#I have a few details to add to this eventually but until then

[larkinarting]

Ha Nguyen and the octopus having a special moment while Evrim tears up and Altansetseg grinds her teeth and grips her knife.

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[forpiratereasons]

i found a genre of longform videos that is just 8-10 hours of someone driving around freeways during thunderstorms and i have a lot of thoughts about this but also: stede the driver who films long pov driving vids and extremely stressed ed who gets addicted to his channel

it's meditative, and it reminds ed of being in the car with his mum, driving across aotearoa. he feels like she's there with him sometimes. but the more he watches, the more he becomes aware of the driver--a sigh here, the shuffle of fabric in the seat there.

there's almost no information about him on his channel, the gentleman driver, not even a name or a pic, and ed becomes a little fixated on picking up details about him. doesn't happen often, but once or twice ed catches the driver humming a few beats before falling silent again, clearing a throat, sighing, clicking his throat like he's talking silently to himself.

once, on hour six of a ten hour vid, ed's rewarded by the view of an elegant hand reaching across the screen to grab something that must be on the dash in front of the camera. four seconds ed plays over and over.

"is there someone in the car with you while you drive?" ed asks in a comment. "or is it just you?"

the gentleman driver writes back, "just me and the open road!"

maybe it's the format that makes ed ask, the anonymity. maybe he's just half asleep. "don't you ever get lonely?"

it's days before the gentleman driver writes back again. "do you?"

ed's not got an answer for that. or, he does, but not one he's willing to face head on. he asks instead how the gentleman driver chooses his routes.

the driver doesn't get very many comments and definitely not very many questions, and soon they're having little conversations in the comments of every video. ed gets another glimpse of that elegant hand, with a big turquoise ring, freckled forearm; hears another few bars of 'here comes the sun' hummed.

then the driver does something new: he stops at a rest stop.

and he leaves the camera rolling.

ed watches in rapt fascination as the driver crosses the screen in front of the car, goes into the rest stop. blond hair, broad shoulders, floral shirt. he's actually wearing jeans for an eight hour drive which is insane, and ed gets a glimpse of his profile as he smiles. insane.

if the driver's ever stopped before, it's been very carefully edited out. maybe he forgot this one. maybe he wanted ed to see. that's delusional, ed thinks, but he still navigates to the driver's about page and pokes around until he finds an email address.

nice shirt, he sends.

oh god, the driver sends back, and the video disappears from his page half an hour later. i forgot the editing. i'm sorry if it was distracting.

no, i liked it, ed tells him. it was nice to see the man behind the steering wheel. and then, hesitating only a bit, he adds: i'm ed.

hello, the driver writes. i'm stede.

the emails go on, and on, and eventually they turn into texts too, and promises from stede to check in on his longer drives, to "call if you ever need someone to keep you awake."

"i'm supposed to be sending you to sleep," stede argues.

"i'll sleep better knowing that you're safe," ed writes back.

the next video stede posts, he lets the camera run all the way until he's pulled into a parking spot at a roadside motel just outside of denver. the camera runs one minute, then five, and any reasonable person would've turned it off by now, but ed waits until he hears, very quietly: "safe and sound, now. go to sleep. goodnight."

is it stupid, to think you can fall in love with someone after just one sentence? is it still stupid, if that one sentence repeats at the end of every new video?

then one night the phone rings. it's late, dark out, and ed knows stede was doing a drive that wouldn't have him at his next stop until nearly one in the morning. he picks up. "hello?"

"oh, ed," the voice says. "you've no idea how good you sound just now."

it's a voice he's only heard before in hums and whispers, but it doesn't matter. lots of things about love are stupid, ed decides. this isn't one of them.

stede's blown a tire. "i'm okay," he insists. "i was just hoping for some company while i wait for the tow."

"where are you?"

"middle of nowhere," stede says, but when he names the spot, it's only two hours out. ed can be there faster than a tow probably would, and there's a note of anxiety in stede's voice he doesn't much like.

he's got his shoes on and his keys in his hand before he can think twice.

stede hems and haws but in all his fussing he doesn't actually tell ed not to come, and he stays on the line while ed piles blankets in the car and as he gets behind the wheel and as he sets out on the freeway. he stays on the line and they talk until they're both creaky with exhaustion and dry air, and then they're quiet, just like in stede's videos, but together this time. then ed crests over a hill and there it is: a car pulled off to the side with its hazard lights blinking. reminds ed of a lighthouse. 'i'm here,' the lights say. 'i'm here.'

he pulls to a stop behind, starts his own hazards. the driver side door of the car opens, and then there's a leg, and a body, and there he is. stede. he's still got his phone pressed to his ear; ed can hear him breathing.

"i'm going to get out," ed says.

"okay," stede says.

it takes another long moment, watching stede stand there in the dark, waiting for him. stede, with his hair and his voice and his hands and the way the quiet in him already feels like home.

"i might kiss you," ed says.

he watches stede swallow, hard. eyes widen. "okay," he says.

ed reaches for the handle. pops the door open. puts one foot out on the pavement and looks up to meet stede's eyes as his cabin lights come on, as the car starts to ding its door-open warning.

"oh," stede says.

ed takes a step. they both still have their phones in their hands, their breathes in each other's ear. ed takes a step and takes a step until he can reach out to take stede's phone from him. press the call end button.

"hi," he says.

stede kisses him.

after that there are other, shyer hellos, and other, more awkward ones too. there are ten minutes to a 24-hour macdo drive-thru for coffee and another ten to a motel and a late night that becomes an early morning by way of conversation. there's laughter, and more kisses, and careful fingers learning the planes of each other's faces. in the morning there's breakfast and a tow truck and an invitation to a place just two hours away.

and there's a long break in updates to the gentleman driver's channel.

when he comes back, weeks later, his update schedule isn't quite as frequent, and his drives don't usually go as far. there's giggles sometimes, in the background, like there might be someone else in the car with him.

"do you miss it," ed asks. "driving the long drives?"

"no," stede says. "i found what i was looking for."

*

@ kninjaknitter also podficced this one!

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I have a few fic ideas that would be set when the reader first gets to the Night Court. I also have more Azriel imagines planned that wouldn't be in this series so look out for those! Thank you so much for all of the comments and love on this story, I appreciate it more than you know! <33

Summary: After months of healing, there is still something weighing you down and Azriel wants nothing more than to help you.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: bad body image, nudity but not straight up smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

A few months had passed since everything happened and you were feeling better for the most part. Azriel had more than proved himself and you two were best friends again. You now trained with the Valkyries and enjoyed their company. You had also been helping Amren out with translating old texts a lot lately.

You enjoyed having work to do, you started to feel like your old self again. But there were still a few things that gnawed at you.

The main thing were the scars. The physical reminder of what you went through weighed you down. You covered yourself up as much as you could everyday so no one else saw them.

This seemed to be working for you until one day, Azriel came up to you with a big smirk on his face.

"I got you a present!" the still smirking male told you

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop buying me presents!" you told him

You had never received so many presents in your life and you doubt he has ever given this many. It started out small like bringing you a coffee while you worked, then he would buy you little things here and there like a notebook for your research. Eventually, he was buying you more expensive things like jewelry every other day.

Every time you would tell him you didn't need anything, and every time he responded with the same thing - "I can't help myself, I saw it and thought of you"

The butterflies you would feel were always better than the gifts.

Amren was sitting beside you watching the interaction with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm? A chocolate croissant this morning and now another surprise? Two in one day? Seems like a new record." she spoke in a slightly joking tone, enjoying poking fun at the spymaster

You and Az made eye contact and quickly looked away, a slight blush taking over both of your faces.

After his confession all those months ago, you both began to try and be friends again. You knew he was waiting for you to be ready for more but you weren't sure how to go about it all. It was easier to push those thoughts away for now.

Deciding to help the shadowsinger escape all the joking, you stood up to go to him. He held his hand out to you, and led you up to your room. Before entering, he put his hands over your eyes, using them as a blind fold.

"Is this really necessary?" you giggled

"Of course it is! Now walk forward" he told you and you could hear the smile in his voice

You walked, well shuffled, into your room with him close behind you. He started a countdown.

"3...2...1...Open!" he shouted, removing his hands

On the wall in front of your bed was a brand new mirror. Dread filled your body. The thought of having to see yourself every time you changed made you want to vomit.

Azriel of course noticed the reaction and immediately began to worry.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I knew it was stupid, Cass helped me pick it out and he has the worst taste." Az babbled on.

"No, I love it." You told him. If you let him know you didn't want it, then he would want to know the real reason. You couldn't explain it all to him right now.

He gave you a look that showed he didn't fully believe you but he decided to let it go.

You gave him a hug and thanked him for it. It truly was a beautiful mirror. It was huge and had the most detailed golden flowers all around it. Perhaps you could focus on that and not the nasty marks that littered your body.

Night time came faster than you would have liked and the thought of changing in front of the mirror seemed like too much. You knew you needed to do this, another step in the healing process.

Eventually you made your way up to your room and began to get ready for bed.

You started to peel off your clothes from the day, breathing through each piece that came off. Once you were fully naked you couldn't take your eyes off of your body.

How would anyone be able to find you beautiful when you looked like this? You wrapped your arms around your stomach as tears sprung to your eyes. You began to softly cry.

Suddenly, you saw movement in the mirror behind you. You lifted your head until you were making eye contact with Azriel through the mirror.

Shadows shot out to cover you, helping you keep your modesty.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked

The name only made you shudder, knowing he wouldn't call you that after seeing your body.

"I'm hideous. My body doesn't even look like its mine anymore." you voice cracked

His heart broke for you, and he ached to hold you.

"Can I come closer?" He asked

You nodded and he walked until he was behind you, so close you could feel his chest as he took a breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He stated and laid his hands on your shoulders, moving them down your arm until they rested on top of your hands. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your head.

"You haven't even truly seen me to know that." you said

"I don't need to see you to know that it is true. But if you think that, then show me." he stated

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears.

"If you're comfortable, let me see." he spoke confidently

You nodded and let him know it was ok to remove the shadows. He bent down and placed a light kiss on your shoulder, right on one of the marks, then on another right next to it.

Slowly the shadows pulled away from your body and you were left compeltely naked. He was staring at your body through the mirror, in awe of you.

He walked til he was standing in front of you.

"Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable." He whispered

You nodded and he got even closer. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed a scar on your palm. Then moved to the other arm and kissed a scar by your elbow. He got down on his knees and looked up at you through his lashes.

"Beautiful" he said right before kissing a rather large scar on your stomach.

He didn't stop until he kissed every mark and scar on your body. He stood up and took your face in his hands.

"Yep, its just as I thought, you are the most beautiful being that I have ever seen." He spoke as he leaned down to your face

"But I'm broken, these scare are proof" you cried

"These scars are proof of your strength. When I look at you, I don't see anything broken. I see the the love of my life. I see intelligence, kindness, power... I see my mate." he confessed

You inhaled sharply and were confused until you felt it too. A tiny pull on your chest as if someone was tugging a string attached to you.

"You're my mate," he smiled then stopped himself, "I found out when Lucien carried you through the doors and none of us knew if you were even alive. I didn't want to tell you because of everything going on and I wanted to earn your love, didn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were so shocked, you still hadn't spoken. In a way, you were glad he kept it from you. If you had known he was your mate you aren't sure what you would've done. All of the trauma you went through must've stopped you from feeling it too.

"I understand if you don't want to accept it. After everything I did-" he started but you immediately shut down that thought

"You have more than proven yourself to me Az. You are my mate and there is nothing that could change that" You told him.

He growled softly when you called him your mate.

You both continued smiling at each other, wrapped in each other's arms.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to continue worshipping you for the rest of the night." he purred.

"It's only fair, you did say you loved groveling" you whispered and he smiled and leaned in.

"Wait!" you quickly said placing a hand on his chest.

He looked confused but you ran over to your bedside table and grabbed the chocolate croissant he had gotten you earlier. You handed it to Az with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he questioned

"It is the only thing I have been certain of in a long time." you responded and he ate some of the pastry.

He set the food down and put one of his hands on your waist, the other on your neck. Slowly he leaned in and placed a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a much longer, more passionate one and he grunted into your mouth.

The frenzy quickly kicked in and Azriel ended up worshipping your body for the next couple of days.

You still weren't fully healed and you probably wouldn't be for a while but that was okay because you had Azriel and the rest of your family to help you get there.

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[whoreforhorror]

Slasher with an S/O who self-harms

Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair

Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood

Billy Loomis

Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed. 

He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.

You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?

Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.

He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.

You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.

He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment. 

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”

Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.

Hannibal Lecter

The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?

Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.

“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.

And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.

He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.

Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.

He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.

Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?

Rusty Nail

Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.

“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.

He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.

When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.

As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.

He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.

When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well. 

He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.

Michael Myers

Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.

Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.

When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.

He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock. 

Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.

Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.

Bo Sinclair

It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?

Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out. 

“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you. 

“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.” 

You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. 

He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.

“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself. 

In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.

After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.

Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill. 

Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself. 

[hey-august]

Word count: Just under 1k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of masturbation, sex, and oral.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Buggy who is surprisingly good at drawing.

Buggy who doodles all the time. Ugly little caricatures of people who piss him off. Goofy scribbles of bits that make him laugh. Potential skits. 

Buggy who scrawls on the margins of paper, the corner of napkins, anywhere he can relieve the itch in his hands.

Buggy who designs costumes for his crew. Colored pencils and oil pastels bring the flashy couture to life.

Buggy who carries a small sketchbook in his coat. Deckle edged paper wrapped in leather, perfect for practicing pencil sketches and graphite drawings as he observes the crew.

Buggy who doesn’t share the drawings in his sketchbook, though. Some had to learn the hard way not to look over his shoulder.

Buggy who realizes too late that you are overtaking his personal pages. What started as small forms to study pose and movement grew larger, capturing more of your essence.

Buggy who becomes obsessed with capturing the small details. How your nose crinkles when you laugh. The sneer in your lips when you’re pissed. The way you rake your fingers through your hair when you try to calm yourself.

Buggy who gets curious late one night. Curious and desperate.

Buggy who draws you from memory and fueled by his filthy imagination. The soft sound of pencil scraping along the paper is comforting.

Buggy who fills a page with you in compromising positions. The lewd expressions you might wear. What he thinks you’d look like split on his cock. Or mouth open, begging to have your face fucked. His hands gripping your plush thighs.

Buggy who fucks himself to the hand-drawn porn and cums all over the page.

Buggy who feels guilty and burns the soggy drawings, as best he can. It takes a few frustrating tries and he panics, even though no one is around.

Buggy who tries to ignore those feelings. Trying to draw anything except you. But everything looks like shit now. Proportions are off. He presses too hard when sketching, unable to erase the stark lines. Even his doodles lack life.

Buggy who gives in and scribbles you in the corner of his sketchbook before moving on to something else. And it works. His movements flow better. A weight is lifted off his chest.

Buggy who eventually caves to the nighttime muse once more. Filling another perverted page with the obscene images flooding his mind. This time, he doesn’t ruin the drawings with jizz or fire.

Buggy who revisits that page frequently. Adds to that page. Convinces himself that it’s okay, it’s not hurting anyone. In fact, it helps him by taking away other urges.

Buggy who eventually manages to misplace his sketchbook. He fucking lost it.

Buggy who doesn’t want to bring attention to his lost treasure. If he says it’s missing, some freaks might find it and look through the pages. They’ll realize what a pathetic loser he is.

Buggy who frantically retraces his footsteps, barking orders to keep everyone away from him. 

Buggy who finally finds it in the hallway just outside his room. The book must have fallen out of his pocket and laid mostly out of sight with the brown leather blending into the wooden floor.

Buggy who is relieved. It doesn’t look like the book had been touched or moved. Even the leather string is still wound around the sketchbook tightly.

Buggy who needs to get back to other duties after sloughing them off most of the day. He’s still on edge, reading into everyone’s interactions. No one acts differently, adding to the relief that no one knows about his perversions.

Buggy who doesn’t open the sketchbook until the end of a very long day. Who waits until he’s alone and in his room.

Buggy whose stomach lurches at the note peeking out of one of the pages. A page devoted to your smile. A note with your handwriting. “This is so impressive! I look so happy”

Buggy who slams the sketchbook shut and starts to pace around the room. Fuck. Did you find it first? Did you look through it? Why? What else did you see? What else did you see?

Buggy who freezes at the thought. Who stares at the awful book, as if it would pipe up and tell him in a fluttery voice.

Buggy who grabs the book and roughly throws it into a drawer, ready to lock up his feelings. Ready to deal with his unhealthy actions with more unhealthy actions.

Buggy who tries to go to bed but can’t sleep. He lays in bed surrounded by a carousel of thoughts. Of fear. And anxiety.

Buggy who sends over a hand to retrieve the damn book. He has to know. He’ll die if he doesn’t find out.

Buggy who can feel his hands shake with each heartbeat as he thumbs through the book, looking for more notes.

Buggy who feels both calmed and excited as he finds your commentary on a few more innocuous pages. Praises for his skill and appreciation for scenes he captured.

Buggy who finally flips to the page. That one.

Buggy who’s afraid to read the note you left there. But he does. “Want to collaborate one day?”

Buggy whose stomach and heart are in knots. 

Buggy who keeps reading. “I’d like to see what you look like too.”

Buggy who shows up at your door, panting and red faced. Sketchbook in hand.

Buggy who trails his fingers along your face as he fucks into you, commiting each detail to memory. The shape of your mouth with each moan. Your lust-filled eyes. The little teeth marks left after you bite your lips.

Buggy who can’t help but stare at your sex-tired body. Chest heaving. Glistening.

Buggy who still wants to taste you. To taste himself on you. Who uses his mouth and tongue to memorize more of your body.

Buggy who is surprisingly good at drawing and collaborating.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Just want to highlight this line bc I love it "This time, he doesn’t ruin the drawings with jizz or fire."

[l4long-winded]

oooo maybe some period care with Carmy coz fuckkkk i am going through it today wishing I in fact had a Carmy so I don’t have to get out of my cozy spot in bed and make myself a coffee.

you know he’d be so extra about it too making syrups and shit

i am so sorry this is so late! inspiration and writing motivation have been nonexistent these days. but i hope all is well! sending the most positive energy your way, babe ✨️

when you insist on spending the day in bed, carmen is a touch disappointed. having you living in his apartment is new. despite his initial resignations, he actually really enjoys having you there. whether it's sitting on his counter in one of his shirts as he cooks, watching a movie together on his couch, or the way you've decorated and made it more of a home than it ever was before you came along, he's dreading the inevitable fuck up that will cause you to leave him.

he'll hold on for as long as he can. dig his fingers into your skin if he has to.

until then, he's looked forward to the date you planned together today. it included a walk in the city, a trip to a restaurant he's fond of, and catching the sunset.

"come on, get up. a shower will help you wake up," he mutters into your shoulder, frowning as your face buries further into the pillow.

"i can't, carmy..."

"what do you mean? here, i'll give you a hand. carry you in if you're that sleepy—"

"it's not that i'm sleepy." you cut carmen off. his lips press together in confusion.

"... it's that time of the month."

"what?"

"carmen."

it takes him longer than it should to realize what you mean. he wants to say something else in his efforts to get you out of bed, but the words seem to get caught in his throat watching as you bar yourself from him.

of course, he wants to ask questions. yet, you seem annoyed with him. the thing is, you're not annoyed with carmen, more so annoyed at the world and your body and the fact that you feel like shit and can't will yourself to out with your committed boyfriend.

so, carmen eventually detaches from the sheets. at first, he ponders illogical things. if you're fed up with him. if you want to move out. if he's finally used up the last of his luck.

once he gets over that, telling himself it's not about him, he looks up what he can do to help. natalie, thankfully, spared him of too many details growing up about the menstrual cycle, but he's dreading his lack of knowledge on the subject in this moment.

he turns his attitude around, bringing you your coffee the way you like it, having taken the extra time to concoct syrups, add in the ingredients that have your nose twitching as he comes in with a steaming cup.

you gradually sit up, blinking tired eyes as he lowers it in front of you. you take the cup, nursing it in your hands.

"do you have cramps?" he asks bluntly, his eyes lingering when you take a cautious sip. he feels triumphant watching you sigh in relief, drinking more and lightening up. there you are. his baby. his everything.

"... yeah," you say with a short nod.

you're perplexed when he gets up suddenly. carmen returns with a towel, steamed up in the kitchen.

"lie back for me..."

you oblige him, setting the half-drank coffee down to the side. carmen lifts your shirt up, lips dragging along your stomach a few times in appreciation, devotion in every kiss, and then he deposits the warm towel onto your skin gently. you close your eyes, the feeling pleasant. his palm hovers above the towel, his head resting into your chest.

"what else can i do? wanna help. you need anything from the store? can cook something... lemme know."

and you do later. for now, you revel in his care and attention. fingers in his hair as he listens to your heartbeat.

[waywardsou2]

Post movie headcanons: Wade X Logan and the girls

I have a few head canons about Post Movie Logan and Wade regarding the movies resident children.

- It's clear that Logan's world didn't have an X 23 and if they did he never met her. He didn't have a Laura. However part of me believes he had a Jubilee because of how easy it was for Logan to get along with Laura. This might be false reasoning but it just feels right. I think he had a Jubilee in his world that he cared for a lot and he lost her. Which adds to why he was so heartbroken. Not only did he lose his family (again) but he lost a lover (I am sure he had something going on with Morph in his world) and he lost a daughter, Jubilee.

- This is why he ends up being so close to Laura. And I think him and Wade either A) find an apartment down the hall and move in the three of them (Wade's glad to have his own space but he could never be too far away from Al) or they let Laura live in that house coz it's close enough because she's still a kid but let's face it 2 people in a one person apartment is rough. 3 is a stretch and 4 would just be a night mare so yeah.

- I also think because Laura needed some mutant friends her age that Yukio and Negasonic come and visit and even stay over quite often. I don't know the comic lore but from the movies I'm either guessing they don't have parents or they have parents who don't want them. And clearly Wade and Yukio have some cute little thing going on so why would she visit. And as snarky as Negasonic is I think they love each other too. So yeah they visit.

- In the end Wade and Logan unofficially become fathers of three young teenage girls and they form this happy family of mismatched misfits. (Clearly none of them could pass as related (well except made Logan and Laura) so they always make up some crazy story whenever they have to tell it)

- Whenever Yukio and Negasonic come to visit Wade always goes to the effort to make waffles (don't ask me why this detail was just stuck in my head. I don't even like waffles so I have no idea why I was thinking about them) He makes them with fruit and buys that special cream that is made for whipping. None of that shit out of a can. Oh no, only the best for his the girls.

- At some point Logan tells Wade (and by extention the girls) about Jubilee. About how he saved her from the sentinels and ever since then she had hung around him and they eventually really bonded. He thought he lost her so many times but in the end he was able to save her. Until he wasn't. And he says how much he misses her and when he starts crying he even says "They took away my little girl" and for once Wade can't even bring himself to joke because of how raw this wound really is.

I have more but I didn't want the post to be too long so click here for part 2

[gi4hao]

☆ in which a bag of groceries make seungkwan measure the extent of your love

☆ seungkwan x gn!reader — cw: food, seungkwan’s tits are out (._.)

there’s a tension growing in your upper back from carrying so many grocery bags on your own. giving yourself a quick shoulder rub, you make your way to your bedroom whose door is still shut.

carefully opening it, you’re relieved to see it’s still pitch black inside; you’ve apparently been quiet enough not to wake seungkwan up. or at least you have been until now:

“hey sunshine”, his drowsy voice greets you from the bed. in the dark, you can barely make out his arms stretching over his head. “where were you? what time is it?”

he leans to the side to turn on your bedside lamp; the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes make your heart swoon just a little.

“10 am. i went grocery shopping, figured the supermarket would be less crowded in the morning”, you reply, sitting next to him.

and you were right, there was practically no one in the aisles today; which was more than welcome considering you had to buy enough groceries to feed all twelve members’ stomachs tonight.

“you should have woken me up!” seungkwan protests, but the way his eyes are still struggling with adjusting to the light proves how much he needed to sleep in. “…did you find everything you wanted?” he asks, lifting one end of the covers to invite you in.

you nod as you happily snuggle against his bare chest, something that might be due to the fact that most of his comfy t-shirts are hidden away on your side of the closet.

“i bought some peanut butter for the cookies, of course i’ll also make regular ones for vernon”, you start explaining, trying to remember the items in your bags: “some paper towels too. i also got some mangos to make those smoothies cheol told me about. oh and i found jun’s shampoo! the one that was sold out everywhere! he asked for two bottles just in case.”

cheek pressed against his skin, you can’t really see his smile growing a bit more with every sentence. but something about the way his fingers start to gently rub your scalp lets you know how grateful he’s feeling.

because not only have you made active efforts to remember these little details about the people he loves, you’ve made them happily and willingly. as if loving him and loving the people he cares about naturally came hand in hand to you.

“i think it’s about time i start gatekeeping you”, he eventually blurts out, bringing the covers up to your nose. “i’ll call the guys, tell them tonight is cancelled. i’m never letting you out in the world again.”

a bashful smile tugging on your lips, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him: “you can’t do that. you love showing me off too much. besides, we can’t rob the world of our insane chemistry.”

your words draw a chuckle out of him, because not even him and his usual wittiness can’t deny what you just said.

“i love you”, he simply replies, his fingertips lightly scratching the back of your neck.

you’ve been hearing these three words on a regular basis for the past couple of years, yet you’re still unable to suppress the giddiness in your eyes.

“i’m glad you do… because i paid the groceries with your credit card”, you reply teasingly, but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds before you add a sincere: “i love you too.”

basking in the intimacy of your old lamp’s yellowish hues, he leans forward to leave a delicate kiss on your lips, your breaths intertwining as his hand lays a bit flatter on your neck.

his smile echoes on your face when you finally break the kiss, as you watch him readjust his position to rest more comfortably on the pillow.

“you know, i might not actually gatekeep you forever… but i’m gonna borrow your freedom for one more hour”, he says, arms keeping you close to him, “i’m not ready to start the day yet.”

and for the next hour, neither of you can find their way back to sleep. instead, the room fills with waves of mundane conversations, laughter and soft kisses, reflecting the simple happiness of knowing you found the right person to spend a lifetime of mornings with.

[cerisahh]

GREEN-EYED GIRL

SYNOPSIS ꒱ gun gives goo's number to someone flirting with him, reader is unaware and gets jealous.

REQUEST ꒱ hiiiiii may i request a drabble of gun x f!reader where he took her out on a date but when she went to the restroom she saw a girl ask him his number and he still gave it to her (and reader got jealous lol), but it turns out that he gave goo's number instead of his to that girl. eventually gun found her jealousy cute and decided to tease her before revealing the truth to her >< thankewww <3 - @vynnyll

NOTE ꒱ THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! thank you for the request, vynn. it was a pleasure experimenting with this one!

Gun isn't exactly what most would call a 'hopeless romantic'.

That's why you're surprised when he asks you to have dinner at an exclusive restaurant in the heart of town. Not that you hadn't gone on dates before, but they tended to be more secluded, the atmosphere more relaxed. Not right in the hustle and bustle of central seoul.

Now imagine your further surprise when he turns up at your apartment the night before with the most gorgeous gown - because it would be a great disservice to simply call it a dress - and a smirking grin at your instant fawning.

Your boyfriend delivering an outfit for you to wear to a date? Now this is pretty romantic.

"I take it you like the dress?" He asks, still holding the gown as you continue to pour over the details and embroidery.

"Like it?" You say breathlessly, still mesmerised, "Oh, Gun, you really didn't have to - I love it - but you really didn't have to."

"I wanted to, so I did." The corners of his lips lift up into a slight smirk, "Besides, you shouldn't thank me too much. Not like you're gonna be wearing it for long."

"Gun!"

Romantic while it lasted, anyway.

You kick him out shortly after so he can return to his work, and so you can return to admiring this masterpiece. Seriously, where did he find this?

You go to sleep late that night, having tried on the gown and pretending you were a princess for an entire hour. I mean, no judgement, you look like one in that getup.

Gun arrives at your door at seven o'clock sharp. The door opens and it takes quite a fair amount of willpower for his jaw to not go slack.

You look breathtaking. He notices you've done your hair up all fancy and you've adorned yourself with jewelry that matches your outfit perfectly. He chose the right dress for sure. And the right girl.

"My, my." His arm snakes behind you at your waist and pulls you closer to him. Mine, he thinks, "Don't you look delectable."

"Delectable is certainly a choice of words." You grin, relaxing into him, placing your own hands atop his chest.

He hums and it reverberates through his chest, "I can think of a few more. Ravishing, opulent, enchanting," With each word his hands wander until you're flush up against him and the wall. God forbid any of your neighbours decide to peek their head out of their doors. One wrong move from him - or right, depends on how you're looking at things - will have you both tumbling back into your apartment and forgetting about your date tonight. Besides, you did not want him roughing up your dress.

You will your heated cheeks to cool down, "You can add late for our reservation to the list if you carry on that way."

He does, in fact, carry on that way. You both arrive at the restaurant twenty minutes later than what you had arranged, which is shrugged off by the waitstaff due to the fact that Gun knows the owner personally.

Which is another way of saying that Gun had threatened the owner personally, but who cares about details.

You two are escorted to a more secluded part of the restaurant, well, as secluded as the place could really get. It was a weekend so naturally it would be full of more people.

Gun levels a threatening glare at the waiter before he gets the chance to pull out your chair, doing so himself much to your amusement.

“Someone fancies themselves a gentleman tonight.” You muse, patting down the skirt of your gown as it adjusted to the chair.

“Gotta get in all the niceties before I get you back to my place tonight.”

Gun was lucky you had the patience of a saint right now, otherwise you would have flicked him with the cloth napkin you were holding.

The dinner was nothing short of delightful. You're no stranger to the finer things in life but between the food and the company in attendance, you had no complaints. It was nice to be seen in a more public place with Gun, somewhere that didn't involve fighting or gang wars.

It wasn't as nice to see a woman a few tables behind Gun's shoulder staring at you two. What was her problem?

"I need to powder my nose." You say to Gun, who was in the middle of taking a bite of a particularly bloody slice of steak. How he can stomach eating meat that rare you'll never know.

He hums, chewing thoughtfully, "You just said that to sound fancy, didn't you."

"Would you rather all the grizzly details of my bathroom escapades?" You ask, folding your arms against your chest.

"Would you judge me if I said yes?"

"Might do."

"Then no."

You roll your eyes and walk yourself to the bathroom, checking your hair to make sure it hasn't lost any of its volume or shape, it could use a little hairspray. Good thing you have your bag and a patient boyfriend.

Almost as soon as you left to 'powder your nose' - Gun thinks that saying is ridiculous, by the way - some woman wearing a dress that is way too low cut for the establishment they're in had sauntered up to him and started talking. About what, he wasn't sure, he wasn't in the mood to entertain some random whore who was clearly only looking for a rich man and a quick lay.

He notices she's stopped talking a few seconds too late and watches as her phone is pushed into his field of view - effectively moving his plate of food away, the arrogant bitch - he picks it up and stares at it for a moment, before putting Goo's number into her contacts. He's been pissing him off more than usual lately, he can deal with whatever train wreck is standing next to him.

"Are you busy later, handsome?"

Would this girl just fuck off already? She already thinks she's got his number so what more could she possibly want? He opens his mouth to tell her something of that nature before he gets interrupted.

"He is."

You're standing behind her glaring with your arms folded, mostly glowering at the woman but he sees you flicker that murderous gaze at him too.

Would it be so wrong to say he liked it?

Coming back to your table to see the staring woman, who now that you're looking closer looks like she's wearing an awfully cheap Jessica Rabbit cosplay, flirting with your boyfriend for everyone to see was not on your bucket list for tonight.

Seeing him put his number into her phone wasn't exactly thrilling either.

The woman cocks her hip to the side and looks you up and down, "And you are?"

You smile mirthlessly, "His girlfriend. You're standing in front of my seat."

"Really?" She asks, raising a brow, "You're his girlfriend?"

You're not an insecure person. Especially not with the way you know you look now, and you can see it in her eyes: she's intimidated.

Good. She should be.

"That's right. Now move along." You shoo her away with your hand.

She harrumphs at you and throws a 'whatever' over her shoulder. You make a sound of dismissal as she stalks off, you've half a mind to follow her to the table she came from and slam her head onto it a few times.

...

Where did that burst of violence come from? Gun must be rubbing off on you.

Speaking of Gun, you turn to him. He's leaned back in his chair and is all but smirking up at you, "Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He asks, examining you whilst you take your seat opposite him.

"Someone is bothering me." You manage, your expression must look similar to that of someone who has just sucked the juice out of a lemon. "What was that?"

"What was what exactly?" His head tilts slightly to the side with his question and he looks and sounds so stupid that you almost slap that stupid grin off his stupid face. Grinning like a moron like he hadn't given his phone number to that simpering whore. The nerve.

"Why were you talking to that... woman?" Bitch had been on the tip of your tongue but you caught yourself just in time.

With an air of nonchalance, he shrugs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He takes a sip before he speaks again, "She wanted my number."

"Right. So you just decided to indulge whatever fantasies she was concocting in her head for shits and giggles and give her your number just because she wanted it?"

Oh he liked this side of you. Seeing you sitting there all irritable and enraged, albeit quietly, as to not make a scene, made his blood pump hotter. Jealousy looked real good on you.

He supposes he should set the record straight, having you think he would ever give his personal number to some rouge-wearing tramp when he had you was laughable. Guess he'd have to get that through your skull later, one way or another.

"I gave her a phone number. Not mine."

"What?" You pause, the angry flush that had been festering dissipated quicker then it rose, "Who's?"

He shows you his phone instead of responding verbally, “Goo?” You say, confused.

“Didn’t really think I’d let any woman have my number did you?” He tucks his phone back into his suit pocket.

"You weren't exactly telling her to leave."

He looks at you, "I wasn't even listening to her."

"Well... I don't like it."

"Like what?"

He's gonna get a kick out of this one, you let a beat pass as you try to gather some words that won't make you sound like a jealous control freak that doesn't want her boyfriend to even acknowledge the existence of other women.

"Women talking to you."

That was absolutely not the correct choice of words. He snickers.

"Shut up. You know what I mean." You huff, cross at yourself.

"I do, but hearing you admit that you were jealous is music to my ears. Say it again."

Holding up your middle finger doesn't do much to deter him. "Say it, you were jealous."

You roll your eyes, "You really want to hear me say it?"

"Desperately." He admits, taking a sip of his drink. Nodding at you to begin your confession.

"Will it shut you up?"

"For all of thirty seconds, maybe."

You lean back and look to the side, "Fine. I was jealous. Hope you enjoyed that because I'm never saying it again."

"Once was more than enough."

"You still have twenty five seconds left."

© CERISAHH 2024 — all fics on this account belong to… ME! don’t steal my shit.

[moirasdolly]

hii! Hope your doing well ! Okay so I wanted to make a request that i had in my mind for a little while but..fem reader forbidden love with Arlecchino(sort of) -hear me out🥲

So this could begin with like, the reader being from the orphanage just like Arlecchino back then and like the reader got expelled from it or something realized to the reader being separated from her. And years go on where on a mission (somehow) Arlecchino had too much to drink and had a one night stand with another woman(the reader), Upon the realization and choosing the avoid and forget about the subject, the said subject(reader) stumbles upon the twins and somehow becomes friends with the two meaning the reader eventually gets introduced to Arlecchino and well, it becomes all awkward and stuff since reader could remember sort of glimpses of what had happened and that night.(so sorry, but as I was typing this I had been listening to the song "a little death" by the neighbourhood and got the Idea, but for the rest forgot what else to add so I leave this to you, you don't have to do this if you do not wish to, is just something I had in my mind for a while ♡)

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Language ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟArlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Detailed in the request !!

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), hurt and comfort, Crucabena mention, one night stand, Arle can’t regulate her emotions…

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Language - Alexis Munroe

Notes: Hi!! Thank you for requesting such an interesting prompt, I’ll admit i did struggle with this, but it sort of reminded me of the song Language by Alexis Munroe, so I kind of took inspo from that too. I tried to stay along the general lines of your request but I did switch up a few things, I hope you like it!

Tears ran down your cheeks as you were pulled away from Peruere. Your eyes searched her crimson-cross eyes for any form of help, but no matter how many times you had tried to reach for her hand, you were pulled back by the strong Fatui soldiers at your side. “Mother, why?” You struggled against those who were holding you back, by now you were a mess, but you didn’t care. You just needed to know why Mother had wanted to toss you out like nothing. “Because you’re useless to us now. Simple as that.” And with a wave of Crucabena’s hand you were taken away to God knows where.

As you struggled all Peruere could do was watch, paralyzed in fear. Her dear friend was being taken away from her and there was nothing she could do. Your screams of distress rang out in her ears, and it wasn’t until you had been removed from the room could she even register what happened. Silent tears streaked her cheeks as she met Crucabena’s cold gaze. “M-Mother…” Peruere’s voice was so shaky it barely came out as a whisper. “Where are you taking her?” 

It was as if the evil woman had no regard for the child she had just thrown out because when she spoke, she acted like she was talking about taking out the trash. “We shouldn’t keep things that don’t serve us. Don’t you agree.?” Her icy gaze told Peruere that there was no disagreeing with her, so all she could do was nod along. She didn’t feel that way though, she missed her best friend. She would do anything to see her again.

-

You were sat at a quaint little bar in your hometown in the Fontaine when the woman a few seats down threw a comment your way. “You might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, you’re like a doll.” Your eyebrows raised at the familiar voice, you knew that tone from anywhere. Although you were almost 100% sure it was Peruere, you still turned to get a better look. There were those eyes again. Her crimson eyes stared right back at you and you felt your heart almost stop. You had to be sure it was her… “May I ask your name? You look familiar.” You ask, leaning in subtly after returning your own name to her as well.

There had been something you couldn’t quite pin down flash across her features after you said your name, but before you could notice, it was gone. “Arlecchino.” She says quickly. Huh? You thought to yourself. Maybe she had started going by something else, I mean it had been years since you last saw each other. You wondered if she was still working under Crucabena. It stung a little bit that she didn’t even remember you even though you had been so inseparable as children. She was your first friend, your first love. 

“Well Arlecchino, if you think I’m the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen, why don’t you show me?” Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system, but it gave you an extra boost of confidence you wouldn’t have had otherwise. Arlecchino’s cheeks heat up at your words and you can tell she was equally as buzzed as you. “If you insist.” She said with a grin as she extended her gloved hand to you. You tried to hide a gasp when she stood up, but she was just so different from the last time you saw her. She was taller, more mature, but most of all she had a hidden strength to her that you only noticed when she tugged you out of your seat and snaked an arm around your waist.

Her hand rested at your hip and squeezed it firmly as the two of you made your way to her hotel room. You thanked the Archons that her hotel was just a block away from the bar because every moment that you weren’t being ravaged by her it felt like a year was being taken off of your lifespan. You needed her so badly that it was ridiculous, you were just so happy to see her again even if she didn’t seem to recognize you.

Once you had entered the elevator she smashed a finger down on her floor, the top floor you noticed. It seemed as if both of you were waiting for the elevator doors to shut because as soon as they did, Arlecchino’s hands were all over you. She had already begun to unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a skimpy black balconette bra that accentuated your breasts perfectly. Lipstick stains littered your chest as she left wet, messy kisses across every bit of exposed skin. She eventually worked her way up to your neck to suck little purple bruises into your delicate skin, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from letting out a pathetic whine.

You were interrupted by the tell-tale ding of the elevator doors opening, and you two were so caught up with each other that you hadn’t even noticed at first. Once the other woman was able to rip herself away from you she enveloped your hand in her own and led you to her room. You two stumbled into the room like you were two fawns learning how to walk for the first time, and you had barely made it to her bedroom. 

She laid you on the bed as gently as a drunk woman could before trying to unbutton the rest of your shirt. Her usually deft fingers were failing her tonight because she couldn’t quite get the next button off. Instead of asking you for help, the next logical decision for her was to just rip your shirt open. You gasped as the buttons flew in different directions in her room and you mourned the loss of one of your favorite shirts. Your little pity party was cut short though because Arlecchino had wasted no time unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side. At the sight of your breasts she couldn’t control herself, and she took one of them into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around your hardening nipple. She didn’t neglect the other one though and instead put her hand to work to knead your breast.

Little moans filled the room and you couldn’t help but think about how heavenly her mouth felt on you. “More please…” Your soft voice called out to her and she obliged. You whined at the loss of her mouth as she flipped you around to be on your stomach. Your face pressed into the soft pillows as she pushed up your little skirt, ripped your poor stockings into shreds, and slid your panties down to your knees. Your cheeks heated up at the compromised position you were in, but Arlecchino almost wished she could take a picture for later. She caressed your soft hips and her fingers sent shivers straight down your arched spine. 

“I won’t tease you, I want you too, darling.” Arlecchino’s deep voice whispered into your ear. She pressed a hand onto your back as her other hand rubbed small circles onto your hip. She lifted her hand slightly before letting it come crashing down onto your ass. Your lips parted into a little “O” shape at the sting of her hand on your skin. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t complain when it happened again. You were bracing yourself for another one, but instead you felt a finger running down your dripping slit. You mewled at her feather light touch and tried bucking your hips back to get a little more friction.

You didn’t have to wait much longer though because she had instantly slid a long digit into your aching cunt. Her pace was nice and slow at first, only picking up when she added another finger. “You take me so well, good girl.” She groaned as she pumped her fingers into you. She reached the deepest parts of you that no one else ever could and you felt like you would go insane as she added a third finger. You felt so incredibly full and you had begun moving your hips back to meet the thrusts of her fingers. Her free hand caressed your back gently and it was a direct contrast to how rough her fingers were inside of you.

She caged you in under her and it almost sent you over the edge how she was grunting in your ear as she fucked you open on her fingers. You tilted your head slightly to get a glimpse of her, and when you saw her bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead and the way her face was scrunched up in concentration, you felt heat pool in your stomach. “Don’t stop!” You whined out in desperation. You might have sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t control the noises spilling from your lips as her fingers curled into you, hitting that little bundle of nerves each time.

Pressure was building in your stomach and with a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers you came hard. Your hands gripped the sheets as you squirmed under Arlecchino, but she didn’t slow down for you. It was only the beginning of your night together.

-

The two of you were now fully naked and panting against each other as your actions caught up to you. Arlecchino collapsed onto the plush bed and pulled you close against her, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as she planted a kiss on your lips. “You’re perfect…” She mumbled, and maybe it was selfish, but you wanted her to remember you so badly.

By now, the alcohol’s effects had long worn off and now that Arlecchino’s head was clear, she had been fully aware that the woman she had slept with was you. Her heart raced an abnormal amount and she was so torn on what to do. She had fucked up when she didn’t try to fight for you, but she was just a kid like you. What could she have done to stop Crucabena’s plans? She wanted to apologize so badly, but she felt like she had no right. You had to know it was her too, right? 

Arlecchino was so caught up in her own head that she hadn’t noticed you calling her name softly. “Sorry, doll. What was that again?” She murmurs gently, holding you closer to her.

“All I said was I’m sleepy.” You mumbled as you yawned. “Sleep then, I’ll be here.” The other woman ran her fingers through your hair, careful not to hurt you. Sleep was already taking over your body as your eyes fluttered shut. “I love you Peruere.” You whispered carelessly just before falling asleep. Arlecchino’s eyes widened and her body stiffened for a moment. Tears pooled in her eyes before she let them fall silently, just like on the night you were taken away from her. 

-

The morning after was a cold awakening to you when you woke up without her on your side. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but soon they turned into full sobs racking through your body. You couldn’t believe she truly didn’t remember you, your hopes that she did were crushed the moment you saw the note left on the bedside table. “Headed off to work. Left money for an Uber home, thanks for the good night. Call me sometime xxxxxxx” What a thoughtless note. You tried to gather what was left of your clothing so you could leave in a somewhat presentable manner. To your dismay you could only button the top of your shirt and your stockings were completely destroyed. You were able to tuck your shirt into your skirt to hide the fact that the bottom half of your buttons were missing, but you still felt like some type of whore as you left her room to return home. 

Your vision was still blurry with tears as you rushed out of the elevator that you didn’t even notice two people about to get in. You collided with the taller of the two and you both fell to the ground with a loud thump. Before you could register what had happened, the man apologized and offered you a hand. You took it wearily before apologies began tumbling out of your mouth profusely. “Don’t sweat it. I’m Lyney, and this is my sister Lynette.” He had introduced himself and his sister. You muttered your name, your tone laced with embarrassment at the state of yourself right now. “Pardon me for being intrusive, but what happened?” Lyney inquired once you had introduced yourself. You couldn’t just say, “Oh nothing, it's just that my first love who I hadn’t seen since we were children fucked me, didn’t recognize me, and left before I even woke up,” so instead you settled for, “It was a rough night.” The two nodded their heads before sharing glances. You oddly didn’t feel judged by them, but you did notice their empathetic gazes on you.

“It’s fine though!” You waved your hands around trying to get your point across without worrying them too much. “How about we take you out to eat, you look like you could use a couple of friends right now.” Lyney shot you a warm smile, and you couldn’t say no to a face like that. “Alright then… Thank you seriously.”

Your little trio was beginning to form very quickly, and you noticed that the atmosphere between the three of you had gotten very friendly and familiar in no time. Even Lynette’s usual quiet demeanor was left behind as she got to know you. Everyone was stuffed from the food and after a moment of just enjoying each other's presence, you thought it would be appropriate to pay. The waitress had dropped off everyone’s checks not too long ago, so you began reaching into your purse to retrieve your credit card. Before you could though, Lyney placed a gentle hand over yours and shook his head with a good natured laugh. “Don’t worry about it! It’s on us.” Confusion washed over your face as your eyes flickered to Lynette and she nodded her head.

“I couldn’t possibly let you guys pay for me! We only just met after all…” You protested, but they weren’t having any of it. As the waitress came back around Lyney gestured for her to lean down and once she did, he whispered something into her ear. She nodded curtly before waving us off with a, “Have a nice day!” and a polite smile. It seemed like the day just kept getting more weird by the second. “What was that about?” You questioned, and the two siblings shared a look– like they were exchanging words without actually speaking.

Lyney was the first to break the silence, “You see, we work for a large orphanage, so we have a tab at the restaurant.” You furrowed your brows, but accepted the explanation anyway. You had your suspicions on what orphanage it was, but you kept that to yourself. “I see… Well in any case I’d like to repay both of you sometime for the meal. If you want, can we all exchange numbers?” You suggest. Regardless of who they worked for, you wanted to become better friends with the siblings. They obliged happily and with that you bid each other goodbye until next time.

-

The three of you had grown close and their younger sibling Freminet had even begun making appearances. Since you were older than them, you did feel like a bit of an older sister, but it seemed as if they didn’t mind the dynamic at all, you found it cute, and you really enjoyed their presence. After your initial meeting, they had started coloring your world little by little, bringing you joy just at the thought of seeing them.

One night you had all agreed to go out for dinner again and to meet up at the hotel they stayed in before heading off. You were adorned in a mid length silk dress that draped off of your curves effortlessly and black heels that made a delicate clicking noise every time you took a step. It was odd dressing up so fancy, but the siblings insisted that their father was joining them, so they would be taking me somewhere more high end. You were honestly nervous to meet their father, he must have been someone of high status based on how the siblings praised him.

You arrived outside of the hotel and you observed the scenery around you as you waited for them to greet you. You heard the distant chatter of their voices as they made your way to you, and when you looked up you froze. Trailing behind them was the woman you had longed for your whole life, the woman who left you without a word the day after you hooked up. Her eyes widened momentarily, before leveling her expression. Lyney’s bright voice piped up and he introduced her as their Father and you were infinitely more confused. If she was the Father of the orphanage then the only way that could have happened was if Crucabena had been killed.

You looked to her wishing she’d explain, but all she offered was a curt bow of her head as she introduced herself as Father of the House of Hearth. It was clear to you she recognized you now and had only been acting as if she didn’t before. You were sure your face was giving your confusion away so you tried to reel yourself in before you made things anymore awkward tonight. 

You stayed in step with Lyney as he guided the party to the restaurant of choice, and you tried to keep up with the conversation, but your mind drifted to Arlecchino more often than not. You felt her piercing gaze on the back of your head, and no matter how much you tried to ignore her, you just couldn’t shake her off. 

Finally arriving at the restaurant, you were ushered in by a kind hostess and you were led to a solitary room with a large table in the middle of it. “Welcome in Lady Arlecchino and her guests.” The hostess showed everyone to their seats and brought out menus before leaving everyone to decide their orders in peace. Conversation was beginning to flow a little better now that you had adjusted to her presence. Although you wish she’d stop staring you down from across the table, averting her gaze every time you looked back.

“So, Arlecchino, you’re their Father? Why not mother?” You prodded and the other woman stiffened up at the question. You knew you had hit a nerve, but you had every right to considering what your “mother” had done to you. The siblings must have noticed the tense atmosphere shift because they were sharing glances with each other at the mention of Arlecchino’s title. They didn’t jump in just yet though because Arlecchino answered swiftly. “I have an ill association with the old mother of the orphanage, I’m sure you’ve heard tales. After all, Crucabena was known even outside of the orphanage.” A frown painted your features at the subtle jab being made. You glared at her across the table with a new found hurt building in your chest, and you excused yourself abruptly.

You made your way to the restroom and the dam broke. Sobs racked your body as every emotion you had been harboring since the night started just became so overwhelming. The door creaked slightly signaling someone would be entering shortly and you tried to pull yourself together, but it had been too late. The same woman who had caused your tears made herself known as she cleared her throat. You could tell she felt regretful for letting that slick comment even leave her mouth. Your expulsion from the orphanage was traumatic for her, but even more so for you, and she knew that. She knew, but still made a jab at you because she couldn’t regulate her feelings.

“I…” She started and you cut her off before she could get any further. “You what?” You snapped. “You came in here to fuck with me some more?  Make me feel special and like you remember me, only to rip my heart out again and act like I’m nobody to you?” Your words stung her, but she had no right to feel hurt after what she had done. “No. No, never that. I want to apologize for how I handled this situation.” You could feel the sincerity in her voice, so you decided to hear her out.

“The day Crucabena had you dragged out,  I never had a night of peaceful sleep again. I was tired of how she treated us children and my every night was spent plotting her death.” A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened at her confession. You didn’t say anything quite yet though, urging Arlecchino to continue. “On the night of my 17th birthday I finally went through with my plan and killed her. I killed her for you, in the hopes that one day I would be able to find you again, but when I did meet you I was incredibly intoxicated.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her lithe, gloved fingers for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I’m ashamed at how I acted, I recognized you almost immediately and just got carried away. I missed you terribly.” By now your tears had almost dried completely, but you were feeling so many things it was ridiculous.

“I just don’t get it. Why take me back to your place, fuck me, and then just leave without explanation. Do you know how used I felt?” You sniffled slightly. “I felt like you recognized me, to then only get my hopes shattered all because you felt ashamed of yourself? Is that it?” You were beginning to get worked up again and before you could say something you really regretted, Arlecchino spoke up again. “I don’t get it either, and I’m sorry. I should apologize for as long as I live for hurting you. I want you to be back in my life, just as you should have been this whole time.” She murmurs before pulling you in for a tight hug. Initially you fought against her, tears streaming down your cheeks again, but eventually you gave in. You just stayed in her embrace for what felt like an eternity, your face pressed against her chest. Your sobs soon subsided into little hiccups and sniffles as she rubbed soothing circles over your back to calm you down.

“I missed you so much, Peruere.” You whisper into her chest. “I missed you too, my sweetheart. I never stopped thinking about you for even one day. Thank you for coming back into my life again.” Her words were sprinkled in between feather light kisses to the top of your head. You nodded gently, it was going to take a while to get used to this again, and you would struggle with understanding why she went about the situation like this, but you couldn’t bear to be apart from her again. “You’re going to have to work to get me back, you know?” You joked with her, maybe it was only partially a joke though. You wanted to be pampered and doted on by her for all the years you missed out on it, and she would happily oblige. She would do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours for the rest of her life. “You know I’d do anything.” Arlecchino mumbles into you. “Now we should probably get back out there, the kids must be wondering what's taking so long.” You giggle softly before wiping the mascara streaks off of your cheeks. “Should we explain to them? Or…” You trail off unsure of how to move forward. You get a hum in confirmation from Arlecchino, and you nod. They would have to find out your history one way or another, so why not tonight? You still looked a bit rough, but they would understand. “After you.” Arlecchino had gestured to the door before opening it or you first. You took a shaky breath before she had grabbed your hand and squeezed it for reassurance that everything would be okay.

You might have been hurt for a long time, and it might take time to recover, but as long as you had your beloved Peruere beside you, things would be alright.

[buckyalpine]

Hello! I have a request please! Loving the idea of bucky and reader having a relationship/hookup but not staying together. Then reader gets a new bf, but bucky catches her still wearing his own shirt to bed or something, and teases her about wishing they were still together etc. you decide how it ends 😈 have been listening to “smells like me” by Charlie Puth lately and can’t stop thinking about this scenario!!

18+

I love this and ofc this is going to have a happy fluffy ending but some angst and steaminess throughout because I am a sucker for this type of scenario. 

Some angst, jealousy, possessive horny Bucky, all the smut, Bucky's filthy mouth, needy sex, some cheating but i promise it adds to the spice okay? (plus the guy is a loser)

-

It was a mutual decision to break up. At least that’s what you both told yourselves. It started off as a mutual transaction; just hooking up and staying friends with benefits so nothing would get complicated. You and Bucky fucked like rabbits in every position and every surface imaginable. Things were great, until they weren’t.

You caught feelings. He kept his hidden. 

Bucky didn’t think he could do a relationship. You wanted more. 

He initiated the break up and while it hurt you, you both agreed it was for the best since you wanted different things. 

That was months ago. 

Moving on wasn’t easy but you weren’t going to waste your life away crying over someone who didn’t want you. You started dating again and eventually you found something relatively stable. Things were fine. Good. Bucky had avoided you completely after the break up but took a sudden interest in you again after he found out you were seeing someone. 

“So, you’re actually into this guy?” He raised an eyebrow, hanging around the kitchen, unable to contain his curiosity after he saw you arrive home from your date. He felt a drop of something deep in his chest, seeing you in a dress he had never seen before. His knuckles were nearly white, clenching his hands to his sides to keep himself in check but his jaw clenched hearing the click of your heels against the tile floor. 

All dressed up for some other man. 

“Mhm” You shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, avoiding eye contact with the super solider. You were over him. You were so over him. You had a boyfriend and you were over Bucky. You had to be. “Why else would I go out with him”

“He doesn’t seem like your type” Bucky sassed, hoping to mask the bubbling jealousy that continued to rise in his chest. 

“Oh, and you know what my type is?” You spat back, turning on your heel to glare at him. “You’re an expert on who I should date?” 

“I’m just saying” He took a few steps towards you, “I thought you had better standards” He knew what he was doing, biting his lip, watching your chest heave, the eyes that used to roll back from pleasure now throwing daggers at him. 

“Well I like him. Who I date isn’t any of your concern anyway James” Your nails dug into your palms, deciding against entertaining his shit any longer, holding your tongue back. Bucky felt something pang in his stomach watching the way your hips swayed as you stormed off to your room without looking back. 

****

Bucky couldn’t stand it. 

He figured you’d drop this guy eventually but it only got worse. 

You brought your boyfriend around the compound more.

He’d occasionally stay for movie night. 

Bucky would have to watch you cuddle up with him, the both of you going back to your room after for God knows what. He’d see the guy sitting in the living room, waiting for you to get ready for your dates. For fucks sake, he was even there at breakfast after he spent the night over. 

Every time your boyfriend did something, Bucky would mentally correct him. He could see your body tense whenever he put his arm around you; you liked being held securely and this guys arm dangled lightly behind your waist. He never gave you his full attention when you spoke, never remembered the little details about you. Bucky was sure he had caught him flirting with some of the other agents, holding himself back from punching him in the jaw. 

Fuck, he didn’t even kiss you properly. It was too hesitant, too gentle, Bucky knew how you loved to be kissed, how to make you weak in the knees. He would have ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it back, tilting your face up, to look at him. He would have cupped your cheeks, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other gently wrapped around your neck, his teeth gently nipping your lips. He wouldn’t have given a fuck about people being around, if you were his girl he would have-

No. Never mind. 

Your new boyfriend clearly didn’t know what he was doing anywhere. On more than one occasion, Tony had a shit eating grin on his face because Bucky had you screaming over the sound proof walls. 

Why the fuck were you with him when should have been with..

Someone else.

Though there was one other thing Bucky had noticed. One thing he made note of multiple times, his ego growing more every time it happened. 

You wandered down to the kitchen before bed to get a glass of water, stopping when your eyes landed on the brunette super solider, his sweats low on his hips, his upper body on full display after he left his hoodie in the gym. You decided to ignore him, grabbing a cup and filling it, your breath hitching hearing his low voice. 

“I thought that shirt looked familiar” He took a few steps towards you, noting the way you kept your eyes trained on your glass.  “You look comfy”

“I-

“You what” Bucky smirked, his eyes raking up and down your bare legs, cocking his head while you backed yourself against the counter. “What is it sweets”

“Nothing” you swallowed thickly, mentally scolding yourself for getting caught wearing his Henley to bed. You had no excuse, you had plenty of your own over sized t-shirts you could have worn but....

“Does your boyfriend know where you got that shirt, why you sleep with it almost every night” You couldn't bring yourself to speak, shaking your head, heart racing. “You know I noticed you wear it all the time, even when your snuggled up with him. You just can’t stop yourself can you, he’s not the same” 

He’s not you. 

“You still think about me, hm?” Bucky couldn't help himself, a part of him knowing he had no right to look at you like that, you had a boyfriend but his body was moving on its own, pressing you against the counter, his lips dropping to your ear. “Does he fuck like I can?”

“Bucky stop” You tried to ignore the shiver that ran through your body, his hips pressing against you, his erection digging into your hip. You bit your lip, trying to keep your hands from palming his chest, avoiding his eyes. 

“Tell me, does he touch you like I do?” He kept his hands to his sides but he couldn't help but rock his hips against you, his cock achingly hard, desperate for some relief. He let out a strained groan, precum starting to dampen his brief's. 

“Bucky-” You tried to push him away from you but he pressed himself against you harder, your back digging against the counter. “Stop” Your voice was a whimper, you knew you could have pushed him off if you wanted to...you should have...

“Does he make love to you like me, reach that spot that makes you scream?” His nose dragged along the column of your neck, his tongue gliding across your skin, filthy mouth unrelenting. 

“Does his cock fill you like mine does” 

No. 

“Does he nurse on your clit like I do, suck and kiss that sweet, pretty little nub of yours until his face is soaked with your cum? Does he lick and drink your sweetness like I do baby, does he get hard just off the way you taste?”

No. 

“Does he make himself cum on your bed from just rubbing himself on it when he’s between those thighs? Does he worship your body like I do princess, tell me, does he stroke his cock every night, moaning for you?”

No.

“Does he paint your body with cum, does it clean it off nice? Lick off every drop of the mess he makes like I do? You miss that, don’t you baby, you miss my hot cum on your body, you miss my warm tongue cleaning you up right afterwards? You miss it filling your pussy up and dripping onto the sheets, you miss the way I fuck it right back into you and have you suck if off my cock” 

You didn’t even realize you had parted your legs, letting his thigh press against your needy cunt, your hips rocking and grinding on him as he continued to lure you to him, he couldn't hold back any longer. 

“Look at you rubbing yourself on me princess, he doesn’t satisfy you does he?” You let out a broken moan, grinding on his thigh harder while gripping onto the counter, it was wrong, you knew it was wrong but it all felt so right. 

“I know he doesn’t, I know you still touch yourself thinking about me, these sweet little fingers-” He grabbed your hand, nipping your finger tips with his teeth, “-aren’t enough are they baby, his cock isn’t enough, you need mine, huh doll?” 

You tried to shake your head but you nodded instead, there was no point in lying now. Bucky growled, grabbing your hips, helping you rock yourself on him more. 

“Tell me you need my cock”

“I-I need-fuck-”

“Say it baby, tell me you need me to fill your pussy up”

“B-Bucky” Your thighs squeezed together around his, your body nearly trembling feeling his lips suck onto your neck. 

“That’s not what you call me, c’mon, say it”

“Daddy” 

“That’s it” He cooed, sliding his hands down your panties, finding your soaked cunt dripping for him, your body easily betraying you. “So wet for daddy already” He shoved his fingers up your needy cunt, crooking them to rub against your sweet spot making you bite down onto his bare shoulder to keep your screams down. 

“Tell daddy you want his fat cock baby”

“Wan’ it daddy” You nearly wailed at the stretch of his fingers alone, nothing compared to the feel of the cool metal scissoring and pumping in you, moving faster. Bucky could tell by the way you bit down harder, your nails digging into his skin, you were close. He pulled his fingers out, shoving them in his mouth instead, greedily sucking off your arousal. 

“MMmgh, God you’re so sweet- Fuck this” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder, taking you straight to his room and throwing you onto his bed. He got rid of his sweats and brief's within seconds, stripping you naked immediately after. He crawled on top of your body, parting your legs, his warm breath fanning your face. You whined at the feel of his length rutting against your core, a part of your brain screaming at you to stop. 

“Bucky, we can’t” You couldn't help but spread your legs further, bringing your thighs up. 

“Can’t what” His hand snaked down to line his cock up, rubbing the head onto your clit. 

“I-you know I can’t” You shook your head, panting as he pressed against it further, making you moan. 

“You don’t want it?” He nudged his tip against your clenching pussy, prodding against your entrance leaving you reeling. “Tell me”

“Bucky, please, I-” 

“Please what princess”

“We can’t, we can’t we can’t we-oh god, fuck, FUCKK” You threw your head back as he pushed his cock into your soaked pussy, not wasting any time, his hips snapping, pounding you into the mattress. Your legs wrapped around his waist, crying and chanting his name as his cock hit all the right spots, stretching you the way you craved. 

Bucky moaned into your neck, your pussy gripping onto him, puling him back in with each thrust, fluttering and clenching around him. 

“M’never letting you go again” Bucky grabbed your writs, pinning them against the bed above your head, pulling his knees up to fuck you deeper. “I need you” 

“Fuckkkk James” Tears streaked your face, the silky tip of his cock rubbing and stroking your sweet spot repeatedly, his balls slapping against your ass. 

“O-only I can make you moan like this” He picked his pace up, fucking you harder, sitting back on his heels and holding your legs apart. “Don’t think i didn’t hear you sweets, touching yourself thinking about me even when you were with him” 

He spat onto your clit, his thumb rubbing soft circles making your back arch in pleasure. 

“I touched myself to you too baby, thought about you every damn day with my cock in my fist. I missed you so bad, I wanted to fuck and make love to you, wanted every piece of you”

“Please-James”

Bucky got lost in the feeling of you, desperate to be as close as possible. He dropped your legs, falling on top of you and wrapping his arms around your body. He rolled you over so you were on top, holding you close while he thrusted up into you. 

“I’ll never let you go again y/n, you’re mine, you’re all fucking mine baby” 

“Don’t let me go James” You moaned into his neck, clinging onto his body while his cock throbbed, his pace growing sloppy. 

“No, look at me” His eyes were glassy, one hand cupping your face to make you look at him. “I love you, I fucking love you, please princess” He fucked you harder, his moans mixed with yours filling the room, your lips brushing against his. “Fuck- I love you” 

“I love you” You cried out, your pussy fluttering, the band in your belly about to snap. 

“Cum for me baby, c’mon, cum on my dick, make a mess on me, soak my cock and balls with your cum angel, give it to me”

“JAMES FUCK” Your orgasm ripped through your body, falling limp on him while he pounded up into you, your moans and screams bouncing off the walls. Bucky held you tighter, his cock twitching unable to hold back any more, his balls pulled tight to his body.  

“M’gonna cum” He moaned, desperately holding onto  you while you kissed him, swallowing his moans. “Oh fuck, m’gonna cum y/n” 

“Cum James, fill me up bubba” You cooed softly in his ear, kissing his temple while he let out a throatily groan, his body tensing, cock swelling. 

“FUCKK M’cumming so. fucking. hard for you baby, it’s all for you God-fuck-it’s all for you” His body stilled, his warm seed filling you till it dripped out. “Wanna be the only one to cum in you like this, you’re mine” He continued to rut into you, whining at the overstimulation, his cock still dribbling with cum “Can’t even stop cumming for you baby, fuck it won’t stop” He continued to moan and lightly thrust into you until he emptied his cock, the sheets damp from his load. 

You both laid in silence, giving each other soft kisses, his arms still secure around you, holding you close to his chest. You couldn't ignore the way your heart fluttered, you shouldn’t have been there, none of this should have happened and yet...

“Stay” 

You looked up at him while he brought you closer, kissing your forehead. 

“Please stay”

“Bucky, you didn’t want me until-

“I was a fucking idiot, I love you, baby please stay” His eyes were pleading with you, clinging onto you tighter. You knew you should have gone back to your room but for some reason this felt right. You melted into his embrace, letting him cuddle you. “You’re mine”

“Bucky, my boy-

“I want to be your boyfriend. Please. I’m sorry sweets, I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I-I want you to be mine” 

You thought for a moment, the way you couldn't pull yourself away from him, falling right into his embrace, not feeling anything for anyone else, all your feelings just for him.

“I’m yours” You mumbled against his skin, falling asleep in his bed, your heart finally back where it belonged. 

(and ofc you break up with your loser boyfriend after, cause he was useless anyway) 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp    

[sabrinbrin]

To no one's surprise the theme park nerd whose favourite character is the little purple mascot has fallen in love with the video game about a theme park with a little purple mascot. In addition to watching playthroughs and secrets videos about Indigo Park I also rewatched the character introduction video and noticed a few things: (spoilers for chapter 1 below!)

In Mollie's intro, UniqueGeese says that she's "a loyal bird who would do anything to protect her friends." This may be why she's the first one to face us, but also why she waits to take us down until after we fend off Lloyd. (While we technically don't see her head on until after then, she does show up multiple times on the train ride, including very close behind us in Lloyd's section, and probably could have killed us sooner if she wanted.) We weren't seen as a threat until our critter cuff causes Lloyd to flee in the theatre, and from there she may have decided to target us to try and protect everyone.

In the cast intro video UniqueGeese also speaks about how Mollie's his favourite, which makes it surprising that she's the first to die and makes me think that we're not done with her quite yet (though he did say on a recent livestream that we wouldn't be seeing her for the next few chapters, so this is just my speculation).

In Lloyd's intro, it states that he "struts across the stage with an air of arrogance that could rival any monarch. He's friends with the main cast, but he's really starting to push it." I think this may be why Rambley doesn't like him, and I wouldn't be surprised if we learn that other members of the cast dislike him too.

For some reason, Finley's intro censors that he collects sea shells. While it's understandable that some info aside from his name and image would be censored to preserve some mystery prior to the game's release, it strikes me as odd because it seems like a small and innocuous detail when stated in chapter 1. As well, Salem, a character who we are shown a lot less of and is still shrouded in mystery, has no extra details censored from their intro.

Not lore related but Salem uses they/them pronouns! Just wanted to add it because I've seen people online asking about their gender.

Speaking of Salem, their intro says that they're "quick, cunning, but try to hide it with their 'punk' exterior." Being quick and cunning don't strike me as things to be hidden with a punk exterior, and while I may just be looking deeper where I shouldn't, this leads me to think that Salem may have a softer side we haven't seen yet. This combined with the later note that they "can use countless inventions to get out of a sticky situation" makes me think that they may actually help us later on, despite their actions in the arcade game showcasing them as a villain.

My only note for Rambley is that his intro states he can get "a bit too excited, [but he's] always there for his friends" which fits what we've seen so far. I think he's trustworthy and just happy to see someone back in the park, and that if he does turn on us it will be against his will (though this is my own speculation and not from the intro).

Not from the character intros, but in another video (specifically the one about the knockoff merch), UniqueGeese says that we receive an item from Rambley in chapter 1 that will be used a lot more later on in the game. I think it's safe to say that's the critter cuff (as it's the only item we get from Rambley directly), and I'm curious to see what more it can do – so far, we know it can get us into various areas, fend off attacking mascots with a specific frequency (from Lloyd's encounter), and will eventually be able to resuscitate us (possibly being a checkoff's gun to be used later).

[wellmetmat]

There's a post from a couple of years ago which I was reminded of and wanted to add to today, about nobody wanting to take the supplicant role in courtship, but it's unrebloggable due to some constraint the OP put on it, so I'll just quote my bit:

Being attracted to someone is distressing. I think the largest part of it is hunger to know someone (?); but when you can’t get to know them well, it ends up a stunted obsession: all that drive-to-know - enough to build a deep, detailed model of another personality - chewing over scraps of phrases and trivial actions, until you’re snappishly bored with your own mind. Your skin feels hungry and there’s nothing you can do about it: “touch starvation” is a phrase that comes to mind. The person’s absence and their presence both hurt: absence obviously, presence because once you’re there you find that there’s still distance, you still miss them. It’s rather like homesickness. Courting someone is wretched. It’s frightening and humiliating and full of agonising waiting periods and jarring mood switchbacks. It feels something like being dragged along on a fishhook, with the line attached to another person’s little finger. Liking someone more than they like you is a position of low power. The incentives are to be servile. You have nothing to bargain with: whatever they decide, you agree to with a smile. You always try to sound happy, because that’s what’s most appealing. You give up on areas of confusion instead of trying to understand, because asking questions annoys people and any annoying act pushes you closer to the cliff-edge of losing them. Any small disagreement feels like a large risk, so you distort your own opinions a bit. You can’t be spontaneous; your inner voice is always tallying accounts: how many days since the last message, too few, you mustn’t bother them yet / how many days since you came up with something interesting, too many, they may forget; don’t intrude so much, but simultaneously what have you done for them lately, how can you provide value to justify remaining in their life. It seems bad that we’re like this. I don’t imagine humans are especially badly formed or anything, it’s probably just as subjectively rotten for every animal that does courtship displays. But if anyone eventually makes robots with emotion-like motivational systems, they shouldn’t include anything like attraction. It’s so silly.

I feel like resurrecting this today to celebrate being out of it. In the last two weeks, somebody has given me the double gifts of liking me and of having the generosity to say so, and show so. All I want to do is be glad and be grateful, and try never to cause this person to experience anything described above.

But I stand by the description, it is a correct description, and we are so badly made it is infuriating. @nohoperadio's good post on the tragic stupidity of pain incidentally also works as a discourse on eros: if there'd been any intelligence involved in the design process, distress signals would come with an off-switch! (Hence my blog tagline.) But instead, evolution is a pitiless idiot, love is humiliation, nonviable attachments take years to starve to death, and there is no moral of the story. Absurd. A baboon could design a better emotional constitution.

Delightfully, this week ACX introduced David Pearce ("For centuries, philosophers have praised suffering as a necessary part of the human condition. For decades, David Pearce has told those other philosophers that they are bad and wrong"), who is doing his best to make a better emotional constitution available, and I approve of such a project so highly that it's been necessary to stack new levels of approval above my previous maximum to encompass how right he is. It's really exciting that any intelligent and active person considers progress of this sort possible and is working on it.

[cripplecharacters]

I have a character Who has dificulty walking without support, he uses a rollator and a manual wheelchair. At this point in the story he is pretty much stuck in an uncomfortable hospital wheelchair as an alternative until his actual mobility aids arrive. Are there any specific details i should add to make the situation more realistic?

Thank you for your ask! I only have experience with hospital chairs, so I’m going to talk about them. One thing you should note is that there are two common types of hospital wheelchairs, one that can be propelled by the user and one that can only be propelled by someone walking behind the chair. The first type isn’t the easiest to use itself, they have tall armrests their wheels are often shorter than most manual chairs, so it becomes uncomfortable to push after a while. The tall backs also limit trunk and shoulder movement, but it can be good if your character needs the extra support! All this means he’ll experience more arm/shoulder exhaustion and eventually pain than in a manual.

These types of chairs also tend to be cheap and break down easily (in my own experience I used a chair with one rear wheel that when pushed just slid and needed a bit to gain enough traction to move, so it often swerved. The wheel breaks stopped working after a bit too). Hospital chairs have no built in cushioning and will get uncomfortable after a few hours, so your character would want some sort of seat cushion (they make cushions for wheelchairs, but in a pinch something like a pillow, folded blanket or even a jacket can help). If your character can’t shift their weight for any reason then cushioning would be extra important to help avoid pressure sores.

One reason people use hospital chairs outside of hospitals is that they’re much cheaper than wheelchairs, especially custom chairs. Your character could be using the chair until he’s able to afford his other aids.

And some general wheelchair stuff; all hospital chairs come with handles, so I’d like to add that some wheelchair users like to add spiked cuffs to their handles to deter people from moving them out of the way or trying to ‘help’ unwanted. These cuffs can be made easily (they’re any cloth and spikes that can be bought in bulk for very little, though I’ve also seen people diy spikes using soda cans). The handles can also be used to hold something like a backpack if he doesn’t need to be pushed, though the backpack shouldn’t be too heavy or it might cause the chair to tilt back. You can also choose if your character would use sports gloves to prevent blisters, or if they’d rather form calluses without them.

Have a lovely day!

Mod Rot

[krysmcscience]

Aww, look at these cute lil kiddos, they couldn't possibly be-

-oh, wait, no, never mind. They're evil.

I'll clean up and color these sketches eventually. Also, goofy headcanon stuff under the readmore if anyone cares. XD;

The Mystic Seller's mention of Leshy's ascension to godhood got me wondering what sort of mortals the Bishops used to be before they were gods, and how the five of them are even siblings. Unless some Real Weird Genetic Fuckery is going on, I have severe doubts they're related by blood, so...Found Family...? Yes, please~ OuO

So now in my brainspace they start out as a bunch of wretched orphan kids, relying on each other to survive with their own unique skillsets, which they utilize with Extreme Prejudice against anyone who happens to be unfortunate enough to have what they need (food/gold, generally).

Shamura is the leader and tactician (and has some spellcasting know-how as a treat), Kallamar is the lookout and stealth killer (with poisons, though he'll resort to Weaponry Panic if things get dicey), Heket is the thief and explosives fanatic (watch out - she'll steal all your food and then go scorched earth on your crops to make sure you STARVE), and Leshy is the distraction master and trap-digger (and general menace who will bite people's faces). Meanwhile, Narinder gets the short end of the stick as usual, in that his only real skill is Kill People Dead - a silent assassin most times, following Shamura's lead to avoid putting him or his siblings in danger, but if he has to, he's equally fine with just rushing in and going ham with whatever weapons he can get his rude little hands on.

I haven't put much thought into most of their meetings - mainly just that (as the seemingly perpetual outlier of the five) Narinder was the last to be brought into their little family. He was already pretty decent at killing to survive, unwittingly massacred a camp of the quartet's latest targets on his own, fell into one of Leshy's pit traps on the way out, and was later found by both Leshy and Heket, who only resisted firebombing Narinder's fun new pit-home when Kallamar found their targets already dead, after which Shamura saw the value in offering Narinder a place in the family. Naturally, he accepted, since the choice was a logical one for survival's sake, but inwardly, he latched onto Shamura pretty hard as a source of guidance and companionship - and, eventually, comfort. Because I gotta add that lovely source of OOF.

The biggest OOF this headcanon creates, though, is that Narinder used to be the one protecting his siblings. :3c Until...ya know. They needed protecting from him. >:3c I do tend to headcanon the whole betrayal thing to be rather less unprovoked on his part, though, because I read too much into the few details canon gives us on that front, and this fucker has become my precious little meow meow, okay??? >:[

I needed to be in bed hours ago lol, why do I do this