#I just couldn't write it concisely :')

[the-pessimist-and-his-cat]

Hi! I wanted to ask you about something. We all know what Way did which left Babe heartbroken.. and it was horrible, but when Babe saw Way dying (yeah another “I’m alive bit*ch agenda”) he forgave him. But my question is, do you think that Babe forgave him because Way is his friend and deep down he believes that Way can be good person or he did that because he didn’t want to let him die? What if in first season Way would be alive, would it change anything? I mean would Babe behave differently or regret forgiving Way? I hope you know what I mean.. after knowing that Way is alive (as it seems to be) I’m curious what’s gonna be everyone’s reaction

Hello hello!

Funny enough, I read your ask before taking a shower, so I had ample time to think about it like any Maladaptive daydreamer.... debating and making speeches with myself in the shower :)

Be prepared for a loooong ass answer!

Let's get it out of the way (no pun intended) by clarifying one thing:

What Way did was horrible and disgusting. If he had stopped before Charlie's interference, then I would have forgiven him and be like "well, he at least snapped out of it", but he didn't, which meant if Charlie hadn't been there, he would have raped Babe and his justification for such an act was "I get you pregnant, daddy will be happy and leave us be" and I, as an audiance, be like "uhhh... then after the baby is born... then what? You just gonna give your child to Tony to sell it off or raise him like he did with ya'll???? Is that your master plan???" Soooo yeah. He deserves to receive such cold shoulders and insults from Babe and X hunter crew.

Now as for Babe....

It's both the reasons that you mentioned.

He didn't exactly forgive him fully; otherwise, we didn’t have that nightmare scene in the S2 trailer. It shows that Babe still has lingering fears and doubts and feeling betrayed.

I mean, having a very close friend where you considered a family that you didn't have (like Babe's father) or didn't get (like Tony). A brother that you shared ups and downs of your life with, the cheap dinners, the failed novice car racings, the heart-to-heart conversations... and to see that very dear person in your life not only lied to you, not only tried to rape you but mind controlled you into thinking that you are undeserving of having a real love, that everybody is out to get you, that you will be forever alone with just you and him against the cruel twisted world FOR THE PAST 10 YEARS..... gurl.. I.... the more I think about it... the more terrifying and heartbreaking it gets.

But the thing is... as a result of Way's manipulations and Babe's sad past, he's STARVING.

He wants to trust, he wants to love.

He hates to be manipulated and lied to. He hates betrayal....

And yet, he easily forgave Charlie when he hid his connection to Tony and Jeff. He easily forgave him when Charlie told him that he took his powers (see the parallels between Charlie touching Babe's skin to use his absorption powers and Way also doing the same with his mind control powers?) To be honest, that scene of Babe forgiving Charlie was a whiplash that I couldn't digest quick enough. (Sure, it could be lazy writing, but it also aligns with Babe's personality, which him being so starved for affection that he forgives with just a little push.)

Same thing with Charlie faking his death. Babe was just so glad that he didn't even care and forgave him!

Same thing with Babe's father! He didn't fully forgave him, but he hugged him because he was just so glad to have his dad back. The same dad who he was content to have a simple cold meal with because he at least had a family who gave him affection and wasn't alone.

Honestly, Babe is so tragic and vulnerable and beautiful that if he was real, I would have protected him to the death, even from Charlie (that boy did do some shady stuff and treated Babe like a child that couldn't be trusted with his secrets and plans so Charlie...dude... Babe gave you his heart fully... don't fuck it up in season two or else... 🗡 🙂)

As I said, it could be both of your reasons.

Having such a very close friend for 10 years and doing such horrible things to you won’t erase the loving and precious memories that are engraved in your heart and mind and Babe in that moment, when he thought that he lost Way, he forgave him (not fully) so that Way could see this and fight for survival, so that Babe doesn't loss the one brother, one family that he held above all. He even lied to him that he loved him after Way (seemingly) died so that maybe, just maybe, he opens his eyes.

He already thinks Way could go back to the same person he knew, a good loving being who listens to his rants and was with him through thick and thin and I truly believe if Way had been alive by the end of the finale, he still would have continued to forgive him. Sure, their relationship won't be the same anymore. There will never be unguarded smiles, late night cheap dinners, or heart-to-heart small talks, but they would meet (accidentally or through shared acquaintances) and acknowledge each other's presence with a polite nod (maybe even one or two unintentional banter between them) but that's about it.

As of now, if he finds out that Way is alive in S2.... it really really depends on what Way's agenda is and what actions Way takes.

THIS... this is what gonna make their relationship back to what it was (or something as close to it) or damage it beyond repair.

Sorry and thanks for reading this long ass answer :)

P.s. Way is as interesting as Babe because he has sooooo much layers of fucked up angst that's insane!

[shiegra]

TEOM adaptation thoughts

I do also think that it’s fascinating that Till the End of the Moon is almost in a different subgenre, but despite the layers of changes they made I think the vast majority of them show either hard-pressed necessity or a genuine appreciation for and understanding of the strengths of the original text, that tries to keep those strengths incorporated in every change done for the new medium.

And I just think that’s dang cool to be honest.

Obviously it’s not perfect! But all the ways they find to take story elements they had to cut for time and weave them back into the changed story so that it’s economical but still hits the emotional beat the original carried is like. I wanna take notes lol. I feel like in noticing these I’m learning things to take back to writing first and second drafts.

FOR EXAMPLE, in the dream there’s a SECOND Big Misunderstanding where after the split and the one-sided reconciliation while he heals, Sang Jiu teams up with a random demon (because more people came into the dream in the book) and Ming Ye thinks she ~has someone else because he’s misled and it’s just d r a g g e d ON. In the show? They don’t overcomplicate it and they don’t add in unnecessary one dimensional characters with little relevance - their decision to combine two bland side characters into Scholar Pang was similarly FANTASTIC - they simply wrap that misunderstanding into the original awkward arranged marriage deception.

They hit the same story beat while eliminating story bloat and actually adding in extra nuance - because the arranged marriage in the show was told in a more linear fashion and he opened with ‘we can separate if you find someone you actually love and want to marry, I understand neither of us wanted this.’

This being a pre-existing thought lends more credence to the idea that he would be fooled and more melancholy to the idea that now he’s in too deep but doesn’t want to renege on his promise to her at the start.

Somewhere in my head is like ‘make mental note: remember this tactic for attempted use in your own second drafts’ lol. Which is something I should have already known but sometimes having a concrete example to fall back on helps the brain process IMO.

[wolviensabes]

Logan gets jealous so he decides to make sure you know who you belong to. MDNI

I love jealousy scenarios so much. So here is one with Logan <3 Still figuring out how to write him so keep that in mind too. It came out to be much longer than I thought lmaooo. Possibly will revise later but for now I just wanted to get it out.

Rating: Mature/Smut

Warnings: Afab reader, jealous/possessive Wolvie, brief spanking, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), deepthroat/throat fucking, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. Unedited, I worked on this for three days and I'm too lazy.

WC: 5k

The moment you got home, he could smell it. That scent on your jacket, your shirt, your skin. It made his nose scrunch up in a way that was impossible to miss. He glared down at you, his eyes narrowing as that stranger's smell seemed to seep deeper into your skin with every passing second. You, completely oblivious to it all, casually hung up your jacket on the rack, not sensing the tension in the air. As you turned back to face him, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare.

"What's wrong?" you asked, genuinely puzzled by the look on his face, which was now a mix of confusion and anger. His reaction made you take a step back, trying to understand what could have possibly caused such a strong response.

Sure, you weren't stupid. Logan was always protective of you, and maybe it was that asshole in the store who kept pestering you with questions about where certain groceries were located. Maybe it was because he stood so uncomfortably close that his shoulder brushed against yours, or perhaps it was the intrusive hand he splayed on your back. You felt a deep sense of discomfort with his touch, and tried giving him clear and concise instructions, hoping to get the man to leave you alone as quickly as possible. The whole situation made you feel uneasy, and Logan had seen it from down the aisle.

His first instinct was to slice that man into pieces and leave him on the ground, but he couldn't do that. Not in the middle of the grocery store anyway. He could feel his blood boiling and his muscles tensing up as he stared intently at the man walking off, every fiber of his being urging him to take action. You let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate slightly, and turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on the mundane task at hand.

Grocery shopping was one of your least favorite things. You didn't like being around so many people, and that man was a prime example of why.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed the bag of chips you wanted, hoping that the simple act of shopping would help you regain some sense of calmness. You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, just to make sure the man was really gone, before continuing down the aisle to Logan's side.

He said nothing about it, so you assumed he wasn't concerned at all. This lack of reaction from him made you feel a little more grounded and reassured. If Logan wasn't reacting, then maybe that guy was just some harmless idiot and not someone to worry about.

You made the conscious decision to stick next to Logan for the rest of the trip, not bothering to split up and go farther down the aisle as you had done before. The silence between you and Logan seemed to confirm that everything was alright, and you found yourself relaxing more as you walked together.

But you were wrong about his outward stoicism. He was fuming inside.

Not at you, of course, but that man who had the nerve to touch you. Asking where something is in the grocery store already annoyed him, the damn aisles are numbered and have the product written above them. He could've just looked at the signs instead of talking to you and touching you.

Logan let out a deep, throaty growl, staring intensely at you now that you two were back home, the familiar surroundings providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "That bastard really pissed me off," he spat, his voice dripping with anger and frustration, his eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and possessiveness. "The damn nerve of him to come up and touch what isn't his," he continued, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Those deadly blades nearly poking out on instinct.

"That guy is what's bothering you?" you questioned softly, understanding how he might feel after witnessing the stranger be so close to you at the store, having the gall to actually touch you too. You weren't happy about it either, but you tried to keep your cool to show him it didn't bother you, even when it did, so he wouldn't react. "Logan, he was just an assho-"

Your voice was abruptly cut off as his hands slammed forcefully into the wall on either side of your head, creating a resounding echo. He was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath warming your face. The distinct smell of cigar smoke and musk emanated from him, enveloping you in their combined, heady aroma, you could feel your core clench and dampen.

Your heart pounded in your chest at the close proximity, feeling as though it might burst through your ribcage with each passing second. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady and rhythmic, almost hypnotic in the stillness of the moment. His eyes, which were usually dark and troubled, bored into you with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Now, however, they held an expression you could only describe as fierce and feral, a primal emotion that sent shivers down your spine.

"You are mine, princess," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "Clearly, I don't show it enough now do I?" His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises, leaving you breathless as your body was reacting quickly to his words.

His eyes scanned you, running down your body and to your core, his lips upturned in a smirk, "You naughty girl." His voice was gravelly, clearly enjoying the new scent of arousal that he could smell as obvious as a candle burning in front of you. He grabbed you, his calloused hands clasped around the back of your plush thighs and swiftly lifted you up and over his shoulder. He held you still as he turned and carried you effortlessly through the halls and up to your bedroom.

"Logan!" You let out a small yelp as you were effortlessly thrown over his muscular shoulder. He carried you with ease, striding confidently through the room, only to be answered with the quick swing of your body being thrown down onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, the impact bouncing you slightly on the mattress. You looked up at him, standing over you with a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He reached down, tugging your pants off with a swift motion, letting them drop onto the floor by your feet.

"Hush..." he grumbled, his voice carrying a rough edge as he threw his shirt off with a swift motion. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abdomen, packed with well-defined muscles that flexed and rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly to the side. Each movement seemed to highlight his features, he glanced back down at you after he had thrown the shirt off, rolling his shoulders back.

You had seen him shirtless many times before, yet your reaction was always the same. It was as if his physique had a magnetic pull, making it impossible to look away. The sight of him never ceased to leave you in awe, and it seemed each time you saw him like this, you discovered something new to admire.

He lifted his hand slowly, fingers curling tightly to form a fist, and with a deliberate motion, one of his three adamantium blades began to slide out from within him. The slow, smooth sound of it grazing through his knuckles and tender flesh, emerging inch by inch until it was fully exposed, sent a shiver down your spine and made you swallow thickly. The gleam of the claw in the dim light only added to the tension, and you had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to do next.

He leaned down, the claw gently trailing from your knee and up your thigh, moving slowly and deliberately, right up until he reached your center. The sensation was both thrilling and unnerving. Most would flinch at having such a thing near them, the sharp metallic edge so close to their skin, (especially when it came to the person wielding it), but you didn't. You trusted him completely, and while you felt a mix of excitement and slight uncertainty fill you, you stayed still for him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As the claw continued its path until it laid against the center of your panties, you felt goosebumps rise from your skin, each tiny bump cause by the mixture of sensations rushing through you. The cool metal chilled your body, leaving what felt to be an icy trail on your warm skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of your own flesh. The experience was almost surreal, like a dance between fire and ice, and you found yourself lost in the moment, every nerve ending heightened, every touch magnified.

You could sense his intent, the care with which he moved, and it only deepened your trust. He'd never actually harm you, and besides, it was fun to include them. The blade traveled farther up your body, under your shirt until it poked out of your collar near your neck. He glanced at you before jerking his arm back and swiftly tearing your shirt completely in half.

Your gasp was loud and sudden, your eyes widening with shock as you watched him effortlessly rip your shirt off with his sharp claw. He trailed it slowly down your chest, gliding it with a deliberate and almost teasing motion across your body, allowing you to feel its cold, metallic touch on the tender and delicate skin of your soft belly. The claw was lethal, easily capable of inflicting ruthless injury or ending your life in an instant.

But he doesn't, and you know he wouldn't.

The thrill of the danger, the razor's edge between safety and peril, heightened your senses like never before, leaving you acutely aware of every sensation and emotion coursing through you.

You reached down with a deliberate, yet tender motion and gently held his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingers. With careful precision, you guided his hand upwards to your chest, allowing his large palm to come to rest over your breast. His nostrils flared with a sharp breath, signaling his heightened awareness. Your tongue slowly emerged, and you carefully licked the side of his claw, a metallic taste and cool sensation on your taste buds.

The way your tongue slid over the blade, oh so carefully, made him growl and it retracted once he saw your tongue was safely out of the way. You whined quietly, you were having fun teasing him. "You wanna be a tease, do you?" His voice grunted out, he jerked you up and tossed you to the floor, your knees hit the carpet and you whined.

He paused only for a second, then he fiddled with his belt and tugged it out of the loops in one jerk. The act of that made you quiver below him, blinking up as he harshly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and his thick cock sprang out of his boxers. Red and angry, the tip completely blushed and shiny with the precum that had been spread on his tip.

His hand reached for your hair, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer. His cock brushed against your cheek as he used his other hand to position it at your mouth, "Open," he demanded lowly to you. Your jaw relaxed and your lips parted, allowing his salty tip to slide into your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the blushed flesh, tasting and cleaning his sticky cockhead. He grunted in response, a pleased sound ripples through his throat as he pushed himself farther into your warm mouth. Your tongue was a soft cushion for the underside of his dick, he relished feeling it with each thrust into your throat.

Logan's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a possessive intensity. He growled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled you even closer to him. You made a muffled whine, a desperate sound that escaped your lips, your eyes looking up at him from where you were below, wide and pleading. He almost looked completely feral, his eyes wild and dark with an unrestrained hunger. He huffed as his chest rose and fell quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, the tension between you almost palpable.

"You belong to me, princess. I'm going to make sure every single part of you remembers that. Even when I'm done fucking you." Logan growled out, watching his cock disappear in your throat as he thrust his hips forward. The sudden intrusion into your throat made your eyes widen and you gagged, not expecting him to do that.

"That's it, who's cock do you gag on? Mine. Who's cock do you like to suck on, hm?" He angled you more to look at him while keeping himself safely tucked into you mouth, the tip of his dick brushing up and down the fleshy, soft meat on the back of your throat. Bubbles of saliva popped at the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of your throat, each time hitting the back and sliding down.

"Ugh, yeah...that's it...take it down, pup," he chuckled and watched you struggle to take him with each thrust, you still did your best to attempt to swallow all of him, knowing how it drives him crazy seeing you choke. "Slobber all over my cock, mine...the only cock that you get."

Logan grunted lowly, the sound vibrated from his chest and through his throat, his eyes closing as he focused and you could feel his dick twitching inside your mouth. "Here it comes, princess, be a good girl and swallow it." His voice was dominant and demanding, you prepared for his thick, heavy load that was soon to coat your tongue and slide down your throat.

His hips stuttered, his hold in your hair tightened and in one swift thrust, he was sheathed in your mouth. His cum began to flood across your tongue, giving you a slightly salty taste as it continued to spill out of his swollen dick. You had to swallow twice before you could finally breathe again, it felt like he was unloading everything he had. When he pulled out, he watched as his cock popped out, a gasp escaped your throat and your face messy from his thrusts. He grinned down, satisfied with how disheveled you were. "Look at you, such a mess."

You lifted your eyes up, swallowing the rest of his spunk and breathing heavily. You were breathless, your jaw ached and your throat felt bruised for sure. He took a step back and took you in, the image of you ingraining in his brain and blood flowed down to his cock. His fingers ran through your hair lightly but quickly tightened again, lifting you to stand.

Your legs felt shaky and unsteady from sitting on your knees for such a prolonged period, and you were still a bit dazed and disoriented from sucking his cock. The discomfort in your legs was matched by a slight buzzing throb in your head, making it difficult to regain your composure. "Ain't no one makes you such a pretty mess like this but me...you won't forget that. I don't give a damn who hears those sweet little noises that come out of your mouth."

He moved you onto the bed again, this time face down, and your belly hit the mattress with a rough huff. Logan's rough hands ran up the back of your bare thighs and over the round of your ass. "Such a sweet peach, princess..." he grabbed the meat of your ass and spread you open, gazing down at your holes.

He leaned in and inhaled your scent, making you squirm and whine his name, he groaned under his breath in response and spit onto your cunt. You could barely register what he was doing before you felt his tongue push inside and he began lapping at you like a starved man. His tongue curled and gathered as much of you as possible, tasting your arousal from the source as his pupils dilate with desire.

You can't help but moan as he ate you out, his hands kneading and groping your ass as he did so, snarling against your core while his tongue effortlessly assaulted and teased your clit. "You taste so damn good, look at you, soaked already..." he sat up and pushed two fingers inside to stretch you out, making you groan loudly from the sudden intrusion. "Logan!"

"Yeah...you like that don't you...feeling my fingers inside you. Haven't fingered you in a minute huh...feels good? You like when I curl 'em don't you...like..." he adjusted his wrist and he curled his fingers against that sweet, delicate spot inside you that makes you cry out in pleasure. "Yeah...that's it," he chuckled with amusement, hearing your pretty little noises. His calloused fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spongey wall and your legs began to tremble. Your fists gripped the sheets and you cried out against them, your pleasured noise muffled by the blankets. "That's what my girl likes..."

"Logan...oh god..." you whined desperately, rocking back into his fingers, chasing that sweet high that was soon to hit you and explode. "I'm gonna cum..." you rasped and did what you could to drive yourself there, the brink was so, so close...but just as he felt your walls slicken a little and tighten around his fingers, he retracted them. Right before you went over the edge, he denied you, making you groan in frustration. "Logan," you cried desperately and with slight frustration, "I was almost there!"

He had that shit-eating grin on his face, loving how desperate you became when you needed to climax. "Not so fast, sweetheart...I am going to fuck you until you can barely take it. And then some." Logan smacked your ass once, sending a sharp sting up your spine. The noise sounded loudly in the room and making you yelp slightly, your face felt hot and you bit your lip. "Maybe I should lay a few of these to ya...for begging so much...you'd like that wouldn't you? You naughty thing," He gave you another spank and you whined at the stinging sensation.

"L-Logan, please...I-I need you..." your voice was so desperate and pitiful, you could feel his hand on the small of your back, holding you still but not applying pressure. He didn't have to, he knew you'd lay perfectly for him, his pretty girl.

"I know...you need me huh? This poor pussy is so needy for me?" he chuckled, "You about broke my fingers with how tight you were. You gonna be that tight around my cock?" he asked, leaning over your body and placing a hot kiss to the side of your neck. The sensation of his lips on such a sensitive spot almost made you cry out. You felt like your body was on fire.

"Please! Please, I need you inside me! Don't tease me anymore...." your voice begged him, you wanted his cock stretching you out so badly...and he seemed to enjoy your desperation enough to give in. His cock head rubbed between your folds, he grinned and shuddered when he felt just how hot your core was.

Normally he'd just shove himself inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust, but not this time. He loved seeing you needy, especially after that bastard at the store had the audacity to touch you. The mere sight of it made his blood boil and his chest tighten with jealousy. He knew deep down that you hadn't done anything on purpose and that it wasn't your fault, but still, the image of it lingered in his mind. It gnawed at him, filling him with an almost unbearable urge to assert himself. He had to prove something to both you and himself. It was as if an uncontrollable fire had ignited within him, his primal instincts demanding him to take action.

He instead slowly began to push inside, his cock stretching your tight hole and you let out a loud whining cry. It wasn't enough; your desire for him was overwhelming, you craved all of him, every part of his being. Yet, he was deliberate in his actions, taking his time and being slow and precise with you, almost as if savoring each moment. His meticulous approach only heightened your instinctive need, making the yearning even more intense.

When he was fully inside, your cries for him grew even louder, your voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire. Your whining and squirming only intensified as you clung to him, feeling the overwhelming sensation of him deep within you. You wanted him to move, to give you the release you craved, but he remained still, demonstrating an incredible amount of self-control.

The way your body writhed against him drove him absolutely crazy; every movement you made sent shivers down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to hold you down, to keep you in place and listen to those beautiful, intoxicating sounds that escaped your lips, savoring every moment of your shared intimacy.

You were utterly intoxicating to him. His hips finally moved, pumping in and out of you with vigor and passion. Logan's firm hold on your plush hips made him groan and growl against your neck, his warm huffs of breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your skin. Each exhale created goosebumps all over the rest of your body, making you respond with pathetic sounds of pleasure. The heat radiating from him was intense, the man ran hot as it was and it felt like his entire body was a heater on high, intensifying the intimate connection between you both.

As his fingers dug slightly into your soft flesh, his deep desire for you became more apparent when he jerked your body closer to him as he continued to pound himself in and out of your tight cunt. "You love this cock don't you princess? Does it feel good...you are so desperate huh?" he whispered in a throaty, guttural voice, his lips grazing your ear as he held you flush against his body.

You felt tears prick your eyes as the intense feeling began to rush through your body, your pussy was so sensitive and he just kept pounding you. "Mhm....nngh yes..." you rasped weakly, "S-so good...so good Logan...y-you're making me bulge down there..." Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the lower part of your abdomen slightly show his dick from when he sunk into your sex.

"Only I get to make you scream and cry like this, hm? Only me. You love when I fuck you like an animal don't you? Do you want that?" he pushed you back into the bed, your arms wrapped around the pillow for any kind of support as you cried and felt him begin to pound into you even harder. The feeling of your slick warming even more from the friction made you scream in delight. It felt so incredible, no man has ever made you feel so fulfilled before...

"M'gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, gonna fill this pretty belly with my cum and watch you swell up. Then no one will touch you. You're claimed, no one will ever come up and touch you again, you're all mine," Logan hissed lowly and angled your hips up slightly, his cock hitting your cervix and teasing it with the promise of his cum.

Your body reacted to his movements by squeezing him, your velvet walls tightened around his dick and tried milking him even more as he thrusted and claimed you as his own. "My good girl...nngh...takin' my cock so good, fuckin' you to tears hm? No one else can get you this way, can they?" he growled against your skin, holding you desperately close as his hips drove into you more and more.

"Logan, I'm gonna cum...please, let me cum," you whined pitifully, tears rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing your body. Every word that came from his mouth went straight to your clit and you were attempting to milk him before he was ready to climax himself.

"So needy... You really want to? You think you deserve it?" he asks in a low, almost mocking tone, chuckling to himself as he watches you with an intense gaze. Your tears stream down your face, and you mewl pathetically, your desperate cries echoing in the room, each sound seemingly fueling his amusement even more.

The scent of your arousal filled his nose and it drove him into you even more, his His hips stuttered, attempting to push faster than before, driven by a desperate need to increase the pace. Logan groaned deeply, the sound resonating through the room, his arms tightly wrapped around your midsection, pulling you closer. His muscular chest tightened with effort, every sinew straining as he used all the power he had to continue pounding you with relentless intensity. His skin, now slick with a light layer of sweat, pressed damply against your back, providing a heated contrast to the cool air. His chest hair was slightly tousled and damp, scratched along the skin of your back as his hips thrusted.

"Logan, I can't hold it any longer...please let me-" you rasped desperately, your entire body trembling and screaming at you to let it all go. Every muscle was tense, fighting against the overwhelming urge, yet you craved his permission more than anything. You needed to hear him say you could, to feel that moment of release granted by his word...

"Alright pretty girl, come for me, let it out, cum all over my cock...let me know how good I make you feel~" Logan urged you on and his hands roamed up your body, grasping your breasts and gently pinching and rolling your nipples in his index and thumb. That was all your body needed to go over the edge.

You felt an intense wave of adrenaline and warmth spread from your core, radiating throughout your entire body. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you cried out Logan's name, your voice a mix of desperation and euphoria. As your head became fuzzy and dazed, the feeling of pure ecstasy washed over you, filling your senses to the brim. You were completely overcome by the powerful emotions, your body trembling with the intensity as his cock mercilessly continued to pound into you.

"Ohh yes...that's it princess...let it out baby...cream on my dick," he groaned in your ear, the sound making you clench harder, if that were possible. His hips finally began to falter and he leaned over you to let gravity help his rutting. "M'gonna fill you up, til y'r dripping with me." Logan's eyebrows were knit tight and he let out a loud groan as his hips finally stopped, pushing hard against you as he reached his peak.

His cock kissed against your swollen cervix and he unloaded his orgasm deep into you, shooting rope after hot rope of cum until you were so full it began to ooze out around him. The sensation of it dripping down his balls made him snarl, he pulled out just enough to see it slowly coming out of your pretty, swollen pussy before he used his cock to swipe it up and push it back in.

"Keep it in there, sweet girl...keep all of me in you. You love it, being so full of my seed it leaks out of you." He reached around and teasingly wrapped his hand around your neck to give a gentle squeeze.

You, in a complete daze, so high on your climax you could barely think. He hadn't fucked you this hard in so long. You babbled lightly, attempting to form coherent words, but you weren't able to construct a complete sentence. He chuckled softly, his warm breath and lips brushing lightly against your temple. "Atta girl...so dizzy," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did I make you feel good? Hm?" Logan almost purred against you, his voice low and soothing, as you felt the gentle vibrations of his chest reverberate against your back, adding a comforting aspect to the intimate moment.

"Now, now...you just rest. You did so good for me." He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you to lay on him and reluctantly pulling himself out of you. "We can clean up later...right now, I want you here." He held your body close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he adjusted a bit to make you more comfortable.

He felt pride and satisfaction when he smelled you, leaning down to inhale lightly. He no longer sensed that awful stench the stranger had left on you from before. Now, it was just his own scent imbedded in your skin, his claim on your was loud and clear to him and it would be to everyone else too. He continued to hold you, his warmth surrounding you, creating a cocoon of security.

You were far too tired to argue. Every bone in your body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force, and the idea of cleaning up seemed like an insurmountable task. You would clean up later, but for now, you needed a moment to recover from your high and daze. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and the only thing grounding you was his presence and firm arms wrapped around your body. You were happy laying with him, despite that smug ass smirk he had on his face when he observed you. His eyes had a glint of amusement, and you didn't know why he seemed so full of himself until you saw yourself in the mirror half an hour later.

When you caught your reflection, you were shocked to find your skin covered in dark bruises, all adorning your neck and shoulders. It was then you understood the reason behind Logan's self-satisfied expression. There was no way you could cover these, and he made sure of that.

"Logan!!"

That bastard.

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by leaving a 🧡.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[cherrylovelycherry]

Pls make me another poly with ratio and aven. Make another and my life is YOURS

I'm hungry for angst

Girl don't judge me, I'm using translator for this JDNAIJDHD

.note. HEYY, omg i gotcha anon!! tbh, I loved writing the poly angst. hope you like it, I think I overdid it with the words oopsie ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

i don't know if you speak spanish but, shadow freddy vuelta al ruedo

i will post part 2 tomorrow mueheh

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Contracts and preferences pt.1 pt.2

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, argument, some slow burn again, slight being left out, some nsfw in pt.2, negligent attitudes synopsis. you went from being “decoration” and “ partner” to “ servant” and “assistant”. full menu

They knew you were there, didn't they?

You were sure you did, you knew, you knew they would come to take you in their arms and fill you with affection. 

Or at least that's what you longed for. 

You were sitting at the dining table, trying to plan schedules and meetings for each of them. 

Since, after all, you were both their assistant. 

To put the situation in context, you concise them both separately, not knowing that they were a couple before. 

You worked at the ipc, for Aventurine, while at the same time, you also worked for the Intelligentsia Guild, specifically being the assistant of Ratio. 

The connections you made at the Guild helped you to be at the IPC too. 

You gave them a sideways look, again, it would be the fifth time you do it in almost ten minutes. 

You never complain about your job, you always think that if it weren't for that, you wouldn't have been able to meet the two men you're dating now. 

But it felt unfair sometimes. 

You were at the table, with thousands of documents and making calls, while they were on the couch, curled up and even getting a little more affectionate. 

Of course you were happy for them, you loved them both and they loved you too, their affection was mutual, but sometimes... it was really something.

For example, Ratio, with no shame, began to cover Aventurine's neck and jaw with a few small kisses, while the other laughed discreetly and also played with his hair in a discreet way. 

You let out an audible sigh.

Aaand, nothing.

The two were already on the sofa, snuggled up against each other, watching some movie, but not even the slightest bit watching it. 

You knew it, they were just looking for an excuse to get closer to each other, and they were taking every opportunity they could. 

They whispered sweet words to each other, caressed each other's backs, made small, playful comments that caused a few giggles, and their eyes didn't leave each other's. 

You had to admit, the atmosphere they created was quite... Intimate.

You let out a small sigh again, in a somewhat exaggerated way, the sound getting their attention almost immediately. 

They both knew it. 

But they decided to play dumb, just this once. 

"Tired?" Asked Aventurine first. 

"Overworked?" Ratio followed, as he tried to get up to get to you.

You rolled your eyes, but not out of irritation, but more because this was a fairly common occurrence. 

"Yeah," you replied, "and a little tired of being all alone here." 

Ratio, walking over to you and resting a gentle hand on your shoulder while he stood behind you. 

"We'll give you some attention," he said.

"Will you?" You asked, arching an eyebrow as you continued to go through the documents in front of you.

Aventurine stood up, making his way to the two of you, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking at the papers you were reading. 

"We'll give you all you want," he whispered right next to your ear. 

"Well..." you replied with feigned indifference, but your words were full of expectation, "prove it."

The two of them looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes, before Ratio began to place light kisses down your neck.

You couldn't help but shiver, trying to control yourself. 

At your reaction, Ratio chuckled against your skin, and, just to tease you, gave your sensitive skin a little bite, causing your shoulders to arch involuntarily. 

A low, suppressed sound escaped your lips. 

Meanwhile, Aventurine's hands traveled to one of your shoulders, gently massaging them.

"You've been working too much," he whispered in your other ear, "haven't you?"

"Yeah..." you admitted in a low whisper, as the two continued to pamper you. 

"We should take care of you," said Ratio, continuing to give you little kisses and bites.

"We should," agreed Aventurine, leaving a brief kiss on your head.

Their ministrations continued for a while, their hands and mouths roaming gently over your shoulders, neck, and back.

The feeling was so good, you couldn't help but moan softly.

By now, you had both men behind you and surrounding you completely, their touches and affections slowly but surely getting heavier and more intense.

You felt Aventurine's hands move to your hips, gently pulling you closer against his body as Ratio continued to kiss your neck.

It was a bit embarrassing to admit it, but you were really enjoying all that attention. 

...

Okay, maybe you anticipated a bit. 

The 'we should take care of you', stayed in 'we should'. Literally. 

Heavyweights and affectionate touches were maintained, even the three of you moved to the couch, for comfort. 

The raised caresses calmed down after a while, letting you put your head on Aventurine's legs, while Ratio did gentle massages on your body. 

At least that 10 minutes ago, since you had your eyes closed, but you started to feel a hard thing behind your head. 

And by the time you noticed, they were both kissing, with the same intensity and desire. 

"Hey, guys," you spoke up, a bit annoyed, but they didn't seem to notice.

Instead, they were even getting more intense, as the small sounds of them echoed quietly in the room.

"Guys," you called out again, in a slightly louder voice.

A low moan escaped Aventurine's lips, while Ratio's hands ran over his hair.

And far apart from that, you felt the Aventurine member accidentally rubbing against your head every time they moved to eat their mouths.

"Please," you said, slightly frustrated, "you guys!" At the same time, you also got up from Aven's legs, sitting in the space between them. 

They finally broke apart, a bit breathless, their lips red and glistening with saliva. 

They both looked at you, slightly surprised that you'd interrupted them.

"What's wrong...?" Ratio finally asked, still a little out of breath.

"Are you alright?" Aventurine added, trying to recompose himself.

You huffed softly, feeling a bit disappointed. 

"Uhm, if you two are in _the_ mood, you can go to the room," you said calmly. 

The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, a silent conversation happening between them.

"Are you sure...?" Aventurine asked, turning his gaze back to you.

"You don't mind?" Ratio added, studying your expression.

You tried to appear calm and understanding, but deep down, you were still a bit frustrated. The sight of the two of them all hot and bothered without you was really... a bit unfair.

"No, it's okay," you said, trying to remain calm. "You two can go ahead." 

They studied you a bit more, trying to discern if you were being honest or not. 

But you smiled at them, trying to reassure them that you were fine with it. 

They both shared another look, before Ratio got up from the couch and held out his hand to Aventurine.

Aventurine grabbed Ratio's hand, standing up in one smooth movement. 

They were still looking at you, obviously still reluctant to leave you alone.

"Are you sure?" Ratio asked again, as Aventurine stayed silent.

You nodded, trying to maintain a reassuring smile. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied. "I'll just finish up some more work, and I'll join you guys later."

"Mhm, okay, love," Aven replied, as he nodded, with a slight smile. 

The two men walked past you, heading towards the bedroom door, Ratio's hand still intertwined with Aventurine's. 

You stayed rooted to the spot.

You knew they had needs, and you had nothing against them satisfying them together. 

But it's just... you couldn't shake off the strange feeling in your chest.

Ratio and Aventurine went to the bedroom, closing the door. 

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit frustrated. 

Of course, you were happy for them, their relationship was strong and had a deep connection, but... it didn't stop you from feeling slightly 'left out'.

You leaned fully back on the couch, letting out a low sigh.

'Nah, maybe I'm exaggerating', You thought as you got off the couch, to go back to the table. 

You made your way back to the table, sorting out the documents. 

As you organized everything, you couldn't help but overhear small noises coming from the bedroom. 

Even though the door was closed, the sounds of Ratio and Aventurine, clearly enjoying themselves, were still faintly audible. 

You tried to ignore it, to focus on your work, but it was hard. Each time you heard a small sound, a small whine, it sent a little shiver throughout your body.

The more you tried to concentrate, the more the sounds seemed to get louder and more intense.

You tried to shake off the thoughts running through your mind and concentrate on your work, but as time passed, you found it more and more difficult to ignore the sounds coming from the bedroom.

Moans, whispers, muttered words, and the sound of the bed creating through the room.

You had no right to be jealous, you had told them to go for it, you had encouraged them. 

And so, you focused only on paperwork and arranging schedules. 

You dropped a yawn while you stopped typing on the laptop. 

You stretched a little while getting up from the chair. 

You didn't realize when the erotic sounds coming from the room had been ceased. 

When you finally noticed the absence of sounds, a small pang of confusion and sadness hit you in the chest.

Of course, you told them to go ahead, and maybe they were already... done, but still, you felt a little pang of disappointment.

But it was fine, since you didn't really think about the room for a while to join, as you told them. 

You were finishing stretching when the bedroom door opened, a slightly disheveled Ratio peeking his head out of the room.

You looked at him, a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" You asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.

Ratio looked at you for a few seconds, his breath still a bit heavy. 

"Can you come here for a second...?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse from... the situation in the room.

You tried to remain unfazed, even though the request was an unexpected one.

"Sure," you said with nonchalance in your voice.

You made your way to the bedroom, Ratio moving aside to let you enter. 

As you stepped in, you were met with Aventurine, sitting on the edge of the bed, hair tousled and a few love bites on his neck and shoulders.

The sight of Aventurine in that state sent another pang to your chest, but you tried to hide it. 

He looked at you, a slight tiredness in his eyes, as a small smile appeared on his lips.

"You finished your work?" He asked, his voice also slightly hoarse.

"Almost..." you replied, avoiding looking at the small hickeys on his skin for too long.

"You two were quick," you commented half-jokingly, trying to maintain the same casual tone from before.

Ratio chuckled softly, leaning on the doorframe as he watched the interaction.

"It wasn't really that quick," he said with a smirk.

Aventurine shook his head, giving Ratio a side look before turning his attention back to you.

"We're just... impatient," he said, with a slight hint of teasing in his voice. 

You grimaced, while you laughed somewhat uncomfortable. 

You tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling, but the sight of them both, disheveled and still somewhat out of breath, wasn't helping.

"Right," you said, still trying to keep up the act.

There was a small moment of silence in the room, Ratio's gaze darting between you and Aventurine, as if he was waiting to see how the situation would unfold.

"Uhm, do you need anything?" You asked, seeing that they weren't going to say anything. 

Besides, you didn't really know why you were called into the room. 

"Oh, yes," Ratio said. 

"Can you take out clean sheets? I'm going to bring water to Aven," he added, as he left the room. 

 "Okay," you replied simply, watching Ratio disappear into the hallway.

You turned your gaze to Aventurine.

He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a bit worn out and sated.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of something in your chest, as you couldn't help but steal a glance at the marks on his neck and shoulders. 

You let out a silent sigh before heading to some drawers next to the bed. 

'It's okay, It'll be your turn' you thought as you focused on pulling out a set of clean sheets. 

  You were in a relationship with the two, and you knew that they had... desires, and needed that physical intimacy.

You tried to understand their need, and you also tried to not feel 'bad' about being left out.

But at the same time, you couldn't help but wonder if your presence was really necessary.

Your thoughts were interrupted, you felt Aventurine approaching you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

He placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing his body against yours.

"You're being quiet..." he murmured near your ear.

You felt the warmth of his body and the soft touch of his arms around you, making you momentarily forget all the thoughts and doubts that were swirling around in your mind.

You leaned gently against him, taking a deep breath.

"Just thinking..." you replied, your voice a little tense. 

You finished taking out the sheets, and you stand still, waiting for it to come loose, which didn't happen, so you moved a little. "uhm, can you...?" 

Your voice is tense and uncomfortable. 

Aventurine noticed the change in your tone, and he loosened his grip on you, stepping back slightly.

He gently turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips, a touch of worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay...?" He asked, "His voice low and gentle."

You averted your gaze slightly, feeling a mixture of emotions that you couldn't quite make sense of.

"Yup," It was the only thing you answered, and then you went to bed and started removing the dirty sheets. 

Aventurine watched you silently, his gaze fixated on your body.

He could feel the tension in your movements and the subtle stiffness in your voice. He knew that something was bothering you, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was. 

He decided to give you some space, allowing you to remove the sheets, but he still stood beside you, his eyes never leaving you.

After a few moments, Ratio came back into the room, a glass of water in his hand.

He handed it to Aventurine, who took it gratefully and took a few sips before setting it on the bedside table.

There was a strange atmosphere in the room, as if something were left hanging in the air. 

You felt like they were looking at you, as you finished putting the clean sheets on the bed. 

It was hard to ignore their stares, and the fact that you were alone with them in the room made the tension even more palpable. 

You finished putting on the sheets and took a subtle deep breath. 

You could practically feel the weight of their gazes on your back, even though you knew that both of them were trying to hide their concern and curiosity. 

"There..." you muttered, finally turning around to face them.

Ratio was leaning against the wall nearby, his arms crossed, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

Aventurine was still standing beside you, his gaze fixed on you, as if studying your every move.

For a few seconds, there was just a heavy silence, as the two of them looked at you waiting for you to say something.

But what should you say? You felt a mixture of contradictory emotions.

"You can rest now," you said, calmly speaking. 

Your voice sounded calm, but on the inside, you were still feeling a mixture of unease and disappointment.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a glance, clearly understanding your cue that the conversation was over. 

Aventurine didn't make a move, still watching you.

Ratio, sensing the tension in the room, walked over to Aventurine's side, gently pushing him towards the bed.

"Come on," Ratio murmured, his tone soft but firm. "You should rest."

Aventurine didn't object, allowing Ratio to gently guide him onto the bed.

He sank back against the pillows, looking at you with a mix of tiredness and worry. Ratio sat down beside him, also looking at you.

"Are you...?" Ratio started to ask, but you interrupted him.

"I'm fine," you said, still doing your best to appear casual, "I just need to... go to the bathroom."

You used the excuse of needing to use the bathroom to get away for a few minutes.

Ratio and Aventurine looked at you for a moment, their gazes following you as you left the room.

As soon as you closed the door to the bathroom behind you, you let out a soft sigh, bracing your hands on the sink.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror.

Your expression was a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts. You knew that what you were feeling was silly, but at the same time, you couldn't help it.

Your relationship with Ratio and Aventurine was unconventional, you knew that they had needs and desires, and they had each other to satisfy those needs. 

But what about you...?

It was a thought that had crossed your mind several times before.

You tried to convince yourself that they cared about you, that they loved you.

But at times like this, when they were alone in their intimate moments, you couldn't help but feel... left out.

You knew that they weren't trying to exclude you, that they weren't being malicious, but it still hurt. 

You sighed, patting yourself on the cheeks, before leaving the bathroom and returning to the room. 

Ratio and Aventurine were still on the bed, now settled under the covers.

Aventurine's eyes were partly closed, as the exhaustion from the previous activities was starting to take its toll.

Ratio, however, was still slightly tense, his eyes locking on you as soon as you entered the room.

You walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to Ratio.

For a moment, no one spoke. The only sounds in the room were the soft breathing of Aventurine and the silence that seemed to weigh upon all of you.

Ratio shifted slightly, moving closer to you, his hand gently moving to your thigh.

Ratio's touch was gentle and comforting, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

You didn't want to ruin the moment. You didn't want to make them feel bad for seeking their comfort in each other's embrace.

You looked at Aventurine, who seemed to be moments from falling asleep.

His hair was messy, and the skin on his neck was still showing some red marks. 

Although you felt an uncomfortable heaviness in your chest, with your fingers, you accommodated the hair that covered Aven's face. 

Aventurine's face relaxed under your touch, his breathing still calm and steady.

Ratio's grip on your thigh tightened a little, and you could feel his gaze fixated on you.

"You know..." Ratio began, his voice low. "We... We didn't mean to make you feel left out."

You paused for a few seconds, unsure of what to say.

"Mhm, i know" you whispered, still running your fingers through Aventurine's hair.

"I'm tired."

The word hung in the air, and Ratio sighed softly.

"Come here," he said, gently pulling you down to lie next to him.

You complied, feeling Ratio's strong arms encircling your waist, pulling you against his chest.

The feeling of Ratio's body against yours was comforting, but there was still a nagging feeling at the back of your mind.

You snuggled into Ratio's embrace, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart.

"We love you," Ratio murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

You closed your eyes in response, feeling a mixture of both comfort and unease.

You wanted to believe Ratio's words.

But at the same time, you couldn't help but doubt. 

 The morning sunlight streamed in through the cracks of the curtains, gently illuminating the bedroom.

The peaceful silence in the room was broken by a soft, groggy groan.

"Hmm, what time is it...?" Aventurine mumbled half-sleep, shifting slightly in the bed.

You had gotten up before them, starting to prepare their breakfasts, and ending with the day's schedule for each. 

Ratio stirred beside him, slowly waking up as well, his messy hair sticking every which way.

Aventurine groaned again, finally opening his eyes, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the morning light.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness.

"Ugh... I feel like I slept for days," he said with a yawn, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

He looked around the room, noticing that you were not in bed.

"Where's..." Aventurine began, his eyes scanning the room, noticing that it was just the two of them.

Ratio sat up as well, groaning as he stretched his arms above his head, the muscles in his back tensing with the movement.

He glanced over at Aventurine, following his gaze.

"They're probably in the kitchen," Ratio said, voice sleepy and still slightly rough from sleep.

"I think we slept pretty late." he commented again, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

Aventurine followed Ratio's gaze, noticing the time.

"Damn... it's almost noon," he muttered, climbing out of the bed and stretching. 

"I guess we're in for a lazy day."

Ratio chuckled softly, still sitting on the bed, the covers half-covering his bare chest.

"I guess so," he agreed, his eyes flickering over Aventurine's disheveled form.

Aventurine paused, noticing Ratio's gaze on him. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to smooth it down.

"What?" he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Ratio smirked. "You just look... well, pretty wrecked after our little... session last night."

Aventurine rolled his eyes, but a small smirk played on his lips, betraying his attempt to appear annoyed.

"Shut up," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the sheets to slip lower, exposing more of his bare skin.

Ratio chuckled again, amused by Aventurine's reaction. He stood up from the bed and walked over to him, stopping a few inches away, to kiss him and get out of the room. 

Just as Aventurine was getting out of bed, finishing stretching, he heard a curse and a sound of a cup breaking. 

That made him leave the room quickly. 

By the time he gets to the kitchen, his frow frowned. 

"Fuck..." you let go again, grimacing, while holding one of your hands. 

When Ratio had left the bedroom first, you didn't hear his footsteps so when you turned with the hot cup of coffee, you were scared to see him there, causing the cup to fall to the ground after burning with the liquid inside. 

Both Ratio and Aventurine were now watching you carefully.

Ratio's expression was a mixture of concern and guilt, knowing that he startled you. 

Aventurine's frown deepened as he noticed the way you were holding your hand. 

"Are you okay?" Ratio asked, his voice soft and filled with worry.

Aventurine stepped closer to you, eyes fixated on your injured hand.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at the shattered cup on the floor and the spilled coffee.

"It's nothing," you tried to assure them, though you couldn't hide the slight wince that escaped you when you tried to move your hand. 

The burn wasn't that serious, but it hurt. 

Ratio moved closer, his eyes drifting from your hand to your face.

"Let me see," he said, gently taking your hand in his, examining the burn.

Aventurine stood close by, his gaze fixed on Ratio as he carefully inspected your injury.

Ratio's touch was gentle as he examined the burn, his fingers tracing over the reddened skin.

"It's not too bad, but you shouldn't move your hand too much," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I'll get something to treat it."

He released your hand, moving to a nearby cabinet to get the necessary medical supplies, while Aventurine took a step closer to you.

Ratio rummaged through the cabinet, gathering a few supplies to treat your burn.

Aventurine watched Ratio, his gaze drifting from Ratio's focused expression to your now free hand.

He hesitated for a moment, but then he gently reached out and took your injured hand in his.

His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he held your hand carefully, as if afraid he might hurt you further.

"You need to be more careful," Aventurine scolded softly, his eyes fixed on your hand.

You had to suppress a shiver as you felt Aventurine's touch, his fingers gently caressing the sore skin of your hand.

Ratio returned with a small bag of supplies, a concerned expression still on his face.

"I'll tend to your hand now, okay?" 

Ratio gently took your hand from Aventurine's grasp, preparing the supplies he needed to treat your burn.

Aventurine watched diligently in silence, his eyes never leaving your injury.

Ratio was gently applying the ointment to your burn, his touch precise and practiced.

The stinging sensation lessened as the soothing medicine worked its magic.

Aventurine continued to watch, his eyes fixated on Ratio's hands tending to your injury.

Once Ratio was finished, he wrapped a sterile gauze around your hand to protect the burn.

"There," Ratio said, satisfied with his work. "You'll need to keep the bandage on to protect the burn. Let it heal properly."

You flexed your fingers, feeling a slight discomfort from the burn but relieved by Ratio's skillful treatment.

"Thank you," you murmured, a little embarrassed by all the attention. 

Your eyes looked at the ground, seeing the broken cup, along with the coffee lying on the floor. 

You let out a sigh, seeing the disaster. 

Ratio noticed your gaze and followed it to the broken cup and spilled coffee on the floor. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, putting the supplies back in the cabinet. "Accidents happen."

Aventurine, who was still standing nearby, glanced at the mess on the floor and then back at you.

"I'll clean it up," he said, crouching down to start gathering the shattered pieces of the cup.

"Oh no, Aven," you quickly let go, preventing him from bending over. 

"You two are going to breakfast, you have a lot to do today," you said, as you pointed to the table with food on top. 

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a glance, a hint of surprise in Ratio's eyes at your quick reaction.

Aventurine was about to protest, but Ratio placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively silencing him.

"They're right," Ratio said, gently pushing Aventurine towards the table. "We do have a lot to do, and it's already noon."

Aventurine let out a sigh.

"But, your burn..." he protested, his eyes moving from Ratio to you. 

"The bandage will do its job. Besides, it's nothing serious," Ratio assured, gently guiding Aventurine towards the table again. 

"We'll leave the cleaning to them. Now come on, let's eat. We're late as it is."

Ratio's insistence was enough for Aventurine to reluctantly agree. He let out a sigh and stopped resisting, finally taking a seat at the table.

Ratio sat down as well, gesturing for you to join them.

"Come here," Ratio urged gently, patting the seat next to him.

Your attention was led back to them. 

"Uhm?, oh, I've already eaten," you let go, as you continued your previous action. 

You bent down to the ground, carefully picking up the broken pieces of the cup, throwing them away. 

Ratio and Aventurine watched you silently, concern and confusion on their faces.

Ratio's brow furrowed as you dismissed the offer to sit with them.

"You did? How long have you been awake?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Aventurine's eyes flicked between you and Ratio, his expression mirroring Ratio's concern.

You didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so you simply shrugged. 

"I don't know, maybe a couple of hours?" you mumbled, continuing your task. 

Ratio's frown deepened. "You should have woken us up. You didn't need to get up so early."

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And it's not the first time either," he commented, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Ratio sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's not the first time, indeed," he agreed, shooting a disapproving look in your direction.

You paused for a moment, feeling the weight of their gazes on you. 

"I just wanted to make sure everything was ready for you two," you muttered, avoiding their eyes. 

Ratio's expression softened a little, but there was still a hint of frustration in his voice. 

"You don't need to do that. We can take care of ourselves," he said, although the tone was firm, he wasn't truly angry.

"You know we don't like it when you do this," Aventurine scolded gently, his voice firm but tinged with worry.

You knew they were worried about you, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for them. You wanted to make sure they had everything they needed, that they were comfortable and well taken care of.

"Mhm," you mumbled. 

"But it's my job as an assistant to both of you and as your partner," you added, grabbing some paper towels to clean the wet coffee floor. 

Ratio let out another sigh.

"Partner," he repeated, the word hanging in the air.

Aventurine's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That's a poor excuse," he said.

"We never asked you to do all that. We never expected you to be at our beck and call like that." 

You finished drying the floor, and you stood again. 

"In fact, that was involved in the contract i signed," you spoke calmly, while throwing away used paper towels. 

You remembered very well the contracts you signed when you were officially the assent of each one respectively. 'It is necessary that the worker be available in semi-complete time and at the disposal...' 

You read those contracts 10 times each, as it was something of utmost importance.

Ratio and Aventurine remained silent for a moment, processing your words.

Veritas seemed frustrated, though not towards you, but rather towards the situation.

"We're not talking about the job or the contracts," Ratio said, his voice firm.

Aventurine added. "We're talking about us. About this... relationship between us," he paused, gesturing to the three of you. 

You sighed, once you finished cleaning, approaching the table. 

"Come on, don't be bitter and eat," you said, as you sat in a chair in front of them. 

They each took a plate, serving themselves and starting breakfast. 

The atmosphere was tense for a few minutes, a heavy silence hanging in the air. 

Ratio was the first to break the silence, his voice softer now. 

"How is your hand?" he asked.

You raised your hand, flexing it slightly.

"It's fine," you assured him. "The intent you applied did its job." 

You're still ordering papers, along with documents on your laptop. 

"Well, I will explain to you the agenda of both today," You said, before you started explaining to them what things are had planned for today. 

Ratio and Aventurine listened attentively to your explanations, occasionally asking questions.

Although they still had a slight hint of frustration from the previous conversation, the tension had somewhat eased.

Ratio nodded as you finished explaining the agenda. "I think we can manage those tasks."

Aventurine, who had been quietly eating, spoke up, "I just need to deal with some more research, and I'll be ready."

You nodded, as you also drank some water, before speaking. 

"All right, then I'll go make some calls for today." 

You stood up from your seat, getting up from the table.

Ratio stood up suddenly too. "Wait." 

Aventurine also stood up, his eyes narrowing.

You paused, slightly surprised by their sudden movements.

Ratio walked over to you, gently taking your hand with the injured one, his touch surprisingly soft. He examined it to make sure the bandage was still in place.

Aventurine remained standing near the table, his gaze fixed on the two of you, his arms crossed over his chest.

Ratio's touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the sternness he had shown earlier.

He seemed satisfied that the bandage was still secure and then looked up at you.

"Be careful," he said, his voice softer than before.

Aventurine still watched from a distance, his eyes fixed on Ratio's hand holding yours.

You couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at Ratio's touch and the concern in his voice.

"I will," you assured him, although you knew they still worried about you.

Aventurine finally walked over to the two of you, standing beside Ratio. 

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to us?" asked him. 

You couldn't help but let out a slight giggle as you rolled your eyes. 

"Okay, okay," you said, as you approached Aven, to give him a gentle kiss on the lips and then do the same with Ratio. 

Ratio and Aventurine returned your kisses, Aventurine's kiss slow and gentle, while Ratio's was a bit more firm but soft.

When you pulled away, they both looked at you with a hint of disappointment.

Ratio spoke up first. "That's too short."

Aventurine nodded in agreement. "Yeah, not enough." 

You let out another laugh, while shaking your head. "Nuh huh, it was fine." 

Ratio's hand, which was still holding yours, squeezed gently as if reluctant to let go. But he reluctantly dropped it.

Aventurine, though he tried to maintain a composed expression, couldn't hide the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Good luck with your work," he said. 

You nodded, still feeling a bit flustered, but trying to maintain your composure.

"I'll see you later," you said, as you turned to leave.

Ratio and Aventurine watched you go, their eyes following you until you were out the door, entering your office, next to the master bedroom. 

As you walk into your office, you couldn't help but think about the conversation between the three of you.

You knew they cared about you, and they were concerned for you. But sometimes their overprotectiveness felt suffocating, especially when they questioned your commitment to them.

You could understand how they might feel, though, considering their jobs and the stress they were under.

You settled down at your desk, pulling out some documents and beginning to make the first of many calls you were going to have to do today.

The hours passed, and the calls you made consumed most of your day.

As mid-day approached, you felt your stomach growl, reminding you that you hadn't eaten lunch yet.

You kept looking at all the papers and documents on your desk. 

Since you were only in the apartment at the time, you decided that it would be easier to order fast food. 

When you finally got the order, you ate while looking at your phone, getting a little distracted. 

From there, you get a message, exactly from Aven. 

'Hi, beautiful. I'm with Ratio now, don't prepare anything for dinner, we'll bring food, it won't take long,' 

You smile unconsciously as you read the text, answer it and then leave the chat, to finish eating and then continue doing the paperwork. 

After replying to Aven's message, you finished your meal and turned your attention back to the remaining work.

The afternoon passed by quickly, and the sky outside the window of your office started to turn orange as the sun began to set.

You glanced at the clock, noting that it was getting late. Ratio and Aventurine should be returning soon.

Uhm.

By the time you looked at the clock on the wall again, you grimaced. 

It had been a little longer. 

And by the time you took another look at it, it had been four hours. It was almost midnight. 

Your frown frowned, you were worried now. 

Not to mention you were hungry. 

You glanced at your cell phone, seeing that there was no new message.

You tried to reassure yourself that they must have been busy with work, but as the hours went by, your worry grew. 

Eventually you couldn't stand still anymore, so you got up from your seat and went to the living room, to pace until they arrived.

Time seemed to drag on painfully slow. 

You kept pacing around the room, glancing at the clock on the wall every so often.

And just as you were about to check your phone for the millionth time, the sound of the apartment door opening reached your ears.

You rushed to the entrance, catching a glimpse of Ratio and Aventurine as they entered, looking somewhat...tipsy?

"Finally!" you said, unable to hide your relief. "Where have you been, I was getting worried."

Ratio and Aventurine looked at you, slightly startled by your sudden exclamation.

Aventurine let out a chuckle, his speech slightly slurred. "We were just out having a drink."

Ratio, slightly more composed than Aventurine, spoke up, his voice slightly strained due to the alcohol. "We lost track of time, sorry for worrying you."

You looked at the two of them, noting their disheveled appearance. It seemed like they had more than just a few drinks.

"I can see that," you said, a mix of relief and annoyance in your voice.

You moved closer, scrutinizing their faces. They were both clearly inebriated, their eyes bloodshot and movements a lil uncoordinated. 

without noticing that there were traces of hickeys on their necks. 

Ratio and Aventurine stumbled a bit as they tried to maintain their balance, their coordination affected by the alcohol.

Aventurine noticed you looking at their necks, and he quickly tried to cover the hickeys with his hand. But his reaction only drew your attention more to the marks.

Ratio, noticing this, shifted awkwardly on his feet, his gaze darting away from you.

Your eyes narrowed at the sight of the marks on their necks.

"What are those?" you demanded, your voice a bit colder now. 

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance, their alcohol-clouded minds struggling to come up with a coherent response.

Aventurine spoke, "We were... having a bit of fun."

Your eyes narrowed further. "Fun, huh?" You repeated, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

Ratio, ever the mediator, tried to diffuse the situation. "It's nothing to worry about, sweetheart," he tried to reassure you, but his slurred speech contradicted his words.

Aventurine, perhaps a bit tipsy and bolder, smirked, "Yeah, harmless fun, that's all." 

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. 

It was fine, of course they could do that. 

"Mhm," you let go, before walking away a bit, to deter your thoughts a bit. 

"Did you bring the food?" You asked, as you looked at them. 

As they had said by message, you did not prepare anything for dinner, since they said they would bring food. And, already at almost midnight, you died of hunger. 

They exchanged another quick glance, realizing their oversight.

"Food," Ratio muttered, trying to focus his alcohol-fuzzed mind. "Right, we were supposed to bring food."

Aventurine looked at you sheepishly. "We, uh, forgot."

Your annoyance deepened, your disappointment in them growing.

"You forgot," you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady.

Ratio scratched the back of his head. "Yeah... We got carried away, I guess."

Aventurine, seemingly trying to light in the mood, chimed in, "To be fair, we were pretty druunk." 

Okay, that didn't help at all. 

A small knot formed in your stomach. You were hungry, and the realization that you would have to find something to eat at this hour made you kinda feel bad.

  They seemed oblivious to your frustration, their alcohol-clouded minds still attempting to justify their actions.

Ratio tried to play it off, "It's not a big deal, we can order something."

Aventurine added, "Yeah, we can get your food delivered."

But their suggestions only irritated you more.

"It's late," you retorted, your voice becoming more strained. "Most places are closed."

However, Aventurine's words dislocated you a bit. "Your food?" You repeated, while you frown a little in confusion. 

At your questioning tone, Ratio immediately realized his slip-up, and his face paled slightly.

Aventurine didn't seem to notice the effect his words had on you, the alcohol dulling his perception.

"Yeah, YOUR food," he repeated, not realizing the implications of what he was saying.

Ratio, picking up on your reaction, shot Aventurine a glance. "Vasha, just stop," he muttered, trying to shut his partner up. But Aventurine was too caught up in his drunk state to notice Ratio's warning.

Aventurine's words echoed in your mind, adding fuel to the fire of your growing irritation.

Ratio's attempt to silence Aventurine fell on deaf ears, and the alcohol coursing through Aventurine's system loosened his tongue even more.

"What's the problem?" Aventurine asked, still oblivious to the impact of his words. "We can order something specifically for you, right?"

Ratio winced, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

Ratio, seeing the tension building, tried again to intervene. "Vasha, shut up," he hissed through gritted teeth.

But Aventurine, still unaware of the gravity of the situation, waved him off. "Oh, come on, I'm just sayi–"

You interrupted him before he could finish. "Specifically for me?" You repeated again. 

"Have you had dinner yet?" You dared to ask, feeling a strange sting in your throat and chest. 

Aventurine's inebriated mind took a moment to process your question. 

His eyes darted to Ratio, who was silently mouthing "no" to him. But Aventurine, still under the influence of alcohol, blurted out his next words.

"Well... yeah."

Ratio's face paled more, and he pinched the bridge of his nose again, groaning in frustration.

Your heart sank further. The realization that they had not only forgotten to bring you food, but had also eaten without you, was like a punch to the gut.

You felt a mixture of disappointment and hurt wash over you, and it took all your self-control to maintain your composure.

Ratio shot Aventurine a harsh glare, his anger at his partner's drunken carelessness obvious.

Aventurine finally seemed to realize the implications of his words and the impact on you. A hint of soberness flashed across his features. "Oh,"

 Ratio tried to offer an apology. "We're sorry, we didn't mean to make you wait and…"

But you interrupted him, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and disappointment. "It's fine," you said, although it was clear that it wasn't. 

You turned away from them, walking towards the kitchen. "I'll see what I can scrounge up for myself."

 Ratio and Aventurine watched you walk away, their alcohol-dulled minds finally comprehending the gravity of their actions.

"Nice going, genius," Ratio said through gritted teeth, glaring at Aventurine.

Aventurine's drunkenness seemed to wane, replaced by a hint of guilt. "I didn't mean to..."  

Ratio let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. "I know, Vasha, but you made it worse."

"I just... I wasn't thinking straight," he murmured.

Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose again, his patience wearing thin. "You never think straight when you're drunk."

Before Aventurine could respond, Ratio cut him off. "Just... go take a shower, sober up a bit."

Aventurine nodded sheepishly, knowing that he had messed up. "Yeah, you're right."

He wobbled a little but managed to steady himself before stumbling to the bathroom.

Ratio let out another sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He let out another weary sigh, still feeling the effects of the alcohol but regaining more soberness. He walked into the kitchen, where you were searching through the cupboards.

Ratio leaned against the doorway, watching you rummage through the cupboards.

The silence between you two was heavy, the tension from before still hanging in the air.

Ratio cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. "Hey," he began, his voice hesitant. 

You didn't turn around, continuing to search the cupboards for something to eat, your frustration evident in your tense movements.

Ratio could tell you were mad, and he didn't blame you.

Although at the time, the word 'mad' wasn't right for you. 

"Darling," he said softly, taking a few steps closer to you, "Can I..."

He reached out a hand, as if to touch your shoulder, but then hesitated, unsure if you would welcome his touch. 

"Go get the bed ready for Aven to lie down, you should do the same," you said, in a tense voice. 

At no time did you turn around, you kept turning your back on him while you pulled out a pan and oil. 

He withdrew his hand.

"I... okay," he mumbled.

He left the kitchen, heading towards the bedroom, still feeling the effects of the alcohol in his veins.

He turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the kitchen. Ratio went to check on Aventurine in the bathroom, hoping his partner would sober up a bit faster.

Meanwhile, you continued to prepare something to eat, your movements still tense and frustrated.

With one hand, you rubbed your eyes quickly, almost frustrated. 

Ratio leaned against the bathroom door frame, watching Aventurine dry his hair with a towel.

"How are you feeling?" Ratio asked.

Aventurine let out a small groan, his head still feeling heavy. "Like I should never drink again."

Ratio chuckled weakly. "That's what you always say, and yet here we are." 

Aventurine hung the towel on a rack and ran a hand over his damp hair, still looking a bit dazed.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub.

He buried his face in his hands, groaning. 

Ratio crossed his arms over his chest, watching his partner's struggle.

"Well, at least you're a little more sober now," Ratio noted.

Aventurine let out a tired sigh, lifting his face from his hands. "Yeah, I guess... But I still feel like crap."

Ratio nodded in understanding. "That's what happens when you drink too much," he said, but there was a hint of worry beneath his words.

"Come, let's go to the room," he added, as he extended a hand to him to get up. 

Aventurine grabbed Ratio's hand, allowing his partner to pull him up.

He stumbled a bit, still a bit unsteady on his feet, but managed to stay upright.

"Aeons, I need to sleep," Aventurine mumbled, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

  Ratio helped him into the room, his arm around his partner's waist to provide support.

"I can imagine," Ratio said, guiding Aventurine to the bed.

Aventurine sat down on the bed, groaning again as he leaned back against the pillows.

Ratio sat down next to him, a concerned expression on his face.

"You really need to take it easy next time," Ratio warned.

Aventurine closed his eyes, still massaging his temples. "Yeah, I know, I know..."

Ratio glanced at the closed bedroom door, his mind still on you and the situation in the kitchen. 

You forced yourself into the room, taking a deep breath. 

Ratio looked up as you entered the room, his expression still laced with tension.

He could tell by your face that you were probably feeling bad.

Aventurine opened his eyes, wincing as the light hit his sensitive eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said weakly, pushing himself up to sit more upright on the bed.

You looked at your hands again before walking to the bed where they were. 

"Take this," you said, extending a glass of water and two pills for each. 

At no time did you look into their eyes, at most you lifted their chests, but not at their faces. 

Ratio took the painkillers and cup of water from you, noting your distant demeanor.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft.

They both downed the pills, feeling the effects on their alcohol-muddled minds.

Aventurine watched you, feeling a pang of shame and guilt.

"Sweetheart... we're sorry-" he began, but you cut him off.

"It's okay, go to sleep," you said quietly, your voice betraying your shaky tone."i'm going to eat, rest well." 

Ratio's grip on the glass tightened a bit as he listened to your words.

He could sense the hurt and frustration beneath your calm facade.

"But...are you-" Aventurine started, but trailed off as you turned away, walking out of the room. 

You didn't like this at all. 

You were in the dining room, having dinner at 2am. 

Your eyes were a little itchy, but maybe you were being a little exaggerated. 

But you couldn't help but feel single in some way. That was when you weren't in a relationship with them. 

Ratio and Aventurine lay down in bed, both still feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Ratio stared up at the ceiling, his mind still preoccupied with his worries.

Aventurine shifted uncomfortably on the bed, the guilt and shame gnawing at him.

"Maybe we should try to talk to them...?" Ratio mumbled.

Aventurine let out a weary sigh, burying his face in the pillow.

"I don't think they want to talk to us at the moment," he muttered, his words muffled by the pillow.

Ratio grimaced, realizing that Aventurine was probably right.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." he said, his voice subdued. 

"I'm sure tomorrow they will forget everything," he said, caressing Ratio's cheek. 

  Ratio leaned into Aventurine's touch, finding comfort in his partner's presence. "I hope so..."

He was about to say something else, but a yawn cut him off.

"I'm exhausted," he mumbled, feeling the tiredness finally catching up with him.

Aventurine nodded, approaching him. 

"Yeah, me too..." he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy.

"I'll try to make it up to them tomorrow," he muttered.

Ratio hummed in agreement, feeling his own eyelids droop. 

Their words trailed off as they both surrendered to the pull of sleep, their alcohol-sated minds finally shutting down for the night.

Meanwhile, you finished eating your dinner, the food not helping to improve your mood.

You felt frustrated and a tad sad, despite trying to appear indifferent.

The next day, and in itself, the days that followed, you forced yourself a little to act normal, until everything was 'normal' for your mind.

All for the sake of your job and relationship.

Well, you could say that everything was fine and as before.

Except that by the 'as before', it had become somewhat distorted.

In a way, they stay attentive and worried, or so you said to yourself.

But like that in a way, you felt like they had become more bossy, so to speak.

But that's what they behaved for you.

You couldn't tell if it was how they behaved or you were just getting a little fed up with the most basic things, you have to plan and do.

I mean, you were both of them's assistant, but not the housekeeper. 

Despite your efforts to act normal, there was a growing sense of irritation and frustration within you.

The lines between assistant and housekeeper often blurred, and it felt like they expected you to take on more than what was expected of your role.

Still, you tried to be understandable, you knew that their work wasn't the easiest and funniest ever. 

You tried your best to push these feelings aside, but it was becoming harder and harder. 

Days turned into weeks, and the strain on your nerves continued.

The tasks they asked you for went beyond what was reasonable for an assistant.

Your own responsibilities seemed to take a backseat, replaced by their demands and needs.

You felt overlooked and unappreciated, like your efforts and contributions were taken for granted.

Each time you tried to bring up your concerns, they brushed them off, assuring you that they were just being "busy" with work.

Or as they used to say, "by chance" they always did something together that kept them busy. 

The sense of imbalance in the relationship continued to weigh on you, eroding your patience and confidence. 

It became harder to ignore the frustration that gnawed at the pit of your stomach.

You felt like you were walking on eggshells, always trying to please them and meet their expectations.

But no matter how much you tried, it never seemed like enough.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[buckys-little-belle]

Im scared to but my first Barbie, but I really want one! Sooooo bad. Can you maybe write Steve and Bucky meeting a she/her reader in the Barbie spot in a store and being nice to her? Maybe buying her a Barbie and some clothes? And they are just nice?

Barbie Aisle Buddies

Stucky x Shy!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Warnings - The reader is generally a worry wart so she has a bit of 'panic' and worry during this fic, it gets resolved by the end and fluff ensues after her worry.

Notes - I honestly pulled inspiration from a fic I had written a while ago about a shy reader in a toy aisle, so I hope it's okay that I made the ready shy. This is also pretty short! But also so cute!!! Also I know it can be scary going to a store and buying toys but I promise you it's okay! I have bought so many Barbies and Barbie toys like clothes, and I described a Barbie I own in this story! Don't let worry eat you up, go buy the Barbie! Trust me when I tell you it's worth the worry, having fun dolls that I get to play with and dress up is so fun and I don't regret getting them! You only live once bubba, don't let the worry get you down for too long! I hope you get a Barbie soon!!! <3

SFW - Keep all interactions with the post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n had been hyping herself up for a month now. Twenty dollars in her pocket, and a determined state of mind were all she had as she walked up and down the Barbie aisle of her local grocery store. It was a small selection of dolls, yet so overwhelming at the same time.

Some dolls had different jobs, chef, doctor, fashion designer. Others had fancy outfits or animal sidekicks. It was hard to pick just one doll, but seeing as she only had enough money for one doll, she knew she had to pick just one.

"Hello." A man's voice broke through her overthinking, a man stood just a few feet away, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, some worn out sneakers on his feet. He looked familiar, though Y/n couldn't place just where she had seen him before. "I'm Steve." He smiled, turning to look at the same shelf she had her eyes on previously. "It's hard to pick one, isn't it?"

"Um." Y/n panicked, trying to remember the excuse she had made up regarding why she was in this aisle. Did she land on 'getting a toy for a friend's kid' or 'I have a birthday party to attend'?

"Steve!" Another man's voice called out. This time a man dressed all in black, combat boots and gloves included, planted himself a few feet away. "Hi there, Doll." He smiled, Y/n couldn't help but smile back, the man's charm winning her over. "Which one do you have your eye on?" He asked as he scanned the shelves, hands crossed over his chest, looking at the plethora of choices like he too was thinking about getting one.

"Oh, I'm not, I'm just, you know, a, I don't, I." Y/n began stuttering, trying to get out an excuse, any excuse, to make them believe she wasn't buying a Barbie doll for herself.

"Dolls don't have an age, Doll." The man without a name chuckled. "If you're looking for a Barbie to play with I would suggest one that comes with a few items." He began pointing to a few sets she had looked at, but sets that were over her budget.

"I like this one." Y/n quickly grabbed a doll she had her eye on. She was a chef and came with a pan and what looked to be a fried egg. She had a chefs hat and coat, and looked fun enough, but the biggest pull was it was the only doll with accessories that was in her price range.

"She'll need some everyday clothes." Steve squatted down to a lower shelf, rummaging through some small containers for a set of clothes.

"I can't, I just. This is all I can get." Y/n smiled with a hint of self conciseness. Admitting you didn't have a lot of Barbie money to strangers wasn't the end all be all, but at the same time it still felt extremely venerable.

"Well, Doll." The unnamed man with a smile full of charm spoke again. "It's your lucky day then." He pulled the cart Steve must have brought closer to the shelf. "Pick whatever you want."

"What?" Y/n shook her head taking a step back, confused as to what he meant.

Steve was the one to speak up this time. "You don't know who we are, I'm guessing." His smile was softer, more gentle. "I was formally known as Captain America." The truth felt like a weight had been lifted off Y/n's shoulders, her happy to know that she wasn't crazy for thinking he looked familiar.

"And I'm his sidekick, Bucky Barnes, formally known as The Winter Soldier." Mr Unnamed added on.

"Oh." Y/n nodded her head, taking in the two men, even more confused as to why they were wasting their time in a local stores Barbie aisle with her. "Sorry for bothering you."

Y/n was ready to dash with her doll, worried that the super soldiers she just met would grow tired of her quiet demeanor. "Doll." Bucky called out, his voice commanding yet it still had a joking tone to it. "Come back here and pick at least four things."

"Buck." Steve whispered loudly.

"Steve." Bucky said back, his tone condescending. "Doll, please let us but you some dolls. It would make our day." She still hadn't turned around and had half a heart to run, yet for some reason she turned around and took a good look at the shelf.

There really were some sets she'd love to have, like the farmers market stand and a little dog set, and Steve was right, her doll needed everyday clothes. "You won't make fun of me?" She asked, worry surrounding each word.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Steve put his hand over his heart, an action that made her giggle.

"I'm Y/n." She finally gave them her name, a small smile breaking past her worried expression.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." Bucky and Steve said at the same time, the three of them laughing.

"Which outfit do you think your doll would look best in?" Steve held out a few options, letting Y/n ponder over them as Bucky tried to convince her to pick the Barbie camper as one of her choices, as if she had a spot for such a big play set.

"I like this one." She pointed to a package that help a blue dress, pick shirt, and jean skirt. The shoes were cute too, and she got excited at the idea of dressing her doll in the outfit.

So there they all stood, Steve and Bucky trying to convince Y/n to get super expensive things, and Y/n trying to figure out how she got so lucky to have two super soldiers worrying over her new doll collection.

[sigmathesillyenigma]

shaw pack w/ a partner who bites their nails/skin around their fingers! ( gender neutral ) unfortunately long . i have never been one to write short and concise summary paragraphs . also these are all based on personal headcanons and visuals for the characters keep in mind!!

( req by anon ;3 )

david :

at first when he notices you doing it, he chides you, prying your hand away from your mouth and entangling your fingers with his own, forcing you to stop as he mutters something about being an idiot. this happens the next few times he catches you; you get scolded, hands locked together and lovingly insulted about you and your poor choice of habit.

if he notices that it's a nervous behavior, he approaches the confrontation more sympathetically, opting to silently tug your hand away from your face in favor for putting it on his or your thigh, cupped beneath his warm palm before he presses a firm kiss to the temple.

when / if you express feelings to david about wanting to break the habit, he'll drive to the nearest drugstore during his break and buy those horrendous nail-biting prevention polishes (and if you sweet talk him enough, he'll even apply it onto your nails for you, which he's surprisingly good at. what a begruding gentleman).

asher :

asher does it too. the habit started in high school for no particular reason, and he hasn't been able to stop since. when he was younger, he used to be really insecure about his hands, his jagged nails, bony fingers and knuckles but since meeting you, he's grown to love aspects of himself that he'd never taken the time to appreciate in the past.

when he sees you biting your nails for the first time he doesn't seem too bothered by it, not caring for all that "nail biting is gross!" "people who bite their nails are disgusting!!" bullshit. sure, it wasn't hygenic, but you were in the comfort of your own home, in the company of your dear husband who frankly, couldn't care less.

if asher suspects that the habit is hurting you ( e.g you bite too deep into the nail everytime, you're damaging your nail permanently, etc ), he'll start to try and coax you out of it which can come in the form of smoothly slotting his hand into yours, pushing your hand out of the way with his cheek in favor for a kiss, or even just flicking the back of your hand in a silent gesture. otherwise, if you aren't causing yourself any harm, it doesn't really bother him and he probably wouldn't interfere.

milo :

milo keeps himself relatively well-groomed, so his nails are strangely perfect in shape and condition. while he wouldn't ever judge you for biting your nails, he would encourage you to take care of yourself (god forbid you get pinworms LMAOO), and to stop if it was ever hurting you.

the first time he caught you biting your nails he wasn't all that bothered about it. he knew you, he knew your anxiety, so this, to him, wasn't really a big surprise. milo didn't make it his business the first couple of times he saw you doing it; you're a grown adult, weither you want to bite your nails or not is your choice to make, but if it's the case where your biting starts to cause long-term damage to your nail itself, he'd start to intervene, much like asher.

he goes about this in a few ways; if the biting is only minor, he'll gently push your hand away from your mouth with the back of his, but doesn't say anything or even acknowledge that it's happening aside from moving your hand. however, if he catches you more deeply biting at your nail, he'll flick your hand and chide you with a soft "ah-ah. jesus, doesn't that hurt, sweetheart?" it's not said unkindly, more so like a parent would to a toddler, but still gets the message across.

-

i didn't inclue sam sue me

@skunkox @definetelynuwonhere @huxleaf

if you'd like to be added to the taglist lmk :3

[deafsignifcantother]

the baby

♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh, almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points, the entire cast are characters, hospital scene, I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did, reader is happy to be a mother

You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.

.

"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.

He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.

Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.

"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"

What an obnoxious question.

You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.

He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."

"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.

"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?

"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.

"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"

Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?

"Don't you have others to talk to?"

"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."

"Of course."

Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.

"I wanted to check in on the baby."

A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.

"Why?"

.

The day before, Lucifer arrived.

You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.

With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.

He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.

Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.

"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.

Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.

Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.

Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."

As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.

Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."

And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.

Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.

.

"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"

"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."

You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.

He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."

You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"

Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.

"No."

"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.

.

Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.

Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.

Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.

Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:

"You're not going to stay here for the battle."

"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.

"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."

"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."

Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"

"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?

She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."

She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.

Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.

You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."

Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."

A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.

The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.

The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.

What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?

But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.

Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.

Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.

While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.

Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.

[captainjoongki]

not to sound like an annoying karen, but i honestly, truly feel that netflix has fucked up the kdrama genre for good.

just 10-ish years ago, there were kdramas that the big 3 korean channels (SBS, MBC, KBS) would broadcast and then there were kdramas that the main cable channels (jTBC and tvN) would broadcast. and between those groupings, you got everything. you got 16-20 episodes of dramas that had heartfelt writing, filmed with bright colors, filmed with concise plots, that most of the time, ended WELL. you got a GOOD ending that was complete. the works felt authentically south korean. yes, there were cheesy tropes and moments that made you cringe, but it felt so real. and you had SO many kdramas airing during the week! you couldn't keep track of just how many!

cut to netflix coming in and making it big with kdramas with squid game and some romantic works and then suddenly they (and disney+) are making these short kdramas, less than 10 episodes, with generic filters, generic plots, and poorly written scripts that are just mere shadows of what kdramas used to be. they end shitty 90% of the time. and worst of all, they feel like american shows. and no, i don't mean sex scenes or action scenes because hey, i love change there, but i mean the entire VIBES are just off. they're not the kdramas i fell in love with, the ones that felt so human. and thanks to these big, foreign companies coming in, the main broadcast channels have basically shut down 1/2 their timeslots, and so many dramas aren't even getting aired these days.

yes times change progress is great robots will probably replace us all in a few years blah blah, but it's really depressing to me personally since i have such fond memories of the utter joy of kdramas, especially from the golden era of 2008-2017. and while there are some that escape the netflix!americanized! curse, it's unfortunately the majority that remain nothing but commercial puppets, rather than authentic entertainment.

[sgiandubh]

Contemplating Bullshit

Quick, Fandom Police, screencap this and send it to CO. ASAP:

'Dear' CO (or should I say, eh... 'Glinda'? 🙄),

You wrote what amounts to a PhD thesis about one of my recent posts (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753845334988423168/they-watch-they-hate-then-they-copy?source=share). So long for your carefully curated 'I don't care about Those Tinhat Shippers' narrative, in the process: but hey, common sense never bothered you and your ilk, right?

You don't care, but you write. Abundantly. Prompted by a denunciation that should give your 'US progressive beliefs' pause. Between you and me, lady: our European shipper community cannot give a dead rat's ass about you systematically dragging the US politics current evolution in this TV series fandom, in an effort to-

a) brown nose the US more conservative, MAGA crowd (with which 'Erself seems to be resonating, but that is suddenly and conveniently of no social and political import to you, of course)

b) sound sophisticated towards what you think (wrongly) is a primitive, uneducated, politically unaware shipper fandom crowd.

Some of the shippers chose to go political, for their own reasons and if they are happy with it, so am I. I do happen to believe in freedom of speech and editorial choices. Many, such as myself, chose to never mix politics and mundane, private beliefs (such as all this fandom thing), just because we happen to think, in Europe, that mixing those two notions is extreme poor taste. With dramatic historical precedents to boot. So you see, I am not very sure what point are you trying to prove, spare that you somehow consider yourself superior to those who do not share your political views. Told you: so long for your progressiveness and I am sorry, but your are such a Cheap Demagogue, lady!

Then, you couldn't help yourself but tell a Big, Fat Glinda Lie:

I did not invent the Orc concept. Your running mate, BIF (the Poor Man's CO, btw) did - and proud of herself, too:

Discerning Orcs vs. Stupid Shippers, Circle of Trust vs. Rectangle of Reality. We know that song, that is so 2019. And sure, I did mention an Orc Army (five to ten blogs, the rest are parrots, unable to make the difference between 'pixilated' and 'pixelated', when talking about a blurry picture - pixie/pixel, btw). My understanding is that someone as genuinely intelligent (that, I grant you) as yourself was piqued by the irony. But you chose to be nasty. Fair enough. Your problem, not mine.

Have you moved on? It doesn't sound like you did. And yeah, you sound angry and bothered and barely keeping up a civilized demeanor, there.

I could go on and on and on, debunking everything you said, but I am merciful to my readers and I happen to think that sometimes being clear and concise is far more effective than being verbose. So, here is the deal, CO:

Take your condescending, US-centric world view and your intolerant nastiness and shove them right up your Glinda nose, ok?

As for me, I am firmly on the ship deck. You are not to tell me what I saw with my own eyes. Better stick to whatever you post on your political blog. You have a LOT of work to do there. Seriously.

PS: in the book, Glinda is the Good Witch from the South. Just pedantically sayin'.

[gatitties]

Heyy first of all I love ur Tokyo revenger fics! I was wondering if u write Bonten Sanzu x fem! Reader with mommy issues? She fights s lot with her mom and Sanzu finding out and comforting her? Tyy

─Bonten!Sanzu x fem!reader

─Summary: You decide to end your silence, seeking help from the person who has spent years in your life, this whole arguing situation was making you desperate.

─Warnings: none

─ You don't know at what point in your life the arguments with your mother began, but they persisted until your adulthood.

─ Your father figure was simply either not present, or did not have his own voice to take one side or the other, so it was always a tug of war between you and your mother.

─ Although everything was at times, you could go months without arguing with her, and one random day argue and not talk for a couple of months until one of you two gave in.

─ You felt so bad about this whole situation, that sometimes you turned to other people to escape from home in your adolescence.

─ You met Sanzu when he was still in Toman and, oblivious to the entire criminal underworld, you became entangled with him when Bonten was formed.

─ Even if you didn't like what he did, it would destroy you emotionally not to have anyone to help you even if you no longer needed to run away from your parents' house.

─ Of course, you decided not to tell anything about your problems at home, despite having been together for years, you thought it was too personal to tell Sanzu, just as he only told you what he wanted about his band.

─ There came a point where you couldn't stand it anymore, some of your mother's comments towards you were painful, even when you no longer lived with them, the visits became a punishment.

─ Your relationship with Sanzu became closer and you began to depend a little emotionally on him, romanticizing small aspects of your life together, which led you to live with him.

─ And, therefore, you ended up exploding one day, being a sobbing mess while recounting how bad your mother sometimes made you feel, the hurtful comments, and the absurd arguments.

─ Sanzu canceled the plan to go out to one of the Haitani brothels and stayed all night listening to you get rid of a sentimental weight.

─ He's not the best at comforting people, he definitely wasn't good with words, especially now that his life consisted of threatening and not reassuring, but he made the effort just for you.

─ It was brief and concise, it didn't make all your worries disappear instantly, but it served for now, you clung to him like a lifeboat since what you knew as family was little by little removed from your life for your own good.

─ Sanzu suggested you make a 'personal visit' with some of his friends because of all the problems they had caused you, but now that he also decided to open up about his work, you decided that you would simply change your lifestyle.

[lifeiskentastic]

plsplspls write more sebastian fluff <33 i love ur writing sm

sorry for taking so long(

gn!Reader leads a drunken Seb out of his bar

Gif by @dilfgifs

A/N: Thank you all for your replies, you are so sweet 😭😭 I would reply to every single one of them but I started this blog as a side blog just to post one fic and I never thought it would go this far… anyway, thank you sm!

Summary: A friend (but not for long) Reader helps Seb after he gets drunk in his own bar;

Word count: small but concise 360 words;

Thanks for y'all again!

"How did you manage to get drunk in your own bar?"

Seb's head jerked around on your shoulder, nearly knocking you both to the ground. Still, it was a bit impractical to carry a drunken, grown man on the neck.

"I'm not drunk at all..."

The light laughter that followed these words indicated the opposite.

"Tell me that tomorrow morning."

After all, now that your friend had decided to drink himself into oblivion in his own bar, you would have to take care of him until the sun came up, until the first sober thought entered his head.

You would have been walking quietly through the empty, deserted park with Sebastian hanging on your shoulders, if not for the suspiciously strange silence from someone who had just spilled an entire bottle of whiskey into himself.

"Are you okay?"

You stopped and cautiously looked over your shoulder, meeting Seb's floating, mindless eyes.

"You look beautiful."

You blushed instantly, but kept your eyes on Sebastian. It's not that he's never complimented you before, it's just that right now he seemed so sincerely uninhibited and honest that your heart had to flutter.

"You too."

Seb's satisfied smile tripled in size. He relaxed his head on your shoulder, watching you from under his half-open eyelids.

There was something special about walking through the starry park at night, with the pungent smell of alcohol around Sebastian and his loving gaze fixed only on you.

You wonder how much of this will remain in Seb's memory after he sobered up? Well, judging by his sly look, he clearly knew how to keep that beautiful moment in his head.

"You're not that drunk, are you?"

"Oh." Sebastian's hands, which you had been holding to prevent him from accidentally losing his balance while faking drunkenness, closed on your cheekbones. "How did you manage to expose me?"

"You're a terrible actor." Although, in fact, you were glad that Seb's words and actions were done in good faith and with full understanding. "I can't believe you made me drag you."

"Ha-ha, I'm sorry, I was just enjoying it too much."

You couldn't help but agree.

P.S. Oh, what a plot twist!

[astralnymphh]

born of flora and fauna | teaser I. ellie williams

knight!ellie x princess!reader

an; thought I would bestow a little excerpt from my prologue for this fic, cause the preluding alone needs its own teaser. plus, a little moodboard for it! this would count for the prologue only, as it's set in the wintertime and then progresses into spring. just a note this series is a bit more fantasy leaning than pinpoint history accurate (mainly in clothing department) but I'll still be including some realism into it. expect some.. complicated n poetic writing.

༻⋆the excerpt;

a vividness to her movements, flowing like a river. for it is water that soothes the most cosmic fires, carves veins into the earth's soil, descends from the heavens above and proves iron soluble. a knight so pinpoint and poised like a painter, yet so daring and baneful like a warrior of evenfall. an artisan of her craft, ellie was. born to thrive in matters regarding protection of her kingdom and its nobility.

you were a daughter of the illustrious king and queen, sister of your highly revered and cherished kin, prudence. subsequent to her fabled rise, was your fall. down-spiraling in neglect and a corroding shame that you couldn't fulfill the duties of a courteous princess. wickedness wasn't necessarily your play of folly. rebuking the role of royalty isn't your entire bastion of vengeance. you purely long for a world of your own color. your self-brewn arcadia of art. in a concise phrase, desire for sovereignty.

' why don't you resemble your sister more? '

upon this midwinter day, steel clashes and clanks with the marching of castle guards en route to their designated patrol sites just beyond the barrier of the throne room. braziers birthing a cordial flame glowing with a saffron ember, balls of warmth to resign a frigid numbing along the stone pillars surrounding the epicenter. the rabble of townsfolk forked into two large columns in the palatial hall afore the platform of the royal family, gossiping amongst themselves at the event taking place.

you are aligned in royal seating adjacent to your mother and fathers throne, crossed legs pleating your tunics' billowing skirt, seemingly stoic poise contrasting your usual gestures of criticism and resentment. a flurry of knights in waiting present themselves individually before the nobility, emanations of each one's virtues and brawns scrutinized in one sweeping glance of the majesty himself, to which the mass of them were not up to par.

on comes a figure, shrouded by a leather fitting of attire compared to the other bodies of steel and chain before them, a smooth cloak of basil green silk embroidered with their respective house symbol in yellow; a moth, and a face hidden by the iron nature of a helmet. as every knight has shown oneself to the king, so do they, forcepping the helm with a gauntleted grip to reveal a face blemished by the trudging of time and battle, freckles mimicking the color of almonds, lips like a coral rose bud and hair painted of the most earthly russet you've ever bore sights to. except, there was one asset that sucked you right into her indirect gaze, circlets of green, like a willow tree's canopy of shrubbery, green, like the vernal springscape of the earlier year, an ethereal green, a hue no soul has ever seen before.

༻⋆the moodboard;

hope yall are excited as I am!!! 💗 this is the first draft of a portion of my prologue so you may see some additions or changes.

[tinum]

Hands of Nihility - Blade x Reader

Summary: Blade is in a coma for so long everyone around him dies. Warnings: OOC!! not proofread Word Count: 991 Notes: I'm so critical of my own work I struggle to write. Sorry for any mistakes. The ending feels rushed tbhh Also would this be classified as angst? Is it sad enough???

Nothingness is all that surrounds him—a blank canvas with no defining traits for him to focus on. There was no sense of time in the darkness, nothing to separate night and day. He had kept count when he first arrived. His thoughts kept track of each minute that comprised the hours, hoping his stay would be brief, but he soon gave up. Counting seemed useless if he believed he would be tapped here forever.

He wasn't even sure he could move. He went through the motions of movement, one foot in front of the other, but nothing around him changed. There was only emptiness to move past, nothing tangible. He couldn't even feel anymore. He looked down to where his hands should be clenching, but he saw nothing. He felt nothing. He was nothing.

He recalls the moments that led him here. You were fighting beside him against a deity, doing as Elio told you to do. He knew you were strong, so he had no issue when you asked to accompany him. He was promised the assignment would be simple: an unknown god whose sole strength was the stellaron it housed. But, as soon as the god released a blinding light and you were tossed to the side like a ragdoll, He realized that you were still human; there were so many ways you could shatter and break. He should have never agreed in the first place. How selfish.

His teeth gritted as he raised his sword towards the being. The battle was hard fought, the entity was fast. Blow after blow tore through his skin. His own immortality couldn't even heal the wounds fast enough. Though he persisted, the god eventually grew tired, exerting all their power on a being that could not be killed. He had won; the universe may have favored them, but he was immortal. However, when the god fell, so did he.

Perhaps this was the demise he had yearned for. After years and years of constant agony, has he finally reached his goal? No, this couldn't be death; this felt more like a prison. He was forced to feel nothing, see nothing, yet he still existed.

Blade often fantasized about death, specifically his own. He believed that when a person passes, their body would be enveloped in a warm blanket, a safe and comforting feeling. Maybe the sensation of familial love would surround them, and the smell of their mother's cookies would waft up their noses. The ending of his life was supposed to be peaceful; his conciseness would fade, and he would cease to exist altogether. This was not peaceful; it was empty and… cold.

A shiver runs down his spine. Something so foreign to him, he can't help but cherish the feeling. Tingles rush at him full force, millions of needles hitting him all the way from his toes and traveling to the top of his body. His head snaps down, hoping to see the familiar view of scarred hands. Yet when he looks, his eyes see nothing. He slowly lifts his head, a pinprick of light far into the distance.

He tries to move, one two, yet the light hasn't gotten any closer. He stares as the light flickers in and out, fluctuating like a star. He hopes to reach out and capture it, but hands of nihility cannot grasp.

Suddenly, the light pounces at him. His vision erupts with blinding color, and his ears burst to life with a deafening ring. Just the noise makes him want to groan out, but his throat feels as if he swallowed sandpaper. He knows he should be elated by the sudden use of his ears, but in truth, it only annoyed him. Instead, he inhales harshly; his lungs expand with the cool, crisp air as a sterile scent invades his senses.

His muscles reawaken, and his fingers twitch as his ability to control his body returns. He slowly cracks his eyes, and blurry figures morph into full ones as his eyes open. It was mostly dark, with only a small crack in the shades providing some illumination. Dust floated through the light, calming and peaceful. He feels serene; he feels alive.

His body feels like it was filled with sand, a heavy weight keeping him from moving. As his strength slowly rebuilds, he takes the time to look around. A sense of familiarity fills him as his eyes flicker around. On the walls hang medical posters diagnosing issues and addressing questions. He remembers the posters; he had read them countless times, over and over, whenever he visited. His gaze shifts below the posters; chairs are lined against the wall, and a space sits between the two.

His eyebrows knit together as he looked at the gap. The space was unusual. Whenever he stopped by, it had never existed. A third chair usually occupied that space. His eyes dropped down as he began to think.

As his eyes lower, something on his lap catches his eye—a silver sparkle shining from the only ray of light illuminating it. A beautiful ring rests around a skeletal finger, one he had seen millions of times. The ring was the very same as the one he had gifted you the day you exchanged vows.

He gently lifts your hand. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, my love." As he brings your fingers to his lips, he wishes he hadn't woke up. He wishes he remained in his coma, believing he was dead. That way, he wouldn't know that this was his reality. He would live in blissful ignorance, unaware of your passing.

The sight of you sitting there for so long, your body wilted with time, filled his throat with acid. You waited for him, for a day your lifetime would never account for. And still, you wait—patiently, for a moment that will never come. Waiting for the day when your lover takes his final breath.

[booksbluegurl]

Productivity Worklog Pt. 1

I took today's classes and followed the routine pretty well, except that I couldn't practice dance or have a workout, I was out with a friend and took longer than expected. I was inspired by this post to have an honest studyblr. Though I really like my pinterest decorated posts, I'm gonna continue them whenever I get a chance, but i'll definitely try to share my honest worklog, also because I like to flex. 😂

In English literature, to remember the dates, I created a whole list of years and added the names and works of the authors I've read till now in short form. And because I didn't have space, I clarified who and what it was on the sticky note. Hopefully, this will work well in long term.

I also watched a few recorded lectures our teacher sent on Dystopian literature. The Last Man had an influence on me that I ended up writing a poem on it.

For Inorganic Chemistry, I revised the first lecture notes of Salt Analysis and I formed this short sticky note on the General Rules of Solubility, I'm very confused in this so i'll have to revise it again and again but it's good to have something in a concise manner.

This is basically just the mess of my books.

So, here's an introduction to my study tables, since I don't have ang space to set up my table and chair to sit on, I take my bed table and use it for studying. And my study table is experiencing the wrath of my laziness, unfortunately.

[redisaid]

Beneath the Blue Moon - Chapter 10

Blue

Whew, it's been a while huh? I've sat on a draft of this chapter for months that I wasn't happy with because it did not match with my original plan to make it more confrontational. But I just couldn't get it there because the girls were too tired and sad to fight. What a mood.

Anywho, I'm gonna roll with this as is, though it's changing the tone of the story to be a tad bit more pensive. Expect a new poll soon for chapters 11 and 12.

5073 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Change for better or for worse Move much deeper to immerse Drape your spirit in the words Some kind of ghoul Small exception to the rule

It was hard to express what she felt in words. Sylvanas was always a woman of action. Her state of being was one of action. She preferred to show her love rather than tell of it. She enjoyed fussing over finding and then giving the perfect gift. She found herself addicted to the light that would kindle in Jaina’s eyes when she showed her something new or interesting—not to mention the hitch of her breath, the keening whine that would slip past her teeth as Sylvanas showed her new pleasures in bed.

Sylvanas was simply not meant for writing flowery letters, sealed with pressed flowers and perfume, in lieu of all that. If Jaina expected as much for her, she would be sorely disappointed. Her writing skills were better utilized in direct and concise military reports. Those she could easily churn out.

Yet a letter to her soulmate was a struggle.

Clea sat swinging her legs upon the great gilded mahogany desk of the Ranger General, offering little in the way of helpful advice. “You’re quite lucky she’s stuck with you, you know.”

“Your confidence in me is truly inspiring,” Sylvanas drawled back at her.

Even her famous wit and verbal stings were a thing that needed playing off of. If Jaina were here, she could easily have her laughing her pretty little laugh within minutes, and watch as her eyes widened and an intrigued smirk formed on her lips at the continuous, rapid pace of their banter. But Jaina was not here. Her soulmate was off playing nice with the arrogant fop that was Prince Arthas Menethil, somewhere in the great pine forests of Lordaeron.

And Sylvanas was stuck here in her offices in Silvermoon, trying to write a love letter in between mountains of other paperwork. But, when all was said and done, she was quite terrible at saying how she felt. She would much rather show it.

In fact, if Jaina were here, Clea would be politely asked to leave the room so she could show it in the way she truly wanted.

Instead of pouring forth her very soul through her quill, Sylvanas was left to look toward the wrist of the arm that held it instead—to the soft glow of the soulmark that Jaina had lit for her. In her mind, Jaina was there too, a quiet presence of focused intensity. She was thinking about something. She was often thinking like this. Imagining what puzzled her today always brought a smile to Sylvanas’ face, sometimes when one wasn’t necessarily warranted from a woman who had earned a reputation as a stern but fair General.

It was then that Velonara walked in with a stack of even more reports for her, and Sylvanas knew that with her, all hope of getting her thoughts out onto paper today had left the room.

“Good afternoon Ranger General, Ranger Clea,” Velonara said with a mocking air of formality that disappeared as she slapped the stack of paper onto what little surface area of the desk remained uninhabited by other work or Clea’s backside. “Pray tell, what requires so much of your rapt attention on this fine afternoon?”

“I caught her writing to her pretty mage and decided to help,” Clea announced before Sylvanas could even try to think of an excuse. “It’s not going well.”

“Tell her she has nice tits,” was Velonara’s sage advice.

“That’s the first thing I said,” Clea informed her.

It had, indeed, been the first piece of advice Clea had given. And while true, it did not help.

---

What seemed like entire lifetimes later, Sylvanas stood upon the cliffs above the twisting wreckage of stone and mana that was once Theramore, once again lacking for words.

The space between her and Jaina might as well have been filled with such cursed rubble itself. It felt just as tainted and impenetrable. A canyon miles wide—a distance too far and too treacherous to be crossed, or to even consider crossing.

But Sylvanas was here. She was here and she was whole again but dead. She was here to offer the crumbling remains of what she once was back to a woman who had become so much more than she could have ever imagined in these intervening years. Jaina was an Archmage. She was a leader of nations three times over. She had conquered and defended. She had both lost and won so much and lived to tell the tale.

All the while, Sylvanas had been dead. Walking, talking, but dead. How could she explain it all, when back in those happier times, without war and apocalypse threatening at every turn, she couldn’t even express her budding love for her pretty Kirin Tor apprentice?

Now, to the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, she stood like a stone, unable to speak, unable even to begin to go through the list of things she’d thought to speak on, the apologies she prepared, the explanations that had been so clear to her when she’d muttered them as she paced through the Warchief’s chambers in Orgrimmar, hours before.

“I’m—”

“If you’re about to say you’re sorry again, save it,” Jaina stopped her before the second word could even enter into existence.

Only she was very sorry. It was hard to be anything but sorry. Surely, Jaina could feel it thrumming along their bond. If Sylvanas’ heart still beat, she would likely feel that too—the panic, the deep, twisting guilt.

Even Theramore was something she could blame herself for, though it was Garrosh who used the bomb. Still, she had not stopped him. She had not risked it all to defy him. And though strategically, it would have been utterly foolish to attempt it, standing here, watching the arcane scar upon the land that was once a bustling settlement twist and rot all the more, Sylvanas felt as though she should have tried.

Had Jaina thought of that, when she chose this venue for their meeting? Had she wanted to rend more grief from her, more guilt?

It was hard for Sylvanas to say. The woman who she had once loved was just as much a thing of the past as the cocky Ranger General of Silvermoon. Jaina was just as changed by her losses, just as scarred, and just as hard to read for all of it. The setting sun and the swirling arcane mixed their glows in the white of her hair—violet and orange. She looked aflame for it, and her eyes burned too, demanding.

So Sylvanas had to think of something to answer them. Some words, though none would ever be good enough. She started with a question, “You wanted to know why I wished to meet?”

It took a moment for Jaina to offer a simple nod in return, as though she considered leaving just then, finding all this unsatisfactory. But, her feelings as they traveled over their bond spoke a different story. Sylvanas focused on these instead, taking every ounce, every fiber of the intrigue, the hesitancy, the worry, and that little shred that might be wanting.

That, she could certainly understand. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to Jaina. To hold her to her chest. To breathe in the fire of sun and magic that played on the soft white of her hair. Even her gold had been stolen from her.

“I need you, Jaina,” Sylvanas explained. “I need your support. I need you to understand that I am truthful in what I say about the Jailer, the realms of death, and that I have everything to lose for it if I’m wrong. We all do.”

She watched Jaina stiffen at this. The words took their time in washing over her, and Jaina let them echo beyond her into the wreckage, and into the sea beyond before she deigned to respond. “Surely you did not retrieve your very soul from hell then, so you say, to ask for an alliance?”

“No,” the word echoes hollow. Putting that into words does it no justice. Yes, Sylvanas sliced her soul free from the very fingers of the being who kept it prisoner. She did it for so many reasons. She did it for her freedom. She did it because she was missing a part of herself. She did it, too, for love.

But Jaina did not look at her with love. Her eyes were hard, crystalline. They too sparkled with flecks of dying sun and untamed magic.

“I did it for myself,” Sylvanas answered honestly. “And for Azeroth. The things the Jailer asked of me seemed cunning and clever in the beginning. He had a plan. He offered me what I wanted, what I needed, and did not ask for much. It all seemed so clear in the beginning. Death is a cruel and broken thing, and he would free us from it.”

That too, was difficult to explain. What could she tell Jaina of that first death of hers? Of leaping from Icecrown hoping for release—hoping for an end to the mockery of life that still preserved her, only to find terrifying nothingness, then Zovaal, looming. He showed her the unfairness of it—the loss of self, the lack of rest.

Worst of all was when she asked, pleaded, begged him to see her family again—mother, father, Lirath—to know that they were resting safely somewhere would bring her the most peace she’d known since she was alive with Jaina in her arms, listening to her bare her burdens, her loneliness since their loss. But there were no such people left for her to meet. No, Zovaal had told her, what remained of the souls that were once half of her immediate family would not know her anymore. They would not judge her for all she’d done. They would not welcome her to run with them in the great hunt, as elven mythos would often picture the afterlife. No, they were perhaps an angel with blue skin, a trickster faun, a plotting vampiric courtier, a proud gladiator, a thousand other things, or even just loose, aimless anima. The person they had once been was gone. They would not know or remember her, for better or for worse, ever again.

Anything, it had seemed, was better than enduring the cruelty of that fact, and to bear the idea that it was the same for every soul that had ever been willed into existence. To be tied so deeply to others in life—only to lose them forever in the eternity of death? It was beyond cruel. And worst of all, that part was entirely true and real, and not just one of Zovaal’s lies.

It had been easy to dwell on that. Even missing half of her soul, it had been hard to follow the agenda to put an end to it when it dragged on and on, seeming just as cruel.

It had been impossible for her to follow it any longer as it directed her to hurt Jaina.

“No doubt you heard what I explained yesterday aboard our ships. No peace awaits us in death. He had promised me a way out. His domination magic made it seem so convincing, so clear. But I began to have my doubts that it was possible, that such a solution was even what he was driving me toward. Those doubts were solidified when he asked me to raise your brother, willing or not, and turn him against you,” Sylvanas explained.

Those words, it seemed, hit home. Jaina’s eyes widened at the truth Sylvanas had otherwise not revealed.

Yes, she was her tipping point, and yes, she should know that.

“You defied this master of yours then, for Derek?” Jaina asked.

“For you,” Sylvanas told her.

The sun clung to one last sliver of the horizon, lighting the western sky to brilliance in orange and gold. Belore would abandon them soon, but perhaps it was for the best. No doubt Jaina would struggle to look upon her as she did now. Devotion and apologies alike meant little if they came from such a wretched creature as she. Her beautiful apprentice turned Archmage deserved better than a mournful corpse.

“If you’ve known all this for so long, why not come to me earlier? That’s what I don’t understand, Sylvanas,” Jaina said, seeming confused at the end by the name that fell so readily from her lips.

The words met her along with a softening in the back of her mind. It was not what Sylvanas expected, not what she rehearsed for. She prepared for Jaina to be stony-faced, civil, but enraged. She prepared for eyes that would not meet hers, not these that stared, and danced with flame and fire and want and this bone-deep desire for an understanding.

Sylvanas held up her hands, bare for the occasion, glowing soulmark on display on her wrist. “Would you have believed me? Would you have even as I explained all these things yesterday, if not for the attack that came after? You wouldn’t have, and I have given you little reason to. I doubt it would have been any different had I sailed here straight from Lordaeron, Grand Marshall Garithos’ blood still wet on my hands.”

“You don’t know that,” Jaina told her. “I grieved for you. For so long, I mourned you. You didn’t even tell me you were—” she trailed off, lacking the correct words to finish that sentence.

“Still alive? Because I wasn’t. I’m a monster. An abomination. An affront to the gods themselves. I still am, even with my soul intact,” Sylvanas reminded her. “Back then, the Alliance saw my people as nothing more than mindless zombies, temporarily bending their feeble wills away from the Lich King’s control, soon to be consumed by it once again and be made to betray them yet another time. You mean to tell me you would have thought any differently?”

“How can I answer that if you didn’t let me try?” Jaina immediately snapped back, her frustration boiling through, both in the movement of her hands and like a pot of boiling oil in the base of Sylvanas’ skull. “If you had come to me, if you had—”

“If I counted back the hours to you I have wasted, dwelling on the past, one by one, we would be here all night and another day,” Sylvanas told her. “I don’t know how you would have reacted. When, where, or why. It doesn’t matter. Could have and would have do not help us now. They do not help the people of Azeroth.”

“They did not help the people of Teldrassil either.”

Ah, there it was. Sylvanas had speculated she would have to answer for her greatest of crimes here. Really, letting the Jailer in had been the greatest, but if it were not through her, then surely it would have been some other pawn that would have taken his power to Azeroth. She just had her anger, her reasons, her vulnerability in having only half a soul to judge by.

“It was not supposed to end that way,” Sylvanas told her frankly, voice low, finding for the first time she could not look into Jaina’s eyes as the dying sun behind her was too close to the memory of the roaring flames. “And while I know it sounds no worse to say this, only one key person was meant to die that day. I left the job to Saurfang, but his odd new sense of honor let Malfurion escape. The strategy to burn the tree was the extreme alternative I was driven to, though no doubt it is what the Jailer wanted all along. That is often how it worked. I would plan something sensible, direct and discreet, it would fail, and then I would be driven to the mad answer, every time.”

The silence stretched on long enough for Sylvanas to have to look up to gauge Jaina’s reaction. She wondered if SI:7 had heard of her original plans for the invasion of Darkshore. But what did it matter? They were doomed. All of these failures, time after time, all this falling back and having to rely on desperate measures—it had all been him. The taunting hand that had held a piece of her soul had pointed her in the wrong direction only to watch her damn ever more souls to his hell in her attempts to make it right again.

The fact that Jaina seemed to be thinking on it still, her mind grinding the words down to powder, as the sun flashed one last brilliant ray behind her, sinking below the horizon, was not lost on Sylvanas. It meant that she did not know. It meant that she was trying to understand.

“Tyrande would have killed you for it all the same,” was what she finally said.

“Perhaps I may yet welcome the mercy of her blade,” was all Sylvanas could say in reply.

There was another silence, but this one ended with a bitter, short laugh against the coming dark of night. “I don’t wish to feel what it’s like to die with you again, so let’s avoid that,” Jaina offered.

There. That was something. Just as the tension dropped on the edge of her spine. In the night, Sylvanas’ wrist glowed like a guiding star. There had to be something left of this, something worth saving. Even if all she had to offer Jaina was to share her life with a dead, bitter war criminal, who had been manipulated into some of what she’d done, and had gladly chosen other transgressions without so much as an ounce of that evil influence.

“I cannot say that Zovaal is to blame for everything I’ve done. I cannot draw an exact line for you of where he ends and I began. That, I think, is the worst part of it. The terrifying part. It all made sense in some way, because that was what he wanted. I wasn’t able to see it so clearly until the day I clutched my soul in my hands. His chains did not hold me then,” Sylvanas went on.

Feeling welled up in her along with the word. Bright and bold, crisp as the cold air of winter, burning as the summer sun. The extremes of emotion save that of anger had been a foreign thing, and still were to her. She felt too raw, too new, her skin newly shed.

“If I were thinking as clearly then, or any time, as I am now, I think I would have come to you,” Sylvanas told her.

She wanted to cry. Not in the screaming, raging way she’d cried for her death and the constant struggle that followed. No, she wanted to cry because this was all just awful. She wanted to cry because it was all like a bandage ripped from a scabbing wound that would not and could not heal. The world itself was even scarred—she had seen the tip of the great hilt of the sword stuck in its side even on her flight over here.

Jaina didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve planet-sized swords and magic-sundered cities. Only the purple of Theramore’s arcane painted her now, and she was beautiful in it. A stunning woman if ever there was one, powerful and stern in the way she stood and thought about those words.

She deserved a lonely Ranger General, whose life she had brought light back into just by existing. She deserved warm, languid mornings in a bed draped with the finest Quel’thalan silk. She deserved to laugh and smile easily, without worrying if she could or should for the state of things. She deserved the smile that even Sylvanas could feel a thousand miles away when she read her terrible attempts at love letters. She deserved the life they were supposed to have together.

But Sylvanas supposed it was not for her to say what Jaina deserved. White-haired and once-dead herself, her heart still beat, but she knew what it was to fail, what it was to have it all come crumbling down, and to be the one picking up the pieces yet again.

All Sylvanas wanted was a chance to be a brick in that new foundation they might both build together. Anything else, well, she would just have to see.

“I don’t know how I could have helped, but I would have tried,” Jaina told her.

“I know. I should have known,” Sylvanas told her. “And I know now it’s too little too late.”

Jaina reached for her, and just as Sylvanas had done when she’d first arrived, let her hand drop empty. It was covered still by the clawed gauntlet, hiding the mark that Sylvanas knew burned beneath it. Jaina was clearly not ready to divest herself of such armor around her, nor did she blame her for such caution.

Still, she reached.

“I can’t say I didn’t wish you did this all of this much sooner, but if you were manipulated as you say, I understand how hard it must have been to do at all,” Jaina said, looking down at that hand before clenching it, the metal of the gauntlet creaking. “But know that I don’t accept that as an excuse.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Sylvanas told her. “Or anyone. I deserve far worse than Tyrande’s blade at my neck, which I’ve no doubt she still wants to deliver to me.”

Tyrande’s absence on the ships was noteworthy. Even though the ceasefire had caused all Horde forces to be removed from Darkshore, she had pursued them to the last—apparently culling them from the boat ramps and swinging ladders hanging from hovering zeppelins. When Sylvanas had posed the question of where she was to Anduin at the beginning of the summit, he’d simply shaken his head.

“I only ask that if I am to be punished, that I do so after we have defeated Zovaal, at least in some measure,” Sylvanas went on. “I will be of no use rectifying my crimes if I am to be in chains once again.”

“I fail to see how that helps any of us,” Jaina concluded. “There is no doubt in anyone’s mind you have been truthful about this, you know. Not even mine. You were correct before in saying you had everything to lose if you weren’t.”

“Delivering oneself into the hands of one's enemies spouting madness they cannot prove is not the strategy of a woman with secrets left to keep,” Sylvanas noted. “I am done with secrets. Truly. Ask of me what you want, what you need to know and I will answer. I owe you at least that, for coming to hear me out.”

Sylvanas watched as Jaina’s lips wrapped around a question, then held it in, like a sigh she did not want to allow to escape. A prayer, maybe. A complaint, perhaps. There was so much to talk about, but the moon was rising, following her ardent and fruitless pursuit of the sun. Tonight, it was only a small crescent, still regaining its form and power. But, it was waxing, not waning.

And while Jaina seemed to debate what question she should ask first, she was asking.

Her pause left Sylvanas enough time to wonder what she would ask, if Jaina were to open herself up this way.

That answer was as simple as it was impossible, really. “Did you love me?” would be what she wanted to know. Ever, at all, still? It didn’t matter. But it wasn’t a question she’d been invited to ask, or one she could give voice to even if she was. Not now, at least. Perhaps not ever.

Perhaps she might never know. Perhaps, she might have to be content with her soulmate standing at arm’s length from her, struggling to find the right words, offering only distant hope of a truce, an alliance of needs, and nothing more.

But loved or not, Sylvanas supposed that was better than the alternative. Still, Jaina was here. She’d listened.

She opened her mouth again to speak.

“Can we maybe sit a while and just, well, talk?” Jaina asked. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear more about this Zovaal and the Maw.”

It was something. Anything at all.

“We can talk, yes,” Sylvanas answered, as she watched Jaina sweep aside her skirts, and sit upon a nearby boulder.

She gestured to the same rock, where a flat place was left empty just beside her, waiting, inviting.

It was the closest Sylvanas had been to her—no. That wasn’t right. Jaina had reached out to her the day before, touched her skin, asked for her to meet. No more melodramatics, no more comparisons of the years and years she’d lost to death and dominance, the wrong and the right of it. These would not serve Sylvanas in her goals, her atonements. Her actions would.

Sylvanas sat next to her soulmate, and though she desperately wanted to reach out to touch her again, she held her bare hands still in her lap. She would tell Jaina everything she wanted to know, everything she was willing to hear. Sincere words were never her forte, but as a career soldier, she could report like no one’s business. If Jaina wanted a report, she’d get the report of her lifetime, so long as she was willing to listen.

And Jaina, it seemed—sitting beside her, back straight, arcane fire dancing still in her eyes and on the strands of her hair—was still listening.

---

Another day, another lifetime ago, and Clea had once again perched herself on the edge of the Ranger General’s desk, legs swinging, without invitation.

“What has you grinning with your ears pointing straight to Belore like that?” she asked as she unceremoniously took up her favorite seat in all of Silvermoon.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was a report from Vereesa on supply lines?” Sylvanas offered, not looking up from the letter that was decidedly not that.

“No. Well, wait, it depends on the type of supply lines. I know you love a good artillery shipment, but maybe not that much,” Clea said.

Sylvanas huffed a laugh. While she would indeed be delighted to get some new ballistas requisitioned for the weaker points of their defensive lines on the Amani front, the likelihood of King Anasterian prioritizing that was far lower than her chances of even finding her once in a lifetime soulmate, whose letter she was actually smiling over.

Clea took this opportunity to peek for her answer and snorted her own response, “Well, I doubt Vereesa writes to you in Common, so I’d say you’re drooling over a letter from your pretty mage instead.”

“I don’t drool,” Sylvanas retorted. “But I also don’t wish to waste time lying to you. Now, Ranger, was there a purpose to your visit other than to pester me about my love life?”

“You love her then?”

Sylvanas knew that the question was meant to be teasing in nature. It was hardly meant as the existential blow that it felt like, a slap across the face that reality must be answered to.

Of course she loved Jaina. That much she knew. The truth of it was so odd though. She’d met the woman for only a week, and still knew precious little about her. Fate had decided to place them in each other’s hearts, forever bound by their souls, and while Sylvanas had relished in the idea of no longer being alone in this world, she had not done so with love in mind. Odd as it was to say, she sought her soulmate for wholeness’ sake as much as anything else really. It was a thing one did, a lifelong pursuit in the long life of an elf, one she was lucky to fulfill in her relative youth.

But yes, the answer was easy. She loved her. She loved Jaina with every fiber of her being, every steady beat of her heart, every calming reminder of their bond as Jaina’s thoughts and feelings leaked so subtly into her mind across the vast distance that separated them, and likely would for much of their lives. They were still figuring out where they would live, where they might even meet for the next time, once Jaina was finished with this silly little jaunt around Lordaeron.

She wanted Sylvanas to come to Dalaran, of course. That was the topic of this letter, apparently sent just before she left the city of mages to accompany Prince Arthas.

Sylvanas hated Dalaran, but for Jaina, she could try. That, she supposed, was what love really was, at least to her—a willingness to put all aside, grievances and gratitudes alike, just to be with someone. Even if that meant dealing with an entire city full of snooty magisters. Jaina deserved that much from her—to do as Sylvanas had done with her in Quel’thalas, and take her to meet her friends, to eat at her favorite restaurants, to see the things and people and places that were important to her.

It was all so strange how this worked with soulmates. It felt like doing love in reverse. The deep, unfathomable bond was there already, but Sylvanas didn’t know what wine Jaina liked best yet, or what she would do to cheer herself up or clear her mind when she was feeling weary of the world and its trials. She didn’t know her favorite color. She didn’t know what animal she’d most often pretend to be when playing make-believe growing up.

Sylvanas, of course, had been a fearsome lynx in her childhood games. What animals were even so prevalent in Kul Tiras for Jaina to assume their imaginary form in her play? Sylvanas didn’t know. She almost jotted down a note to herself to find a natural atlas of the island nation to familiarize herself with the possibilities, but remembered that Clea was there, now looking strangely at her as Sylvanas hadn’t responded in her musing.

“Of course I do,” she answered.

Because she did. She loved Jaina Proudmoore, and was looking forward to spending the rest of whatever time the gods might allow them to have together to get to know her, however and whenever she could.

[shai-manahan]

Hollowed Minds Progress Update 1/02/24

Hi! I hope you're all having a good year so far! I planned to post this last night but I was too anxious over having to return to work lmfao (with the holidays being over and all). Anyway, I know it's been a year since my last update; believe me, I'm upset about it, too, and I'm trying to make up for that.

To be completely honest, aside from my health, one thing that's been stopping me from progressing steadily was my attempts at improving the way I write. I was struggling to find my own style the entire year, experimenting over and over (sometimes without rest, like an idiot), and I know that probably sounds stupid, but writing as a craft is so special to me that I want to be better at it.

It did backfire, though. A lot. Mostly because I couldn't maintain a balance between this and irl stuff.

The thing is, I plan to write trad novels and short stories in the future. I plan to go back to writing screenplays, too. I don't think I'll ever stop making IFs, but there are things I want to write about that I can never do through this medium (and the same is true vice versa). This is also why I tend to keep editing HM while trying to push through with newer updates; this is the only way I can learn more about what I wish to do in the future. This is my chance to practice and experiment, before I get anything published and make the kind of impression I aim to make.

And I think I finally found the style I love to use the most this time.

I feel ready now to post progress updates regularly at least every two weeks (this one doesn't count). I was ashamed of my slow progress for quite a while, but I know I can start moving forward again. I'm also just eager to show you the story I've always wanted to share, and that'd never happen unless I push myself so :').

You're free to ask for progress in case I miss doing this btw, just. don't be an ass about it lmao. And feel free to send asks as well!

So far, this is what I'm trying to improve for the posted demo:

conciseness

strengthening the settings and the descriptions involving them

revising a few dialogues that do not fit the characters at all

readability and making some details clearer

overall pacing of ch2's first part

the nightmare scenes

reassessment of which variations would be most important to the plot and MC's characterization.

everything else I cannot think of right now

I think I'll dedicate a week or two into finishing whatever needs to be cleaned up so there'll be less game-breaking bugs that might happen for the new content. But after that 👀

That's all for tonight!

P.S. recently bought a lampshade and damn. this is definitely much better for my eyes when I write.