#I hate thinking that those old conversations are all I’ll have of you one day

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Hell's Assumptions

A/N – Okay, I think that’s everyone on the tagging list. So, here’s to Chapter 4. Raise a glass.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx@sseleniaa@randomgurl2326@22carolina08@astrxwitch@yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe

People were staring.

The worst part was, you weren’t sure who they were staring at, you or Lucifer. It could have easily been him since he was the King of Hell, and even those who didn’t immediately recognise him could sense the power he exuded. However, it was just as likely that they were looking at you and wondering who you were, and how you had managed to get their ruler to walk with you, especially since he wasn’t known for going out much.

Fortunately, when people saw Lucifer coming, they moved to the other side of the street, staring, whispering, taking pictures, but keeping a safe distance.

Lucifer was used to this kind of thing. He walked confidently, held a charming smile, and was generally non-plussed by the attention. You, on the other hand, felt awkward.

‘This was my idea,’ You mentally reminded yourself.

You tried to hold onto that thought as you attempted to strike up a conversation.

“So… What’s it like in the Embassy building?” You asked, quickly realising that it was a terrible topic as Lucifer’s smile became a glower.

You shouldn’t have reminded him where he was going. It was obvious he hated Heaven for their treatment of him, yet yearned for it and the life he had lost within its pearly gates where nothing went wrong for anyone.

“Sorry,” You said hurriedly. “I didn’t think- uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Lucifer smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe you. Only the night before, you had told him to grow up, with such confidence, and now here you were struggling for words. He bypassed the awkward situation with ease by asking, “Will you be visiting the Hotel today?”

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I would like to see everyone again. Check that Nifty hasn’t set anything on fire. Make sure that everything’s okay, and-”

You had been about to mention Angel Dust. Today was one of his work days. You would like to check that he was okay. You didn’t mention him however, with something like a confidentiality clause stopping you, though you weren’t his doctor, nor was he your patient. You didn’t want to talk about his suffering; he was more than his trauma.

Instead, you said, “I would like to check in, but maybe not today. Besides, you’ll be there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to deliver the news to Charlie personally, and perhaps coach her on some of Heaven’s stricter rules.”

“Then, I think I’ll stay at the manor. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You and Charlie- I think you need to catch up a bit, without any interruptions. She missed you, you know.”

Lucifer ruminated on this for a minute. Whatever your motivations, he was glad that you were giving him and his daughter some space. Granted, the Hotel was large enough to house many conversations in separate areas but by making the offer of keeping your distance, you were giving Lucifer some breathing room; that was good.

Had you not made that offer, Lucifer might have brought up the topic of moving you back into the Hotel to Charlie, but in respecting his boundaries, Lucifer was starting to think that you weren’t so bad… for a Sinner.

“I missed her too.”

“Can I ask,” You said hesitantly, “What kept you away so long? You clearly think the world of her.”

Lucifer sighed, and stopped in the middle of the street, “I-”

He didn’t get to explain his absence.

Instead, he became annoyed as two Sinners, one who looked like a nine-year-old boy’s dream with bazooka arms and rocket-infused shoulders, and the other a winged bear-woman wielding a machine gun burst through the building on the opposite side of the road, waging war upon one another.

“SHIT!” You cursed, seeing the debris that threatened to crush a lone imp who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, his leg trapped under the first brick segment that fell.

Reacting quickly, you threw out your arms. A light green barrier shielded the imp from further harm, but you struggled under the weight of so much wreckage.

“MOXXIE!” A female imp yelled, running to him.

You thought she might struggle to lift the wreckage off him and were about to ask for Lucifer’s help before your barrier would inevitably crumble. Yet, the female imp was stronger than she appeared and she threw it off Moxxie. She then lifted him bridal style, and ran from the danger, shooting you a grateful look from across the street.

You gasped and shuddered as you let your arms fall, your barrier fading from existence.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Lucifer said as you straightened up.

“What?” You breathed heavily, recovering from the exertion; one of the weakest Demons in Hell, with your limited abilities.

“It was a nice thing to do, but what’s the point? Look around,” Lucifer threw his arms up dramatically. “Someone built something nice, and now it’s gone, all because two Sinners couldn’t take their petty power struggle somewhere else. Nobody benefits from this.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by the same two imps you had just saved, “Hey there, I’m pretty sure my husband is delirious right now, but he wanted to come over here.”

“I’m not delirious, Millie,” Moxxie said pointedly, clinging onto her shoulder to support his weight; his leg was in all likeliness broken, but being an imp of Hell, it would heal quickly enough.

Millie looked at him sympathetically, likely thinking something along the lines of, ‘Baby, we’re the only ones on the same side of the street as His Majesty, but do what you gotta do!’

“I must thank you most humbly for your remarkable rescue in my name, good Lady,” Moxxie exclaimed pompously, probably presuming that since you were accompanied by Lucifer you were of a much higher station than you were. “Without you, I would certainly have perished, so I find it an appropriate time to extend my gratitude.”

“He means thank you,” Millie affectionately translated.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled. Then, with a small flourish of your fingers, Moxxie leg was bandaged and he was provided with a crutch to hold onto. You were no healer, but that would help the bone set correctly.

Moxxie and Millie thanked you both again, presuming that Lucifer had been part of the rescue (and in a way he was, for when the warring Demons saw him, they took their battle elsewhere), then they were gone, one limping down the street on his new crutch, and his wife offering to carry him.

“You’re wrong,” You said, once the pair were out of sight. “They benefitted.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say about that. They were only imps. Why did you think they mattered? Yet, after watching the loving couple thank you for their rescue, Lucifer wasn’t certain that he trusted his assessment of the situation. Charlie wanted to redeem Sinners, you had just saved the lowest of all Hell’s beings and he…? He needed to reassess how he thought about things.

The two of you didn’t speak after that and Lucifer assumed that you were mad at him until you reached Heaven’s Embassy. Lucifer stared at the building, broken and hopeless, thinking about how he would have to fight for Charlie.

He was about to take the first step towards it when you rested your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at you, surprised.

“Good luck,” You proffered sympathetically. Then you walked away, and Lucifer was left staring after you. So, you weren’t mad at him after all. What a curious person you were.

He looked back to the building before him, the one place in Hell that was perfectly pristine, and unable to be harmed by anyone. After a deep breath, he headed inside.

When Lucifer returned home, he was exhausted. The meeting had been lengthy and derogatory. He had been treated with barely disguised disdain and talked in circles, but finally, Heaven had agreed to allow his daughter passage to Heaven.

It was never an option really. As the ruler of a powerful realm, Lucifer had to be treated respectfully, even if all of Heaven hated him. Yet, just because they had to acquiesce to his request didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The only good news was that it had been Sera and a few of her assistants who hosted the meeting, not that ignorant prick Adam; Lucifer hated that guy… though his taste in women had always been spectacular.

Still, it had all been worth it when he got to the hotel and Charlie thanked him and invited him to stay for a while. They had caught up over tea, and he had gotten to know a little bit more about her and her relationship with Vaggie. Lucifer likely would have stayed longer seeing as he’d also been invited to games night, but then that red-headed bastard was there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Lucifer had made his reasons to leave.

Now, all he wanted was to recover in peace.

On his way upstairs, he heard the long-neglected TV blaring in one of the living rooms. Feeling somewhat guilty about his unsupportive attitude towards you earlier, he decided it would probably be good for him to make amends and apologise. So, before isolating himself for the evening, he sought you out.  

You were hunched on the sofa, watching 666 News, and grimacing at the new headline, King of Hell’s New Fuckbuddy.

Lucifer stood quietly behind you, watching as Katie Killjoy reported, “While Hell will be royally fucked by the impending extermination it seems that King of Hell Lucifer is being royally fucked by his new bimbo bitch, seen walking with him today on the streets of Pentagram City.”

Security camera footage of you and Lucifer from earlier filled the screen for a minute before returning to the hosts.

“Who is this Sinner? Does Lucifer get off on Angelic clothing? We hope to find out more soon. Over to you, Tom.”

Tom Trench continued the report, much less assuredly than his co-anchor, “Nobody can say for certain they’re together. Some speculate the Demon to be his highness’ new assistant or-”

Katie clutched Tom’s neck in one hand, never looking away from the camera as she cut off his air supply, “Nobody gives a shit about your limp-dick opinion Tom. We’re all here to speculate about who’s raw-dogging who. Now, onto our cooking segment, It’s Dahm Good, with host Jeffrey who is making a delicious spleen soufflé. Jeffrey-”

“HA!” Lucifer laughed, pointing at the TV.

“Shit!” You yelped, lurching forward, having not known he’d returned home. You turned the TV off and stood to face Lucifer.

He was doubled over and wheezing at the idea that you and he would ever be together.

“Well, at least you’re not upset about this,” You grinned, finding his good mood contagious.

“What morons. They’re always just there, assuming the weirdest shit whenever I go out,” He laughed.  

“Yeah? So, it’s okay people know we’re friends?”

Lucifer straightened up with a smile. So, you classed him as a friend? He didn’t confirm or deny your assumption of friendship. He waved his hand, unbothered, “Let them think what they want to think. It’s Hell, nothing matters. Besides, 666 News is trash.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, how did the meeting with Heaven go? Did they agree to meet with Charlie?”

Lucifer sobered up slightly, though he didn’t seem as upset as he was earlier when Heaven was mentioned, “Yes. The meeting’s in a week. Charlie is- She’s optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I- My girl can handle it.”

“Yeah, she can.”

And so it was that you and Lucifer started to find some common ground, that slowly built the gap from two people who barely knew one another, towards friends.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #31

Belphegor: Snail but with no shell

Beelzebub: Oh those is then uuuuuuuuuuu slurms

Satan: A what

•

Diavolo: Maybe dogs lick us so much because they know there’s bones beneath our skin

Lucifer: This is worst thing you’ve said by far, thanks

•

Beelzebub: Aye can I get Uh…..ingredients on my burger

Satan: Beetroot?

Satan: You want beetroot?

Satan: You want fucking beetroot?

Beelzebub: Ingredience

Mammon: This post feels exactly like a conversation you would witness in a dream and think was completely normal and then wake up and think “what the fuck” for a single millisecond and then immediately forget about completely

•

Diavolo: I’ve lost 20% of my couch

Diavolo: Ouch

Solomon: That’s the funniest couch joke I’ve seen sofa

•

Mammon: *begins breakdancing gently* what’s wrong son?

Asmodeus: What the fuck. What does this even mean. Who thinks of this shit, why is it so funny. I hate this site

•

Mammon: You know what really gets my goat?

Barbatos: El chupacabra

•

Leviathan: The future: holograms can physically touch you and there are 12 cases of homicide committed by Hatsune Miku

Solomon: Just 12?

Diavolo: It’ll be 13 if you don’t stop asking questions

•

Satan: Do you ever get so excited you just want to crush a human skull in your hands

Mephistopheles: You just described breathing

Satan: I am fairly certain I Did Not

•

Mammon: I love it when the city gets rainy at night, and the floor gets all reflective and pretty, and everything becomes more vibrant and gorgeous and you can put any fluid on the ground and people will think it’s water, fools

Lucifer: This post was great until the last part, what are you implying

Mammon: Fool

•

Diavolo: Science puns, go!

Belphegor: You must have a pH of 13 cause you basic as fuck

•

Satan: Shut up @ people who still say “science side of tumblr”

Belphegor: Science side of tumblr why is this man so salty

Solomon: Osmosis

•

Satan: 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses

MC: The stables have turned

Mephistopheles: I laughed too hard at this and I hate you for it

•

Leviathan: Guys, I’m sorry but I think December 31st is going to be my last day on Tumblr for this year

Leviathan: …If one more person asks me why I’m leaving

Diavolo: Kids, this is why school is important

•

Simeon: In primary writing school we had a creative writing assignment where we had to ‘write about a character in a new strange environment’ and I wrote about a squid that was somehow transported from the ocean to the forest floor and slowly choked to death for two pages and I’ll never quite forget the look on my teacher’s face because it turns out she wanted ‘this new school is scary, I hope I make friends’ and not a graphic description of a squid dying

Lucifer: Well that’s just the risk you take if you decide to teach creative writing

•

Raphael: Why do stores always say “gifts for her”??? Who is she? Why are millions of Americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? Someone explain

Mammon: We must appease Her

MC: She is all that keeps the darkness at bay. Without Her the Old Ones will rise again, we must not disappoint Her

Solomon: She is watching. She knows.

Last • Next

[freedomfireflies]

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god. 

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too. 

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted. 

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you. 

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed. 

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah. 

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit. 

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair. 

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then? 

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

 You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone. 

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that. 

Seriously, how do I make it go away? 

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa. 

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on… 

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text. 

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude. 

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned. 

Uh-huh. 

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too. 

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now. 

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah. 

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle. 

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun. 

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart. 

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

 My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube. 

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh. 

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right. 

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie. 

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

 It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny. 

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah. 

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

[abilouwrites]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

Mat Barzal x fem!oc

Series Masterlist

ONE

I only like the bookstore during the night, when it’s slow and nobody’s around. The lights are flickering and the town suddenly goes quiet in contrast with the bustle of the busy mornings and heavy traffic of the day.

I only work here on the weekends for the closing shifts or the opening ones. Something to make a little more money to fall back on besides my adult corporate job. My parents are proud, more my father than my mother that I’ve begun my climb up the corporate ladder.

I don’t hate my job, far from it. Simply the long hours and bossy bosses that make me pull at my fingers and tug at my hair. Especially with my youth and admitted naivety, those at my job can be wary about me either in the break room or being hesitant to invite me out for drinks.

I’ve been told by my therapist that I rushed my childhood, skipping grades and taking collage classes while also taking highschool classes at the same time. I want to fight her on it, claim that I did have a childhood and had dreams but I know that I’m defending something I never had.

Two parents who were always fighting; hated eachother but swore to stay together because of their vows, “Hey Bella” I smile at the older lady standing at the counter as I tuck behind into the back room and set my purse onto the table and wrapping my apron around my body, “slow day?” I ask as I switch from heels to converse.

“Yeah, it’s the middle of the school season so all the kidlets are probably studying” she sighs out rubbing her tired eyes, “ok, I’m off. Be safe. Please” she reminds me as she pats my shoulder, “I’ll need you to come in a bit earlier tomorrow for the opening shift, we’re getting a new shipment of books for the month”

“Uhh, yeah yeah I can do that, so 5:30 instead of six?” I clarify, as I clock myself in on the timetable next to the register.

“Yes, thank you Emma. You’re a doll” She smiles and blows me a kiss exiting the building as the cold wind brushes against her; gently pulling at the greying blonde hair that’s always been tucked into a a little bun.

I turn on some music to keep my mind from straying as I walk around the store. Gently brushing my fingers against the creased spines and occasional leather covered book. Those nice collectors editions are always Romeo and Juliet, or Hamlet.

Personally I’ve thought Romeo and Juliet a bit childish and immature, but I’ve always been told I’m looking at it from a modern perspective. I believe that Romeo and Juliet is the way to not fall in love.

But then again, that’s coming from the girl who watched her parents try and fix an already broken marriage by having an abundance of kids and forcing themselves to stay together even though, everyone’s known they’d be better apart. Even their own kids.

I tidy up the reading corner, setting the old book. Princess and the pea back onto the shelf and searching for the one tomorrow.

My my fingers pull and push against the covers of the kids books, looking for something different. I don’t pay attention when the bell jingles and jangles while I hear a heavy step quickly become softer. I hear them physically relax as they walk the isles.

I eventually decide on a book with a unicorn and a blonde girl. Something I fondly remember of my own childhood.

I stretch up a little and let my hair down from its clip, it falls unevenly against my shoulders but I don’t mind or even care that much. This bookstore is my happy place; where I am safe and content within my own body. Here I will never care what I look like.

I view the man searching in the fiction section, something specific I can tell by his body language. If he needs help I’ll allow him to ask; yet I’m wary of going up to a man and guiding him to the book.

When he finally notices me watching him he turns around and asks, “do you know where I can find ‘The road’ it’s uh. Geez by I think by Cormac McCarthy?” He stumbles out; slowly dragging a hand across his face and brushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

His face is soft but sharp; his eyes evoke a warm bubbly feeling inside me. Eyes that make me feel comfortable being alone with him, “yes, I believe we only have a few left” I tell him, walking off to a different section of the store, “I know, our shop is set up weird” I explain.

“And why’s that?” He inquires, his pace isnt rushed or faster than mine. But relaxed and nonchalant. As if he has all the time in the world.

“The original owners, she has a special section called ‘Meine Leibe’ which I think translates to ‘My loves’ or ‘my life’ once she passed her daughter kept it the same so this little section would always be here for her. I find it endearing” I know I ramble on a bit but I’ve suddenly grown afraid of having a silence against the two of us

“It is, it’s just a little place with all her favorite books?” He keeps asking, as I turn into the cozy little corner. I thumb through the alphabetical order.

“Yeah, her favorite chair, pillows. Shannon was such a kind lady” I reminisce, “here is The Road, is there anything else I can help you with? Or will that be all for today?”

“Uhh, ha unless you have ‘The deal’ by Elle Kennedy then I’ll take that too” I think he’s being sarcastic but I can’t really tell.

“I think we do, are you a hockey fan?” I ask walking to the romance section.

“I guess you could say that, do you watch?” He asks, “do you need a hand?”

“I watch a bit, just the New Jersey Devils with my dad. Yeah it’s just above there” I point, even on my tip toes the store has ceiling high bookshelves. And because it’s night the ladders been locked up. I move to the side as he grabs the book.

“Are you from Jersey?”

“Yeah, I lived there before I came to New York for a work deal”

“I’m going to assume it’s not this job.. right?” As he makes his way to the register and I slink behind the counter

“Yeah, my uh big girl job as my mom likes to address it as” I hear the roll in my eyes as I scan the bar codes and ring him up, “will that be with cash or card?”

“Card” He pulls his wallet out of the front pocket of his jacket, “thank you”, he checks for my name eyes staring just above but also at my chest.

I poke my eyebrows up at him praying to god this man isn’t looking at my tits directly; not even with the slightest bit of discretion.

“I’m uh looking for your name to thank you— I swear I’m not looking at your uh. You know boobs” he almost whispers out the last bit before continuing, “not that they aren’t nice or anything but uh” the tips of his ears turn pink and his cheeks suddenly become flushed, “I will just pay now” he groans out softly; handing me his card and rubbing his eyes with his hands.

I ring him up and he puts his pin in, “thank you again, you never told me your name” he questions for that piece of information

“Emma”

“Thank you Emma, have a good evening” he purses his lips and grabs his books. Hands shaking as he smiles and starts to leave.

“You too, wait” I lean over the bar slightly, “you never told me your name?”

“Mat”

“Alright then, have a good evening Mat. Come back soon”

The door jingles as he leaves and I watch him through the window, I see him sigh and smack his books against his head. Though I don’t exactly hear what he says; noises muffled through the glass and the music.

“Huh. What a strange guy”

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I could use some fluff please😕

Hiii babes!! I hope you enjoy these super fluffy conversations with Eddie💖

*when I say these are super fluffy I’m not exaggerating these are disgustingly sweet*

“You think we’re good for each other?” “No.” “Eddie! What the hell?” “Sorry I meant no we aren’t good for each other…we are great for each other.” “Oh really? What makes you think that?” “Because…the kinda love we have can’t be anything but great.” “Yeah?” “Yeah…this is that once in a lifetime type shit…or at least it is for me.” “You’re going to love me the rest of your life?” “Oh yeah…you’re stuck with me baby.” “I like the sound of that.”

“You make me nervous.” “Eddie be serious I’m trying to see where your mind is at with…us.” “I’m being fucking serious you…you make me nervous because what…what if there’s a day you wake up and realize you can do so much better than me? I don’t know what I’d do if you…if you decided to leave..I mean I wouldn’t blame you but I just…I really fucking love you and it’s terrifying.” “You love me?” “Yeah…yeah I do..I love you sweetheart.” “I love you too…and there’s never going to be a day when I wake up and want to be anywhere else but wrapped up in your arms because that’s where I feel the most at home.” “You’re it for me you know that right?” “Glad we are on the same page.” “God listen to us we sound like a hallmark commercial for one of their cheesy Christmas romance movies…” “oh you know you love their Christmas movies.”

“If I dropped to one knee right now and asked you to marry me what would you say?” “What took you so fucking long.” “Wait…what? Really? You wouldn’t run away screaming at the idea of me being your husband?” “No you dummy I’ve thought about you being my husband for a while now…I mean we live together and have a cat so it’s like the only thing missing is a ring on my finger and my last name being Munson.” “Oh…uhm well then in that case….will you marry me?” “Holy shit you’re actually doing it? Right now? I didn’t mean to pressure you I’m so-” “baby you’re making me really fucking nervous can you just say yes already?” “Oh shit I’m sorry! Yes yes of course I’ll marry you Eddie.”

“You know what I think?” “Honestly baby there’s no telling…” “don’t be mean Eddie.” “Sorry Princess…what’s on your mind?” “I think that you and I were meant to meet at the exact time that we did all those years ago because the universe knew exactly what I needed and who I needed to be loved by…so they sent you to me.” “I think you’re right baby…I had no intention of going to family video that night but all of a sudden I was pulling into the parking lot and not even five minutes later I run into you in the horror section.” “And look at us now…sitting in a bubble bath in our house on a Friday night because we are an old boring married couple.” “Boring? We aren’t boring…but yeah…crazy how time flies when you’re having fun with the one you’re meant to be having it with.”

“How much do you love me?” “I hate these conversations sweetheart they always end with me doing some ridiculous favor…” “so you don’t love me then?” “Now that’s…not what I said…you know I love you.” “How much?” “So much there’s not even a word for it.” “Oh that’s a lot…does that mean you love me so much that you’d come help me plant some new flowers in the garden?” “I knew this was going to end me with me on my knees somehow.” “Maybe I’ll return the favor later tonight if you don’t moan and groan while planting my petunias.” “I make no promises…you know how much I love moaning and groaning.”

“Can I tell you something?” “Is it going to make me cry? You know how I feel about crying Eddie…” “I don’t know? It might?” “Lay it on me.” “I think we’ve been in love before.” “Oh yeah? Like…in another life?” “I think we’ve always been in love and…will always be in love…in every life we live…I sound crazy don’t I?” “No Eddie you don’t sound crazy…I know what you’re talking about…what we have just feels too…special to only be for such a small amount of time.” “Exactly….I love you.” “I love you too…in this life and all the ones that come next.”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Prompt List

Hey, guys! I've made a list of prompts that y'all can send in, along with the driver you want! I am going to start with F1 imagines, and maybe, later on, I'll include other fandoms too. Also, I haven't really learned how to make an smau yet, so those requests might take me some time.

Feel free to send in stuff aside from this as well!

“We should get married.”

“What would happen if I kissed you right now?”

“I never really left.”

Using each other’s phones without supervision 

Having their first serious fight

“Seeing you like this, I fell even more in love with you.”

“You love me again.” “Who said I stopped?”

“Maybe this was a mistake.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

raspberry lip gloss

pajama bottoms

flushed cheeks

a fogged up mirror

colouring tattoos

lipstick marks on shirt collars

silver bangles

six missed calls

“Silly me to assume that you would care.”

“I can’t believe that we finally made it.”

“We’re ride or die, remember?”

“I’ll be here forever. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“If you insult them, you insult me.”

“We’re a package deal.”

“I could pick you out from a room full of thousands of people.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ve saved me so many times; it’s only right that I return the favor.”

“Did you seriously drop everything just to come here?”

“You are my home.”

“I saved this for you.”

“I got you your favourite.”

“I haven’t watched any of it without you.”

“This reminded me of you.”

“You can have the last one.”

“You could put a knife to my throat and I wouldn’t flinch.”

“I made this for you.”

“I knew you would be there. You always are.”

“I don’t care about what they think, I care about you.”

“I know, I know, I’m stuck with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“really? i never knew that about you.”

“who’d buying you flowers that isn’t me?”

“isn’t paying for dinner a date thing?”

“for you, i’d do anything.” “i know.”

a tattoo parlour, buzzing with machinery and walls lined with artwork .

an otherwise empty parking lot .

the thick crowd of an audience at a show .

“Wanna dance?”

“i love that about you.”

“your hugs are the best.”

“could you get any cuter?”

“please come back to bed.”

“god, you’re just the cutest.”

“wow. you look really good”.

“can you come here? please?”

“you’re freezing! take my jacket.”

stargazing

“I wish I could hate you.”

“I can hate your guts but still respect you.”

physical touch as a love language

words of affirmation as a love language

acts of services as a love language

“I miss home.”

“You’re safe with me.”

accidentally calling the other wife/husband

a forgotten anniversary gift hidden in a closet

“I think I need help.”

a cherished photograph tucked inside a book

an old, faded love note found in a pocket

a favorite blanket with a small, stitched heart

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you please just kiss me?”

a faded Polaroid tucked behind a mirror

a handwritten recipe with personal notes in the margins

leaving post-its everywhere

thunderstorms

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Pet names/Nicknames

sleeping arrangements

grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall

guiding each other through a crowded room with gentle touches

helping someone zip up a jacket in a chilly wind

subtle protection

“I’m sitting front row. I always do.”

cozy pizza night

sandcastles

“You scared me!”

coming home after a long day

dancing in the rain

domestic life

time difference

hugs

scrunchies

painted nails

promise rings

face masks

sunday morning breakfasts

warm cups of cocoa

late night conversations

movie marathons on rainy day

staying up all night and watching the sunrise together

building a fort with blankets and pillows

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

FM2M Ch8

Nothing Is Going To Wake Me Now

Summary: Feyre is delving further into herself as she becomes more and more isolated in the Spring Court. Her powers are erratic, Tamlin's temper is on the rise, and she has some things to consider before she needs to make a decision about her future.

Read here on AO3

My nightmares began to blend together until they were reduced to pools of blood on marble floors, the cracking sound of bones splintering underfoot, and Amarantha’s last testament as I lay dying. Those words still echoed in my ears, haunting me even when my view of blood and bones were replaced by that of my reality.

“Admit you don’t really love him, and I’ll spare you. Admit what a cowardly, lying, inconstant bit of human garbage you are.”

“You think you’re worthy of him? A High Lord? You think you deserve anything at all, human?”

I hated to agree with that monster, but… I was not worthy. Not worthy of the screams that echoed my name, threatening to banish her ruby stain away. Not worthy of this new life I had been given when the two innocents I had murdered met the Mother’s embrace in my stead. Not worthy of those who have vowed to protect and love me.

Not worthy.

Not worthy.

Not worthy.

They say that sometimes you have to fake it until you make it, and I wondered just how long it would take for me to truly believe that I was not damned for Hel. That all of the pain and loss and death was worth it.

I am nobody.

I am no one.

I am not worthy.

I felt my power stir beneath my skin, but instead of coaxing it from its hiding spot and letting it comfort my aching soul, I pushed it down, down, down until it was firmly locked away. For once, I was too tired to care. All caring did was cause more pain. I just crawled back into bed where I slept, and slept, and slept.

Days bled into weeks, and soon I forgot how long it had been since my new existence began. As a fae, it didn’t seem to matter now anyways. The need I once had to acclimate to my new life was stifled by the sheer unchanging nature of this court. I made my home within the walls of my room and the library, only leaving the haven of the manor to stroll amongst the rose gardens. I hadn’t dared enter the wing of the home where my painting room lay dormant, awaiting a soul to wake it from its slumber.

Tamlin was away from the Manor more often than not. Part of me hated myself for feeling a little more at ease when he was gone. It was just one less person to lie to, to fake smiles with, to pretend that I was the same girl who had drank faerie wine and danced the night away during the Summer Solstice. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and I didn't want to tell him that there was no fixing a soul that was broken beyond repair. Fortunately, he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, save for a kiss on the hand or cheek here and there. It felt as if all of the time we had put into our relationship leading up to now had been swept away in the wind.

There was no lack of effort on Tamlin’s part to return to simpler times, to our life before we went Under the Mountain. When he was home we would sit at meals together, walk through the grounds, and make small talk. I could see how much he craved a sense of normalcy, and I tried my best to fall back into our old routines.For his sake, I could at least try. He tried to hide his stress from me when we were together, but every time I tried to get him to open up about what was bothering him he just shut me out.

In the days that Tamlin was around and in the mood for company, Ianthe rarely left his side. They would have lengthy conversations over meals, and I could hear them bickering over tea and pastries long after I would excuse myself from their presence. Sometimes I wondered if one of my new budding powers was invisibility because I was rarely acknowledged, if I was noticed at all. Just as well, I suppose, because there was something unsettling about Ianthe. Without Lucien, it was just the three of us and part of me was grateful to fade away into the background. It made it easier not to care- not to bother with court posturing that I felt completely out of my depth with. The conversation I overheard a fortnight ago became a distant memory, and no one seemed to suspect that I had been lurking in the shadows.

Ianthe spent her days doting around the manor, acting more as a Lady of the house than I did. I was greatful that she took those menial tasks away from me, I wanted nothing to do with picking what teas would be served at meals and seating arrangements for parties. Apparently, she was planning a gathering next month for the people of the land and deemed my input invaluable. I truly didn’t care for any of it, but there was no point in denying her.

My aloof relationship with Ianthe made me appreciate the time I had spent with Mor even more. I was slowly realizing that Mor was the closest thing I had to a true friendship with another female. I was always surrounding myself with the boys of the village- at first because they were happy to run out in the mud with me across our estate and later because they knew the tips and tricks to surviving in the woods even in the harshest winters.

Mor’s friendship was one of the few things keeping me sane. When I was sure that no one was paying attention, I would pull out my notebook and talk with her. No matter the time of day, she was always quick to respond. There were some days where she was the only other being I would speak with. We would talk to each other about our days, tell each other stories from our childhoods, and it was nice to know she would always be there. She never once passed judgment- never once shied away from the hard conversations. In some ways she was becoming more of a sister to me than my own were.

Thinking of my sisters always cleared the way for a pang of loss and grief to strike my chest. There were some days I wished that Elain were here. She would love the party planning, talks of the latest fashion, and spending hours on end in the extensive gardens. I even missed Nesta, and in her own way I think that she would fit in more with the fae than even I did. She was born to be a general, commanding anyone and everyone in her wake with an iron fist. I tried not to think of them that often, as it only ushered in memories of a life that I no longer was welcome in. I quickly buried thoughts of them away into that part of my human heart that had withered away.

My headaches seemed to come in waves. Some days I felt fine, the connection to my magic almost feeling normal. When I had access to it, my whole body hummed with a contentment that made me feel whole. Other days I was so sick that I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. I had brought it up to Ianthe once during an afternoon tea in the rose garden. She had just told me that when a fae comes into their power it wanes and flows until it settles. That what I was experiencing was normal . That maybe I might not even have significant magic once its volatile nature settles. There was no point to have it during the time of great peace our lands are now seeing, she had said. I didn’t bother to remind her that nothing about me was normal. In reality, no one really knew what was wrong with me as I was the first and only of my kind. My existence only raised questions with no answers.

No one seemed to notice me these days, especially with Lucien gone. He was off on emissary missions to the neighboring courts, and his missing presence weighed on my heart. He was the only one who I could talk to here, who knew my secrets. The only one I trusted in this court to confide in. Most would use that knowledge against me, but not him. Never him.

The loneliness was made worse by the fact I was never really alone. There were always at least two guards stationed near me- outside my bedroom, below my balcony, outside the study. No matter where I roamed, there were sentries. I could tell they were trying to be discreet and keep a respectful distance away, but that didn’t stop the hairs on the back of my neck from constantly standing on edge. None of the fae around the manor bothered to speak with me, aside from Alis, but they did gawk. Gawk at their savior- cursebreaker- they called me. I know they tried not to stare, and I couldn’t really blame them for it. It didn’t make it any less comfortable, though.

Some were wary of my presence, like I was a lion prowling amongst gazelles. Others looked at me like I was holy. Those were the ones I hated the most. I was never treated like this when I was a human, when I was so fragile and weak compared to the immortal beings surrounding me. Now that I was one of them, they treated me more like a porcelain doll than ever before.

I hated the title almost as much as the staring. I didn’t dare leave the grounds and visit my glen again. There were too many eyes on me these days. No real chance to slip away. I would have to explain where I was going to the guards stationed around my room, and they would be obligated to tell Tamlin. Despite his consistent absence from the manor, the temporary reprieve wasn’t worth the ire and inconvenience it would cause him.

I floated through the estate like a ghost, stuck to relive my human life on repeat for eternity. I began rising later and later in the day, and some days I stayed in bed well past the time Alis would bring lunch to my rooms. I rarely ever ate what she brought me, and some deep rooted part of me screamed at how spoiled I had become. Long gone were the days when I would have dreamt of having a plate of hot food to fill my aching belly. My mind often drifted south, below the wall, to the life that felt so distant now that it felt like it belonged to someone else. It was only a year ago that we had been so desperate after an unusually slow summer that we went almost a week sustained on nothing but broth and some half-edible vegetables. Elain had recieved them as payment for helping a more affluent townsperson with their garden. These days, I seemed to eat less than I had then. The food in this court was too rich, too harsh. It felt like a waste to consume it, only to inevitably end my nights kneeled in front of my toilet heaving my stomach contents out of my system.

When I was up for a change of scenery from my bedroom, I would hole myself up in the study. I would spend hours sitting at a small desk in the back of the library underneath the tapestry of the creation of Prythian. I gave up on my search for finding books on those strange symbols and focused instead on learning as much as I could about the world I now lived in.

Most days I would rarely ever see or speak to anyone. My reading and writing had been accelerating at an incredible rate, and by the second week back I was consuming any tome I could get my hands on. The only marker for the passage of time became the increasing stack of books I had read in their entirety. I finished the Unabridged History of Prythian within a week, and began learning about the customs of the different courts. It was fascinating how each court developed right next to each other, but they could not be more different. There were similarities across all courts, of course, but each court was so unique in their clothing, histories, and customs.

I would read a page from a book and then copy a paragraph onto a piece of parchment. Soon, the feel of a pen was as natural to me as a paintbrush once had. My brain consumed all of the information around me like a sponge. I didn’t realize just how little I knew about our world, and how ill equipped I was to navigate it. I could not believe that just a few months ago I almost died from not knowing the skill that felt like second nature now. I hadn’t lied when I had told Rhys that I never wanted to feel weak again. I realize now that if I had eternity to live, I needed to know these skills.

Once the sun set, the library would grow dark and eerie. Despite the large windows to my back, the walls would always seem to close in, and all of the darkness lingering in my thoughts would begin to swarm. It kept pushing on my subconscious until the once expansive room felt as cramped as the Middengard Wyrm’s lair. I would be forced to seek shelter from the storm of emotions and memories that threatened to be released from their cage. More often than not, I would find myself staring up at the stars until I would fall asleep on my balcony, with only a candle and a book to keep me company. During the day, I would read more practical books, ones that taught me about the world. In the evenings, I tried to read something light if only to keep the darkness from my nightmares at bay. The nights were warm- balmy despite the crisp autumn chill that must have begun to settle into the Mortal Lands. Even the weather here was content with leisure and had long forgotten what change was like.

When I wasn’t reading or practicing my writing, I would work on building up my mental shields. Soon it became a striking adamant wall, glistening, thick and impenetrable. I would hold it in place until the feeling became as inherent as breathing. Despite all my hard work, it was impossible to tell how well they actually held up under pressure without another daemati to help me train. On the days where I could feel my magic, I would train it until I was spent and tired. I would only have enough energy left to drink some tea before going to sleep. Many times after my clandestine training sessions, I would wake up and my magic would lay dormant again.

I tried to not let my spiraling thoughts overtake my life, but I was haunted by the abyss my power left in its wake when they would disappear. It was just another hole in my chest that I had lost my desire to fill. But, my magic felt… empty. Almost as if it had been missing. Although I could still practice my mental shielding no matter my ability to access my magic, my capacity to feel the world around me had been dulled- censored. Every few nights, in between the nightmares and trips to the toilet, I would feel the rush of my powers, and it would overtake me once more. They still felt distant, somehow, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on? What was wrong with me? I was too tired to delve further, though.

Too tired to care.

I hadn’t heard a word from Rhys, not a single tap on my mental shields. We never shared our dreams with each other again, either. Honestly, I barely felt him on the other side of the bond most days- if at all. He was busy, and his court must have been in as much shambles as this one. He didn’t have the time to check in down the bond, despite the ache in my chest that would sometimes surface at the thought of it. At the idea that he didn’t think of me as often as he seemed to pop into my head. At random times during the day, I would think of him, what he was doing, if he was alive.

Stupid mating bond- I didn’t know if it was me who cared about such things, or the instincts involved with having a mate outside of my grasp. I had no idea how any of it worked. I pushed the thoughts of Rhys out of my head as fast as they had popped in. I am sure he is getting a lot more work done now that he doesn’t have to go back and forth between the moonstone palace and wherever he spent his days.

Despite it all, I didn’t care about most things anymore. With books being my only source of consistent company, there was no one, including myself, who cared enough to notice that I had delved further and further into myself. No one bothered to see the raging empty pit inside me that was growing by the day, threatening to devour me whole with every passing breath.

Continue on AO3

Tag list: @thebelladonnamoon @s-uppertime @vulpes-fennec @the-lonelybarricade @panicatthenightcourt @coracrowart @starfall-spirit @freyjas-musings @vikingmagic33 @hlizr50 @valeridarkness @lokisllama @aldbooks @foreverinelysian @dxnniiix @popjunkie42 @mis-lil-red @rhysiedarling @bearbluebooks @sadiegirl2021 @foundress0fnothing @climbthemountain2020

Let me know if you would like to be added :)

[commander-rahrah]

REALLY???!!! I wouldn't have sent this idea if I knew you're planning to use it for your fic! I'm sorry about that! You're welcome!

Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav offering their blood... despite hating being pierced/cut/poked? Like they hate the idea of even a needle poking lightly them that it doesn't bleed 🤣

What do you think of it? I'm curious :3

Don’t apologize!!! You had no way of knowing (: I am excited to get to that part in the Talking to the Moon though, and if you read it I hope you enjoy it!

In regard to this concept, I definitely think this is interesting!! This is kinda long and ranty again ahah whoops.

Anyways, I think this concept is so interesting — especially when you consider Astarion learning about his own boundaries. I feel there is so much emphasis on reader/Tav respecting his boundaries, so him coming to terms with theirs would be so interesting.

Especially if the reader/Tav went through with the first night of letting him feed. Maybe in the moment, Astarion didn’t recognize the shakes and tremors as something negative/fear. He was just so lost in his first feeding he failed to recognize it.

So then if you offered yourself/blood up again to him? I think the shame would double for him. Maybe he would even start comparing himself to his old master — wondering how he manipulated you into this. That despite your clear fear or hatred of the sensation that you still offered yourself up for more. Like you had to. Just like he did all those years gathering more victims for Cazador by any means necessary.

If it is early days between the two of you, I think he would playfully reject your offers to avoid it. Like, “Oh I already had my fill with goblins and cultists today, darling” or “I think I’ll spare that pretty neck of yours of any further marks”. I think he would be too ashamed of himself, and also too afraid to have such a vulnerable conversation just yet.

But once you two were more established, like post confession, and you offered again, I believe Astarion would feel safe enough to bring it up/confront you about it. I feel like he would bring up that he could sense your hesitancy, fear, hatred of the sensation. That he couldn’t bear to get you to do something you didn’t want. Not again. He didn’t want to become a trauma or phantom pain for you like the unwanted/forced touches he dealt with for 200 years. Not when you had done so much for him already, and become so important to him.

If you agreed that it was too much, Astarion would respect that. Autonomy and personal choice may be a new concept to him, but it is one he would fiercely advocate for everyone, not just himself.

If you told him that you still wished to let him feed, I think he would need more reasoning as to why... And if you explained it was because you care for him, trust him, love him more than you fear or hate the sensation — I believe Astarion would agree BUT only if you set boundaries and ground rules like you had with him in regards to physical intimacy and sex.

Side note: this is kinda unrelated but also not — all I can imagine is reader accidentally pricking their fingertip on something and letting out a little gasp. And before they can freak out Astarion just sucking the tip of your finger so gently before placing the tiniest kiss on it. “There — all better.” And you would be so distracted from the sensation of his lips and his proximity and just him, that you would forget all about your fear.

Thanks for the ask anon! I appreciate these messages, it’s so fun putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios hehe 🤍

[canonicallyobserving911]

"I can't stop thinking about him."

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic in the "What do you want?" A Series of Fics and Ficlets

The 4th fic in the "What do you want?" Series in now available on AO3. "I can't stop thinking about him." - Buck and Eddie are trying to move on but they can’t stop thinking about each other.

"I can't stop thinking about him." - 8.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

___________

Here's two snippets from this part of the series. One includes Buck having a conversation with someone from the past and Eddie's includes a conversation he's having with someone new but it's about Buck.

___________

Buck

“Exactly! We get to experience those rushes every day because we specialize in them and the 325 is a new division within the LAFD.”

“I wonder why Bobby didn’t mention it.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure but if I’m remembering correctly, the 118 is like family and you all are codependent as hell. But anyway, where’s Diaz?”

Buck sighs but he recovers quickly and responds, “He had other plans.”

She laughs out loud.

“What’s so funny?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

~~~

Eddie

Chuck nods then he glances at Eddie but when Eddie keeps his eyes forward instead of looking back at him, he returns his attention to the road and asks, “What about the other guy, the tall one who’s about my height. Who is he?”

That question makes Eddie turn his head to look at him. He inhales then replies, “That’s Buck. He’s my partner… I—I mean my work partner. We’ve been working together for almost 7 years.”

“Buck? Is that short for Evan Buckley?”

“Yeah but he goes by Buck.”

“Hmm… I’m trying to figure out why his name sounds familiar…” He trails off when he remembers why and he decides not to continue.

Who is Buck talking to? 🙃

Why is Eddie talking to Chuck about Buck? 👀

___________

"What do you want?" - A Series of Ficlets

Currently 4 works completed; 21.5K Words: Rated; Teen and Up Audiences:  This is a series of “Fics and Ficlets” that I’ll be writing over the course of the next few weeks and my goal is to keep them under a certain number of words. I’m challenging myself to do it this way for multiple reasons but mainly because I want to see if I can write a full Buddie story by including smaller fics in a series in comparison to the multi-chapter fic I’m still in the process of writing titled, “I’m still in love with you but… I needed to learn how to love myself too!” I only have 9 chapters left before I finish it but once I’m done, I’d like to continue writing Buddie fanfics. However, this time I’ll start with my dislike for the way season 7 ended instead of the way season 6 did. Finally, I have a lot of WIPs that I want to finish and I figured I can turn them all into one shot fics or ficlets to build the full story for Buck and Eddie.

Since these ficlets will be posted in order, it’s imperative to read them one after the other. Each part ends at a specific point with a cliffhanger and the next part will begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, parts 1 - 3 should be read prior to reading part 4 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

"You don't know math!" - 3.3K Words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences: Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

"Math is a universal language." - 5K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Eddie reconnects with an old acquaintance and they spend a lot of time together. However, now that Buck’s single, he finally tries to understand math is a universal language but when he sees Eddie talking to another guy, he wonders if it took him too long to figure it out.

“You know, it’s like that thing when you meet somebody and you just… click.” - 5.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: When Buck comes face to face with Eddie’s new friend; he hates it but since he’s only told Maddie about his breakup with Tommy, Eddie’s still under the impression he’s taken. Therefore, Eddie makes plans to spend even more time with his new acquaintance.

"I can't stop thinking about him." - 8.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie are trying to move on but they can’t stop thinking about each other.

Now Available on AO3

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I have a few statements to/ for a few of your OCs if you don’t mind!

To Chris: I just bought some off brand converse-like shoes that have dinosaur skeletons on them! They are so perfect and make me so happy, I think of Chris every time I look down at them!

To Chris and Jameson: It really sucks that both of your (I hate to use this term but this is what was used throughout the stories so it’s what I’m sticking with) owners died! I mean obviously that sucks much more for Jameson than it does Chris but we saw how much the news of Oliver’s death hurt Chris. I more or less ruined my own day thinking of Chris confiding in Jameson his complicated emotions regarding his passing. Like Jake’s reaction was totally appropriate and I think Jameson would have a similar one at first but also considering his own feelings when his “him” died. So yeah, I’ll just be over here sobbing in the corner at my own imagination if anyone needs me🥲✌️

To Jameson/Johnathan: please tell me that his and Hank’s last fight was not about that girl. Also please don’t tell me that Johnathan had something to do with Hank losing her number. As the younger bi sibling, I have actually ended up with one of my older siblings dates, and even though it was amicable at the time, if it did become an issue, and it was one of our last conversations, I could never get over that.

To future late 30’s Kauri: ENJOY THAT BATH ROBE AND EARLY BED TIME! That and your loving husbands companies are so much more meaningful than anything a night out could offer! I’m so proud of how far he’s come!

That’s all I can think of now but I very well may be back with more later! 🤠🫶

Oh as a bonus, this is for you, Ash: Thank you so much for the dedication to your characters and storylines, and backgrounds and world building. You are truly an amazing writer and you got some stones on you for actually posting it. I’m a pretty good writer too but I get screen fright and never end up posting, so I appreciate your bravery that allows us as your readers to enjoy and participate in the awesome world you have created.

<3 thank you anonnnn I struggle with imposter syndrome, so I totally get the fear of posting! I hope you try it out in the future, as the feedback and conversation has been really invaluable to me over the past few years.

For the Chris bit about shoes - Chris has those, too! If they're the same. From TOMS, black with colorful skeletons? He has those. He also has black and white ones where the bones glow in the dark.

For the combined Chris and Jameson bit: I think that Jameson would understand Chris's mix of affection and loathing really well, but struggle to express it. He really did LOVE Nanda, especially towards the end, but he also hated him sometimes, and so I think he could get that. But he was never afraid of Nanda the way Chris was afraid of Oliver. But I also think it would be a hard conversation and Jameson would probably eventually get angry and upset Chris and then it would turn into a big old angsty mess.

For the Jameson bit:

It wasn't about that girl! Jameson would tell you it was stupider than that. It was genuinely just the two of them being drunk and arguing about going home. Hank wanted to leave right then, Jameson wanted to hit up another bar. They fought about it, went their separate ways, and never saw each other again. And no, Jameson didn't lose her number - Hank just misplaced it. They found the note folded into a small scrap in his wallet when his body was located.

Kauri has never slept so well in his LIFE. Other than needing all of his pillows to be perfectly arranged, and sometimes he sleeps funny and then his neck hurts all day...

[saphirered]

Heyy!! So lately I've been in a very domestic, fluffy feel. SOOO NOW IM PROJECTING THAT onto this request rq teehee. I was wanting to do one for Percy, with season two out I missed the angsty gunslinger on screen. Set after the campaign, maybe during winter's crest? As of you and Percy coming back to whitestone for the occasion, its decided to round up all of Vox Machina. For a night of fun amongst friends, with a whole lot of ale to go around and stories to tell. Percy seems distant lately, staying more to his workshop and genuinely his own tasks. Not like his workshop isn't already a second room, it's just ODD to say the least. As the day rolls around, everyone starts to arrive at whitestones castle. With happy greetings and laughs, that night's activities begin. To sum it up , Percy proposes to reader. Thinking it would be a nice gesture to pull. Also cause I know this extra bitch would make a ring for you. I know it sounds cheesy but like hear me outtt!! The moment just sounded so sweet to me and I NEEDED to send this in. I'm a sucker for this cute content <3 Byeee Saph!!! :D

A proposal you asked for, a proposal you'll get. Fluff and cheese and all of the things. Sorry for the wait but I hop the 3.6k word count made up for it. Hope you enjoy and thanks for requesting! 😘

“I’ll be right with you, dear!” He’s spoken and shouted those words over the noise of his ongoing projects far too many times. Percy feels somewhat guilty for all but banishing you from his workshop and hiding this one secret project of his. He’s been so caught up in it; it has to be perfect after all. But that did mean he couldn’t spend as much time with you and his mind is elsewhere whenever he does leave his workshop. He’s seen your accepting but sad smiles whenever he wanders off. His heart hurts when he finishes late and you’re already in bed, asleep and alone curled up on your side because he missed yet another dinner. It’s reached the point where he’s been considering just spilling he beans. He doesn’t want to hurt you over some stupid secret but you’re so damn understanding and accepting. Of course you’re disappointed when he does join you for a meal and he informs you he has errands to run and won’t be back until late. You’d simply give him a kiss and wish him good luck. He’s barely seen you outside of your overlapping responsibilities. He just feels bad. But then there’s a breakthrough!

The door to his workshop slams open, or rather off its hinges entirely. Now very few people are able to break a deadbolted several inch thick heavy steel door clean off its hinges and that immediately signals him; it’s not you at that door. Given the shadow that all but blocks the light from entering He knows enough. He’s all but grabbed by the shoulders and lifted from his seat and can barely settle his things before he’s dragged out of his workshop. 

“Come on Percy, you’re not going to let us have all the fun, are you?” Scanlan speaks in a sing-song voice when he’s pushed into the hallway and sees the gnome casually leaning against the wall like the arsehole he is. 

“I was perfectly content finishing my work instead.” He counters but Scanlan wouldn’t have it. 

“We’re having a night out, like old times! Let’s drink dry a tavern! Start some fights!” The gnome tries to persuade him and while anything coming out of Scanlan’s mouth should always be questioned, He can’t help but long for some normalcy. No matter how much he might pretend to hate the ruckus his friends cause which inevitably ended with them getting kicked out of the establishment, district or even city, he likes it and misses it. And before he know it he’s spiralling in memories of you, covering his back while he tries to fight off that minotaur barkeep, and the time where you smashed that stein in pieces thug’s head. He also thinks of the conversations you’ve had, the things you learned about each other, and the sometimes drunken ramblings where your questionable theories actually hold some weight. He misses it all. He misses the glint in your eye right before you’re about to absolutely decimate some card players. He misses your laughter at Keyleth’s horrible jokes, and your caring side when she has a little too much. He misses your little battles of charm with Vex as the two of you attempt to have the group drink for free and negate the expense of the damages done to the establishment or people. 

Percy is so caught in his mind that he automatically walks with when Scanlan and Grog begin to move. He doesn’t even put up a fight. He’ll have this one night. He’ll enjoy it. Then he realises how bloody stupid he is. 

“Excuse me. I’ll meet you there.” He turns on his heels but comes face to face with Grog’s chest.

“Nuh-uh! Pike said she won’t let us have any ale if we don’t bring you back.” Grog pouts at the thought of being refused ale. No surprise there. 

“And what’s your motive?” Percy wonders out loud. He already knows the answer and Scanlan just raises an eyebrow implying the same. 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Point taken.” Percy shakes his head, takes a step back from Grog but that doesn’t mean he’s not craning his neck to stare up at him. “If you have to come along, be my guest. I just need to get something from my workshop. That is all.” Scanlan shrugs at Grog. Grog shrugs back. Scanlan shrugs again. So does Grog. Percy’s already sick of this so he just starts walking and they follow whispering not so inconspicuously. He still choses to block him out.

Once back at the workshop he engages the safety door; not ideal but at least it wards off snoopers. He walks over to his work bench, sits down and pulls open one of the drawers under it. He pulls out two bands of precious metal, notices they’re a bit dirty and quickly cleans them with a rag. He sees Scanlan peeking around the corner. The gnome knows not to enter his workshop but Grog has no such reservations, not even when he tried to ingest some very caustic materials. 

“Ooh! What are those for?” Grog exclaims trying to peak over his shoulder. 

“What? What is it Grog? Get out of the way I can’t see. Ugh.” Scanlan tries to look around the goliath blocking his view right now. 

“Nothing concerning you.” Percy replies but Grog talks over him.

“They’re fancy rings. Super shiny.” He says and Percy just sighs, pockets the set of rings and gets up walking around Grog and back towards the doorway. 

“You’ve been making some jewelled cock rings or something? I might have a commission for ya. Something with diamonds-“ Scanlan keeps going but Percy tunes him out. He’s had plenty of time to practice ignoring the bard after all. They continue their journey to the tavern Vox Machina had chosen.

The Tavern is already lively with people and music by the time they enter. The rest of Vox Machina had already taken up a table and safeguarded it from any thieves with death stares for those who didn’t recognise them. They’d already started dwindling the top shelf by the looks of it. You’re leaning your elbow on the back of Vex’ chair as she plays a game with Keyleth. You point at a card but in doing so, with some sleight of hand exchange it for Vex to gain the better hand. You haven’t noticed him yet, or so it seems. So Percy casually walks up beside you, lets his hand drift to your back to draw your attention and when you look over your shoulder, whatever words he wanted to say, fall completely silent. His lips part but no words leave. You chuckle and rise fully, brush your fingers along his arm and press your lips to his in a greeting. 

“Hello to you too.” You grin when you pull back and Percy’s somewhat come to his senses. You pass some coins to Vex who takes them with a ‘thank you, darling’ and keeps playing her card game with the druid. 

“What was that for?” 

“Well, I may or may not have lost a bet.” You lace your fingers with his and pull him along to the abandoned seats only to see yours has been dragged off to another table. You have half the mind to demand it back but haven’t had nearly enough to drink to start a tavern brawl this early into the night, so you just push Percy to sit in the remaining empty chair and sit yourself down across his lap. 

“Do elaborate.” His arm wraps around your waist as you lean over the table to grab the bottle of wine and an empt glass. You pour a drink and hand it to him while Pike slides over your own glass and you wink a thanks. She raises her cup. 

“Vex said you’d walk through the door willingly because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. I said Grog would drag you by the back of your coat while Scanlan loudly announced our esteemed presence to this good folk in song.” He gives you a disapproving look. You hide your smile behind your glass. “Oh please, not as if it would have been unlikely.” The look fades very slowly as it only puts more truth to your statement. Were it any other situation he might have been the victim of just such a scene. 

“I don’t get it! Why do you always keep winning?” Keyleth hiccups and Pike and you share a look as the cleric quickly takes Keyleth’s cup, downs it, and fills it with water before putting it back in its previous place. You exchange a nod. 

“That’s because she’s cheating.” Vex might as well have shot him then and there given the look Percy receives at his comment. 

“Are you calling me a cheater, Percy?” Her eyes narrow leading you to interpose yourself between the two; an easily achieved feat given you’re in his lap. You tap his arm, telling him to let it go.

“I’m merely saying you apply different rules to the game than commonly accepted.” 

“I knew Vex wasn’t cheating.” Grog mumbles but gets his bubble burst pretty quickly. He still doesn’t get it though. An argument ensues though none of it serious. Keyleth tries to steal a card from the deck using her druidcraft but doesn’t pan out well. To be fair, drunk Keyleth and magic use have not and will never go well together, Voice of the Tempest or not. Before you know it some other patrons rather rudely insists you and your friends take this elsewhere or they’ll make you. You should have known the moment Grog smiled, this wouldn’t end well. And in a matter of seconds a fight ensued. It spread like wildfire like any tavern brawl does. You let them fight it out, stay seated with Percy as you two clink your glasses together. 

“So how has your day been?”

“Uneventful until now.” Percy speaks casually. “And yours?” You bite the inside of your cheek in the way he knows you to do when you’re trying to formulate a nice answer as opposed to a more unfiltered one. 

“Eventful. Given our friends arrived a couple of hours ago. You’re welcome by the way. I managed to keep them from exploring the clocktower on their own.” You take a sip of your wine. 

“Oh thank the gods.” He breathes in relief. You spared him a likely disaster. “How will I ever repay you?” He adds a bit more dramatically. Maybe it’s the wine. You laugh. 

“Marry me?” Were he less schooled in proper etiquette he might have spewed across the table. He looks around but no caught on, they’re too occupied in the fight. You’re content being a witness for now it seemed. Percy worries you might have caught on somehow, that you might have figured it out but you don’t let anything show. “I’m joking. Partially. One day. If you ask nicely but for now, think we should help them out?” You gesture to the tavern-wide brawl and save the bottle you two were sharing before someone is thrown onto the table and pummelled right in the face by Pike. 

“Yes. You’re probably right.” He blurts out and downs his whole glass. You down the last bit of your glass, a large swig from the bottle and get up. You offer your hand. Percy takes it as well as  the bottle as you help him to his feet. He feels like he is going to need that booze to deal with the near heart attack you gave him but before he can take a swig of his own he’s forced to turn the bottle into a weapon. Quickly he turns it in his grasp and hits it over the head of some man charging for the both of you. The man didn’t see the blow coming and glass shatters along with the remaining liquid inside. 

“What a waste of a perfectly good chardonnay.” You pout. 

“I’ll get you a new one.” He’ll buy you a whole cellar’s worth if you want. He might actually… 

“My hero.” You joke pulling Percy aside and aiming a high kick at the face of another drunkard coming for the two of you. You peck his cheeks before the fight continues and you’re no longer able to have this brief bubble of solitude. You’re in the fray now but you’re in it together. Together and you kick some ass. It’s magnificent and just as he had thought, it does feel like old times. You’re having a grand old time. He’s not ashamed to admit you saved his ass when he got a little sentimental and couldn’t shake a certain memory or simply stopped to admire your magnificence. 

But all good things get even better when the guard shows up and Vox Machina ends up running like some juvenile troublemakers. The guards didn’t notice who you were and you doubt any of you look like the respected and well known group of heroes in this state and so you took advantage of this. Scram! You ran and enjoyed losing their trail but as a group of stumbling oafs that’s an incredibly difficult thing to do and so you separated. You stuck with Percy pulling him into alleyway and street though he could have pointed out the fastest and quickest way back to the castle. It’s his city after all but he enjoyed living in this moment and when you pushed him against the wall a couple of times pressing close to him while trying to cover your own giggles, you were simply adorable. He was going to make this moment last. By the time you got closer to the castle district you’d been going so long what little booze you had had all but faded. 

“So how about we continue this inside over a bottle of true top shelf from Emon? I brought some from my last visit. I think you’ll appreciate the vintage.” The two of you begin to climb the stairs of Whitestone Castle. 

“That’s a fantastic idea…” You nod satisfied with his answer. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Percy can feel the blood pumping in his ears, his entire body is pulsing. He feels short of breath, and everything is just chaos but so right at the same time. You look over the city. 

“Did you hear that?” You wonder but Percy gently grabs your chin, turns you to face him and standing level with you; the castle to one side, the town to the other. This is it. This is the moment. 

“Tonight was quite enjoyable. I’ve missed times like these. My fondest memories are in the trivial things. I couldn’t help but reminisce-“ You smile and bring your palm up to cup his cheek. 

“Is that why you almost got a barrel to the head and thrown through a window? Because you got distracted?” You jest and peck your lips to his briefly brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. 

“I’m trying to say something nice and you’re making a fool out of me.” He returns in jest. 

“Okay okay. I’m listening. Please continue proclaiming your undying love for me.” He lets his fingers slip into your hair and gives an ever so light tug. “Oi!” You exclaim and roll your eyes at him but smile. You’ve had your fun. He knows you’re joking but little did you know in part that was very much his intention. The irony. He’ll forever hold it over your head. As you would want and expect him to do. He needs to keep you on your toes after all, or you might accuse him of slacking on the job. 

“I’ve not been the partner I should have been for the last few days. I’m aware of my flaws and you have put up with them, you’ve scolded me for them and pulled me out of my own insanities. You keep me walking the path I did not ever think I could. I owe my life, my home, my world to you and I could not ever repay you for what you have given me. I feel my life would be duller without you in it. I’d be lost with out you. Perhaps it is selfish of me to think so but I would love to have you at my side, to be at your side for the rest of our lives.” Rarely does he get you speechless. You always have something to say, some witty remark, some teasing quip or just some input. He’s always welcomed it. He always will but now it is your turn stand there wide-eyed processing his words, lips parted ever so lightly. You had been stroking your thumb along his cheekbone before but your motions had frozen. You try to formulate a response and he awaits patiently. 

“If you’re selfish then so am I. Let us be selfish together.” You smile and pull him into a deep kiss. He still hadn’t asked the question he intended to ask but he’ll take this moment. He gets caught up in it for a while until he breaks the kiss. He leans your head against his, reaches into his breast pocket. Your eyes dart to the side but you decide to ignore whatever caught your attention. He takes one of your hands and within it you feel something cold and metal. 

“Will you marry me?” Percy breathes. This is not what he intended or how he intended it to go but he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t analyse it to death. He couldn’t plan every single detail. This, this was just perfect. No grand displays, no banquet or a fancy ball. Instead it was a night out with a tavern brawl and a run from the authorities. It was perfect and now here, on the steps of his home, at the root of his life in this moment he entangles it with you. 

You look down, at the rings in your hand; two of them, one beautifully detailed but not ostentatious. The set stones are precious and enhance the design. The other is a slightly simpler version, more muted but still beautifully made. You’ve never seen anything like it. They’re unique and that’s when you realise what they’re made from. Your first job with Vox Machina. Percy had given his share to Vex as he always tended to do with his earnings. She resided over the finances. You’d come across a beautifully made silver broach, large and very ostentatious made from platinum and set with the most gaudy aquamarine and diamonds. You’d told him he should keep it; because you thought it matched his eyes and should he ever need a rainy day fund, that piece would make him a king for a day. He’d kept it. He’d kept it all these years. The stones had been cut down to smaller ones and the platinum melted to form the bands. They’re beautiful. They’re perfect and you know Percy well enough he would have trusted no jeweller with this task. He’d have trusted non but his own hands. 

“You made these?” You ask enthralled as you pick up the simpler of the bands. 

“Yes.” He’s practically shaking in anticipation. You take his hand, and place the ring around his finger. 

“If you even for a single second-“ His heart beats so fast he thinks he might pass out. He’d almost be more content facing the Briarwoods as opposed to dealing with this stress. 

“Of course I’ll marry you.” Percy feels like he can breathe again. 

“Oh thank the gods. I thought I might have fainted.” He chuckles as he takes the remaining ring from your palm and places it on your own finger. 

“I’d have caught you.” The image passes through his mind.

“Before or after you had a laugh?” He never said it was a graceful image. 

“Can’t have my husband-to-be mess up his handsome face, now can I?” You grin and press your lips to his entwining your hands. That satisfying feeling; of that cold metal against your skin, and feeling it on his, that’s something out of this world you could not have begun to describe. 

“Excuse me?! You were going to propose all this time and made us miss like half if it?” Scanlan pushes forward, clothes stained by you don’t even want to know what. “I would have made an awesome show! We could have had fireworks, music, hell, I’d even teach Grog an interpretive dance.”

“Intentrepative what now?” The goliath seems more focussed on the leaking barrel of ale on his shoulder. 

“Wait you’re engaged? To who?” Keyleth clearly hasn’t sobered up yet and is leaning on Vex who just pats the girl’s arm. 

“Let’s get you sobered up, Keyleth.” She begins dragging the druid past you and up to the palace but not without a quick “Congratulations.” and the implication of leaving you to enjoy your moment. 

“I’m officiating.” Pike follows suit and begins ushering the others forward as well. You watch them make their way up the stairs. 

“That’s our life in a nutshell, right there.” You claim. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” He takes a step forward and your entwined hands urge you to join. You do without a moment of hesitation, unable to wipe that smile of your face. Neither can Percy by the looks of it. That’s okay. You can be fools tonight. You’ll be fools in the morning still and when people come knocking. You’ll tell them to fuck off and be fools a moment longer. 

“You sure you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” You ask jokingly. 

“Oh yes.” That’ll do. 

[stealingyourbones]

Ask the writer ask game! Tagged by @gremlin-bot

1.) how many works do you have on ao3?

8!

2.) what’s your total ao3 word count?

50k!

3.) what fandoms do you write for?

Primarily DPxDC but I enjoy writing DC and I greatly enjoy writing D&D campaigns!

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Falling in Love (In the Most Literal Sense)

Short DPxDC Prompts

I've Grown a Mouth So Sharp and Cruel (It's All That I Can Give To You)

What the Hell?! (UP FOR ADOPTION)

Dream of a Peaceful Slumber

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I’m simply too busy with my tumblr to respond to people on ao3. If I try to focus on more than one website at a time I’ll lose my mind 😅. I promise I Look at each and every one!

6.) what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

There’s a sander sides fic i wrote like 8 years ago that had all of the sides get slowly and very brutally murdered one by one in hella graphic detail. I was trying to experiment with descriptors and visuals at that time. Definitely that one. I don’t think it’s on ao3 but it’s somewhere on my old Wattpad account

7.) what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely Falling In Love (In The Most Literal Sense) or an unpublished eldritch smut horror DeadOnMain fic that’s forever staying in WIP hell. Falling In Love first and foremost has an ending, secondly they get along and it’s cute :)

8.) do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I occasionally get questions or criticism on my tumblr but that’s either advice or someone wanting answers and that isn’t hate.

9.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have tried my hand at smut before. Mostly smutty scenes with kinda sorta fade to black, solely because I’m terrible at painting a mental picture for the reader so it always flows terribly. I’ve written that eldritch DeadOnMain thing as I said previously, and some of Jason’s matches Malone persona OF ideas.

10.) do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one?

Somewhere in my WIPs there is a homestuck AU DPxDC fic where DP kids are the humans and DC folks (primarily the teen titans) are the trolls. Definitely that one.

11.) have you ever had a fic stolen?

No fics but I’ve been sent asks that are word for word one of my prompts. I just delete those and go on with my day. Idk I don’t have a tiktok and someone’s probably imitating me on there with my prompts so possibly????

12.) have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13.) have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!! I’ve Grown A Mouth So Sharp And Cruel (It’s All That I Can Give To You My Dear) (eventually I’ll get around to working on it I have so much stuff going on like preparing to move and finals creeping up aUGH)

14.) what’s your all time fav ship?

Ooooo It’s a solid tie between Kon/Tim and Dave/Karkat. One is my current favorite and the other is one that’s been my favorite ship for the longest time.

15.) what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I have a WIP in my files that’s a DPxDC Dash/Danny fic where Dash is a bomb disposal tech and Danny just moved into Gotham. I have the entire outline written and almost a solid chapter done but I heavily doubt I’ll have the motivation to touch it again.

16.) what are your writing strengths?

I don’t think I have any, (I haven’t written a full length fic in so long I can’t really tell 😅) but I’m very good at setting tone. Idk what do y’all think?

17.) writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. 100% dialogue. It always feels clunky and unconversational whenever I read it back. I swear the second I start writing talking I forget how conversations work.

18.) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’d probably throw a simple word here in there of the other language if I’m writing a bilingual speaker or ask a pal to help me with translations because I only know English and I know damn well that friends are better translators than google.

19.) first fandom you wrote for?

Sander Sides! I wrote a solid 500ish prompts for that fandom and like 70k worth of fics. It was what got me into writing and for that I’m so very glad.

20.) Fav fic you’ve ever written?

Definitely my Batman mermaid au. I love it to bits and I’m so proud of the designs and I’m always kinda sad that I’m the only one as enthused about this work as I am. None the less I reread it at least every 3 months and it always makes me smile doing so.

Ooo who to tag… @chromatographic @halfagone @susiron

[stayandcozy]

Chapter 0: Birds of…

Chapter Summary: Solana navigates a difficult situation as she seeks to support herself and her mother. Facing tough choices, she has an unexpected breakthrough that brings a sense of hope and change, offering her a glimpse of a brighter future.

WORD COUNT: 3715

Masterlist

Characters

Next Chapter

“You’re missing a hundred and seventy three dollars Solana. I made an exception for your mother last month but I can’t do it again. I need you to get the rest to me by tonight.” 

Fuck. Saturdays. What a shame such a beautiful day had to be ruined by that god awful, unrelenting fire in me every other Saturday seemed to bring. I could hear my mom’s voice in my head as the feelings bubbled to the surface. Think of the best thing that happened to you today. Even with her aged face, Mom’s beauty never faltered. That’s because it shines brightly from within. Something that wasn’t biological, apparently. 

I looked Mr. Romaro in the eyes, gauging if there was any way he was bluffing but I only found his lips thinned in a line and the hint of sorrow behind his spectacles. 

When I leaned my head back to take a breath, I saw the water damage littered on the ceiling. He needed the money just as badly as I did. I tried to think back over my day, quick flashes of blurred memories passed behind my eyes. Then one came in clear. It was of my favorite old lady, other than my mom, smiling fondly at me as I tried to get change for my pack of gum. When she realized I didn’t have enough she slid it across the counter and nodded her head in acknowledgment. 

“Alright. I’ll see you later then Mr. Romaro. I’m sorry about th—”

“It’s okay Solana. Tonight, alright?”

The need to scream and slam my fist against the brick wall outside tempted me. But we didn’t need a broken hand on top of everything else. 

Navigating the streets of New York should have been second nature to me. But it wasn’t. I hated the way sweaty bodies pressed up against me. I hated the way men walked through the streets like they owned it. I mostly hated that it was Saturday in the city. And I couldn’t enjoy the warm weather and blue skies because all I could think about was how later that night I’d have to see my mom’s exhausted and downhearted face. 

Mom knew me better than anyone and because of that it was no surprise she could see how miserable I’ve been the last three years. Whenever I’d manage to get cast, our rent would be due and I’d have to leave the project to take on odd jobs. It wasn’t mom’s fault, she provided the best she could. But I know those nights of hearing me sob ate her insides alive until she was nothing but skin and bones. 

I should have rejected her proposal. I knew better. But when she was sitting on the couch, her knees touching mine, with my face in her hands… I don’t think even the coldest of men could have said no to her. I wish I could have been cold. Because now we were here on a miserable fucking Saturday. Missing rent money, behind on credit cards, all because mom wanted me to chase my dreams. But when have dreams ever paid the bills?

“Mom, are you home?” I called out while entering the apartment.

Nothing but the leaky drip in the corner and the muffled dialogue of some old rerun on the tv. I clicked it off and sat on the couch. The metallic thunk of the water hitting the bucket was beckoning me into a sleep state. One I so desperately wanted to give into. Just as my eyes became too heavy to fight, a jingling of keys and mumbled curse words sounded just behind the front door. My body went on autopilot trying to sit up, arising like a vampire and trying to blink the verge of sleep away. 

“—you know that's not fair, Mike. I have been with you guys for years! Fucking years! You can’t just—No I won’t, you don’t—No, Mike, you fucking don’t—I’ve been a great team member—Then what is it about? Don’t you dare end this conversation—Mike!”

Mom threw the mail in her arms and kicked at one floating down. “God damnit all to hell!” Mom never used to swear. She did a lot these days. It was surreal to see first hand what the pressure of money did to happy people. 

“Mike fired you?” I asked. As if caught with her hand in the cookie jar her eyes widened and she flinched. 

“Jeez Lana, you scared me. Aren’t you supposed to be at a reading?”

”Went with another actor. All good. Hey momma, did you accidentally leave out some money from rent?”

”I thought he’d maybe let it slide. He wasn’t mean to you was he?”

”No. Do you happen to have it? Mr. Romaro says he’ll give us until midnight to get it to him.” 

She started rummaging through her purse, frantically pulling out ones and a few fives. “Come here Sunshine, can you help me count while I look?”

I hummed a response and crawled over to where she had thrown the mail. Picking it up and tapping it on the counter, I stacked the pile and set it down. Large red letters glared back at me. I used to love the color red, until I found out the way banks highlight phrases in red to scare you. Now all I can see in it is a threatening undertone that makes me uncomfortable. I flipped the top one upside down. Mom then handed me the cash from her purse and walked into the kitchen. I sat and counted. One, two, three, four, five, ten, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. She opened the fridge and brought out a short metal cylinder. One of those ones rich people liked to make ice cream in. God, what I would give for her only worries be about what kind of ice cream she was going to make this week. 

“I swear I had something here—Lana did you take it?”

”We used that to pay for electricity. What about the safe in your room?”

”Yeah… Let me go see.”

Time was against me. Drive I had, and passion consumed me. Yet my time to break into the industry never came. If I didn’t land something consistent soon, Mom was going to die in this shitty apartment. She does so much for others, the very least I could do is take her far away from here. Somewhere where the rain is a welcomed friend, not a deathly worry. 

“I needed to pay back Mrs. Esters for the food she gave us. The safe money is gone too.” She paused, her eyes scanning the kitchen and living. “Okay! Um.. What about…the couch! We find money in there sometimes!” She finally says. 

Before I could get up, she was already tearing off the cushions of the loveseat and throwing them near me. A half laugh fell from my lips seeing her pull an old pair of glasses from the depths of the worn couch. She tossed them aside and kept digging. The pile of cash felt magnetic to my eyes. I vowed to myself and Mom that I wouldn’t go back to that abomination they called a “Dance House,” but seeing the crushing desperation in Mom, it became clear. I was going to have to go back to Danny if we wanted to keep good standing with Mr. Romaro. 

She finally stood up, her hair flying out in wild ways, she was breathing a little heavy. Fuck. Not in the shitty apartment. She deserves better. “I think I’d rather have found nothing than a few coins and a dollar.” 

Mom’s pupils were blown and though she held a positive demeanor, I could see the panic swirling behind them. So I did what she taught me to do, smile when you think people need it. Her shoulders dropped slightly and her eyes got shiny.

“It’ll be okay Momma. I think Mrs. Abbadi has some work for me. I talked to her earlier at the gas station. I’ll go swing by. Can I borrow your backpack?”

“Sure Sunshine.”

She headed towards the bedroom and I leapt up. One of Mom’s quirks, one we often laughed about, was her short term memory loss. The backpack was hanging on the hook near the door. I had probably two minutes before she got upset and came back out. The problem with living in a one bedroom apartment with your parent was the lack of privacy. All of my clothes were in a big trunk we used as a coffee table. I opened it and dug through the piles until I found the lacy black set I was looking for. That set always made me the most money. It was my desperation set. I snagged a jacket and bundled the lingerie inside, checking over my shoulder just in time to see mom coming out again.

“—tell me how a backpack just disappears!”

“All good, I don’t need it.”

“Why are you bringing a jacket? It’s 85 out.”

“Just in case, you never know.”

She narrowed her eyes, and it felt like I was cemented in place by some sort of maternal magic. Her gaze was reaching deep into my soul, and I begged, pleaded, for some divine power to blind her just this once. Only when she released her breath did I release mine. I turned on my heel, desperate to get away from her all knowing eyes, but before I could reach the door, she stopped me.

“Come here.” She said. I felt panic rise in me. Then she turned me around and planted a soft loving kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry. I love you. Better days will come for us.” 

The panic morphed into guilt and my eyes felt tingly. “I love you too Mom.” I hoped she couldn’t hear the quiver laced in my voice, and even more so, I hoped she didn’t see the backpack hanging. 

Red Lights was the name of New York's scummiest strip club. The building itself was actually really clean for such a dirty place. If it wasn’t for slimy men and god awful management, the neon lights and dancing girls would have been a welcomed scene. Before my dreams of voice acting, I saw myself like many young girls do, as a ballerina. Dancing was rejuvenating. But when the hard times came, it was one of the many things tainted for me. 

The street that held Red Lights wasn’t the safest. People lingered around the bars. A drugged out woman would pass by swaying into you trying to pick a fight. A man would cat call you across the street, then get angry when you ignored him. It was always the worst nights at the club when they would follow me in. They never gave money and always got too handsy. 

Dusk was coming as I turned the corner to the infamous street. A group of men stood outside the club with their arms crossed. I could see Danny, a man much smaller than them, push one back. He only tripped a little but it was enough for it to clearly offend the drunk man. I walked up to them just as Danny’s meathead came out. He chased them off and returned to a position by the door. 

“No fuckin’ way, ain’t it the brightest day in hell whens you come around Sunny.” Laughed Danny as he opened the door for me. 

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that.”

“Awww—Ma still the only one allowed?”

“Do you have room for an extra dancer? Tonight only.”

“Just your luck. Destiny called in, told me shes got herself the fuckin’ clap.”

“Yeah. Lucky me.”

“Though you wanna only do tonight yeah? I’ll have to charge an uprated fee for the space. I’m feelin’ nice. Sixty.”

“Jesus Danny, last time it was only forty dollars—”

“No, no, no, no. You misunderstand me. Sixty percent.”

“What the hell? Since when?”

“Since now. Or ya know,  you could always sign with the club. I’d be happy to drop you to the normal rate then.”

“Fuck you.”

“ Now that’s a pretty idea too Sunny. Maybe if you suck me off real nice I’ll think about dropping it.”

“Fuck. You.”

I balled my fist in my hand, using every ounce of will power in me to not slap Danny’s smug face. The brute outside surely wouldn’t have cared if he had to hit me. He’s done it to plenty of the other girls when Danny didn’t get his way. I turned to leave but the jacket in my hands became heavy. Mom crossed my mind. Would she be horrified to know what I was doing to stop our eviction? It was stupid of me to even entertain. I could feel Danny’s presence behind me. It was as if I had an angel and devil sandwiching me. The angel was calling to me in my subconscious telling me not to turn around. But the devil behind me, painted images in my head of my mom, sick and starving on the streets. So I turned around.

“You can have your sixty percent, but I’d sooner die than blow you. Poor Destiny probably got chlamydia from you.”

I braced myself for the slap I thought was inevitably coming but he just laughed off the insult and tapped my butt a few times. 

“Better take some private rooms tonight. You may not be fuckin’ me tonight but you will be fuckin’ someone.” He howled with more laughter as he walked off. 

When Danny’s soul was being created, I like to think that they added too much narcissism and slime, then accidentally sent him off unfinished. Because that’s all the man was. Plump like a  ball of disease, horniness and an ego that rivaled even Napoleon. Don’t let him shake you, Solana. A cold shower could wash off the sweat from dancing. But it would never take away the dirt he slathered on me.  

While walking to the back I peeked into the main room. Flashing pink and red lights lit up the audience, and within the crowd I could see a few of the regulars. They paid well for private dancing except rooms with them often held little dancing. So I agreed with myself, to only use them as a last resort. I waved to a few of the girls I knew and made my way to the dressing room. The Red Light Club made an obscene amount of money, so I knew it was simply Danny's perverted idea to have no bathrooms, stalls, or any sort of privacy for the girls in the club. If the dancers needed to pee, they would go to the public one where men could get a free mini show. Or if the dancers needed to change, they would have to strip in front of one another. It was an act that didn’t bug most of them. I wasn’t most. 

I felt humiliated as the girls watched me undress in the mirror. None of them ever said anything negative to me, in fact they often would try to boost my confidence before my turn. What kind of sick person does something so dehumanizing, complain about it, then comes back over and over again. Red Light had its claws in me. And much like how my mom gave her life to that diner, if I didn’t get out, I was going to give my life to this club. 

Latex was a very popular choice for the dancers to wear. Every single time I brought out the same simple black lace teddy, I felt insecure. Looking in the mirror, I figdeted with the fabric near my breasts. I only needed to do a few hours on stage and maybe a few private dances. I could do it. The corners of my eyes started to itch and I stared as the stray tear rolled down my face. 

“Hey Solana, Danny says you’re on in two,” said a short and curvy blonde woman. 

I tapped the wetness on my face away and she gave me a sympathetic look. I didn’t need her pity. I needed to make money. Because it was Saturday and on Saturday the bills were due. 

We started to head out of the room when a phone started ringing. I looked behind me but a few of the girls were looking to my phone and then me. Fuck, Mom is probably trying to check in. I should let her know I’m okay. I’d just be lying to her again. 

“Sorry it’s my mom. It’ll just be a second.”

The blonde tightened her lips in a line as if my request was personally affecting her. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and turn to my phone. On the screen I expected to see my moms little emoji, but it wasn’t her. It was my talent manager Audrey. Maybe she was letting me know about another role gone from me. Bitterness swept through me like a wave and I thought about rejecting the call. However, the angels voice, who sounded so much like mom, asked me to answer. What if this was the one. It kept ringing, and I couldn’t make up my mind on time. Soon the ringing ended. 

“Solana, come on. Dannys gonna freak.” The girl said. 

Angel and devil.

I hurriedly looked throughout the room until I recognized one of the girls.

“Nicki! Can you switch slots with me?”

“Um. Yeah? Everything okay?” She asked.

“I don’t know yet. Ask me when you get off stage.” 

There was only one other girl in the room after they left. So with a deep breath I clicked Audreys number. The phone rang and rang. Then when I thought it would click off she answered. Five seconds passed before she spoke.

“Solana Pavlov, oh the woman you are. I’m freaking out for you. God I have such great news. You know that stoic character we sent in for like five months ago?”

“I thought you said they went with other actors?”

“Well, I just didn’t hear from them. I mean after three months would you keep waiting?”

“No.”

“No. Exactly. Anyways they got back to me. They want you Solana! They really, really, really. Want you!”

All of the air in my chest felt like it was punched out of me. No way. Me?

“A—are you positive Audrey? Wasn’t this the international one?” 

“Yup and yup! Don’t hate me for this but I’ve already told them yes.”

Something new inside me sparked. I felt bright. My tears welled again, but finally for a good reason.

“That’s…perfect. Thank you Audrey. This is a lot to take in. I need to go share the news with my mom.”

“Tell Mama Pavlov I say hi. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Theres a lot of information you’ll want. But for now, enjoy your moment. I’ll be in touch—”

“—wait! Audrey I have a huge favor to ask. Can you ask them for an advancement of payment? Just like two hundred dollars?”

She was quiet on the line for a bit and I worried if I had overstepped. “I just sent you five. Go take your mom to a nice dinner on me.” 

“What? No, that's way too generous—” Click. She had hung up on me. A sliver of me wanted to feel uncomfortable with the gesture, but the excitement won over when I heard the ding of a notification. It was Audrey’s venmo coming in. Attached was a little note, ‘I knew you could do it.’ 

I don’t think I could have changed out of my clothes faster. If there was an olympic sport, I surely would have been a medalist. Giddiness tingled over my body, and noises of excitement spilled from me like a child unable to control their emotions. 

It was easy finding an ATM to deposit the cash. It was easying making my way to Mr. Romaros office. And it felt blissful to see his surprised face when I came in with an envelope in my hand. We didn’t exchange many words, he just held a small smile as he watched me count it out to him. 

“You seem happy tonight,” he said.

“I am,” I responded.

Taking the bus at night was better than the day. Less people meant more energy for my mind to wander. My normal grey thoughts were exceptionally vibrant and I thought about the potential future overseas. In this moment, I felt like I was dancing with life once more. 

I started walking towards our building and shifted the weight of my jacket. Doing so unbundled the lingerie and out fell the black lace. When I reached down to pick it up, the garbage bins caught my eye. If I was wrong about this… If it didn't work out… I turned off my thoughts and threw the set into the bin. A token of trust. A new promise for me and my mom. I’ll do it this time. For us.

I didn’t mean to barrel into our apartment like a bullet. I was just excited. Can you blame me? I was nearly leaping up the stairs to the fifth floor. Inside, my mom groggily awoke from her slumber on the couch. I bounced over to her and kneeled by the couch. She had the pair of glasses she found on. I smiled at her. And she knew, like her all knowing eyes always do, that something had changed in me. She placed her hand on my cheek and I placed mine atop hers. 

“Good day?” She asked.

“A perfect day.” I said. 

“I’m glad to hear that Sunshine.”

“Can I sleep out here with you tonight?”

“Of course.”

I went to grab a blanket from her bed. On her nightstand she had a small digital clock. It read 11:57 pm. It was still Saturday. 

I came back to the living room with a smile on my face and a lightness in my heart. My makeshift bed next to mom wasn’t perfect. Hell it was barely comfortable. But seeing her sleeping face, with a ghost of a smile made everything perfect. That night I fell asleep holding my moms hand and I couldn’t wait to tell her about how good Saturday was.

AUTHOR NOTE: (Stay)

Wow! I can’t believe it’s finally here. I’m so happy to introduce you to Solana. I hope you follow us through this story. It’s a long one. (:

We’d love your support on Wattpad, if you could vote and comment on our story. You can find us on Wattpad here.

[ryncorrect]

The Ssum 2 is actually... not that bad?

It has been 14-ish days since The Ssum: Love From Today (or The Ssum Season 2 if we must) was released. We were introduced to a new character named June, a blonde cutie pie that looks kinda sad (?) and fragile (?) and reminds me of Yoosung from the very first picture release. His voice and the way he talks even gives off Yoosung vibe even more. The spoiler stated, “He has ties to someone from Mystic Messenger,” and I was like, OKAY YOOSUNG????? Or perhaps a little far off, RIKA????? Then bam it’s actually—welp if you haven’t played it yet then I’ll let you find it out yourself lol

The revelation received mixed reaction from “wtf” to “WTF??” and I gotta admit I was one of them who was like,,,,, why,,,,, but it didn’t get to make me stop playing June route because:

- The writing in this season actually gets better

Teo route was boring af (spoiler alert?) boi kept doing part time jobs, we got two couple fights that didn’t even make sense, and somehow he ended up getting involved in a cult like ??????? I know they were trying to build a slow pacing relationship that lasted 200 days and added many “realistic” things but fam this aint it. And don’t get me started with the waiting time in between his chats, like 20+ minutes to wait for him climbing a hill, in a bed time chat? Nah fuk u man

Harry route.... god I hate don’t like it very much because 1) he doesn’t make it easy for me at all, 2) some of MC options in the chat are either gold-diggerish, or very jealous, or mean, or ignorant, and I don’t wanna be that kinda person

Don’t get me wrong, Teo and Harry are good characters and their designs are cool but the storytelling... is really all over the place

Since the writer from Cheritz’s previous games including Mysme is making a comeback in this season for June, playing his route now I can really see the difference. June started off falling in love instantly for MC and in only like 5 days I found out he has terminal disease. Nice. Tragic and angsty and very Mysme of you, June

BUT other than that, the conversation flows nicely, not too short and too long, the waiting time is reasonable, and I love how we get to talk about the planets thing in the chat; MC telling June to write in Gratitude Diary, June telling MC that he likes to read stuffs in Root of Desire, Piu-Piu advising us to look around the planets as we wait for June. It makes a huge difference for me. The whole meeting-a-fateful-stranger-in-some-random-app concept feels more realistic, and those planets are now part of the story and not just there to... exist. Though, it does make me wonder if June has this battery thing going on for him too, and if that’s why he doesn’t call us as often as Teo used to (but I’m still on day 10 and he’s currently trying to recover his health, so perhaps he probably just doesn’t get the energy and time to call us often lolol)

AND I KINDA LIKE PIU-PIU HERE. It feels... useful and friendly now. Piu-Piu in Teo route feels like a mean sassy bird and Piu-Piu in Harry route is just weird and likes to invade people’s privacy

- June having ties with Mysme character

Yes, this is also another reason I keep playing. Finding out that this new lovable character has a relationship with one of my favorite characters from one of my favorite games? I’m sold. I don’t care if this is just some way of Cheritz to get Mysme players into The Ssum. They have the right to do so—I mean it’s their game??? Some people are also saying that Cheritz should just release another contents for Mysme rather than doing this with The Ssum, and I think that’s valid. But Mysme has been running for years already, and keeping an otome game around for this long must be very hard. Releasing another content for Mysme means that Cheritz must gather their old writers, old artists, and old voice actors and perhaps they don’t have the resources to do so

Ofc this reason might not be true and Cherits just simply doesn’t want to work on Mysme anymore, and that’s their decision I’d like to respect

Also, if Teo and Harry made me miss Mysme because of their poor writing, June here actually makes me want to play Mysme again because he’s related to ***** and it’s fun being able to see ***** from different perspective

Moreover I’d rather be a gf of June who has half-brother (oops) from Mysme than being Zen’s ex. Wtf was that

And who knows? Maybe we will get another chara who’s related to V next????? Idk tho it might be too much of a stretch but I’m not gonna complain lol

- Cheritz is trying their very best

Them using AI art is wrong, and they have addressed that issue so I won’t repeat it here. I just wanna acknowledge their effort in making a game we would enjoy. They're pretty fast in handling and responding to our complaints, they still give us some battery freebies in the game so people who can't afford batteries or subscription can save them to play, and tbh you don't have to purchase every paid option in the chat too (I know I don't). Some players also share the paid pictures online, so you can decide to pay just for the pictures you wanna keep. We have a friendly and helpful community ;_;

The subscription price is still too much for many players and I myself can’t afford it every month because I have a family to feed, but I try to understand that in the end Cheritz is still an independent company that has to make profit. They have to pay rent, their employees, and people who work with them. I encourage people who can afford to keep supporting them, and those who can’t, I’m sure Cheritz appreciates our support and feedback just as much!

In conclusion, I just love them and I hope they keep up with the hard work

I want to say much more tbh but I’m kinda tired so now I’ll get back to work—while waiting for June for our lunch chat

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Spectacle of Ritual | Carnal XIII

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Spectacle of Ritual - Kali Malone

Johnny ate and he slept. His wound was infected despite the efforts of Simon and Nina. Words gurgled out in frayed sentences that might only make sense to him. He was awake long enough to have Nina feed him broth until exhaustion pulled him back down. 

He woke up to the smell of Nina bleeding, far away. He cried for Simon to find her. He sweated through the sheets thinking of Simon hurting her. It would be his fault. He failed to get food, he failed to protect himself, he failed to protect her.

The sky got dark. Neither of them had come back. He heard them walking about, he thinks. He hadn’t said anything but he believed he’d started hallucinating. Too many sounds, faces became wavy and distorted, conversations repeating over and over and over. He heard Price’s voice. 

His shirt was being lifted up. He flinched at the cold air. A hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down on the bed. Nina was cooing at him to relax.

“Simon do the stitching?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good for him at least.” Price said. A large first aid kit sat on the foot of the bed. “See how red it is? It’s infected. Have him take these twice a day every day.”

Nina nodded along to Price’s instructions. Had they called him? What was the story going to be? A pill was pressed against his lips. He let Nina set it on his tongue as she held a glass of water up next. 

His wound was disinfected and price showed Nina how to change the bandages. 

“Try to get some rest. Simon is out getting food.” She ran a hand over his head. He grabbed her wrist. He lost all his words when he touched her, he could open his mouth but no words could leave it. “I’ll be back soon.”

He wasn’t sure how true her statement was. He fell asleep again. Sleep felt deeper than normal, it was comforting until he remembered the pain in his side. He heard arguing downstairs at one point. Nina and Price. 

“You should have told me!”

“Would you have believed me or would you have had me committed?” 

There was a pause.

“Exactly… they understand. If you didn’t trust them, why did you bring them here?”

“It was a mistake!”

“They’re like me! I’ve never had that. No one is like me.” She was crying. Johnny wanted to get up, he hated hearing her cry. “I want them to stay. Please. John please.”

Their voices were carried away as sleep pushed him back under. 

He woke up to the smell of cedar and breakfast. Nina had a plate of eggs, toast and three slices of thick cut meat pan fried. Simon was sitting in the corner. He looked tired, bags weighing his eyes down more than usual.

“Eat and then you can take your pills.” Nina busied herself with feeding him. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. She looked tired too. Her arms were bandaged up. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.” She assured. “Now eat. Simon got fresh.”

He let her feed him, one bite at a time. Simon’s gaze bored him. Not predatory or loving, just analytical. 

An antibiotic, pain med, something for his fever. He took them like a good patient. She rewarded him with a kiss to his temple before scurrying off back downstairs.

“Price was here.” 

“It’s handled,” Simon said. “He knows now. Promised to keep quiet, mostly for Nina’s sake.”

“She’s a good person.” 

“He gave us leave till New Years. Let you heal up.” Simon ignored his comment. “Once you’re okay we’ll leave.”

“I’m not leaving Si.” The old nickname tasted like brown sugar melting in his mouth. 

“Because she can’t hunt for herself.” Simon frowned. 

“Because I need her.” The conversation that they’d avoided all Summer and Autumn was here now, tripping in before Winter. “I don’t like being alone. I’m happy here when I’m not bleeding out. I hunt, she cooks. It’s worked till now.”

Simon’s gaze had left him to stare out the window. 

“You hurt me, Simon. I loved - still love ya. I still don’t know what I did wrong or why you’re living up to your name and haunting me.” He was always an idealist. He could see Simon staying too. Nina might need convincing but with how loneliness dripped off her like water it wouldn’t take much. Safety in numbers. Some vague memory of psychology class and a hierarchy of needs: food, rest, water then safety followed by companionship. All of that was in this house. 

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” An apology, bare bones, was the best he was going to get. No explanation of how or why. Simon was never a man with many words, his mouth had better things to do. He wanted to feel his mouth again. 

He felt guilty for that. Nina was lovely and he cared about her deeply, loved her possibly. They had their routines when he was around. Eating, lounging, fucking, talking. She wanted to have a picnic when it got warm again. He liked the dresses she always wore. Felt drool pool in his mouth when he saw the backs of her thighs. 

“I miss you.” Simon said, so quiet like he’d meant to say it in his head only. 

“I can ask if you can stay.” Something moved across Simon’s face at his words, hope maybe. “It won’t be the same but I can ask.”

Simon nodded, the corner of his mouth turned up. 

They finally let him get up and walk around that afternoon. Simon was assigned to bathroom duty, making sure he didn’t fall over or tear a stitch. No real shower, just a wet cloth. He was almost glad for it. Felt too intimate to get fully naked in front of him. 

Nina agreed that he could stay for the time being but with strict guidelines. Nina’s hunting rifle and an old shotgun, along with the rifle Simon left in the woods, were moved into a locked cabinet in her father’s office. Nina kept the key on a chain around her neck. 

They moved one of the arm chairs from the living room to the kitchen so Johnny could watch as they butchered up Simon’s kill. 

Nina looked squeamish, green faced whenever the tea towel she’d placed over the face fell. She refused to touch the arms or legs and placed another towel covering the man’s sex. Simon looked annoyed.

“You hunt with Price. He never had you butcher a deer before?”

“Deer don’t look like me.”

“He doesn’t look like you.” Simon lifted the towel of the face. “Ugly bugger.”

“Stop,” She snapped.  He dropped the towel.

“It’s food, love. No different from a pig or chicken or deer.”

“That’s not true.”

Simon came around and stood in front of her. His shoulders were relaxed but it didn’t do much to make him less intimidating. 

“I only kill men who’d want to hurt others. When I grabbed him, he was following a girl down the street. He had a knife on him. You think a deer rapes? Would a deer slit your throat if you screamed? He’s more of a predator than you or me. You kill a deer to feed yourself. He’d kill a girl just to get his cock hard. He’s nothing but food now.”

Simon sliced a sliver off the arm. Johnny was always mesmerized by how well he could make cuts. He mentioned working for a butcher as a teen but this was years of practice. In another life they could have run a butcher shop, one with fancy cheese and other imported foods. He could learn to bake bread. Maybe they’d save up and buy a farm, raise their own animals. Treat them well with open pastures and good grain. 

“Don’t look away.” Simon’s scent was strong, muskier than usual. It was a familiar scent. One that had filled his head every time Simon crawled on top of him. Johnny watched Nina, a defiant look on her face. 

“Simon.” Johnny warned. He always thought he was the hotheaded one yet Simon was the one already testing the limits of Nina’s patience. 

“Don’t act like you’re above this. Like it disgusts you. You’re drooling.” He wiped a bloody finger over her chin, catching the spit slipping from between her lips. He pushed the meat into her mouth. “Eat it.”

He thought she might bite his finger off, when it slid between her lips. Her face changed between anger and desire as she chewed. 

“You don’t have to feel bad about it. We’re all just animals.” Simon turned back to the body and with a decisive move of the clever severed the arm off entirely. The green in her cheeks was replaced with red. 

They had enough to last a week or so. Then Simon would go hunting again. He said they’d bring Nina once Johnny was better. 

“Safer that way,” He said. They’d teach her. She’d need to build strength as well. Regular meals had done her well but she was still half Simon’s size. 

Simon would sleep on the couch downstairs till Nina prepped a room for him. Johnny knew the other bedroom was the master. He’d never seen her go in there. He never asked why. He realised he never really asked Nina anything about her family. They were dead but beyond that, he knew nothing.

She came into his room that night after Simon went to sleep. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, the back of her hand against his forehead. 

“I’m okay.” Her expression was hard to make out in the dark. “I’m sorry about Simon. I can talk to him about giving you space. He’s always been a bit…intense. He’s not evil just a bellend some-”

She kissed him, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip. She tasted like salt and vanilla. He leaned up, wanting to taste more. He winced and she stopped.

“I’m sorry. You should sleep.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. 

He leaned back in bed with a sigh. His cock was stiff now. 

It made him a pervert but he thought about her and Simon when he touched himself. Not even with him, with each other. Simon’s fingers in her mouth as she rode him. They were both gorgeous. He wasn’t wrong for wanting both. Something hard and something soft. He could fit nicely in the middle. 

He came over his hand. He didn’t want to wipe it on the sheets. He was careful getting up and walking to the bathroom, quickly washing it off. 

“You okay, Johnny?” Simon asked as he walked out of the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Just needed a piss.” 

“I can smell it on you.” Simon clapped him on the shoulder as he walked into the bathroom. 

Simon’s hand still smelled like Nina’s mouth. 

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