shall have the matter sorted by coffee, my friend."

"I have not been your friend," I blurted, clumsily.

There was a long pause, in which the clatter and shouting outside the boardhouse seemed to swell like a choir to fill it. For a moment I could not fathom how the entirety of my disclose was not obvious to him within those six words, forgetting that they had only consumed my reality by the throes of my own inner repetition. No, that my confession was still a secret was obvious, for instead of outraged, Byng looked only confused, and scratched at his moustache. The fine golden hairs that had escaped his pomade caught the low sun and blazed like beaten gold - my fancy saw him in that moment like the Archangel Michael with myself as always, cast as the devil himself.

"If you are still dwelling on my words about being abandoned on the hospital, I beg you to forget them. They were a bad joke and I ought to have known you would take them to heart. I understand how busy you have been," he said kindly.

I did not want his kindness. I had not wanted it at the beginning of our aquaintance and I did not want it now, when I must expose myself to him entirely. It would have suited me better if he was dismissive or pompous or selfish, but then, had he been any of those things, I would never have found myself in the position I was in.

Maybe it made it easier in the end, as his kindess irritated me and there is nothing better for loosening the tongue than irrational stress.

"We hoped you would die," I snapped, and with those savage words it was as though a damn, long rotten and straining over the years, broke within me and out came spilling a torrent of filthy, diseased water, "You often said our friendship began on the Courland expedition. It is true, I did recommend you for the negotiations to Gainsford, but not because I thought you would do well at it."

When Byng said nothing, I continued, "I don't know if you were even aware of my dislike of you. I hated all things you represented - priviledge, education, connexions. You had the impertience to be friendly and humble and forgiving and there was little I could not find a way to despise about you. Yes, I sent you off to the Governor and greatly you thanked me for that boon afterwards, but with sincerity I had done it with the presumtion that you would not come back."

It hurt to say these things to the man I now loved, but it was necessary. It was necessary - I had repeated as much to my pillow in the dark of the night - for him to know the depths of my depravity before he risked his reputation by recommending me to the Admiral on false understandings.

I was glad that it hurt.

When I risked a glance at him, Byng had gone very still and very pale. His good arm had dropped to his side.

"I see," he said woodenly. To hear his normally bonny voice so expressionless was near as debilitating as the sight of him clutching his mangled hand had been. "I...I suppose there have been queerer starts to friendships. It will be a funny thing to tell people at dinner parties, certainly." His chuckle sounded forced, "but it has been years-"

"That was not the end of it," I interrupted him. I had to dispell him of his good opinion of me, for my own honour as much as his.

"Oh?" Came the faint, reluctant question.

"Yes," I said. There was a heat building in me, like a fever reaching its climax and I believe in the moment it sent me to the very edge of madness, "I resented you your success - we all did, but I the most, for your fortune was my own doing and the praise of one so far my junior in rank but superior in society galled me to the extreme. For my own benefit, I pretended at friendship. I took your affection and betrayed it for years. Had it not been for my own sense of duty towards my superiors - I couldnt imagine where we would be now."

"You cannot be serious," Byng protested, and now he too sounded hot, "you are confused, Fidious. You've saved my life, twice over, three times if you would allow me to count Chatham!"

"My duty, as I said, sir."

"Then-, then you took me into your care when I was attacked," he pointed out triumphantly.

The memory of that winter night and Byng's staggering form bearing me dazedly to the pavement, blood running down his face, shot through my mind. A reminiscent shiver ran down my spine.

"You might have died," I pointed out, determined not to allow him to paint me as any kind of samaritan, "I may have betrayed your good opinion but I would not have allowed any man of woman to just pass in the street."

"You are making this very difficult, you know," Byng said crossly and I felt a familiar pang of satisfaction in making myself disagreeable, "there was no danger of me dying from the attention of the Duchess of Whitby, though. There was no need for your intervention but your rescue of me from matrimony when I asked it of you."

He seemed very assured of his victory there, but the shame threated to swallow me again at the reminder.

"I was glad to 'rescue' you; it was gratifying to me to deprive you of a greater fortune and a title in one fell swoop."

Byng's fine face fell.

"Tell me this is a joke," he said eventually. My words had begun to penetrate his rosy view of the world. I could feel my heart crack in tandem with his.

"I cannot," I replied, my voice wavering like a snotty's.

"I have asked you for counsel, and you have given it. I have told you my fears, and you have reassured me. I asked you to share in my joys, and you did."

"For my own benefit, sir." I swallowed the lump in my throat, "for my own advancement."

"...I introduced you to my sister."

"Yes," i whispered.

The dam had run dry. There were no more words. I had done what i had set out to; to destroy the bridge Byng had built between us over the years. As I watched, I saw the flesh fingers of his hands curl into fists, and his whole body strike up rigid. It was only those wooden fingers that sat slack and I did not miss the irony that in that moment, the only part of my captain's body not set against me was that which he had sacrificed to save my life. It was in that gory, mutilating moment that my love for him had flowered, belatedly, selfishly, only then had my eyes opened. How could I have visited him in recovery knowing, feeling now thoroughly, all those years I had plotted against him or accepted his friendship with ill feeling?

"I had been warned about you," Byng said quietly, face like procelain. "Lieutenants, midshipmen, seamen - even those Buffs you played the tables with; all seemed to have black words to say about you. But I dismissed them. Every one; I even got a little irate at some of them. My own honour felt besmirched that these people would cast aspersions on my closest friend in the world."

Each blow struck me like a sabre. Good. It was good that he make me bleed.

"Sir-" I began, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door and the impertinent entry of a white-capped maid.

She bobbed a curtesy.

"Mrs Battersea says to tell you tea's ready for you, sir - and to say there's enough for two if your friend is staying."

Byng did not take his eyes off of me.

"No. This man was just leaving."

Surely there was an ocean of blood lapping at my knees by now. It was good, and it was right, but like a drowning man taking one last breath before going under, it was instinct that moved my lips without knowing what my next words would be.

"Please-"

"I think, Mr Jones, that you have thoroughly obliterated your right to say 'please' to me, don't you?"

My last breath of air went out. Here were the consequences of my actions - Byng's blithe counternance one of stony betrayal, my commendation to the Admiral no doubt would find itself fuelling the fireplace, the hesitant understanding between myself and Lady Babington crumpling with the news of what I had done to her brother. Obliterated indeed.

"Then I will take my leave," I said. My words seemed to come from very far away to my own ears.

"Good day, sir," Byng dismissed me curtly, turning his back on me, halo fading with the approaching dusk.

"Good day."

And, with the maid looking between us askance, I left.

When later I received a summons from Napier concerning a glowing letter of commendation from his protege, I could never have felt worse.

[seasidewanderers]

intro post time!

times someone at work called us by another name that's neither our chosen name, nor our anagraphical name today [21/08/2024] : back to 1 😔

we've had this blog for... around 3 years now I believe, and never made an intro post, so here it is!

we're the Seaside Wanderers, a plural system. please call us alters or headmates! we go by Aaron, Ae/Ea, or Martin (pick a name, get one free!)

infamous Maternity Blackwood asker

we work in electric power&gas trading! ask us about it! weird ass job that your grandma won't believe it's a real actual job people do

(alter intros are under the cut along with other personal information)

no DNI, feel free to interact. if you'd have to break yours to interact with us, however, isn't the DNI kinda pointless anyway?

our syscourse stance is: anything that'll get you to talk to us like we're both living beings. if you only do that when talking to anti endos, please imagine I'm anti endo. if you only do that when talking to pro endos, please imagine I'm pro endo. if you only do that when talking to endo neutrals, please imagine I'm anti neutral, etc. don't forget what you see on a screen, has someone behind, and first and foremost be kind.

the meaning of our system name is nothing special; we all love playing LOTRO (the Lord Of The Rings Online, a MMORPG based on LOTR. highly recommended!) and one of the titles you can get for your character is "Seaside Wanderer"

our alter tags are as follow for now, we'll update if someone else wants to participate in this blog:

#of rage and black tidings

#and no other choices

#tinker's curse

#vulpine era

#waterfront

CDDs [Complex Dissociative Disorders, a term that encapsulate all traumagenic and dissociative disorders such as DID, OSDD-1, P-DID, and those cases of UDD that cause systemhood] are trauma-based

we support informed and researched self-diagnosis

I love and support YOU 🫵🏻 and I hope you're safe and having a good day, week, month, year and always! YOU deserve to feel good! yes, you! yes, you, person who might not agree with me, and who I might not agree with

personal, non-syscourse info here:

warning: flashing lights for a blinkie under the cut!

adult (turned 24!)

we work full time. we have a job in electric power&gas trading. we may talk shit about stock prices now and then

we're collectively gendervoid, trans/non binary neumasc-leaning, use they/them, it/its, and ae/aer pronouns, and are omni gay and queer

we are also physically disabled and neurodivergent. we have chronic pain and chronic migraines, schizotypal personality disorder, and psychotic depression, so you might see us posting about it now and then

individual introductions for us alters (divided by layer)

this won't be all of us, just those more likely to participate in this blog. due to our system's nature as polyfragmented we wouldn't know all alters, either. updating this a few at a time so we don't get overwhelmed

Jackdaws

James, 18ish, he/him; fictive. annoys Edward for a living. very opinionated. caretaker 🤎

Edward, 23+, he/him; fictive. likes blabbering about his source and sing. pirate enjoyer, annoyed with the fact we don't own a sword yet. role anarchist/does whatever he feels like 🩶

Waterfront

Oscar, 300+, he/they + ae/aer; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign), half-elf, sylph alchemist, vivisectionist/wasteland blighter archetype. I may talk about it sometimes and I like answering questions about it. I like my source a lot. married to Celain. trauma-related role, protector/persecutor 🩵

Celain (pronounced as Colin), immortal, he/they; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign, same as Oscar), elf angel (planetar agathion to be specific), cleric angelfire apostle archetype. I follow Pathfinder's fictional pantheon, but I'm making it work with our religions and spiritualities. married to Oscar. trauma-related role, protector/caretaker 🧡

Finnegan/Tristan, 19, he/they/it; OCtive (homebrew Pathfinder 1e campaign teehee), kitsune, bard fey prankster archetype. I love talking about Pathfinder please ask me about Pathfinder like right now thank youuu. token extrovert. my role is to stay silly in these trying times 💖

[skulduggery-pleasant-bp9]

Dead Men x M/n - Angry kids (Part 5 of Dead Men meet M/n)

WARNING!: Blood x Gore, Violence, Serpine will die, a bit graphic, death, cursing AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

The names are all pronounced this !: Keiran(M/n) – Keer- in or Keer-awn Laoise – Lah-weese Lorcan – Lor-ken

Part 5 – Angry kids

Stephanie was at China’s, worried sick for Skulduggery. Serpine ambushed them and took out the Detective, while he tried to kill her. China knew her name and used it against her, to keep her in the library. She should have called Keiran.

China was out right now and Stephanie broke down the door to her private room, snatching back her phone...if she could...reach out to Keiran ?

She activated her phone and dialed his number quickly. He picked up instantly.

“Keiran Fox.”

“Keiran, help, please. China knows my Given name and she is keeping me hostage in her Library. I called her in a panic. Skulduggery and I got ambushed in Grimwood, by Serpine and his paper pals. He captured Skulduggery too.”, she quickly informed.

It was dead silent on the other end.

“Lorcan...Laoise...get your weapons and magic ready. We are going to beat some Serpine ass and get the Mortal girl out of China’s clutches.”, Keiran said with a dark voice.

“On it !”, Lorcan yelled and Laoise was slightly to hear too.

“Sit tight, think of a name and we will pick you up ! Lorcan will tell the rest of the adults and we will get ready. We have to inform Meritorius and then get Skul as fast as possible !”

“What if he is already dead ?”, Stephanie asked worried.

“Serpine thinks Skulduggery has the key. As long as he doesn’t have it, he won’t kill him.”, Keiran assured.

After that they hung up and Stephanie found her name, ten minutes, before Keiran broke the doors down, to collect her. China wasn’t happy and tried to force Stephanie to stay. But she didn’t listen anymore.

“So you have taken a name. May I know who you are now ?”, she asked the girl.

“Valkyrie. Valkyrie Cain.”

“Fuck you, China Sorrows. If Uncle Skulduggery is dead, because of your ugly ass, I will personally set this place on fire and kill you.”, Keiran growled out darkly.

“Now, now. Don’t be so dramatic.”, she scolded.

“That man has a FAMILY, you BITCH !”, Keiran screamed at her and charged at her with a dagger.

China tried to use her sigils on Keiran, but noticed too late, that they don’t work on him. He cut into her arm and she hissed. He charged again and cut at her right eye, giving her a nice scar, she hissed again in pain. She tried her sigils again, but nothing worked.

“WHORE ! JEALOUS BITCH ! SELFISH BIMBO ! DISGUSTING MURDERER ! TRASH ! WALKING GARBAGE CAN !”, he screamed at her as he charged and charged at her again, giving her cuts.

Keiran stabbed her into her abdomen and she fell on the floor. She was far from dead though.

“KEIRAN ! STOP !”, Lorcan yelled.

Keiran froze in place and looked at Skulduggery’s Son.

“We don’t have time, for that backstabbing Bitch ! Father is more important !”, Lorcan yelled.

He looked at China again.

“Remember well who saved your pathetic life, Bitch. Next time, I won’t be so merciful.”, Keiran spat and left, sheathing his dagger again.

Valkyrie stared at Keiran in shock.

“I hate that traitorous whore so much. Why we let her live, will be a mystery to me...”, Keiran scoffed.

With that they left and hurried to Meritorius. As soon as he heard that Serpine was accused again, he denied it, refused to believe them.

“Listen to me RIGHT now, Meritorius !”, Keiran yelled at him, angered.

Meritorius stared at him.

“You do not talk to your elders like that-“

“I don’t give a flying FUCK what you want ! Skulduggery is MISSING, most possibly DEAD already and you expect ME to be CALM ?! YOU expect someone like SERPINE to keep a TRUCE, for the rest of his LIFE ?! I think your old age made you forget what a person Serpine is ! He is a fucking PSYCHO, STALKER, MURDERER, FACELESS GODS LOVER and PURE EVIL ! He stalked Skulduggery’s Family since the TRUCE started ! He killed behind your back ! He was about to KILL Valkyrie THREE times now, which mind you, YOU wanted to go back to her NORMAL life too ! That could have KILLED her ! He took Skulduggery now and it is HIS life on the line ! Sorry that I told you from the BEGINNING that a TRUCE WON’T cut it ! But now get your old ass up and GIVE ME PERMISSION TO KILL HIM AND GET MY UNCLE BACK ! HE HAS FAMILY FOR FUCKS SAKE !”, Keiran screamed at Meritorius pissed royally off.

Everyone stared at him. No speaking mistake and there was a very dangerous fire in his eyes. Meritorius knew better than to argue with him any further. He will have to give in.

“If you drag us into a war, Keiran, so help me the Ancients.”

“The war started a long time ago, again, already. Your old ass just refused to see it. We are in the MIDDLE of it and YOU still sit here and do nothing but sit in your own Dream World.”, Keiran scoffed.

Then he stormed off and waited for the help, he knew they needed.

The Dead Men, Lorcan, Laoise, Valkyrie and Meritorius looked at him in utter shock and respect. Keiran wasn’t messing around and when he is pissed off and worried sick about his Family, he will get violent. Both, physically and verbally.

After a few minutes two Cleavers arrived. Meritorius arrived with the rest and Keiran scoffed.

“Is that all you will give us ? Damn, you WANT us to die.”, he accused the Grand Mage.

“We have no more, that we can give you.”

“Sure and I am the Easter Bunny. Whatever. Get rid of Sagacious Tome. He is a spy for Serpine. I spotted him a few times enter an alleyway and Serpine left it minutes later. Don’t trust him, no matter what he says. Serpine wants the book of Names and he is looking for something that can kill you. If you die, the book is unprotected.”, Keiran explained annoyed.

They were all in shock, but didn’t question it. They soon enough met Tanith, Valkyrie stated that she met her once already and that she was nice, and so Keiran allowed her to tag along. After everyone, besides Anton and Meritorius, jumped into Ghastly’s Van, did Meritorius talk.

“Your Son really is violent.”, he told the Gist Master.

“I know...”

“But...he is only violent, when he is worried sick about one of you. Be careful with one another. He seems...protective and territorial of you all.”

“We will try our best.”

“Good. Now go rescue Skulduggery.”

Anton nodded and jumped into the Van and Ghastly sped off. It didn’t take them long to arrive there and Keiran wasted no time into getting out and getting ready for kill or be killed mode. Lorcan did the same and Laoise copied her Cousin and Brother.

Tanith sent the Cleavers to distract the Hollow Ones and then they ran for the wall. Hopeless, Ghastly, Lorcan, Laoise, Erskine and Keiran made it over the wall easily. Ghastly helped Anton and Saracen with a small boost of his Magic, while Keiran helped Larrikin over it and Lorcan helped Dexter Vex over the wall. Tanith helped Valkyrie over the wall.

Together they ran into the castle of Serpine’s and started a wild search in a Team of two. Lorcan and Keiran found Skulduggery and he looked in bad shape. That, made Lorcan, go into rage mode.

“Oh, hello you two.”, Skulduggery greeted them weakly.

“What the fuck did that Bastard do to you ?”, Keiran growled out.

“Oh, just some torture with his red hand.”, he chuckled out weakly.

Lorcan and Keiran saw red at that. The others all came rushing in and Ghastly tried to crack open the handcuffs. After that was done, Saracen and Hopeless helped Skulduggery to get up and walk.

The rest of the Team tried to keep the way free, only to realize way too late that three members were missing, after they fled. Laoise, Lorcan and Keiran.

“Wait...where are Lorcan, Laoise and Keiran ?!”, Anton asked in panic, after they were in the Van.

“Shit !”, Ghastly cursed.

“We have to go back.”, Skulduggery said weakly.

“YOU need medical attention ! This is serious and urgent !”, Hopeless scolded.

“The kids !”, Skulduggery protested.

“They know what they are doing. We have to get you to Kenspeckle.”

“They are going after Serpine.”, Valkyrie whispered.

Everyone was silent.

“What ?”, Dexter asked in shock.

“Didn’t you see the murderous glares Keiran and Lorcan had ? They probably told Laoise, because she had the same murderous look later on. They are going after Serpine, to make him pay for what he did to Skulduggery.”, she explained.

“Fuck. We have to go back !”, Saracen yelled.

“If we go back now, Skulduggery will die.”, Larrikin argued back.

“Let’s hope these three are careful. We have to get Skul into medical care and that fast.”, Ghastly said worried.

Anton sat in the car, worried sick for his Son, Nephew and Niece. They were all worried, but Anton was the most worried with Skulduggery. Their children’s lives were on the line.

-With Keiran, Lorcan and Laoise-

They followed Serpine, ready to kill instantly. They had the perfect torture session planned out for Nefarian Serpine. One that he will beg to be over fast.

As soon as Serpine was alone inside a room, Lorcan locked it and Keiran knocked him out cold. Then they dragged Nefarian away from populated areas and into a deep forest. All they did was set up some cameras and then waited for the Bastard to wake up.

-With the Dead Men-

They reached the Cinema and rushed Skulduggery inside.

“Kenspeckle ?! Kenspeckle we need your help, urgently !”, Ghastly called as soon as they were in the soundproof hideout of the Professor’s.

Kenspeckle arrived after a few seconds, with his two assistants, Stentor and Civet. The older man’s eyes widened as he saw Skulduggery.

“What in the ever loving hell happened to him ?”, the Professor asked.

“Serpine.”, Saracen answered.

Kenspeckle’s face turned grim and he instantly led them to an operation room.

“Put him on the bed and then leave. This is urgent.”, he told the Dead Men.

Valkyrie was scared for Skulduggery. What if he won’t make it ? The left the room quickly and stayed seated in the waiting room.

“Shouldn’t we search Lorcan, Laoise and Keiran ?”, Valkyrie asked worried.

“We don’t know where they are right now. It would be like hunting a needle in hay.”, Dexter replied softly.

Anton just sat there, eyes unfocused. He was worried sick.

Ghastly put a hand on the Hotelier’s shoulder, which made him snap out of his thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Anton. I bet they are okay.”, the tailor told him with a soft smile.

“I hope so...”, Anton replied.

Hopeless, Larrikin, Saracen and Valkyrie had a grim face. They hoped so too, for Anton’s and Skulduggery’s sanity’s sake.

-With the kids-

Serpine woke up finally. The children already had sinister grins on their faces and Laoise started the cameras.

“W-what happened...?”, Serpine groaned and rubbed his head.

They agreed that Lorcan can break Serpine’s bones, Laoise can stab him anywhere she wanted and Keiran will cut off the hand.

“Well, well, well~ Awake at last, aren’t we~?”, Keiran purred darkly.

Serpine stiffened up, eyes wide in horror.

He quickly turned around, right hand stretched out to instantly kill, but Keiran saw that coming and grabbed the outstretched arm, then pressed it to the floor, making Serpine hiss in pain.

Before Nefarian could make Keiran let go of his hand, by causing him pain, he screamed in agony already. Keiran’s dagger came crashing down and made quick work of cutting through the bone of Serpine’s red hand, severing it from his body.

Keiran smirked darkly at Serpine, who looked at him with tears in his eyes.

“You disgusting piece of trash, hurt and tormented my Family for long enough. It’s time to end it, don’t you think ? I told you, you lay your hands on my Family, you will regret your existence.”, Keiran said darkly.

Then he got up and picked up the cut off red hand. Just then did Serpine see Lorcan and Laoise, Skulduggery’s children. They didn’t look very happy.

“Oh, we will have fun, won’t we, Serpine~?”, Lorcan asked darkly, a dark promising smile on his face.

Laoise giggled darkly and gave Serpine also a dark, promising look.

“N-now, now ! We can talk about this, kids !”, Serpine tried to convince.

“Yeah, no. You bothered us for way too long. You broke the truce. You HURT my Father. You tried to kill us. You tried to kill Keiran and now you want to TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ?! Fuck you, Nefarian Serpine.”, Lorcan snarled.

With that Lorcan lifted the sledge hammer and let it slam onto Serpine’s right leg, making a satisfying loud cracking sound. Serpine screamed in pain, while Lorcan continued to break his bones to pieces.

“When we are done with you, you wish you were never born.”, Keiran promised Nefarian darkly.

Serpine was scared. He never saw them this pissed off, nor did he ever had to feel this threatened before. He didn’t want to die...

-With the Dead Men-

Kenspeckle came out of the room and everyone looked at him. The older man sighed.

“He will be fine soon. Give him a few hours and he can leave. He had a few cracked bones and open wounds on his torso.”, Kenspeckle informed.

“Oh thank the Ancients ! He will be fine.”, Larrikin said in relief.

“If you would have came two seconds later, one of his ribs could have broken apart and stabbed him in the heart, so good instincts to bring him to me.”

Everyone grew pale at that information.

“Holy shit...”, Ghastly muttered.

Kenspeckle looked around and then was confused.

“Where are the kids ? Usually they are always with you.”, the Professor asked.

“They went after Serpine without our knowledge. But we had to choose. Either Skulduggery or them. They can handle themselves and we would have searched for them, if we knew where they are.”, Dexter explained.

Kenspeckle stared at them then sighed and muttered under his breath.

“I hope for you all, that you won’t regret your choice.”

With that he left them alone.

-With the trio-

Serpine just took his last breath and the three kids pouted.

“Oh, our toy is already broken...”, Lorcan pouted.

“Such a shame.”, Keiran said as he looked at the bleeding messy pile, that used to be Serpine.

“What do we do with the body ?”, Laoise asked.

“Burn it. We give Uncle Skulduggery the hand as present. I bet he wants to burn it himself.”, Keiran answered.

Lorcan turned off the cameras and brought them to Keiran.

“What about the recordings ?”, he asked his Cousin.

“I am making a quick Movie out of it. A great memory for life. We killed a bastard that hurt Family. A warning for future foes too.”

“I like your idea.”

“You always do.”

With that Keiran took the Cameras and started to make a small movie out of it, while Lorcan and Laoise collected wood, to burn the body.

-Time skip with the Dead Men-

Ghastly was pacing around, just like Anton. Anton paced because his worries got to him, about his Son. Ghastly paced because of Skulduggery’s kids, Keiran and impatience. He wanted to see his friend.

Soon enough Kenspeckle came out of Skulduggery’s room and looked at them.

“You can go in now. He is responsive and well rested.”

Instantly they all rushed inside and saw Skulduggery sitting up in his bed, slightly hunched over, but he was sitting. He looked at his friends and Valkyrie and waved, with a smile. It looked stronger and more healthy, than the last one he gave them.

“Hello you all.”, he joked.

Ghastly shook his head and hugged Skulduggery.

“Idiot. How are you feeling ?”, the tailor asked.

Skulduggery hugged him back and huffed out a small laugh.

“I am doing just fine. A bit healing still, but I am feeling ready to beat some ass again.”

“The kids are still not back yet, Skulduggery.”, Anton informed the man, worried sick.

Skulduggery looked at Anton and frowned, worried too.

“Let’s hope they are fine. As much as I would love to chase them down now, I can’t. I am still recovering. Serpine did more damage, than I thought.”, the Detective replied.

Suddenly the doors swung open and everyone looked in the direction of the swung open doors. Their eyes widened as they spotted Lorcan, Laoise and Keiran, covered in blood, but they looked smug and satisfied with themselves.

“Kids ! Are you alright ?!”, Dexter asked in worry.

“We are just fine, Uncle Dex !”, Lorcan replied, energetic and smug.

Keiran and Laoise nodded, big grins on their faces. The Dead Men, Tanith and Valkyrie grew concerned.

“What did you do ?! Why are you covered in blood ?!”, Anton yelled in worry.

“It isn’t ours, Papa.”, Keiran replied still smug.

“Then...whose is it ?”, Ghastly asked.

“Serpine’s.”, the three replied happily.

The Dead Men and two girls stared at the trio in shock.

“WHAT ?!”, they all screamed in shock at the kids, who were still smug.

[sweetdevil-sims]

Get to Know Me - Sims Edition

I was tagged by several people (thank you!), so I decided to get off my ass for once and answer this 😆

What’s your favorite Sims death? I think the mummy's curse one! There's just something about that ominous vignette during the countdown days, only for the sim to dissolve into dust at the end 😩👌

Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Both! Maxis Match for clothing, Alpha for hair.

Do you cheat your sims weight? Nope! I leave them at whatever weight they happen to be, unless they want to learn/practice the Athletic skill. I do cheat to give them more muscle tone if they're super muscular already, though; EA really should've made that slider move along the muscle mass one :/

Do you move objects? Oh yes. I can't imagine decorating without it.

Favorite Mod? Nraas Master Controller my beloved 💖 Can't forget BrntWaffles's lighting mods, they make the game look so beautiful that sometimes I like to just leave it on 2x while watching the sunset over the sea.

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack? The first EP I got was World Adventures and it's still my favorite. The first and only SP I have is HELS, along with bits and pieces from the others.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing? The latter, though this question tripped me up the first time I saw it 😅

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Ohh that's a tough one. Fergus Vane is definitely among my favorites, he was a Johnny Bravo knockoff who eventually got married and I swear that he and his wife could NOT keep their hands off each other 😆 First is him making friends at uni, second is him with his wife.

Have you made a simself? Oh yeah, when I got the game and was trying to figure out how to play. Didn't last long until I started making serial black widows, lol.

Which is your favorite EA hair color? That platinum blonde looks so tacky that I can't help but love it.

Favorite EA hair? I think EA struck gold with: Loose Curl, Dramatic Ponytail, La Dolce Vita Updo, Chorus Girl Curl, Pin-up Pretty, Skinny Dreads, Wavy Bob, Elegance Style, and Wild Fire.

Favorite life stage? Young Adult, because it has the most things available.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Ohh it depends. I go through phases when I'm not interested in gameplay at all, mostly when I set up a savefile for the first time. But now I've been more into gameplay for a few months.

Are you a CC creator? Yeah, mostly with CAS items and minor annoyance fixes.

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad? I have a lot of simblr mutuals where I feel like a nosy person sometimes poking their head above the neighbor's fence to see what's going on 😆

Do you have any sims merch? / A Youtube for sims? Nope.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing? I give my concrete boxes a few more decorative elements now 😅 For once, I stopped playing serial killers (mostly to avoid the NPC pudding spam that ensues), and am making an effort to not micromanage sims as much and to fulfill their wishes instead of ending up with mostly level 10 chefs and gardeners all the time.

Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh man do I have to name someone?? SimplexSims, @aroundthesims, Mutske, @simtanico, @simaddix, @twinsimming, @bioniczombie, @martassimsbookcc, @simbouquet, @plumdrops, @ifcasims, @sim-songs, @deniisu-sims, @bellakenobi, @brntwaffles, @omedapixel, @wanderingsimsfinds, @simlicious, TheSweetSimmer and on and on.

How long have you had Simblr? 2016! Sometimes I can't believe it's been so long.

How do you edit your pictures? I have a few customized Gshade presets, and only convert gameplay screenshots to JPG. For CC previews, I may change the background color and will combine several previews into one image (and I occasionally correct small issues like unsightly clipping due to the poses).

What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite? World Adventures is #1, followed by Seasons and prooobably Supernatural.

Oof we're at the end! Thank you for tagging me and for reading, and I tag ✨anyone who wants to do this✨!