#(this has been weighing on my mind since yesterday.)

[hexsrealityarchived2]

Hello everyone, I wanted to address a post that I had shared without knowing the context and history of the person. In the picture, it contained an image of a Romani woman with her brother and partner. The woman and her brother are both Holocaust survivors and activists. I had unknowingly shared this image without knowing about them. I truly apologize for my actions, I do not EVER consider a Holocaust survivor as an aesthetic! Furthermore, I did not know the history of the people in the photograph, and once I was made aware by the original poster, I immediately deleted the post. I take full responsibility for my actions and I did not mean to share and make an aesthetic out of the picture and I deeply apologize for that. I would also like to extend my apology to the original poster and people from the Roma community who were affected by my actions. I will be more mindful of what I share on my blog and do extensive research before I share a post. Thank you again to the original poster for letting me know and educating me regarding the picture.

Sincerely,

Itzel

[syxnewt]

it fucks me up that animals have no idea what's going on in their insides

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Absolutely adored your last story!

If you don't mind, I'd like to request something too. What about Miguel's reaction to the reader telling him they are with child? 👀 Feel free to write this to your heart's content 🩷

Have a great day! x

I'm not usually a fan of writing pregnant scenes unless and until it is absolutely required. Given Miguel's backstory, it is definitely required haha. So hope I did your ask the due diligence.

Hope you like it 💖💖💖

---

Magic

The digits in the clock changed with a click. It was past midnight and somehow, you couldn’t sleep. You laid still, soaking in the silence and taking comfort in the soft pale light that filtered into the room.

Arguably with what you learnt yesterday, your mind should have been a warzone but instead it was a question paper staring back at you, waiting for you to choose the right answer. You preferred the battle field. You sighed, the warm hand that rested on the peak of your hip trailed up higher making your skin feel smooth as if you were made of butter.

He pulled you closer to him, even in his sleep he craved for you presence. You had been warned about him, to not marry him and yet you heeded to no one’s advice. Instead, only choosing him when any struggle arose. He was always the answer, you couldn’t be without him and with how he nuzzled into your neck seeking comfort, you knew you held some value in his life too.

So if you were going to choose him again, you were having to say goodbye to a different chapter in your life.

“You're still awake aren’t you?”, he asked you, his voice raspy as he stirred from his sleep.

“How could you tell?”, you asked still laying as you were.

“Reading you has always been a part of my reflex.”, he mumbled with pride as he placed a soft kiss on your exposed shoulder.

You let out a quiet chuckle, now turning towards him to hide deeper into the panes of his chest. Skin on skin, there was no telling where his limbs intertwined with yours. The steady rhythm of his heart only made your throat drier.

“A charmer, even in the dead of night.”, you traced your finger over his collarbone to tuck your hand beneath his arm in the end.

“My spells won’t work on anyone else.”, he spoke with his eyes closed, still caught in the in between.

You didn’t intend to wake him, he was tired as is and now you were keeping him up. It stung you, the one thought that had been on your mind since yesterday. You were failing, in being a wife and now, as a mother.

“Because you’re the magic.”, his words dripped like candle wax, beautiful and yet it burned your heart.

“Only you think so.”, you closed your eyes, hoping to fall asleep as his hand rubbed your back, the soft gesture easing you to relax.

“Puedo preguntarte algo?”, his words had a little slur to them as you hummed in response.

“Why did you hide you were sick this morning?”, the calm in his voice made your eyes pop open as you drew in a sharp breath, now with him holding you so close, he could read you like a book.

“There was nothing to hide, Miguel.”, you were digging a deeper hole.

“It wasn’t all too concerning to trouble you.”, you were now wide awake.

“Mi cielo.”, he murmured.

“Come to me with all your troubles, por favor.”, even as he spoke you could tell this had weighed him down.

You were still thinking it through when he prompted you again, “So?”, he was lulling you to give up the truth.

“Why did you then sneak off to the doctor’s?”, now he was awake too. There was a certain bite to his words, crisp with tension and worry.

You didn’t need to see his eyes to tell that he was afraid, you could feel it in the way his muscles stiffened. The thought propped up again. That you were failing, at being his lover and his wife by keeping things from him.

But was your guilt and fear more important than his feelings?

To have put him through the worry of fearing he was going to lose you too.

He was always the answer, he would give up everything for you if you asked and you would do the same. Selfless for eachother that it often put you in a spot to make decisions for him.

But what would he say?

Did you want to put him through the pain of his past by placing a child in his hands?

“Because,”, you looked up at him, to note his gaze was already on you, hooked on your every word.

“I’m carrying your child.”, you let the words slip from your tongue, like you were letting go out the helm of your ship towards what could be the point of it’s destruction.

You were sure, that having lost his daughter once, he wouldn’t want to put himself through that heartbreak again. You watched as he tensed up again, to slowly rise up to rest his back against the head board.

“Oh.”, he said, but you couldn’t tell from his sober tone.

“So nothing life threatening.”, he reached out to caress your cheek.

“No.”, you drew yourself close to him. Ironic, that many believed you lit up his world but he was the fire to your winter. You only found respite in his arms.

“When did you come to know?”, he rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Yesterday.”, you told him, to which he hummed taking in the information.

But his eyes slid to yours, “Why didn’t you tell me?”, the way his eyes looked pale in the dim light, you not confiding in him had hurt him.

“Miguel, you know the life I come from.”, you turned serious, that somehow in his presence you couldn’t continue to lie anymore.

“What if I’m not a good mother? What if instead of building this family, I wreck it instead?”, you asked, your blood turning cold with images of this fear manifesting in your mind.

“And it would result in you being heart broken, over the child you lost.”, you slumped into the cover like a little pebble, giving in to the pull of your panic.

“I love that you think of me always, mi ángel.”, he reached for your waist to pull you up over his torso such that you could meet his eyes.

“But in this circumstance, you’re wrong.”, his index finger smoothed the wrinkles on your forehead as you fought back tears.

“I can see it in your eyes, you will be an excellent mother. Your love is endless and patient, you made me believe in all this again.”, he gestured to the setting around you.

“So don’t let your fears destroy you.”, he wiped the tear as it landed on your cheek.

“As for me.”, he paused, his eyes turning distant for a second.

“As much as I loved Gabriella as my own,”, he ran his fingers through your long hair.

“She wasn’t.”, he pursed his lips.

“This variant of mine had everything I could only dream off. Replacing him meant I only enjoyed a life that was a lie.”, he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Which hurt more when I lost it.”, you could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Nothing was real from the beginning.”, he gave you a lopsided frown, which broke your heart as you felt his pain as your own.

“Almost as close to a figment of my imagination.”, he inhaled deeply to sigh.

“But you.”, the sadness vanished and in it’s place happiness restored his features.

“Our home.”, he looked up at the ceiling.

“It’s all real.”, he smiled, his eyes slowly trailing back to you.

“So no, this wouldn’t hurt me.”, he nudged your nose with his as though this was all you had to remember, to never forget that he was sure of this.

“I’ve wanted this, I want this next chapter for us. It's time.”, he confided in you as he closed his eyes to pull you closer, to rest your forehead on his and when you did, the question paper in you mind vanished. It didn’t have the answer you wanted to choose, because in this second you had both chosen to choose eachother.

“You surprise me in the best ways.”, you told him as you reached up to take his other hand.

Holding onto his fingers, you guided his hand over to place it over your womb and when he opened his eyes, there was a new passion in it. A new fervent resolution that what he had now, he would protect with his life, that his entire life was right here in the confines of his arms.

With that burning desire, he caught your lips with his. It was a sleepy kiss that was my no means perfect as the ones in the morning were but it was surely more important. You and him weren't going to be the only ones in this house anymore.

“Like I said.”, he spoke over your lips.

“You are magic.”, he said as he trailed his fingers over your lower abdomen.

So you kissed him again, softly, your hands scaling the incline of his back to hold his neck.

But he pulled away to catch his breath.

“Vamos, mami. You need to have a good sleep.”, he placed you into the side of your bed with a sudden air of discipline, as he had remembered what time it was.

“I’ll make you fresh lemonade in the morning to combat the sickness and also –

“You need your sleep too, papi.”, you cut him off before he began to panic and pulled his hand over your waist as he chuckled to settle into your covers.

“Bien, bien.”, he calmed down settling into the same lazy rhythm with his hand slung over you that finally made sleep arrive sooner than what you both had expected.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠-𝟎.𝟎-𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃-𝐘𝐚𝐧.𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Header created by @𝓶𝓸𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓮

 TW: MANIPULATION,YANDERE THEMES,Usual yandere tws.

Words:6355 words.

The light stone brightly above the white clouds. Inside the place under the eyes of the angels, You walked up the stairs step by step.

Black wings spread out behind you. Standing out in a crowd of white wings. The angels cast glances at you with hatred and disgust, but you ignored them all. You looked up at the sky-blue angel. Sunday was holding the sacred vessel in his arms with a solemn look on his face. As the messengers of Harmony's xipe...Harmony Angels were the most excellent angels as the incarnations.

"Betraying Harmony is the greatest sin an angel can ever commit. Your soul has been corrupted, By the will of harmony, I will confine your soul in the sacred vessel to cut off your obsession and sanctify you." He grabbed you with his cold hand and led you into the cage where fallen angels were imprisoned. You gazed into his eyes through the cage bars. The burden that had been weighing on your heart. for so long vanished all at once.

You gave him a smile.

"Okay." Bright rays slanted in from outside the place. In a trance, the time you spent with him yesterday in the 'Forbidden place' resurfaced in your mind. The sun was as bright then as it was now. There was a forbidden place in the Harmony realm. It was to punish fallen angels. Aeon forbade pure angels to enter the forbidden place...This also served as a warning for other angels. But..

You quietly hid in a dark corner of the library of the forbidden place, and quickly flipped through the thick to you in your hands.

"Fallen angels, the most fearsome and unforgiveable beings of all. They betrayed the Harmony. As punishment, their pure wings will be corrupted little by little until they turned all dark.." You mumbled the words from the book and felt uneasy as you glanced at the increasing blackness in your wings. Tomorrow you would be attending the regular heavenly realm meeting. At the meeting, Angels would be bathed in the holy light, spread their wings, and pray to the Aeon. And once they spread their wings. The corrupted angels would be discovered. They would be caged to have their souls cleansed. Then they would be banished to the dreamscape.

You scanned the books in the library with mixed feelings-- Before coming here, you tried many ways to make your wings white again. So even though this was a 'forbidden place', It was my last hope. Just as you were lost in thought, A series of footsteps sounded.

"Which little angel dares to trespass into the forbidden place? Don't you know that this is the place where the fallen angels are exiled?"

You were so startled that the book in your hand almost fell off. "I didn't mean to!" You quickly gathered your wings, but then a burst of laughter rang out. A figure emerged from the shadows, revealing a smiling face. Your eyes widened in surprise.

"S-Sunday!? What are you doing here?"

"I followed you here." He then surveyed around curiously. "So, This is the forbidden library. I normally have the family watching me But I finally have the chance to come check it out."

".....Oh..S-Sunday, so.." You peered behind him and lowered your voice.

"They aren't following you here? I'm sure...Someone from the Oak family would..."

"Well...I came here for a reason, so they didn't need to follow me." You mumbled your next words.

"You came here for a reason?" In your puzzled gaze, Sunday shook his head smugly and leaned down to your ear. "I told them I was here to arrest-you-"

"You want to arrest me?" Your eyes widened, Ever since Sunday got promoted to the Leader of the Oak family, You could no longer be together all the time. It was a little lonely, but you could understand-As the youngest leader of a Family in history, He was under as much pressure as the praise he has received. To maintain his authority in front of all angels, he had to treat every angel equally on the surface.

"Don't worry, It's just a few days in the 'dark room' I'll stay with you." He smiled and rubbed your head as if to tell me not to worry, then the emotions in his eyes became complicated. "It....has been a long time since we last saw each other." You were fine before he mentioned it, but now you felt sorry for myself too.

"You are the one who's been cold to me, and I could never find you...Why..?" You looked up and met Sunday's apologetic gaze.

"I'm sorry. I had to figure something out and didn't want to drag you into it. But I've finally figured it out." Sunday's voice was very soft but with an unshakable determination.

The daylight poured through the window into his eyes, making them clear and bright.

"Okay Dove, Now tell me.." The corners of his lips lifted as he leaned closer. "Why did you sneak into the forbidden place?"

"Because.." Your heart skipped a beat. You pulled back slightly to put some distance between you two. You pursed your lips. After a few seconds of silence, you unfolded your wings- In the sunlight, the white wings were glided with a faint golden glow. But on a closer look, It looked like paper stained with ink, haloed with a smear of black. Sunday's eyes widened, which seemed to contain some emotions apart from surprise.

"It's because my wings are corrupted for some reason..." You kept your head low, worried that you would see any disappointment on his face.

"So You snuck in here to look through forbidden books to find out why you've fallen?"

"Yeah."

"You could've asked me.."

"...Huh?" You looked up and saw Sunday looking you with a smile.

"As the leader of the Oak family I'm responsible for fulfilling the will of the harmony and purifying the souls of the fallen angels, So I know a lot."

"But...We aren't even from the same family. You follow the Oak while I follow the Iris family..." But was it really okay for the Light angel to help a fallen angel like this?

"There's no but." Sunday interrupted you as if he understood your concern.

"Besides being a leader...of completely different family. I'm also the angel closest to you in the entire harmony realm. Am I not?" A confident smile appeared on his face, like gentle sunlight that drove away the uneasiness in your heart. When Sunday saw your lips curling up. he also smiled and cleared his throat.

"There are many reasons why angels fall: jealousy, arrogance, greed, laziness.." As you listened, you began to contemplate the reasons for your fall..

"Was it 'laziness'? I mean. We did skip the angel conference together."

"But we didn't stay in bed either! We just ran off to see the lights in the dream realm. I also remember that the lights in the dream realm were different from those in the harmony realm...They are colourful!" The memories came to mind-Sunday and I lying on the clouds, overlooking the lights of the dream realm. That night, the lights were bright in the dream realm, like stars fallen all over the earth. Besides you, the breeze blew up Sunday's fringe, revealing his eyes as dazzling as the lights.

"I remember your cheerful smile back then. And you said it would be nice if we could go to the dream realm and see it up close next time." He shot you a glance and continued after a slight pause.

"Then there is....'greed'? Like taking something that doesn't belong to you and keeping it for yourself." You immediately felt the guilt surging within you.

"Is it that....I've secretly plucked the feathers of a lark?" You explained, somewhat embarrassed. "When I heard you got promoted to Oak family's leader. I wanted to give you something as a gift. The larks have beautiful feathers, so I plucked a few to make you a feather pen. But I fed them a lot of food and apologized after that.."

"I see.." The surprise in Sunday's eyes receded and was replaced with tender emotions. "But I don't think Xipe is that harsh. That can't be the reason."

"Speaking of which, I remember reading a 'sin' in the book just now.."

"Let me guess..'Gluttony..?"

"Gluttony!" Sunday and you spoke in unison and laughed when your eyes locked.

"Hahaha, do you remember how we met? We were stealing the angel berries in the garden."

"Yes I do! Then we ate the whole tree of angel berry!....You didn't give them to Robin tho?"

„˙ʇuɐʇɹodɯı ʇou s,ʇɐɥʇ ǝuoǝɯos ɓuısnɔoɟ doʇS„

Robin...? Who's robin..? You shouldn't focus on these matters Oh dear...Focus on the memories I 'wrote' for you.

"Then we got caught by the patrolling angel and were forbidden from entering garden for a hundred years."

"But, I don't regret it at all." Sunday smiled. "I wouldn't have met you otherwise." A monster later, something seemed to occur to him, he then turned to looked at you.

"Dove, You know what? All these reasons have one thing in common. The root cause of the fall lies in obsession. It's a feeling of being extremely attached to something and longing to possess it. And of course...It can be a person too." Sunday stared at you with an inquisitive gaze.

"When did your wings start turning black?"

"Well...I'm not sure. It had already turned black when I noticed. But my wings itch sometimes, like....whenever I see you or think of you." His eyes widened.

"R-really?" Sunday's ears turned red. and You gave a firm affirmative answer. His lips moved and glitters fell on his distinct eyelashes.

"Actually, I feel the same way." He came closer to you. shrouding you in his shadow. "But I get this feeling whenever you think of angel berry, coloured lights, and the lark feathers too."

"...T-that. I see, you don't feel-" The air stayed still for two seconds. When you turned your gaze at Sunday again. he averted his gaze and cleared his throat with his hand on his lips.

"Anyway, the most urgent thing now is to fin a way to make your wings white again. But this place is too big. We don't know how long it'll take to find an answer, or if it even has what we're looking for." You surveyed the huge library and felt a little anxious.

"So..What should I do? Tomorrow's the regular meeting. Everyone will surely find out about my fall if I spread your wings. Even if my soul can be cleansed through the sacred vessel, I'll still be banished to this place." You stared at Sunday who was deep in thought and didn't want to be separated from him..

"It'll be okay. Trust me, Dove.." Sunday took your hand, as if he knew what you were thinking.."I'll always be with you." You walked out of the library with the breeze brushing leisurely on your faces. The forbidden place was more like a utopia. Green, grass, Lush woods and a gushing spring-It was a pleasant sight everywhere you looked. Your eyes were suddenly drawn to a tall tree.

"Sunday look! Are those Angel berries we ate together on that tree?" The sweet and mild fruity fragrance filled the air, dispelling your anxiety. Sunday also looked over. then his face bloomed into a smile. He spread his wings. those white velvet wings seemed so divine and unapproachable in the sunlight. An unexplained wave of sadness came over you--

Even though no one knew about your fall yet, It felt like you were already living in two different worlds, looking at different sceneries. But you quickly hid this feeling. This corruption had nothing to do with Sunday, after all. He shouldn't be affected by this either.

As you were hesitating. Sunday's face had already come close up, with his drooping eyelashes and gathered wings.

"...What's wrong. Sunday?"

"I just suddenly thought, why don't we go pick fruit like we did when we were kids?" Under the warm, amber sky, you both climbed up to the tree branches. A refreshingly warm breeze rose, carrying the scent of grass and fruit. You picked a angel berry, wiped it on your clothes, and took a bite before handling it to Sunday.

"We finally don't have to eat these in fear like we were before! Sunday stared at the tooth marks on the fruit and smiled softly as if he also recalled our memories of the stealing the angel berries.

"It's still dangerous now. This is a forbidden place, remember?" Instead of taking the fruit from your hand, Sunday held your wrist. His deepened gaze made you stunned for a moment.

"When I was a kid, I always wondered why your father would restrict us from eating such delicious berry. Now it finally makes sense." He surveyed the fruit with emotions you couldn't comprehend.

"Once you taste the first sweet bite, you'll want to take the second and thrid and on and on until it's late at night...And then you can still smell its alluring scent." The wind blew across the small gap between you, bringing his words to your ears. You gazed at Sunday's face outlined by the sun, feeling that something was hidden underneath. yet he only gave you a relaxed smile.

"Perhaps your father is probably teaching angels not to be obsessed with things." Sunday took a bite of the fruit in your hand.

"I heard that in the human world, only people who are really close eat the same fruit like this.."

"Is it because they want to share?" You pondered and continued. "The food, the sky, the sun... Sharing all the good things as we do now?" The warm breeze gently brushed the tip of your nose. You couldn't resist taking a deep breath to fill your lungs with the sweet, intoxicating scent, but then accidently shook the branch. The next second, a pair of hands steadied you, and you lifted your head in Sunday's arms.

"Phew..That was close.." The warm breath was just inches away, and a smile surfaced in Sunday's eyes. "It's not just that." He continued with the conversation. "Not only to share all the good things, but also to share with just the person in front of you." The dragged-out voice sounded slightly alluring. The familiar sensation appeared--

"Sunday, My wings seem to be itching again.." the hand that held you paused for a moment, then something began to ripple in Sunday's eyes. He slowly leaned closer. His scent and warmth. and the sweet, fruity scent in the air, all made your mind go blank. Your heart was thumping, drumming, as loud as the noise of cicadas. For a moment. you forgot that you were in a forbidden place and why you were here. Your heart and sight were filled with him alone--

"What are you two doing?" Sunday and you instantly 'bounced off' each other and looked at the patrolling angel under the tree.

"Why did you trespass here?"

"We just want to eat the fruits here! I promise we haven't done anything unholy!"

"We.." Sunday was about to explain, but suddenly noticed something.

"Hold on...Are you Gallagher..?" Sunday's words promoted you to look closer, and only then did you realize that this angel was one of the jewels from Mikhail...the oldest angel. Gallagher thinks Sunday as his brother while. Sun-

Huh..?

...!!!!!!!!!!!!! Focus on the dream.

"It's you two! Y/n! Sunday!" After a brief exchange of pleasantries, you learned that Gallagher was the manager of the woods. "We just wanted to try the angel berries on the tree...By the way, do you want one? Please just pretend you didn't see us!"

"What are Angel berries?" Gallagher looked a little confused. "Pure angels shouldn't be here. You need to leave now." His voice was indifferent and emotionless.

Sunday and you were both stunned and then exchanged a look with a mixed feelings. After noticing Gallagher's abnormality. You both visited a few more angels in the forbidden place. Time flew by. Before you knew it. It was already late at night, so Sunday and you decided to stay in the forbidden place.

"Does it occur to you that the angels here seem a little strange?" On the hotel bed, You looked at Sunday who was next to you. He nodded.

"Yes, Based on the angels we saw today, they all have the same characteristics...Emotionless, Indifferent, and---Like something has been erased from them." Sunday said thoughtfully like he had got an answer. You remained silent while many questions filled your mind. Would you become like these angels after your soul was cleansed? When you see Sunday....

Would you still be as close to him as now..?

...Would something in your life be erased from you as well..

"Y/n, please be strong for me until he comes...I'm sorry..."

"....Mo-!!!!"

"Darling...What did I say? Focus on this dream."

You looked at the flickering candle at the bedside. A day had passed, yet you still hadn't found a way to turn the wings white again, but you seemed to feel more at ease.

"I can't escape tomorrow." You turned sideways to wrap one arm around Sunday's waist. "But I have gained great memories today. After we're separated remember to sneak in here to see me when you're free." You looked up at Sunday, but for some reason, he pursed his lips and suddenly sat up.

"...Let me go ask the owner if there's an extra room!" You clung to him and asked with puzzlement.

"Why? We used to sleep together all the time!" Although you rarely did so ever since he got promoted to Leader. Of the Oak family..

"Uh..." Sunday's cheeks were slightly red like he had drunk a glass of red wine and the wine colour got reflected on his cheeks. He wanted to say something else, but then met my pitiful eyes.

"..Okay y/n.."

"Great!" You couldn't resist flapping your wings due to the excitement, then you spotted a flash black in the corner of your eye.

"Aaahhhhhhhh!! Sunday, how come my wings have gone even darker?" You turned around and was surprised to find that the smear of black had spread of your wings! Sunday was also shocked, but then corners of his mouth began to curl up. Then he burst into uncontrollable laughter. You couldn't help bit puff up your face and threw the pillow at him.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"...Sorry! I'm not laughing at you. I just understood something." Sunday grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He seemed very happy. After a slight pause, his extremely gentle voice fell into your ear.

"Y/n, will you always remember me?"

"Of course! I will think about you all the time." Although you wondered why he asked, you gave your answer very quickly.

"Good. Don't ever forget me. When you fall into darkness, you must always think of me." He said it word for word, firmly and with all earnestness. In somewhere you couldn't see. Sunday gazed out the window into the darkness, the glow in his eyes was bright...like the stars.

".....Good night Sunday.."

"..Sleep well. I will sleep after some time.." You slept while he patted your head...

Oh y/n, isn't it...nice to have him caring about you..?

....!!!

"...Why aren't you forgetting anything..? It's fine, We just have to take one step by other...I'll be there for you, watching you."

On top of the temple, Sunday raised the sacred vessel in his hand, from which golden light stone. You could feel your soul pulled out of your body and into the sacred vessel. The library, the hotel room- all these moments with Sunday flashed through your mind.

Then, they faded little by little. and Sunday's face gradually drowned in darkness in your heart...Until it completely disappeared.

'Will you always remember me?'

A voice suddenly sounded in your head. It was Sunday's voice.

Sunday....

Like stone thrown into a calm lake, You began to silently repeat his name.

Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,SundaySunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday....Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,SundaySunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday....Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,SundaySunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday....Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,SundaySunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday....Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,SundaySunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday,Sunday....

"....I'm sorry. The trade was at a good price. I gave something away which was valuable to me..in return for Penacony..."

She gave you away for a piece of land. Why would she do that..? Madam, was I such a problem..?

"I'll save you. Trust me..just don't give up.."

Aventurine..? When will you come..? I don't want to forget you. Nor Madam nor..anyone..

I command you to focus on the dream.

!!!

"Y/n." A familiar voice fell on your ears.

"Y/n, look at me.." In the darkness, the images reappeared, and a gentle force held you up. It was as if a golden beam had broken through the darkness. You moved closer to it and melted into the gentle golden light, but the sight before you started you--

Sunday had somehow entered the cage. He was holding the sacred vessel in his arms like holding the most cherished treasure. You reached out but felt a barrier-your soul was still imprisoned in the sacred vessel. In a trance, white divine light tell from above and illuminated the hall of the place. And Sunday's figure blurred again.

You struggled to break free of this power from the Harmony and wanted to touch him.

Whoosh~!

An arrow shot through Sunday's wing, cold and determined.

"As the Leader of Oak family, how dare you disobey the Harmony!?" An angel flew into the air and glared at Sunday.

Sunday ignored him and his gaze remained on the holy light in the place.

"You finally showed up.." He was so calm that he didn't look like he was confronting. Mikhail himself.

"We have been to forbidden place...There's really no way to purify the soul and wash away sin, right? The sacred vessel can only erase the heart's obsession so that the fallen angels become more and more numb each day until hey become empty shells."

"Stop."

The angel couldn't resist interrupting Sunday.

"We are children of harmony...Master Mikhail loves every angel. Everything Master Mikhail does is to keep the place in order. And as a superior angel, you have committed a great sin by not only defending a fallen angel but also blaspheming the Master!"

"Great sin?" Sunday smiled disdainfully.

"Isn't it sinful that you have already committed your ways to the Aeon of Order..? The Leaders should allow Ena until their end. Follow Ena for the power, Follow Xipe for the peace What was all that? I have committed more sins than just this." He gathered his wings, which then unfolded again a moment later--Wings as dark as the night spread behind him, on which sprinkled dazzling golden glow. You stared in shock at what was before you.

Sunday's wings had turned black too..? When did it happen? and why? Could...this be why he suddenly distanced himself from you before?

But your soul was imprisoned in the sacred vessel and you couldn't say a word.

"The truth is my wings had actually turned black long ago. I've been hiding it and covering it up. But now, I don't want to do that way anymore." Sunday looked up, full of determination.

"There is only one true sin-To betray your heart. Eliminating obsessions of the heart can't save angels." He held up the sacred vessel and rested his chin lightly on it with tender emotions in his eyes.

"Ever since I first met this girl...I felt something towards her that I had never felt before. She'd go see the lights in the dream realm with me, make me feather pens from lark feathers, and steal the angel berries from the garden with her. I care about her more than anyone and I. Want her to be mine."

His voice pierced through all the darkness and light, and reached you. "I don't think this feeling is wrong and sinful." Something seemed to be stirring at the bottom of your heart. Numerous memories flashed before your eyes with a warm light.

At that moment. you finally understood the obsession lurking in your heart and the reason for your fall--

You want Sunday to be yours too.

"Stop! Stop! He's manipulating me..."

Another arrow shot at Sunday. An unprecedented force rose from your heart, like looking for an outlet to break out. Then the sound of the sacred vessel breaking resounded in the place.

"Hah! Y/n?"

"It turns out that you are my obsession." The shards reflected your pure black wings, and you passionately threw your arms around Sunday.

A momentary trance flashed in his eyes, like a beam falling into his eyes.

"Y/n!"

"The sacred vessel is broken.." The angels were in an uproar, then arrows came whistling like a meteor shower. With a flap of your wings, monstrous flames sprang up and blazed through the cage that imprisoned you both.

You wrapped your arms around Sunday and soared up in the air to stare at the holy light.

"If this what you mean by 'purification', then I won't obey. I will be with him always, in this place or below."

You tightened your arms, then a red boom shot out from your wrist as you set a boundary to keep all the arrows out. You lowered your head and leaned in to murmur softly in Sunday's ear.

"Just now, when I was in the dark, I kept thinking back to what you said to me- I keep repeating your name again and again, thinking of you." Sunday's eyes flickered as if he had so much to tell you.

But in the end, with the sparks surrounding you, he just took your hand in his and touched it softly against his lips.

"Welcome back, my fallen angel."

He held you close to him while you both fall down into the void.

"There are so many other things I'd like to do with you." Sunday's breath shortened slightly, then his golden eyes were filled with fondness.

".....I want to ...comb your beautiful hair with own hands, I want to welcome the first ray of sunshine with you in my arms, I want to fall asleep together with you every night...Will you let me?"

"Of course! I!!? want- I don't want-

"!!! This dream was perfect...Why won't you...come in my way? It's fine I'll do it again and again."

!!

You waked up..in a cage..

Of course, Madam Jade gave you away for Penacony..You didn't know where you are...But, It's far away..from where they all are...

You groggily open your eyes, feeling the cold, hard surface beneath you and the confining bars around you. Your body aches, a reminder of the struggle you put up before losing consciousness. As your vision clears, you see the curved metal bars of a large bird cage enclosing you. Panic surges through your veins as you try to move, but the confined space restricts your movements.

"Hello?" you call out, your voice hoarse and trembling. "Is anyone there?"

A soft chuckle echoes through the dimly lit room. A figure emerges from the shadows, and you recognize him instantly: Sunday. His eyes gleam with an unsettling mixture of obsession and satisfaction.

"You're awake," Sunday says, his voice dripping with a sickly sweetness. He steps closer, his face illuminated by a single overhead light. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever open those beautiful eyes again."

"Why are you doing this?" you demand, fear and anger warring within you. "Let me out of here!"

Sunday tilts his head, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "I gave you everything you wanted, didn't I? Fulfilled your every desire. And yet, you tried to leave me. I couldn't allow that. We are alone now...only us.."

"I never asked for this," you snap, gripping the bars of the cage. "I never wanted any of this!"

"But you did," Sunday insists, his tone softening as if trying to soothe a wild animal. "You just didn't know it yet. You needed someone to take control, to protect you from the chaos of your own choices. And now, you have me."

Desperation claws at your throat as you search for a way out, but the cage is solid, unyielding. "This isn't protection. It's imprisonment."

Sunday's expression hardens. "You don't understand now, but you will. In time, you'll see that this is for your own good. You belong to me, and I will take care of you."

Tears of frustration and helplessness blur your vision. "Please, let me go," you plead, your voice breaking. "I can't live like this."

He reaches through the bars, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. "Hush now," he whispers. "In time, you'll forget the outside world. You'll forget the pain and the confusion. Here, you can be safe. Here, you can be mine. Angel.."

"Stop calling me Angel..You can't replace him Sunday."

"That damned IPC guy..? Of course not, Darling...I know I am better for you than him."

You swallow hard, steeling yourself against the growing fear. "Aventurine will find me," you say, your voice gaining strength. "He'll save me, and then you'll regret ever doing this."

Sunday's laughter fills the room, cold and mocking. "Aventurine?" he sneers. "You still believe in those fairy tales? You're more delusional than I thought."

You glare at him, gripping the bars tighter. "He's real, and he won't stop until he finds me."

He steps closer, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, my dear, you don't understand. Here, in this cage, you're cut off from everything and everyone. No one will find you."

"You're wrong," you insist, holding on to the hope that Aventurine will come for you. "He always knows when I'm in trouble."

Sunday shakes his head, a patronizing smile on his lips. "It doesn't matter. Soon, you'll forget all about him. The dreams I have in store for you will make sure of that."

Confusion flickers across your face. "Dreams? What are you talking about?"

Sunday's smile widens, a chilling sight. "I've prepared a special regimen for you. Dreams so vivid, so immersive, that you'll lose track of reality. You won't even remember who you are, let alone who Aventurine is."

Your heart pounds in your chest. "You're insane," you whisper, horror creeping into your voice. "You can't do this."

"I already have," Sunday replies calmly. "And soon, you'll see that it's for the best. You'll forget everything outside this cage. You'll forget me, Aventurine, your past life. All of it will fade away, replaced by a new reality. One where you're happy, content, and...mine."

Tears stream down your face as you shake your head, refusing to believe his words. "No, I won't forget. I won't let you win."

Sunday's expression softens, almost pitying. "You don't have a choice, my dear. The dreams will come, and with them, your resistance will crumble."

He steps back, fading into the shadows once more. "Rest now," he says, his voice echoing around you. "More dreams will come."

"Here," Sunday says softly, sliding the tray through an opening in the cage. "You must be hungry."

You glare at him, your resolve firm. "I'm not eating anything you give me."

Sunday's expression darkens, but he quickly masks it with a smile. "I expected as much. No matter, I have ways to ensure you take care of yourself."

He raises his hands, and a strange energy begins to glow around his fingers. "This is for your own good," he murmurs as he weaves an intricate pattern in the air. "Oh Triple Face Soul..."

A wave of dizziness hits you as the spell takes hold. Your mind clouds, and your thoughts feel muddled, as if you're being pulled in three different directions at once. You try to resist, but the compulsion grows stronger, overriding your will.

Sunday's voice breaks through the haze. "Eat," he commands gently, holding a spoonful of soup up to your lips. "Obey me."

Despite your inner struggle, your body moves on its own. Your mouth opens, and Sunday feeds you the spoonful of soup. The warm liquid slides down your throat, and you feel an involuntary shiver of pleasure as the spell's influence deepens.

"That's it," Sunday coos, his voice filled with adoration. "See? It's not so bad."

Tears of frustration and helplessness well up in your eyes as he continues to feed you. Each spoonful is accompanied by his soothing words, his gaze never leaving your face.

"You'll feel better once you've eaten," Sunday says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "And soon, you'll see that this is for the best."

You try to fight the spell, but it's too powerful. The triple faces of the spell seem to encompass your entire being, each one whispering compliance and submission into your ears. Your resistance weakens with every bite, the part of you that remembers Aventurine and freedom growing fainter.

Sunday's eyes gleam with satisfaction as he continues to feed you, his voice a constant murmur of affection. "That's my good girl," he whispers. "So obedient. So perfect."

As the last spoonful of soup is consumed, the spell's grip tightens, making you feel drowsy and compliant. Sunday leans in, his face inches from yours.

"Rest now," he says, his breath warm against your skin. "Dream sweet dreams. Soon, you'll forget all your worries. Soon, you'll forget everything but me."

The world fades to black as you slip into unconsciousness, the spell's whispers echoing in your mind. You vow to hold onto the memory of Aventurine, to fight the spell's influence. But as darkness claims you, a small, desperate part of you wonders if Sunday's words might one day come true.

You awaken groggily, the lingering effects of Sunday's spell still clouding your mind. Every movement feels heavy, but you force yourself to sit up. Determined to resist, you try to stand, your legs wobbling beneath you. You reach out to steady yourself, your hands grasping at thin air.

In a desperate attempt to find support, your hand brushes against something soft and feathery. Sunday's wings. Before you can react, your fingers tangle in the delicate feathers, and with a sudden, unexpected pull, Sunday is yanked forward. He stumbles, his weight collapsing onto you.

You both fall, his body pressing against yours, his head nestled against your neck. For a moment, neither of you move, the proximity and unexpected intimacy creating a tense, awkward silence.

"Get off me," you manage to gasp, your voice strained with a mixture of fear and anger.

Sunday shifts, his breath warm against your skin. "Careful," he murmurs, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You might hurt yourself."

You try to push him away, but your weakened state and his solid build make it difficult. His wings, now partially wrapped around you, feel like a soft yet inescapable cage.

"Let me go," you insist, your voice stronger this time. "I don't want your help."

Sunday lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, a flicker of something—concern, perhaps—crosses his face. But it quickly vanishes, replaced by his usual confident, almost possessive expression.

"You need to rest," he says softly, his wings slowly retracting as he stands, offering you a hand. "You're still recovering."

Ignoring his outstretched hand, you attempt to stand on your own again, only to collapse back onto the floor. Frustration and helplessness boil within you, but you refuse to let him see your tears.

"Stubborn as always," Sunday sighs, crouching beside you. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."

You glare at him, your voice filled with defiance. "I will never submit to you. Aventurine will come for me, and he'll make you pay for this."

Sunday's expression hardens, his patience wearing thin. "Aventurine can't save you here. This place is beyond his reach."

As he reaches for you again, you feel a surge of desperation. With all your remaining strength, you push him away, managing to create some distance between you. He stumbles back, momentarily caught off guard.

"Stay away from me," you warn, your voice trembling but determined.

Sunday straightens, his eyes narrowing. "Very well," he says, a hint of menace creeping into his tone. "If you insist on resisting, I'll have to take stronger measures."

Before you can react, he slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The unexpected embrace is both comforting and suffocating, and you stiffen, unsure of what to do.

"Relax," Sunday whispers into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I won't hurt you. I won't touch you unless you say so."

His words are meant to be reassuring, but they only fuel your anxiety. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens, keeping you in place. "Let me go," you demand, your voice wavering.

"I just want you to understand," he says softly, his tone almost pleading. "I don't want to harm you. I want to protect you, to take care of you. But you have to trust me."

"Trust you?" you hiss, anger flaring within you. "You've trapped me, used spells on me. How can I trust you?"

Sunday's grip loosens slightly, and he sighs. "I know it seems cruel, but everything I've done is for your safety. The world out there is dangerous. Here, with me, you are safe."

"Safe?" you repeat, bitterness dripping from your voice. "This isn't safety. It's imprisonment."

He remains silent for a moment, then rests his chin on your shoulder, his voice softer than before. "I know you can't see it now, but in time, you will. I'll wait until you're ready. I won't force you."

You feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm strangely soothing despite your fear. "Why me?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I love you," Sunday replies simply. "I've loved you from the moment I saw you. And I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Tears well up in your eyes, a mix of frustration, fear, and a small, unwanted flicker of understanding. "Love isn't supposed to feel like this," you whisper.

Sunday's arms tighten around you, his embrace both tender and possessive. "My love is different," he murmurs. "But it's real. And I will wait for you to see that."

You sit there, enveloped in his embrace, your mind a storm of conflicting emotions. The warmth of his body contrasts with the cold reality of your situation, and you can't help but feel a pang of doubt. Can you ever escape this twisted love? Or will you, as Sunday hopes, eventually succumb to it?

"Rest now," Sunday says gently, his voice lulling you into a reluctant calm. "I'll be here, watching over you."

As your exhaustion catches up with you, your eyes grow heavy. Despite everything, you find yourself leaning into his embrace, your body betraying your mind's resistance. As sleep begins to claim you, you hold onto the hope that Aventurine will find you and save you from this nightmare.

"Now..Repeat my name..Listen to me and I'll leave you alone soon."

"Sunday...Sunday..? Okay?"

"Keep doing it..are you feeling sleepy?"

"Sun..day.."

"I'll always be here..I'll always be by your side...It's doesn't matter if it's winter or any other weather in here..But it's dangerous outside. There are so many dangers, you never know what could happen..But don't worry. I'll protect you. As long I live as long as you live, and as long as we're here.

"We will always be together..my darling.."

"Rest well..Sweet sweet little darling.."

FUNALLYYY MY SECOND WORST FIC

[owlespresso]

dogged pursuit. dr veritas ratio. p3 of ? / part 1, part 2 summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags. suggestive content, reader insert is a bit of a freak, mr dr ratio is getting OBJECTIFIED!

He’s doing it, again. You’re sure he’s not even cognizant of it. The irresistible nature of him, nestled in every curve and bough of his body, perfect and smooth as the statues he painstakingly labors over.

He’s been quieter, today. You get the sense that he feels a little guilty about his tantrum yesterday. It’s already water under the bridge, as far as you’re concerned. He can have a mouth on him because he’s pretty. Because you’re sure there’s some deep-seated inferiority complex entrenched at the root of his behavior.

What you can’t abide by is him sneaking off to go out on his own. You’ve made the rookie mistake of sneaking in a short, afternoon nap, only to wake and find him nowhere within your shared domicile. You’re his body-guard. How are you supposed to guard his body if he doesn’t tell you that he’s going out for a run? 

Watery sunlight filters in through the half-opened blinds. It’s cloudy, today. A pressure weighs heavy in the air, the kind that rolls in before a nasty storm. You’re half-resolved to go out looking for him, even though you know he can well handle himself. Fortunately, he strolls in through the front door before you have to make that call. 

He’s in a t-shirt and shorts that don’t even reach his mid-thigh. They’re too tight for him, fabric hugging his ass, his hips. You let your gaze roll up the length of his calves and thighs, skin covered by a thin sheen of sweat. A bead of it rolls down the side of his face, caresses the sharp angle of his cheekbone. 

“You didn’t tell me you were goin’ for a run,” you grouse at him. He bends down to undo the laces on his white sneakers, and your fingers clench tight into fists. Long, smooth legs. Shiny with perspiration from the run, glimmering underneath that dull sunlight. He leaves his shoes against the wall all neat-like, and then turns to lock the front door. He takes his sweet time in answering you, makes sure you know your concerns are hardly worth his time. Brat.

“You were asleep,” he says. His voice is airy with faux innocence. “I’m not a child. I’ve told you countless times that I do not need an escort—I am an adult—a doctor, mind you, and I can very well take care of myself. The fact that I fended off my assailant on my own should be proof enough of that.”

“I know all that—you’ve been telling me since the day we met. But think of it from my point of view. If anything happens to you while we’re here, anything at all, it’s my head on the line! There’re IPC goons crawling all over this town. What if one of them sees you, without me, thinks I’ve been slacking, and reports me to the higher ups?” you tilt your head to the side. Once again, you’re reminded of how few friends Veritas Ratio has likely ever had—how wanting to educate the universe’s populace doesn’t necessarily equate to his ability to see another person’s perspective. He’s arrogant, yes, but he isn’t devious. He wouldn’t hope to get you in trouble. 

“I…” he says, and then swallows. The conflict plays out across his face. As subtle as it is, you can see it in the way his jaw tightens and his lips purse together. It takes only a few seconds before he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Very well. I… apologize. I failed to see it from your point of view. We may have our… disagreements, but I wouldn’t want to see you harmed.”

“Disagreements? What’re you talking about?” you say, flatly. “I agree with almost everything you say, all the time.”

Another pause. “Yes, you do.” He sounds pained. He runs a hand through his wind-tousled hair as he approaches the table, where a water bottle sits next to a blue and white vase. “About that, you should make more of an effort to form your own opinions, even if I happen to not agree with them.”

“Oh?” you grab his wrist. “Really? You’re the kinda guy who likes being listened to though, aren’t ya?”

“You make me sound like some sort of tyrant,” Veritas scoffs. “Having a social circle populated by individuals with diverse opinions is healthier than being surrounded by mere yes-men,” he says, spitting the word out with no small amount of venom. “That’s how the Genius Society has declined so steeply in the last few decades, only approving those who fit a very specific set of standards. It’s a recipe for stagnation, I tell you, and the blind worship paid to them—”

You half-listen to him. He winds himself up with no prodding from you at all, expression warped with displeasure at the mere thought of his intellectual rivals. You lean over and draw his sweaty hand to your mouth, kissing the back of it. He cuts himself into a series of surprised, and indignant splutters.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” you coo, swiping your tongue over the back of his wrist. The tang of sweat-borne salt nearly makes you shudder. 

He draws his hand back to his side like he’s been stung, and you release him with a coy smile. He cradles it to his chest, pale cheeks flushed with color. And he gets stuck like that, for a few seconds, completely jarred. For all the whining you’ve heard about his temper and supposed long-windedness, all it really takes to strike the mighty doctor silent is a few, choice actions.

“You are a menace,” he glowers, and stomps towards the stairs. The steps groan underneath his weight. You admire the plump curve of his ass, the flex of his thighs with each angry step. 

Evening turns and tosses into deep night. The house is swaddled in deep shadow. You think about the taste as you stare up at the ceiling, remember the way his ears had turned pink in the pale grey light.

A pulse of thunder groans in the distance.

[miokki]

# CHOCOLATES

✰ synopsis: valentine’s day with your secret high school sweetheart

✰ character(s): scaramouche x gn!reader, tartaglia

✰ content warnings: nothing

✰ note: happy late valantine’s day! (i forgot to post it yesterday) also if it seems a little rushed it is bc it is. school!au btw.

if there was anything scaramouche hated more than sweet things, it was the day that seem to be filled with them. valentine’s day always repeats itself for the boy, at least since he started high school that is.

this year appeared to be no different, he could already see the first waiting for him at his locker with a box of chocolates. in past years, scaramouche would’ve tried to refuse gifts but after weighing up his options, he’s found that it’s easier to just accept people's gifts rather than outright refuse. the tactic has been working well as he now has fewer problems and the people appear to be okay after the initial rejection.

even after three valentine's days of countless confessions and an overload of flower petals he still has no clue what to do with all the chocolates. he’s figured out what to do with all the teddy bears and he just keeps flowers at home. yet there’s nothing that comes to mind when he needs to get rid of the leftover chocolate his mother won’t even eat. and as much as he hates chocolate or any kind of sweets for that matter, he hates to see food go to waste.

as of right now, scaramouche is eating by himself while working on something in his homeroom. it’s one of the only places he can find escapism at this moment in time due to his popularity amongst the girls. scara doesn’t get it. he doesn’t get why most of the girls at the high fawn over him, he isn’t anything out of the norm. but what do they know? all they see is some boy that always trails behind that group at school. coincidentally, childe doesn’t get it either, he is just as aloof as any other of the loners at this school. the only difference is that he's conventionally attractive.

“how many do you have so far?” childe asks as he barges into the room

scara lifts his gaze to see the redhead gleaming at him from across the room while walking up to his desk.

“23 girls and one boy,” the boy answered as he looked childe up and down.

“a boy too? damn, i'm jealous, i've only managed four and not a single boy in sight,” the tall one whined as he leaned himself against the desk beside scaramouche’s.

“i can see why there hasn't. you act more interested in mr zhongli than any of your classwork.”

“don't start getting cocky with me. i am the sole reason you can eat in peace.”

scaramouche chuckles, “so what did you end up doing?”

childe watches as scara takes another bite into his sandwich before relaxing back into his chair. he hasn’t been in this good of a mood since his mother came back from her trip with her girlfriend. even before, scara has never been this friendly towards him, not that he minds it of course. he's enjoying the conversation they're sharing. childe just wishes that he could see this side of him more often.

“ah. i didn't do much, i just told your fangirls that you were hanging around the fountain on the south side of the school. i have no idea why you'd hang there but they believed it.”

scara sighs, “i told you before, they're not my fangirls,” the dark-blue-haired boy glared.

“but it's true!” the tall boy exclaimed.

“they squeal when you walk past and when i told them you were near the fountain they fucking ran. i swear if you started selling posters of your face they'd sell them out in an instant. it’s like you’re whole of one direction to them. i wouldn't blame (name) if they ever got jealous.”

despite the last sentence being mumbled, scaramouche heard just enough to freeze. he’s sure he didn’t slip up, well not in any area he is aware of. perhaps you told childe, but you rarely even talk to scara himself during the school day so that isn't an option.

“what? you look like you've seen a ghost. you aren't that hard to figure out scara. your eyes drag when they're close by, you never give anyone that time of day,” the redhead explains.

“anyway,” childe sighs as he gets up from the desk, “hey you wouldn't mind if I take a few boxes from your stash, i wanna give something to tonia, teucer and anthon.”

“all yours.”

“thanks, buddy,” the orange-headed boy smiled as he ruffled scaramouche’s hair.

scaramouche waved him off as he exited the room, which left him in this lone classroom. the boy sighed as he started to settle back down into what he was originally doing. picking back up his pen to start writing until he was interrupted once again.

knock, knock.

looking over for the second time to see you poking your head through the doorway. “childe told me you here by the way.” you beam as you let yourself in. it makes his heart flutter; your smile. it’s sweet, the genuine kind, as opposed to chocolate which needs sugar to mask its bitterness. to him you’re like dark chocolate. the kind that isn’t overly sweet. and though still bitter, that's the part he enjoys most.

“do you want some?” scara offered as he waved the assorted box of chocolates in front of you. “i got them on the way here,” the boy clarified just in case. “sure,” you shortly responded before snatching the box from his grasp. “so you told childe?” you asked as you started to tear the plastic wrapping around the box. “i didn't tell him anything,” he begins as you inspect the packaging of the chocolate. turning over the box you notice the price sticker is still on.

“wait, 10,000 mora?” the boy pauses his explanation to look at you, “kuni, your fangirls are treating you so well. you should go thank them,” you teased as you placed one of them in your mouth. “mmh, I will say, they’re are worth at least half of all that mora, the texture is lovely.”

the upturned corners of scara’s lips are now apparent as he watches you devour most of the chocolate. he’s glad you enjoyed them otherwise he wouldn’t know who else to turn to. in all honesty, scaramouche feels strange, this year valentines aren’t like all those years before. he still is bombarded with tens and tens of gifts however he has someone to go to after school rather than home alone this year. and though he is at peace, he still has one more thing on his mind.

“do my uh— fan.. girls bother you?” the boy blurts out.

you almost spit out your chocolates yet you end up choking on them instead. after calming down you decide to speak, “is that what's been on your mind the entire time? don't tell me. did childe say something that made you think that?”

“n-no.”

quickly, you get up from your seat to wrap your arms around your boyfriend's slim figure, “aw my poor baby, there's no need to worry.” you pout, your body hanging over his shoulders.

“i wasn't worried,” scara denies.

“aww, my prince was worried. there's no nothing to be ashamed of, i'll have you know i have my own set of fangirls, so if you were to be worried i’d hope it would be that instead.” scara only shakes his head in shame before taking the last chocolate from the box. notably faster than you did. “I thought you said you didn't like sweet things.” you questioned, raising him a brow as you waited for a response.

“i don't but this one's dark chocolate.”

do not copy of repost any of my works

@ miokki 2023

[darlingpoppet]

Upon A Lazy Bed — Patrochilles (TSOA)

The Song of Achilles | Achilles/Patroclus | M | 4.7k Words

My first* Patrochilles fic is two years old today! I’m still really proud of this one (everyone’s fic that’s designed to vent all their pent-up TSOA feels is always quite meaningful right?) So I wanted to reshare it here on tumblr <3 Thanks for everything so far, Patrochilles pals, I love talking to you all and creating for this fascinating ship <3 <3

Excerpt:

Achilles is in high spirits.

Throughout the night, he takes each opportunity as we edge past one another in the tent to fondly squeeze my shoulder, or playfully blow in my ear, or place a kiss on my forehead. He eats his dinner of spiced mutton and bread with a smile, complimenting my cooking tonight as particularly delicious. Even the dogs receive extra rubs behind their ears. If Achilles were anyone else, I might have thought there was something untoward about his easy affection and generous compliments, but I have long since outgrown my mistrust of his sincerity.

In truth, I am grateful for the ease in tension. After Phoinix came to relay the events of the first day to us, the enervating haze of suspense amidst our idleness has abated somewhat. Achilles’ plan seems to be working. I am anxious of what may yet still come to pass if his gambit fails, but for now, the cost has not been too great.

He reclines now in our bed, humming sweetly. One hand is behind his head while the other plucks at invisible lyre strings somewhere in the air in front of him. His ankle rests against a drawn-up knee, and his calf muscles flex as his foot bobs in time to the tune he composes.

I am there, too. My head lays against his shoulder while I listen to his voice and play cat’s cradle with a favorite bit of spun wool. My restless hands have been fidgety all day, so it is satisfying to bind them tightly while my fingers weave patterns into the string, and then release them again. The slashes on my wrist which Achilles redressed for me after dinner still ache underneath the fresh bandages, but the pain has dulled since yesterday.

Achilles’ hum is soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. My body tingles pleasantly. I still remember what his voice sounded like when it was yet untouched by the blossoming of his manhood. Sometimes I miss it, but since then it has deepened into a handsome tenor that seems to vibrate at the same frequency as my very core. I love it.

“What is that song?” I ask him.

He pauses for a moment to answer. “The story of Psyche.”

“Ah.”

I understand why it might be on his mind. In the stories, Psyche had betrayed the trust of her husband, the love god, Eros. Full of regret, she faced a series of trials given to her by the goddess Aphrodite, the last of which resulted in her death. Touched by her fidelity, however, Eros had forgiven her, and rewarded her with immortality upon Mount Olympus. A happy ending where love and devotion win the day.

I think back to our argument from the night before. How we had both wounded one another with our treacherous actions. But in the end, we had been able to overcome it.

I have no chance of becoming a god, of course, but I indulge for a moment in the fantasy of saving Achilles from his prophesied fate myself—that somehow my love alone might be enough to make the gods take pity on us and let him live so that he could stay by my side for the rest of our days. That the beauty between us is pure enough to grant him his eternal fame. And then he would have no need of things like reputation and honor in the eyes of the other Greek kings. The both of us, we are enough.

The humming stops again and Achilles is silent, as if weighing something.

“Are you… getting tired?” he asks.

He often inquires this when he is trying to gauge my interest in intimacy, but this time his tone is unusually diffident. Perhaps he is unsure if the past couple of weeks have irreversibly chilled my appetites. Even before our quarrel, we had been fearful to touch one another in the midst of the plague, and too busy and exhausted for it besides. This is probably the first chance we have had since the hardships began.

“I am not,” I say.

“I am not, either.”

I have his full attention now. He plucks the tangle of string from my fingers; I flex a few times to invigorate the blood back into them. He takes one of my hands—the bandaged one—and presses a kiss into my palm. His lips are soft, and achingly gentle. My breath hitches. Achilles, thinking it’s from pain, stops immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I reassure him. “Do not stop.”

He nods, redirecting his affection to my face. Slowly, and ever so tenderly, he plants a kiss at the corner of my mouth. My lips part slightly, hoping to lure him in, but he is not done yet. He leans over to one side to place another gentle kiss at the point where my neck, ear, and jaw meet. I wonder if he can taste my pulse there, I think to myself. The tip of his nose drags against my cheek slightly as he pulls away, jarring loose a few locks of hair that had been tucked behind my ear. I am in a trance now; my eyelids lower, my mouth hangs open. Smiling, he gives one final kiss at the corner of my brow that is light, and yet so fond that I begin to tremble.

Even when he is hardly doing anything at all, he has the ability to leave me breathless.

“Achilles,” I whisper. It is the only thing I can say when there is nothing else that needs to be said.

“Patroclus,” he murmurs in answer. His voice is heavy with desire. I want him to always sound this way when he says my name.

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41398932

(*Technically a Hades Patrochilles ficlet I wrote beat this one to the ao3 publish button, but this one is certainly the first published patrochilles fic I actually started working on so I’m still giving it the title, haha)

[kseung]

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Gloxinias

Requested

Warnings: None.

Words: 930~

It's much more loosely based on Jazz Bar than intended, but it's more of a personal note to me. I drew the gloxinia on the photo 🕺

You being such a nerd sometimes led you to know some very useful information. For example; you knew that the largest padlock in the world weighs 916 pounds, something that had particularly interested Wednesday; you knew pigs did not sweat, therefore creating the need for pigs to use mud to cool off; you also knew that Violacea Purple Gloxinia, scientifically Sinningia Speciosa, meant love at first sight, along with enchantment, respect, and admiration.

That was how you'd describe what you felt for Wednesday when you got to know her more. She liked to be mysterious, but there was only so much she can do with such a perceptive partner. You noticed she liked flowers. Well, one flower. The black dahlia.

You made sure to give two flowers every saturday. A black dahlia and another one you picked depending on what you wanted to tell her. Sometimes that you admired her, or cared for her or, maybe even, liked her.

She's not that different from you. You'd say that one of the differences was that she was, by far, more of an edgelord. But that is most of it. For being such a cynical girl, you found out that she's quite sweet.

It'd be your second official date tomorrow, a Saturday. You were happy about it. You knocked on her window, asking for permission to enter. Doors are overrated anyway.

The circle swiveled, opening up an entrance by which Thing waited. He motioned that Wednesday was there, on her typewriter. You nodded and entered behind the oh-so-sweet appendage.

—Buenas noches.

—Hello, mi amor.

You smiled at her nickname. "My love" sounds good, but it's the best when she says it. That way you know she means it. She's not that type of liar.

You had been given a response, so you didn't push it further. You laid down on her bed, thinking about the way youd give her the flowers. You knew you wanted it to be special, whatever special may mean.

—Wednesday.

—...

—Timeframe?

—20 minutes.

—Reasonable.

You wanted to cuddle her. Well, her version of it. It was just laying while holding pinkies. It was sweet. Very sweet of Wednesday.

20 minutes are short when you sleep. Still, you woke up to Wednesday laying down besides you. You turned on your side, looking at her. She returned the favor.

You always found it amazing how her eyes were so expressive, at least to you.

—I feel I love you.

—I like you.

You smiled. She was doing well, especially since she has such aversion to feelings. She held your pinky with hers, making your smile widen. She's such a sweetheart. Little nightmare of yours.

—Do you mind if I stay over tonight?

She just pointed to her closet.

•••••

—Amor, wake up.

Wednesday's voice sounded muffled. It took some minutes before you realized that you were almost smothering while asleep, all because you love holding her. You opened your arms, letting her have the choice. Flight or freeze, in this case.

Or both.

She moved, creating a little distance but still having your arm on her. It was a nice thing to wake up to. Your lovely, lovely, gothic girlfriend.

—Love, I'm up...

You chuckled, looking at her still sleepy. She's the best sight to wake up to. And she could say the same thing.

Usually, she'd already been up. But it was the weekend, she was sleepy, and you were with her. Sleeping late once wouldn't be that bad. She decided to let you sleep for a little longer while she caressed your cheek.

After some mintes, you opened your eyes again.

—I'm hungry. Let's get breakfast.

Finally.

She got up, sitting on her bed before staning up and walking to her closet. You grabbed yesterday's clothes, putting them back on as Wednesday picked her own garments, speedy as to not take long. Your stomach was already complaining.

She said nothing, just looked at you and motioned to the door. You said "yes", and walked up to her. Today was gonna be exciting.

•••••

Breakfast and morning finished, and you returned to her room. Thing made you a favor, having arranged some pillows and two flowers on the balcony. He made you a sign when you entered.

You grabbed her hand, silently dragging her out. The day was pretty cloudy and chilly, very, very beautiful. You sat on one of the pillows, urging Wednesday to follow your steps. She did.

—These are for you.

You gave her both flowers. She gave the littlest of smiles. You celebrated internally. She took them as she always did. She took the Dahlia first, looking at it. By this point, she has a collection of Dahlias you've given her. But the other flower was new.

—Tell me about it.

You did.

—It's a Gloxinia. Sinningia Speciosa, if you will. They mean "love at first sight". This purple one means admiration, among other things. I think it represents what I feel for you quite well, actually.

She looked at you. Feelings made people soft, and she didn't like it, but you always said the same thing to her. "It takes a stronger person to be vulnerable and still function than not to feel." It was admirable, even if she also thought it was stupid at times.

—I appreciate the gesture. Thank you.

You looked at her and smiled. Even if she didn't want to, you knew she loved you every single time she looked at you. She kept the flowers in her hand, carefully handling them so as not to damage them. She may like pain, but not to things you give her.

—Always.

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 6)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

Warnings: Anxiety

After finishing up some tasks at work, you decided to meet with Livvy for lunch. You needed a friend to talk to, someone who understood the whirlwind of emotions you were going through and could give you some advice. Livvy had been your rock, your confidant since you moved here, and you knew she would be there for you now.

As you walked to the café, you couldn’t help but think about Cillian and the conversation he must be having with Siobhan and Max. The heaviness of the situation weighed on you, but you tried to focus on the positive—your baby girl. The ultrasound pictures in your bag were a reminder of the life growing inside you.

Livvy was already seated at a table by the window when you arrived. She looked up and smiled warmly as you approached.

“Hey, mama-to-be,” she greeted, standing up to give you a hug. “How’s this little bean?” She looked at your stomach.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “She’s doing great. We had the ultrasound this morning. It’s a girl!”

Livvy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. Can I see the pictures?” She was so excited for you, already planning a baby shower.

Sitting down, you pulled out the ultrasound photos and handed them to her. She looked at them with awe. “She’s beautiful. I’m so glad everything’s going well with her. But how are you holding up?”

“Oh just fine, I'm really hungry though. Have you ordered yet?” you browsed through the menu, craving something meaty.

“And what about Cillian, have you seen him?” Livvy’s expression turned more serious.

With a sigh, you replied, “He came with me to the ultrasound this morning. He seemed happy but I don’t know. It’s been hard for him, you know? He already has a son and, just yesterday he told his wife about me, and she kicked him out.”

“Oooh, harsh.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said, looking down at the menu, trying to focus on anything but the tumultuous thoughts in your mind.

Livvy reached across the table and squeezed your hand. “I’m sure it’s really tough on him, but it sounds like he wants to be there for you and the baby. That’s a good start.”

You nodded, grateful for her support but still uncertain about the future. “I hope so but the thing is, I know he wants to be a part of her life.” You placed your hand on your bump. “But.. I really want to be with him again. It felt so right when we were together, and I sometimes feel he wants me too but, I don't want to get my hopes up. You know how devastated I was when he broke up with me the first time.”

Livvy leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I understand, Y/N. But sometimes, you have to take a chance, especially when you feel strongly about someone. You can't let fear hold you back from happiness. Maybe it's worth telling him how you feel, now that he's single.”

You chewed on your lip, considering her words. “Yeah, maybe you're right. But I don't want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward between us.”

Livvy chuckled. “Oh, come on. Life's too short for what-ifs. Take your shot, girl. Who knows? Maybe this time, it'll be different.”

You couldn't help but smile at her encouragement. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take that chance and see where it led.

“So, how’s your new job?” You quickly changed the topic, trying not to overthink your situation with Cillian.

As she told you about her week at her new job, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Spending time with Livvy was like hitting the reset button on your worries. Sure, Cillian and everything else was up in the air, but at that moment, you were just two friends catching up over lunch.

After the meal, you and Livvy parted ways, feeling a little lighter and a lot more cheerful than when you had first sat down. With a renewed sense of optimism, you headed back to work, you still had a lot of work to catch up on and wanted to finish up early for an early night.

After finishing up labeling and storing the costumes on set, you head back to your apartment, exhausted, and you decide to make some pasta for dinner, craving the warmth and ease of the familiar dish.

Meanwhile, after packing up some boxes and leaving his old home, Cillian went looking for an apartment to rent. After checking out various places, he finally signed a lease for a spacious property in the heart of the city. It was close to your apartment and on the first floor, with a terrace and a small garden. The apartment was furnished, allowing him to move in right away, though he still had to bring over the rest of his belongings. He could already picture your daughter growing up there, and you, too, were part of that vision, playing with her in the garden.

As he started to unpack, his mind wandered back to you. How beautiful you had looked that morning at the ultrasound, the joy and love shining in your eyes as you saw your baby girl on the screen. He remembered the way you had smiled, the warmth in your touch when you held his hand. Settling into his new home, Cillian felt a mix of emotions. There was relief in finding a place to start fresh, but there was also a lingering sadness from the conversations with Siobhan and Max. He knew he had made the right decision, but it didn't make it any less difficult.

Adding to the stress, he still had to tell his family and Max about this new situation. He hadn’t told Max about the baby right away, worried it would be too much of a shock for him. Cillian wanted to ensure he approached the subject with care, knowing how delicate the situation was. He needed to find the right moment, the right words, to explain everything to his son.

The apartment, though furnished, felt empty without the presence of loved ones. As he unpacked boxes and arranged his belongings, he couldn't help but think about the future. He imagined Max visiting, running around the small garden, and you and your daughter being a part of this new space. He wasn't sure if you were down for that too. Both of you were confused about each other's feelings and what you wanted.

Cillian knew he had to talk to you, to understand where you stood and what you wanted from this relationship. He missed you, missed the connection you had, but he was also aware of the pain and heartbreak that had been part of your past. He didn't want to rush things or pressure you, but he needed to know if there was a chance for a future together.

As he sat down on the couch, Cillian picked up his phone and typed a message to you.

"Hey, just finished unpacking the first few boxes. The place is starting to feel like home. I was thinking... maybe we could talk sometime? I feel like we have a lot to discuss. I hope you're doing well."

He hesitated for a moment before hitting send, unsure of how you would respond. The uncertainty was hard, but he knew that clarity was needed for both of you to move forward.

On your end, as you stirred the pasta sauce and set the table, your phone buzzed with his message. Reading his words, a mix of emotions washed over you. You wanted to see him, to talk and understand where things stood between you two, but there was also a part of you that feared getting hurt again.

Taking a deep breath, you replied, "Hey Cillian, I'd like that. We do need to talk. Maybe we can meet tomorrow? Hope you're settling in okay."

With the message sent, you felt a bit anxious. What did he want to talk about? The uncertainty gnawed at you, mingling with the anticipation of seeing him again. You finished making the pasta and sat down to eat, trying to distract yourself with a movie, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Cillian. You felt so alone at night and craved his loving touch, at least one more night. Livvy’s words came back to you: “Take your shot, girl. Who knows? Maybe this time, it’ll be different.”

The movie played on, but you barely noticed the scenes. Your mind was filled with memories of Cillian—the way he made you laugh, how your bodies melted together, and the overall passionate intensity of your time together. You missed him more than you wanted to admit, but the fear of getting hurt again was a constant shadow in your mind.

You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the movie, but it was no use. The uncertainty of what tomorrow's conversation might bring weighed heavily on you. Eventually, you turned off the TV and decided to go to bed early. There was another long day of shooting ahead, and you needed the rest.

tags:

@thistheivyseason @galactict3a @xsweetcatastrophe @mamawiggers1980

[ventismacchiato]

15 just playing the part — grape lookin ass !

scaramouche x g!n reader

You were weighing the cans of soda in your palms, trying to figure out which one has less so you can give that one to Scaramouche when you hear a sigh from the prop room.

You prepare yourself to tease Scaramouche about his hangover when you peek through the window to see Miss Lisa shaking her head down at Scaramouche.

“I’m disappointed, it’s like you don’t care about the production. You’re the lead Kunikuzushi. I expect you to arrive on time and be ready to rehearse,” Lisa lectures to a quiet Scaramouche.

“I apologize,” Scaramouche mumbles, not bothering to correct her on his name.

“I forgive you, but if it occurs again I’m going to have to reconsider. I wasn’t born yesterday, I can spot a hangover,” she sighs, “Go on back to your dorm today, you’re in no condition to rehearse.”

You went rigid when you realized she was leaving so you awkwardly backed away from the door, doing a turn and pretending you just arrived.

“Hey Y/n,” Lisa greets, pretending she didn’t notice you eavesdropping, “If you need someone to run lines with come and find me.”

You quickly nod as she walks off, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. You try not to stare at her retreating figure.

“You gonna berate me or what?” Scaramouche mutters, meeting you by the door.

“No,” you swallow, not used to seeing Scaramouche lose his composure, “Soda?”

Scaramouche eyes your hand where you were shaking a can of soda, before you realized doing that would make it explode.

“I don’t need your pity,” Scaramouche replies, but he takes the can from you, opening it a bit away from him. You both watch as the soda drips onto the floor.

“I’m not pitying you,” you say, which felt wrong on your tongue. You didn’t find joy in whatever was going on with him, as much as you wanted the lead you didn’t want it because your nemesis fucked up.

Scaramouche scoffs, shoving past you as he takes a gulp of soda before peering at you, “Grape, really?”

You shrug, “It matches your stupid hair.”

Scaramouche spares you another glance.

You clench your soda can, questioning your state of mind because of what you were considering.

“Would you like to…,” you start, averting eye contact with him, “practice lines outside of rehearsal?” you manage to strain out.

You look back at Scaramouche, who held a constipated look on his face before turning to you.

“I’m only agreeing to this because I feel bad for coming hungover,” he slowly says, squinting at you and walking off.

You stand there dumbfounded he actually agreed, processing your accomplishment when he turns back around, giving you a confused look.

“Are you coming or what?” he asks, waving his hand and gesturing you to follow, “Hurry the fuck up I’m not waiting for you.”

You nod quickly and run after him, already regretting the wasted dollar.

just playing the part !

masterlist — prev | next

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

taglist—CLOSED!!: @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @scarasaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend

author’s note: i wish my college experience included kissing my enemy in a college production but it’s just me sitting in my room trying to finish an essay an hour before it’s due </3 lmk ur thoughts pls !!

[a3risbaby]

patience is a virtue [m]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 seventeen : lee seokmin x afab!reader (fem!pronouns)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Seokmin considers himself a patient person, but lately, your busy work schedule has him wondering how long he can hold out. The answer, it seems, is not that long.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 smut (minors dni), fluff, established relationship, a brief moment of embarrassment, pillow humping/male masturbation, video mention, no plot (sorry), leaving everyone involved on a cliffhanger/abrupt ending, cross-posted on ao3 | 1.4k words

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 the way this idea has been weighing on my mind lately...something about seokmin's surprised reactions makes me want to tease him, and y/n got caught in the crossfire

The apartment is empty. That's the first thing you notice as you kick your shoes off at the door. Seokmin is still home, though—his shoes are all accounted for, and his keys still rest in the bowl by the door. You toss your keys in beside his, the metal loud against ceramic.

You trod inside. The living room TV is paused on some Netflix show, probably the one he was talking about yesterday, and in the center of the room, a pile of unfolded laundry sits next to an upturned basket. You pick up a fallen throw pillow and toss it back onto the couch before calling out Seokmin's name hesitantly. He's not in the kitchen either. Your home feels strangely frozen in time.

You rummage around the pantry for a snack, noting that everything's been restocked and put away nicely, and you should really thank Seokmin for taking care of your home while you've been busy. You've done your share of the chores, of course: taking out the trash, sweeping every other day, doing the dishes after he cooks. But with you going all-in on your latest team project, you can confidently say that your boyfriend is the only reason your home still feels like a home and not somewhere you rest your eyes for a few hours a day. Case in point, you open the fridge to find a wrapped sandwich with your name and a heart on a note.

Cute, you smile to yourself and put the sandwich on the kitchen counter for later. Comfortable pajamas come first. In fact, it's all you've been thinking about since you started driving home—comfy clothes, warm food, and a funny show to wrap up your afternoon. Hopefully snuggled into Seokmin's side all the while.

You perk up when you notice the cracked bedroom door.

"Hey, Seok, did you want to watch—"

You can't help the gasp that escapes you, hand flying from the handle to cover your mouth. Seokmin's head whips around to look at you over his shoulder, expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and horror.

"What are you doing home right now?" he screeches, scrambling to cover himself with the blanket. Your eyes fly around the room, taking in the pants on the floor, the boxers pooled around his exposed ankles, and the stack of pillows on the bed. You're still reeling from the after-image of him humping them, lip caught between his teeth. "I thought you were working until dinnertime!"

"I got off work early! I texted you," you say, gesturing to the nightstand where his phone sits charging, "but I guess you were, um, busy?"

You stare at him, and he stares back. The silence is mortifying, but now that the blood rushing in your ears has subsided, you finally hear the faint noise coming from his phone.

"Is that...me?" you ask, gaping at the whimpering gasps that sound familiar. It's the video you recorded for him to use on a business trip last month. While you thought the file was a sexy gift when you sent it, hearing you chase your orgasm in the middle of the afternoon has you wanting to sink into the ground.

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I'm allowed to use it, right?" he squeaks, face still flushed. "I thought I could. I've been using it since I got it. M'sorry if I wasn't supposed to?"

"No, no, you're definitely allowed to. I'm just..." You bark a laugh, fanning yourself with a hand. "Sorry! I don't know why I'm like this right now. We do this sort of thing all the time. It just caught me off guard. Did you want me to leave so you can finish?" you ask, choking on the last word.

"You can, if you want, but if you're free, um," he hesitates, fingers picking at the blanket over his bulge, "it'd be nice if you could stay?"

Right then, the video approaches its end, and you hear yourself cum with a loud, breathy moan that has your ears burning. If you weren't watching Seokmin with rapt attention, you would've missed the shiver that he tries to tamper down.

You swallow, and he traces that action down the column of your throat, gaze flicking down the rest of your body with appreciation. You could drown in his wide-blown pupils.

You find yourself saying, "I'll stay."

.

.

.

Seokmin considers himself very lucky to have such an attractive partner, even if you get shy and swat his arm whenever he reminds himself of it aloud, but these days, with your busy work schedule, it feels like a curse in disguise. He's been patient for a long time now, knowing that you come home exhausted every evening and that you spend all your free time trying to get ahead with work. Just a little more, you murmur to your reflection as you get ready in the morning, and he wishes that he could do something to take the load off your shoulders.

So in addition to taking up more of the housework, he tries not to bother you with his needs, making do with cold showers and his hand and that blessed video...until today.

He spent all morning working himself up, thinking that he'd have the whole afternoon to get himself off, but the universe must be tired of giving him lucky breaks because the day he caves and decides to try something new is the same day you come home early.

Or maybe this is a favorable turn of events?

He cards a hand through his hair. Now that the jump scare is over and his heart is beating properly again, he remembers the predicament he's in, dick still hard. You walk closer and perch on the edge of the bed, keeping your eyes firmly on his face.

"Can you show me what you were doing earlier?" you ask lowly, unbuttoning the top of your dress shirt.

Oh, when you ask like that, he'll do anything you want. As you reach over to silence his phone—no need for the video when the real thing is right here—he settle back over the pillows. Bracing himself on his forearms, he lightly drags his tip across the wet stain he left earlier, hissing at the friction of a few shallow thrusts.

"Look at the mess you're making," you murmur, gaze heavy. His cock is throbbing. "Baby, is that enough for you?"

"No," he whimpers. He folds the pillow over, tightening it with one hand as he thrusts deeper. He draws his lip between his teeth. "S'not tight enough. A-ah, want it to be you."

Seokmin keeps going, eyes focused on the way the pillow swallows him whole, heart stuttering as he thinks of burying himself in you. You're always so receptive to his pace, always so sensitive to his touch. He loves the way your legs would curl around his waist as he pushes into you, your insides fluttering as you adjusted to his size. The pillow is plush, but it's not you.

His thoughts splinter when you sigh, and when he looks up, he can't help the guttural Fuck that tumbles from his mouth. Your shirt is completely unbuttoned, your pencil skirt is bunched around your hips, and your panties—the baby blue lace set, he feels like he's won the lottery—barely conceal anything. He can't believe you wore those in public.

His hands come up to grab your thighs, but you tsk, pushing your toes into his shoulders, and he freezes in place.

"You asked me to stay," you remind him. "You didn't ask to touch."

This is pure torture. Your hold on him is feather light, but he's straining against the ropes of self control.

"Please. Just a taste, baby, I'll make you feel good," he says, words coming out in a rush. He's on the verge of whining, but he doesn't care. He can see your arousal, can smell it heavy in the air, and his cock twitches in anticipation despite the shake of your head. "I promise, I promise it'll feel so good. Let me use my tongue on you."

He tilts his head and rests a cheek on your ankle, trying to implore you with warm eyes. You pretend to consider it, drawing out your thoughtful hum until seconds feel like hours. Then you shimmy out of your underwear, and that's all the confirmation he needs.

[normal-internet-user]

CHERRY BLOSSOM PT 2

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Pt.1<-- -->Pt.3

Summary: Leo decides to get to know you better, acting on advice from Master Splinter.

Warnings: mild swearing

Requested: Kinda?

GN Reader!

.........................................

<LEO'S POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

"Leonardo!"

Master Splinter's voice sounded from behind me. I turned around, the bag of cherries (now half empty, thanks Mikey) from (Name) in my hand.

"Yes, Sensei?"

"Come my son, I wish to speak with you."

I nodded and followed Master Splinter into the dojo. There was a traditional japanese tea table sitting in the center of the room.

I sat down opposite to Splinter, setting the bag of cherries next to the table. Sensei gestured for me to pour out the tea, and I obliged.

Sensei waited untill I had poured our tea to speak, "So where is it you were last night, Leonardo?"

I sighed, "I was out on my solo patrol, like schedualed, when I ran into some purple dragons. I wasn't prepared, and I let my guard down. I fell from the rooftop where we were fighting, onto a civilian balcony. The stranger who's balcony it was, took me in and tended to my wounds while I was unconcious. I woke in their apartment, thanked them and asked them not to speak of this, then left."

Splinter nodded, sipping from his mug, "That explains the band-aids."

I cleared my throat and blushed, "Uh- yeah."

Splinter set down his cup glancing at the bag of cherries, "I assume they also gave you the cherries?"

"Yes, Sensei."

Master Splinter nodded, folding his hands over his lap, while looking at me expectantly.

I froze, looking at Dad confused, "Is something wrong?"

"Something weighs on your mind my son, what is it? My suspicion tells me it is something this human said to you."

I sigh once again, "It's just- the way they talked to me, it's like they weren't scared at all. They even said 'Who'. Not what. I don't know I-"

"You wish to speak to them again." He said, still looking at me calmly.

"Wha- Sensei?"

Master Splinter nodded, as though he was agreeing with himself, "You wish to speak to them again, and I advize that you do."

"I- ok, uh, yes, Sensei. I will. Speak to them I mean."

"Good. but for now, 1 hour in the hashi."

"Yes, Sensei..."

<YOUR POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Thank god for saturday's.

That's what you thought as you layed in your nice warm bed.

It has been about three days since Leonardo had crash landed on your balcony, and you'd seen no sign of him since he'd leapt away over the New York skyline.

You didn't know wether to be dissapointed or releaved to be honest. On the one hand, you would love to get to know him better, he seemed wonderful from the short time you talked.

But on the other hand, you didn't even want to know how crazy dangerous your life would undoubtedly get should you welcome a giant ninja turtle into it.

With a groan, you pulled yourself out of bed. On your way to the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in your vanity mirror.

You looked like you'd been run over by a dump truck. Your hair was messy, and the bags under your eye were more promonant than yesterday.

You grumbled under your breath the whole way to the kitchen. Starting the coffee, you left for your bathroom.

After your shower, you poured your coffee, then sat on your living room sofa. You planned on buying a few new plants at local nursery near you complex.

Once you finished your coffee, you placed the dirty mug by the sink. You grabbed your keys from the basket by the door, then after slipping on your shoes, you began you walk to the plant nursery.

The walk was short, around 15 minutes, and when you arrived, the owner beamed at you through the glass window.

The nursery owner was a rather elderly women, her name was Rhonda. Rhonda is in her 60's, and she's as sweet as an ice cream cone on a summer day.

"Morning, Rhonda." you said, a small smile on your face as Rhonda pulled you in for a hug.

"I was wondering when you'd be back. I was startin' to think you forgot all about me."

You let out a laugh as you madr your way over the the rows of flowers, "No way I could forget about you, Rhonda. Work's just been a pain in the butt lately, so, I figured I'd come over and buy something alittle more in season."

Rhonda smiled at you, "Well the orchids just started to bloom."

"Really? Do you think I could get one?"

"Of course you can, sweety! I set one aside just for you, I know how you are " Rhonda walked behind the counter, resting on the window sill behind it, sat a beautiful blue orchid plant.

It was a dark blue color, with touches of white in the center, the two accenting each other in a perfect meld of color, sitting in a prestein white planter pot.

"It's beautiful!" you said, eyes practically sparkling at the sight infront of you

Rhonda moved it from the window to the counter, "I had a feeling I needed to save this one."

"The blue is quite the coinsidence..." you mumbled, examining the delicate buds of the orchid.

"How so?" Rhonda asked, giving her store a once over, checking to make sure she had no other customers.

"It's- it's nothing, just something that happened the other day that involved the color blue is all."

Rhonda nodded, "Well you'll have to tell me the story sometime."

"We'll see, Rhonda." you said with a smile.

After purchasing the orchid, you ended up spending most of the day talking with Rhonda, with her putting the conversation on hold to deal with the occasional customer.

By the time you left it was well past dark, not the most ideal situation to walk home in, but it wasn't that far of a walk, right? Yeah, you'd be fine.

You hurried down the dark New York streets, passing the occasional person on foot, but most of the traffic was of the road variety.

You clutched the potted orchid closer to your chest, "Just a little further (Name), you'll be fine."

Before you could walk any further though, you felt a chill run down your spine, the feeling of eyes on you striking your senses.

You turned around to look behind you, but saw nothing. You gulped, chalking the feeling up to paranoia, continuing your trek home.

You had just turned the cornor onto your street when someone grabbed the hood of your jacket and yanked you into a nearby alley.

It was all you could do not to drop your newly purchased orchid.

You stubbled back, looking up at your attackers to see members of the Purple Dragons gang.

"All right, hand over your stuff, and no one gets hurt." The largest one said, brandishing a knife in your direction.

You backed up a little more, only to come in contact with a brick wall, great.

"L-listen, I don't h-have anything worth taking so just- just leave me alone!"

The one on the far left chuckled, "We'll decide that, pretty."

They began to walk towards you, chuckling and shoving each other around. You whimpered, then straightened your back, trying to make yourself as intimidating as possible.

"Back off!"

The purple dragons shared glances, sick smirks on their faces. Then continued toward you.

"They said, back. off."

Your eyes widened at the familiar figure standing behind the three. There stood Leonardo, tall, brave, and very angry.

The purple dragons whirled around, "It's one of them turtles!"

"Get 'im!"

The three men charged the large terrapin, (biggest mistake of their lives in your opinion), Leonardo easily dodging their assualt.

He slowly draws his blades, looking directly at the men, "I'm only going to say this once. Leave." his voice was low, and much less friendly than when he spoke to you.

The men share a fear laced glance, then looked back at Leonardo, before booking it out of the alley.

You let out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding. Relaxing your posture from it's tense position.

"Thank you." you mumbled quietly.

"Anytime. Are you ok? did they hurt you at all?" His voice no longer rough and intimidating, but rather soft, and worried.

You looked up at him with your (Color) eyes, shaking your head, "No, they shoved me around a bit, but I'm ok."

Leo nodded his head, "Good, hey do you uh- do you want me to take you home? I know it's not to far from here but-"

"Yes, please."

Leo nodded, picking you up bridal style, with your orchid resting in your lap, one of your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Wha-"

Leo cleared his throat, "It's just- uh, quicker this way, but I can put you down if you'd like?"

You blushed slightly, "N-no it's fine. I just didn't expect you to pick me up like that."

Leo chuckled, muttering a low, "Hang on." before using the fire escape to get to the rooftops.

You gasped and tightened your grip on both your orchid, and Leo, impulsivly hiding your face in his plastron.

Thank god you couldn't see his blush.

Eventually, Leo lowered you onto your balcony, and you thanked him quietly.

"No problem, what kind of vigilante would I be if I left someone to walk alone after they'd just been attacked?"

You giggled, placing your new orchid next to your prized cherry tree, "Not a very good one?"

"Not in the slightest."

The two of you smiled at each other, then Leo seemed to notice something, or someone, on a building across the way, "Hey, uh- listen, (Name). It was great to see you again, but I gotta- gotta go, ok? I'll uh see you around. maybe... uh- just here." he handed you a slip of paper and you looked at it confused, "It's my phone number, call me if you ever need someone to walk you home, yeah?"

You nodded, smiling, "Yeah."

With that Leonardo dissapeared once again into the shadows of the city, leaving you to stare at the slip of paper resting im your palm.

<LEO'S POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

I made my way over to the rooftop I had spotted my brothers on, landing with a thump.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked, annoyed.

"Well, we wanted to see what landed fearless in the hashi, and-" Mikey cut Raph off,

"Leo's got a lover~" Mikey started to make fake kissy noises as Raph shoved him aside, smirking.

"'Call me if you ever need someone to walk you home'." Raph made his voice high-pitched as he mocked me.

I sighed, frustrated, "Ok, one: I do not sound like that. two: they are not my 'lover'-"

"Uh huh, I'm checking my data, and the results say that's 100% bullshit." Donnie smirked at me.

"Let's just- let's just get home you idiots."

"Sure thing lover boy."

This was going to be rough week.

.........................................

Badabing badaboom, Tag list!: @saspas-corner : 💕 @brunnetteiwik : 💕

[hd-junglebook]

Edge of Exile

Part 2

following the episode : We are Grounders part 1

The halls of the Ark were abuzz with whispers of uncertainty as citizens gathered in clusters, exchanging worried glances and murmured speculations. The explosion on the Ark had rattled them to their core, shattering their sense of security and plunging them into a maelstrom of fear and uncertainty.

You made your way through the crowded corridors. You had barely slept since the explosion, haunted by visions of your mother and the countless lost in that fire six years ago.

Jaha stood before the gathered citizens of the Ark, his voice projecting with authority and conviction as he addressed the somber crowd. "Citizens of the Ark," he began, his tone grave yet resolute, "I come before you today with news that weighs heavily upon my heart."

Murmurs of concern rippled through the crowd as Jaha paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces of those gathered before him. "Yesterday's explosion has left our beloved Ark crippled beyond repair," he continued, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "Every simulation has been run. Every system modification has been made. The hard and simple fact is that in 51 hours, life on the Ark will no longer be possible.."

Gasps of disbelief echoed through the chamber as Jaha pressed on, his voice unwavering. " The surviving members of the 100 have proven themselves to be more resilient than we could've ever imagined. Our legacy will go on," he acknowledged, his eyes meeting those of his fellow citizens with empathy. "But in times of adversity, it is our resilience, our unity, that defines us as a people."

"In the coming days, we will be distributing rations to all households," Jaha announced, his voice cutting through the silence that had fallen over the chamber. "Ensuring that no one goes hungry in our time of need.”

…

A cold knot formed in your stomach at the realization of the magnitude of the situation. The Ark, their home for generations, was doomed, and you would be stuck on this dying ship. Denial grips you tightly as you struggle to come to terms with the reality of the situation. With a skeptical shake of your head, you turn away from the crowd, refusing to accept defeat.

You walked through the halls leading to Mecha Station, the familiar hum of machinery providing a small comfort amidst the chaos. Your fingers fly across the controls, your mind consumed with thoughts of how to save the Ark.

Despite your hard work, the solution eludes you, slipping through your grasp like sand. Frustration gnaws at your insides as you realize the enormity of the task before you.

You threw down your tools, kicking the chair away in aggravation.

You huffed out of the room in search of Sinclair. Desperation fueling your steps, you make your way to the control room, hope flickering in your heart like a dying ember.

Your steps faltered as you caught sight of familiar faces huddled in heated conversation near the entrance to the control room. Abby Griffin, the Ark's chief medical officer, stood with her brow furrowed in concentration, beside her, Sinclair animatedly gestured at a holographic display. Pushing aside your trepidation, you approached the group, steps hesitant yet resolute.

"Uncle Marcus," you called out, drawing their attention.

Kane's gaze softened as he turned to face you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y/n," he greeted warmly, reaching out to clasp your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "I'm glad you're here."

You returned his smile, though the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air between them. "What's happening?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Abby stepped forward, her expression grave as she regarded you with empathy. "We've been running simulations for an hour," she explained, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Maybe you can help us think of a way to fix it."

Sinclair nodded in agreement, his expression determined as he turned back to the holographic display. "We're exploring every possible scenario," he explained, his fingers flying across the controls with practiced precision.

Abby placed a comforting hand on Maya's shoulder, her gaze filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "You’re gonna see Clarke again," you said softly.

“Chancellor on deck.”

Jaha walked in, taking his place beside you watching the simulation, his eyes fixed on the simulation that was currently running on the holographic display in front of him. With each passing moment he became more and more aggravated as each simulation failed. You glanced over at him, noting the way his eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched.

“Sinclair, please show us what would happen if we used the thrusters that keep the Ark in orbit to propel us into the atmosphere instead.”

You all shared a confused look, but Sinclair listened, plugging it into the simulation, all eyes on the projection. The simulation showing the ark breaking up into its original 12 stations, almost every single station on the screen exploded.

Sinclair chimed in horrified at what he saw, “95% of the structures would explode on the way down.”

Jaha's eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to Sinclair, a hint of a grin spreading across his face, “You think you're smart enough to pinpoint the 5% that wouldn't?”

Sinclair raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips.

…

The preparations had begun.

Sinclair creating a plan for how the arks descent. The ark's passengers had all gathered around him, their eyes fixed on his face, waiting for him to speak, “Here's how we bring the Ark to the ground,” he began, his voice steady and strong.

“Stage one: Separation from go-sci. once we have separation, all port thrusters will fire and our orbit will begin to degrade,”

He paused for a second, looking at all the faces in front of him before continuing. “Stage 2: Reentry. Reentry will be violent, and it will be very, very hot. Friction will break the Ark back into its original stations.”

You decided to chime in, tell the whole truth to the citizens so they would be aware of what they were agreeing to, you stepped in beside Sinclair, him giving you a look of reassurance before nodding, allowing you to speak.

“Some of the stations... and we can't predict which... will explode,” you stated, pausing once more. “And some of us will be on those stations.” The citizens stood in silence, registering your words.

Kane pulled you back towards him placing a hand on your shoulder. You welcomed the touch. It was a reassuring reminder that you were not alone in this fight.

“Which brings us to stage 3... landing. All starboard thrusters on the surviving stations will fire. Acting as landing rockets, they will slow the impact even further. our target speed for impact with the ground is 70 miles per hour. In all my simulations, anything above that is not survivable.”

…

The day prior…

The walk was quick to your grandmothers room was quick, a few turns and once again you stood outside her room, the door slightly ajar with light shining through the cracks. Approaching it with hesitation, you took a deep breath before gently pushing it open.

Kanes figure was facing away from you, grazing over the books Vera had left on her nightstand that she would never have the chance to finish. His shoulders were slumped in a defeated posture. You could feel the weight of his grief radiating off of him, like a palpable force field.

Kane turned at the sound of your footsteps, his grief-stricken face a testament to the pain he had been carrying since his mother's passing. He had brushed her off in the days leading up to her death, too caught up in his own struggles to truly listen to her.

"Before she passed, I had brushed her off," he whispered, a sad smile spreading across his face. "I wish I could go back and do it all over again, to tell her how much I loved her and how much she meant to me."

As he spoke, the memories of his mother's final days came flooding back to him. The way she had held his hand, her grip tight and determined, even as her body grew weaker. The way she had looked at him, her eyes filled with a deep love and pride that he had never truly appreciated until now.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," he whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. "I wish I could have told you how much I loved you while you were still here."

"She knew, Kane," you said softly. "She knew how much you loved her, and she loved you just the same." He sighed and looked at you, his eyes filled with a deep sadness.

Kane looked at you now, unsure of what to say. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth there, and he knew that your reassurance was right.

"If we make it to the ground, I won't abandon you," Kane said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I loved your mother, and now they’re both gone, I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe."

“What was my mother like Kane?” Your curiosity got the best of you, it had been so long since anyone had spoken of your mother, and now with Vera gone, the only person who could tell you anything was him.

"Your mother," he began, "was a firecracker, always full of energy and life. She was the glue that held the council together.” He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "After your birth, things changed. She and I had a falling out, and it was a bitter one. We never spoke again, and it hurt me deeply. I've always regretted the way things ended between us," Kane's voice trailed off, and he looked away, his eyes distant and unfocused.

"I wish I could tell you the truth," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

…

“Hydro Station is good to go.”

“Mecha Station, good to go.”

“Aero Station, good to go.”

The both of you had rushed to the stations, ready to start life on Earth. The machines hummed to life around you, their bright lights, and glowing consoles a beacon of hope in the darkness., the air was thick with anticipation as the citizens boarded the five stations.

The stations were ready, the machines purring contentedly as they powered up, and the moment of truth had finally arrived.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of history on your shoulders. This was it – the moment when humanity would finally set foot on Earth once more.

“5,4,3,2,1. Separate”     

And then nothing.

The launch had failed.

You groaned out loud, Great. Just great. Now you were stuck in this hellhole even longer. "What now?" You muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. There was chatter over the earpieces, Kane standing from his place beside Abby and heading toward the exit when the machines turned on again, taking the hands of fellow passenger.

The jolt of the station’s rockets firing up once more, knocking Kane to the ground. The ground beneath the room seemed to shake and rumble as the station detached from the Ark with a resounding metallic shudder.

The sound of the rockets filled the space, drowning out all other noise. Abby spoke up from her place beside you, “What's happening?”

"I don't know," Kane replied, his voice shaking with adrenaline. "The station just turned on again.”

Jaha’s voice sounded over the PA system, shocking you out of your stupor. Jaha’s heart raced as he stared at the control panel in front of him. He knew he was right where he needed to be. You could hear him speaking to Abby over the earpiece before the connection was cut off.

You took Abby's hand, she smiled, her eyes lighting up with a warmth.

You were going to earth.

[neteyamb]

ashes to ashes: chapter two

pairing: loak x f!omatikaya reader

summary: as a healer, y/n had taken an oath to treat every patient with their best interests in mind. this hadn’t been a problem, until loak’s petty injuries become a routine. she has to swallow her pride and feign concern, feign kindness, and face the ugly hate that has been brewing between them for years. 

tags: enemies to lovers, best friend kiri, mentions of blood, tension

word count: 1.6k

notes: i literally put one (1) drink into my system and feel the overwhelming urge to write them making out sloppily but i CANT yet. bear with me.

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

billie bossa nova

love when it makes you lose your bearings / it might be more of an obsession / you better lock your phone / and look at me when you're alone / won't take a lot to get you goin' / i'm sorry if it's torture though / that heavy breathin' on the floor / i’m yours, i'm yours 

nova – a star that suddenly increases its light output tremendously and then fades away to its former obscurity

maiya’s eyes were locked on you as you watched loak storm out of the hut, tail swishing wildly behind him. your shoulders were tense, and you stared at his back with a blaze flickering behind your eyes as if you were attempting to burn a hole straight through him. she pursed her lips before giving a resigned sigh. “y/n, dear, a healer must welcome someone in need with open arms. i realize you two have… issues, but eywa has chosen this path for you. do not throw it away for this boy. you have a strong heart and gentle hands, you will grow to be a fine healer.” 

your stomach dipped at her words, surprised by the comforting gesture. you were happy to work alongside such an understanding woman, but you felt misplaced as a medicine man. the title weighed heavy on your conscience; everytime you were faced with a bloodied guest, you doubted the purity of your morals. were you even upstanding enough for them to put their trust in you? a twinge of guilt filled your lungs, compromised your senses, and made your cheeks darken in shame under her kind eyes. you turned towards her and offered what you hoped was more of a smile than a grimace before resuming your work. 

✶✶✶✶

your apprenticeship left ample room for free time. you wandered the archery grounds, absentmindedly shuffling the stones under your feet. kiri would meet you there shortly for a round of target practice. you admired the way she carried herself, unburdened by responsibilities. this wasn’t to say that kiri didn’t have responsibilities; she frequently prepared meals with her mother, watched over tuk, and wove beautiful clothing articles for her siblings. sometimes she could even be found working with remedies at your side. but she was a free spirit, balancing these tasks with ease. no singular label tied her down.

as she approached the clearing, you offered her a beaming smile and waved her over with a bow in your hand. “hey girl, long time no see!” she shouted from the trees. “i saw you yesterday, kiri. although since then my life has drastically changed!” you sarcastically shouted back with an amused grin on your lips. a loud laugh waved through her body as she came to a stop beside you. “ready to get your ass beat?” she asked, removing an arrow from her quiver. you shoved her side lightly, “it depends, is that what usually happens to the winner?” 

the playful jabs continued throughout the training, ebbing away at the worry you carried in your chest from the day before. you two were tied, each with one target to go. you straightened your spine and pulled the drawstring back, allowing it to rest lightly on your lips. you squinted an eye, inhaling sharply through your nose before letting it fly to hit dead center. you whipped your head in her direction, smug. “wow, i can’t believe i’m the best archer ever. i’d like to thank my family and also eywa for this opportunity,” you teased. she smacked you lightly with her tail, a smirk on her lips as she released her own string. “a tie again. one of these days i’ll get you. sleep with one eye open, y/n.” 

you chirped at eachother the whole way back to hometree, eventually slipping into quiet, lighthearted conversation. you lay on your back, the grass tickling the nape of your neck as you chew your lip worriedly in a lapse of silence. “kiri,” you start cautiously, “have you ever felt like shit? generally? i mean, i love maiya like a mother, but i sometimes feel like i’m wasting my days in that hut. i don’t even know if i’m cut out for it.” you avoid her eyes, instead suddenly finding great interest in the trees above. she rolls onto her stomach, pinching her nose in thought. “sometimes. like, i don’t even know if i fit into any one role, i just wander. i think loak is the same; although he’s always training with dad, i’m not sure his heart is in it.” you tense at the mention of his name, chewing the inside of your cheek as you hum in response. of course, she knew you two weren’t on good terms, but he was her brother, and you weren’t daft enough to assume he would just disappear; nor would you ever ask her to censor her life for you. “and, y/n, you are not only a healer,” she adds. you meet her eyes now, pushing yourself to mirror her soft smile. she strays from the topic, leaving the sentence hanging with promise and assurance. 

you find yourself heading back to the healing hut in hopes of finding maiya. instead, a lone figure was hunched over your fieldnotes, too tall to be the elder in question. loak, with trained ears, hears you in the entrance despite your quiet steps. you march over to him, peeling the journal from his grasp. “that’s not yours,” you spit. although the journal held only facts and data of wildlife, you felt violated that he’d looked through it. he leans back on the counter, peering down at you through his brow with a coy smirk tugging at his lips. “your writing is illegible. it looks like it belongs to some blind kid.” you seethe, flashing your canines passively while you hurriedly flip through the pages, half-expecting him to have ripped some out. they were pristine, as you had left them. your eyes meet his again, viscous like honey from the irritation swimming in them. “what do you want?” he clenches his jaw and manually removes his gaze from your own, putting his arm out to you defiantly.

his bicep is marred with blood, now dry and coppery against his cerulean skin. you surrender, remembering what maiya had told you after his last visit. while you didn’t have your heart set on being a healer, you didn’t want to disappoint her. she relied on your help; no longer swift or energetic enough to make the trip for gathering. he allows himself to be led towards the mat, feeling your prodding fingers pushing him down to sit. dusk had began to fall on the village, leaving a cool breeze gliding through the flaps of the hut. you take a cloth to his bicep, which he still holds out for you quietly. he clenches his jaw at the pressure you apply, refusing to let out a hiss of pain in your presence. 

“looks like the trainee isn’t off to a great start. i’ve been here for about an hour,” he grunts. you furrow your brow, feeling it twitch with annoyance, and press the cloth harder into his wound. “ow, what the fuck?” he barks. “don’t be an ass, i’m the only one here to help you.” your jaw juts in anger, eyes trained on him for his next move. your interactions were like a game of chess; each word aimed at destroying the other’s ego. right now, loak was losing. and he knew it. quick to retaliate, he counters, “you’re hardly any help at all.” he was struggling to control his voice, hate rising in his throat like bile. but chess was a game of calculation; whoever breaks first is the loser. 

you narrow your eyes, nipping at your cheek in a feeble attempt to keep your temper in check. you dip your fingers into the fresh pot of yalnabark that sat near your hip. “if you were a better warrior you wouldn’t get mauled every day, you wouldn't need my help,” you jeer. loak’s stomach tenses with rage, causing him to stutter under your touch. “if you were a better warrior, you’d be on the battlefield instead of fawning over every scratch in the clan,” he snaps, ripping his arm away. 

it’s wrong to hurt someone who seeks assistance in your own healing hut. you know that. he was grasping for the upper hand, and overstepped. you could ignore it if you really wanted to. fuck it, though. you shove him into the mat, shouting curses in his face. he was able to keep up with your rapidly escalating anger, growling as he pushed you back. you jolt under his weight, hissing into his chest in a blind rage. a sly grin formed on loak's face, heavy amber eyes following the movement of your mouth as it cursed him to the moons and back. it was short lived as you weighed your options before choosing to knee him in the groin. his hand gripped your forearm as he groaned in pain, pushing you farther into the floor.

the anger you carried was usually shackled tightly, hidden desperately behind thick curtains. loak was the only person you revealed it to. and when you did, instead of the usual passive, clinical, and impersonal 'calming' techniques used by others, he’d bite back with equal force. you would dance with eachother using dangerous words and petty pushes. and the both of you craved it; an outlet to drown in. 

maiya chooses then to walk into the hut, watching you aggressively jostle eachother around like children. disappointment etched across her face as she towered over the scene. loak’s eyes follow yours to meet her gaze. both of your cheeks reddened as you fastidiously removed your hands from eachother. he scrambles to his feet, providing you with one last private snarl before leaving you alone in the hut with her yet again. you locked your jaw, anticipating her reaction with a clenched, dry throat.

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

notes: the devil over my shoulder was telling me to write y/n licking him during that scene, but im a child of god.

taglist: @weasleytwinwheezes

[strixcattus]

The Official Comprehensive Princess Rankings

I posted yesterday about the complexity of the official Princess-ranking poll and how I felt it had a couple weaknesses in its format. As of right now... I still haven't submitted my response. I'm thinking that writing this post up will cement the rankings, and then I can send them in.

I'm considering several factors in the rankings, and I'm weighing both how much I like the Princess and how much I like the chapter she's found within. A good narrative will boost a Princess I'm indifferent to, and an emotional attachment to the Princess will cause me to rank a chapter higher than another I find equally narratively-respectable. Since the poll talks about things in terms of Princesses, my liking towards a Princess will generally outweigh my liking towards a chapter's narrative.

Specifically, the things I'm primarily considering are: —Liking of the Princess, both on an emotional level and on a more cognitive, "I enjoy teasing apart what makes her tick" or "I can appreciate the existence of this character" level. On the emotional level, like outweighs dislike—but having any feelings about a Princess, even if they're negative, is an indication that they're sticking with me somehow, so the worst a Princess can do on this level is for me to be entirely indifferent towards her. —How fun or exciting the chapter is to play out. —How much I feel the chapter's narrative to be satisfying, or to say something interesting about the narrative around it. —How much the Princess or the chapter generally made an impact on me. This one isn't quite as explicable as the others—it's just a general impression or bias that's hard to put into words.

Some chapters have been split in two. I already said my piece about the Wounded vs. Networked Wild (though I'll be explaining each ranking here as well). In addition, there are two Chapter IIIs with significant differences based on the Voice you get in them—Den and EOTN. Each of these chapters has two different "success" outcomes and a "failure" outcome—and I'll be splitting them accordingly, since I find some of their narratives to be more satisfying than others.

The Greys, on the other hand, have been merged, because I don't see a significant difference between them. Nor do I particularly between the Damsel and the Deconstructed Damsel, but I'm still splitting them up because it gives me an excuse to talk about what the latter actually is. The Razor chapters do have a significant distinction, but since my only difference in opinion between the two is because of the Voices present, I'm leaving them together.

Without further ado, the List:

The Witch At any given moment there are only two Princesses I am liable to be rotating in my mind, so obviously they're cemented for top two. Witch wins out over Razor because I find the narrative of her chapter to be more fun, interesting, and complex.

The Razor I don't have much more to say about her specifically. She's a fun character.

The Den (flight) I don't much care for fighting the Den—though I think it's likely this will change post–Pristine Cut. Fleeing her, though, leads to a moment of sympathy at the end that I particularly enjoy—as you might have been able to guess, I like her narrative on this path. Admittedly, her high position here is due in large part to emotional attachment... which is all entwined in the "flight" ending, so the "fight/fail" endings don't get the boost.

The Wounded Wild I have a marked dislike for the Networked Wild and, by extension, most of the Wild chapter—but I'll get to that when it's relevant. The Wounded Wild, on the other hand, I feel has a very satisfying narrative when you choose to cut her free—you and she were never meant to be the same, but that doesn't mean you need to continue hurting each other. She's the only Princess I can't bear to slay, even just to see what happens.

The Damsel See this post. In summary, I like how she seems to be particularly narrative-savvy, perhaps even more so than most other Princesses.

The Deconstructed Damsel She loses some points when made to stand as her own entity from being removed from what I enjoy about the Damsel in general, but I do like what she means. I see on occasion posts about how the Damsel has had her agency stripped from her, which I don't see at all—but the Deconstructed Damsel is what you get when you insist that must be the case. The Princess is a creature of perception, and if you go looking for an empty shell, an empty shell is what you will find.

The Fury Her hold on her position is tenuous due to how the narrative of her chapter fails to live up to the first impression—but boy what a first impression she makes. MEAT indeed. The narrative falls flat with its one-option, illusion-of-choice structure, but I'm content to wait and see how the Pristine Cut will improve that.

The Eye of the Needle (fight) This was one of the Chapter IIIs I reached on my first run, and boy is it a good first impression of EOTN. If I were basing this ranking solely off of how thrilling I find the chapters, she'd be in first place with a wide gulf behind her. Definitely one of the most fun chapters... though the other versions trail quite a bit behind.

The Adversary This is where things get muddled. The Adversary, and the two after her, are at a point where they're being judged more on their chapters than their Princesses. For the Adversary specifically, I'm largely neutral on her as a character, but I do enjoy just how much there is to discover in her chapter. I'm still certain I haven't found it all.

The Thorn As a Princess, again I'm largely neutral on her—but I do have to appreciate a good narrative arc, and I do have to acknowledge here that this is one of only two chapters that actually make me guilty about certain choices—though unlike in the Wounded Wild, I actually have abandoned and attempted to slay the Thorn. For the achievements, you must understand, and usually reverted via autosaves afterwards.

The Stranger I preface this by saying I have not played her version of the newly-refurbished ending, though I doubt it'd improve her standing significantly. What I like about her is her chapter, and the peek behind the curtains it affords, and the perfectly-drawn road map it provides, all without the context needed to read it.

The Spectre Her position, too, is tenuous. I carry a good impression of her, and there was a time where I'd confidently assert her as my favourite Princess, or at least top three alongside the Witch and the Thorn. But when looking at her with an analytic eye... there's nothing concrete there to grasp, and her chapter doesn't stick with me as well as many others. She is fun, though, I suppose, and I'm greatly excited for what the Pristine Cut will do for her.

The Eye of the Needle (fail) i.e. ignoring your newest Voice's suggestions and attacking her head-on in the tunnel. I just think it's fun.

The Nightmare Voice of the Paranoid carried her chapter. She also has the honor of being one of a scarce few Princesses I dislike! Right there with Tower, Wraith, MoC, and maybe Networked Wild, but she's my least favourite of the bunch! This is why she places so highly in my rankings compared to the rest of them and to all the Princesses I'm largely neutral on. In fact, I dislike her so much she actually managed to beat out my objective appreciation of the next entry on this list:

The Shifting Mound I'm largely moderate in my opinions on her. Granted, I'd rather not live forever with her as my only company, but it's not because I dislike her—we just have a very fundamental difference of opinion that I really can't look past. Objectively, I appreciate what she is and how she achieves being what she is, and I feel she was executed well. (Figuratively, I mean. I hate executing her literally.) If not for that one tiny disagreement I have with her, I might actually like her. (16–19 is a set of very close calls)

The Prisoner I don't have much to say on her or the next Princess. Getting to pull one over on someone inside your own head is pretty cool, though.

The Beast I appreciate that there's a good few things to experiment with during her chapter. The Princess herself I'm largely neutral on, though.

The Wraith Conversing with her is fun and throwing yourself into the void out of spite is deeply satisfying. Enough said.

The Apotheosis I'm not a fan of largely linear chapters where you don't have many meaningful choices... so the Pristine Cut will probably do wonders for her standing. Getting to stand against a literal god is cool, though... but is largely outweighed by the fact that it doesn't actually have any visible consequences.

The Moment of Clarity Narratively, to be sure, this poses an interesting void of information. I'm not actually sure why I'm ranking her so low, since this is the one linear chapter where I actually think its linearity adds to the effect... but I don't know. I can't see myself dragging her a single spot upwards.

The base Princess A complicated situation. Her personality doesn't really come through until the end, but I do enjoy talking with her in the final cabin, and that's enough, I suppose, to allow her a place here, hovering above the ones I genuinely don't really like.

The Networked Wild I do not like being one with the Princess, nor do I feel it a satisfying narrative to remain that way. Perhaps it's a good thing she sits here, near the bottom, though—it makes the Wounded Wild and the denial of this oneness that she represents so much more beautiful. The peek behind the curtains the Network Wild affords, though, despite paling in comparison to the Stranger's, is enough to keep her out of the gutter.

The Den (fight/fail) There's just not a lot to see here.

The Eye of the Needle (free) All I could think of when I went down this route was how I wasn't fighting her, and thus the chapter was truncated. It left a bit of a sour taste.

The Greys (Burning and Drowned) I dunno, team.

The Tower I may dislike her a bit, but even more so, there's something unsatisfying about her chapter. Something that makes it feel linear even when it isn't. Like it has fundamentally less choice than any other Chapter II. It itches.

(For the record: It wouldn't fit in the list (somehow I filled up the character limit almost perfectly), but I somewhat prefer the "harsh" version of the Princess at the end to the "soft" version. Can't articulate why; just do.)

[somethingineedtogetoffmychest]

Something tells me shaykota is done.

It’s clear by Shayna’s recent post/stories that she’s struggling and going through something. Especially if you watched her last livestream where she opened up a little bit and was clearly emotional. Some things she said in that stream also make me think this. Like when she said she now has to get a new car since before they’d usually just go places together, someone mentioning something along the lines of her getting a car that’ll help her find love to which she replied with something like “Exactly! I’m tired of being alone and having no one to talk to when I feel like this.” She also said that whatever happened, she’d talk about one day and that we’re going to find out eventually.

Then yesterday, kota posted a story of puppy asking her, “Did you miss me?” Between this and the car thing, i feel like she might’ve moved out.

Of course none of this could be true and I could be dead wrong. I’m just heavily speculating here. Whatever is going on, i really do feel for shayna because feeling alone when you’re down in the dumps really sucks.

I want to end by saying that I’m not usually one to speculate on people’s personal lives, or read into things or even post about it, but this has been weighing on my mind. I feel so weird about it, i made a whole new blog just to make this post. I also don’t know if anyone is even going to see this post tbh.