#One of the things I was the most curious about was piercings! I imagine most ear piercings could stay but others
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sysig · 3 months ago
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Spoiling for a fight, spoiled for choice (Patreon)
#Doodles#Damned#Osmosis Jones#Ozzy#Thrax#Starting to move into random vignettes - let's see where I can slot them into place#Starting with pouting Thrax - petulance hardly suits a serial killer pls#He hasn't killed Anyone here yet ugh! Or has he lol he just wasn't happy with how it turned out#I assume a lot happened during Nightshifts but it seemed like the monsters tended to band patients together despite alignment hmm#Not that I'm planning anything different but it does make me curious!#Scribbly Thrax to set up the one of him threatening Oz#What's funny is that initially it was Drix who threw down the gauntlet basically being like ''He can't do anything here''#Drix I hate to tell you this but Yes He Can - and it's still Oz that takes the heat for it haha#Drix is not someone you want to mess with for simultaneously opposite reasons lol - he's a dorky tank it's pretty great#Although here he's just a mild-mannered Everyman - fun to take powers away!#Which of course happens to everyone haha#He can't keep any of his accessories! Naked without them!#One of the things I was the most curious about was piercings! I imagine most ear piercings could stay but others#They could be used as impromptu weapons couldn't they? Curious#Everyone's actual clothes and accessories are taken anyway so The Rest is a moot point but y'know - coping with alternatives#It's black yarn this time you can't prove anything lol#Thrax is constantly messing with his hypothalamus necklace so I imagine not having /anything/ has to feel weird to him#But of course he wouldn't be allowed to carry something that he could use against others with him! Too dangerous!#Haha if only#Really makes me want to think about his possible MU - his hand is already scarred so what's a bit more hmmm
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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 9 months ago
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I don't kiss and tell
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Little drabbles where creator!reader gets pregnant and the archons get into a witch hunt
Wc: ~600
Sumeru’s specialty tea is delicious, the lightest taste of anise and black tea with an array of spices that you couldn't even begin to pinpoint. The youngest archon besides you is talking your ear off about the origins and constitution of the tea, the exports it has and how it is different from the teas you tasted in Liyue. 
The only thing souring the atmosphere was the bickering and yelling voices from across the table
“Your dirty citizens are libertine enough to attempt to lie besides a god!” The electro archon points her finger at the anemo archon, her nose scrunched and her teeth bared
“Mine?! I doubt anyone would dare to! At most I imagine they wanted to be close friends!”
The tsaritsa rolls her eyes and mutters something along the lines of ‘very close friends it seems’
“You doubt? You don't sound too sure about that. I'm confident nobody from my nation would dare to make advances on them” zhongli blows on his cup and sips on it
“Didn't the trip get behind schedule around sumeru? I remember Neuvillette was stressed because the welcome had to be rearranged by a week” Furina grabs a piece of cake, playing with the cherry on top.
“ah?!” Nahida gasps as she is chatting with you. She taps her chin ”I can't remember a chance they had alone so I would say it's impossible”
“And why did the trip take an extra week? I was never truly sure about that” zhongli asks her 
“Oh, I was dead set on going to Aaru village and having a quick view to the pyramids” you chuckle a bit, seeing how nahida was upset at the accusations.
“Isn't it weird that Miss Furina is here too? Even if we named it archon meeting it's meant more as a head of state so I was expecting the great judge to be seated here” Raiden points that out
“E-eh?!” She gasps as she leans away from the purple piercing gaze “He was just unable to come so he asked me” 
“Isn't that convenient?”
The tsaritsa sighs and stops tapping her fingers on the wood table. Now looking at you she says “I'm sorry if it's too impolite but can't you cut us the chase and tell us who it was?”
You look away, a tiny strained laugh slipping through your teeth “I think I prefer his safety, thanks” 
“No, thank you”
“At the very least what nation is he from?” 
The next months there was special attention paid to particular carvings or newly acquired habits
“Isn't it curious how they are suddenly so in love with grape juice? Didn't your nation have a winemaker who preferred grape juice?” The tsaritsa asks, a stiff smile painted on her face.
“And didn't they also like a seafood soup that also happened to be one of your harbinger's specialties?” venti matches her energy, already fed up with the fourth accusation 
“Don't make me send someone to kick your ass again”
“I doubt a pile of ashes could put up much of a fight” 
“Our grace has been taking longer walks lately, buer, maybe they are trying to get closer to the dendro element” 
“they told me they wanted to feel the breeze better, that might be it, Beel”
“Why do I get dragged into every discussion?!” Venti yelps from the kitchen
“Doctor baizhu told me to keep an eye on them, the pregnancy seems to have made them crave rocks
“Isn't baizhu from Liyue, lord of Geo?” 
“And also ice cubes, tsaritsa. It reminds me, wasn't one of your harbingers also in Liyue at that time to close a deal with the Tianquan?”
“Why does everyone think is someone from my nation did it?!”
“Nation of freedom
”
“The biggest wine and sparkling wine importer
”
“You used your week to go bar hopping..”
“You are a weak and unimposing leader
”
“That part sounded more personal than anything!”
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ivorydragoness44 · 9 months ago
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Warren Peace x Reader: Interest
Word Count: 766 Warnings/Notes: Slightly confused Reader, mention of growing embarrassment (brief), friends asking a lot of questions, implied crush on Warren Peace. Cute moment with Warren. Summary: The Reader is a little late to lunch, but just before they make it to their table of friends, another student asks them out. How will the group of friends react to the news?
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  It was not usual for you to be a little late to lunch. Sure, it was only by a few minutes, but you were hungry.   With your lunch finally in your grasp, you made your way around the tables already occupied by the normal chatter of other students. Normal may not have been the best word choice for minors with super human abilities, but it was for you. Most days.   You caught Layla’s attention as you neared the table. Her friendly smile, however, was lost to you as your view became obstructed.   Halting with a piercing squeak of your shoe, you waited in confusion.   “Hey,” he said. A student that you recognized from a few of your classes stood in front of you.   “Hi,” you gave a small smile in acknowledgement.   He took a moment’s breath and scratched the back of his head. “Um
”   “Is everything okay?”   “Do you want to go out with me?”   Your eyebrows shot up. “What? I-I mean, no. No, thank you.”   A strange mixture of emotions bubbled around and you made a mad dash around him before the heat of embarrassment from a few fumble of words spread. With long quick strides, you finally made it to the lunch table.
  Is being a teenager always like this? Why were emotions so complicated some times?   “What was that about?” Layla asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.   Setting down your food, you took a deep calming breath and sat down beside Warren. “Oh, um, he asked me out.”   A page crinkled to your right, but your friends were otherwise quiet.   Layla leaned forward, her pigtails swaying slightly over her green salad. “And?”   “And I said no.” Confident. Self-assured with your decision, though seemingly small in comparison to other more pressing issues, felt good. And why shouldn’t you?   “Good for you,” Magenta nodded in agreement.   “But why?” Zach asked, his nose scrunching in his bewilderment. “Do you not like him or something?”   “It’s not that simple,” you said between bites of your food.   “And why not?” He pressed, making you laugh a little.   Patting a napkin over your mouth, you sighed quietly. “Well, firstly, I’m not going to go out or date someone that I don’t like, or not interested in. Heck, I’ve barely talked with him.”   Layla and Magenta nodded slowly. “Sounds reasonable enough.”   “Any other reason?” Will asked, peering over Warren’s hunched form.   You laughed, “What, you want a detailed list or something?”   “That sounds a bit excessive,” Warren smiled into his book.   “Unless the list is for myself, out of curiosity and to better understand my own reasons and stuff.”   “And what would you put on the list for that guy?” Ethan asked, pulling your attention away from Warren.   It was nearing on hilarious by how invested they were about such a short conversation. If it could even be considered a conversation.   “For one thing, he never returned the pen he borrowed from me, and I saw him break it while fiddling with it. So, there’s that.”   Will burst out in laughter. “Is that why you don’t want to date him? Because—”   “No,” you stopped him. “I just don’t like him. Especially in that way. If I’m not friends with, or just can’t even imagine myself holding his or anyone’s hand, then I’m not going out with them.”   “Oh,” Will looked down, “sorry.”   “No biggie,” you smiled reassuringly, before returning to what remained of the food in front of you.
  Curious concerning friends. You were grateful for that. They each showed it in their own ways. And as invested as they had become, you were relieved that neither one of them had asked one question in particular. Who are you interested in?   Your eyes drifted from your lunch to the inky text in front of Warren. “Good book?”   Glancing over at you with a smile, his voice was soft, warm. “Yeah. It’s the third in the series.”   “Cool.”   As your eyes both pulled away from each other, you caught movement from under the table. The motion was slow and short. Had you been deeply involved with something else, you might have missed it entirely. Warren had lightly bumped your knee with his.   Could you ever decipher if he was flirting with you or just being a delightful silly friend with gestures like those? You were not sure. But one day you would know, and you hoped that it was both. Why not?   Smiling to yourself, you nudged your knee to his twice. Though as you retracted, his knee met yours again and remained there.   This should be interesting.
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Hi! Thank you for reading! I seem to be writing more Warren Peace now lol I have other ideas/WIPs that I'm working on, so I hope you're ready for that.
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Part 2 to this fanfiction
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edenalieth · 10 months ago
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LOVE CURSE
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Pairing: god of love!minho x Y/N
Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff with angst
Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. When you got assigned to Minho to be bonded to your soulmate, he thought his mission would be done in a blink of an eye. Little did he know that his biggest ally would be his greatest enemy: love.
Words: 6K 
A.N: first fic of 2024, we cheered! sorry, it took me more time than i thought it would,,, that photoshoot inspired me for this story, as well as the song "rewrite the stars". my bad for the possible mistakes, hope you enjoy :) any interactions are sincerely appreciated đŸ«¶. — 240304
Being a god of love wasn’t always easy. Mortals thought it was all about fate and butt naked babies shooting their arrows at them. However, it wasn’t as perfect as they could imagine it and deities didn’t look like cherubs. 
Minho had not a single memory about his past life. One day, he had opened his eyes after wandering into darkness for a really long time and had been welcomed by an angel. This angel happened to be his new brother, Felix, who introduced him to more brothers and sisters. Felix was always cheerful, he exhaled warmth and passion, a ray of sunshine in a solid form. He taught him everything he had to know for his new function as a love god. The good sides and the bad ones. Among the great ones was the chase, as they called it with his siblings. An interesting part where they used their magic to get close to their assigned human. Using ancestral methods, they tricked their customer into thinking that they knew each other since forever. This way, it was easier for them to establish a bond with their chosen one and Minho was always sincerely curious about their lives, hopes and dreams. Once the spark of love was strong enough, came the second step. The aim. It was truly thrilling for Minho to shoot an arrow. The way the wood of his bow perfectly fitted on his hand, like an extension of his arm. Or when his fingers, hooking on the silver bowstring, had to keep the perfect balance before releasing his arrow, which never failed to ignite the passion between two human beings. It gave him goosebumps every time. Finally, came the evanescence. When the arrow had reached the heart and the two lovebirds were united, the god of love had to disappear from their lives. Despite how poetic all this appeared to be, not everyone had the chance to get their « happy ever after ». Divinities exclusively interfered to match a mortal to its soulmate and they had a glimpse of their future together. Unfortunately, they sometimes had to tie someone to a person who would break them in the most awful ways. No matter how bad it would be, they would remain in love with them to the point where they would forget about themselves. Minho had forced himself to become insensitive to such situations but, deep inside, he despised it. He felt nauseous and anger was running through his veins as he had to watch his customers becoming miserable in front of his eyes. Occasionally, he wished he could bribe the lord of death, Chan, into getting rid of those pests
 Sadly, this deity wasn’t easy to negotiate with. They did their duty and nothing else. 
When you got assigned to Minho, he didn’t think much about it and started his chase. You were a university student, pretty cheerful and a bit grumpy when things didn’t go your way. You loved to meet new people and hang out with your friends. Reading was one of your favorite hobby and you had a chubby black cat named Churros. Funny, he thought with a small smile on his face. He liked animals because they weren’t fooled by his powers like humans were, especially cats. With their piercing gaze, they could see the magic surrounding the deities, energy flows swirling around them in tints of red, black and gold. Truly smart beings. 
Minho put his backpack correctly on his shoulders as he looked over his surroundings. Students were walking toward the entry door, chatting, laughing or shuffling sleepily — probably some hangover or all nighters for exams. Finally, he spotted you. Walking through the crowd, he reached you and put a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, visibly surprised and wondering about who the hell was touching you unprovoked. You frowned, met by a face you had never seen before, a beautiful face. It was a guy. He seemed to be the same age as you, his skin looked smooth, his pink lips stretched into a gentle smile and his hair were copper brown. Slowly, you attached your eyes to his. Warm and deep. 
The god of love knew it was the perfect time to use his powers, you were visibly confused. Coming closer to your face, he saw your eyes widening. « I’m going to help you. » he whispered to your ear. When he glanced at you again and noticed the light veil over your eyes. Magic was happening. Shaking your head, as if emerging from a dream, your face lit up. « Minho! Gosh, I really thought you were going to leave me alone again. You know that I hate that class
 », you gritted your teeth saying that. 
Perfect, he thought. From now on, he would be your longtime friend who happened to go to the same university as you. « I know, I know » he replied, ruffling your hair. You looked offended as your fingers were quickly brushing your locks in an attempt to style them back properly. « You
 Do you know how long it took me to do this ? » you grumbled, your eyes sending daggers to your friend. Minho smirked, playing his role to get to know you better. « Are you doing all of this for Thomas ? » he mused, teasing you. Naturally, you were his assigned human and he knew who he had to match you with and how to play with it to make you fall. Your cheeks turned into a bright red. You scoffed in disdain. « Me ? Doing this for a man ? Don’t be silly. » you rolled your eyes and grabbed his arm, changing the subject to the paper you had to write for today. Your crush was ridiculously obvious. He wondered if he would act this way if only he was able to love. However, your budding feelings for Thomas would help to get his job done faster. It took more time when he had to do all the job, create the meeting, put the right mood to some situation in attempt to make both parties fall in love. Yes, it would be easy. You sighed, « And here we go, for two hours of boredom  ». You sat down and prepared your papers, hurrying Minho to do the same. Obediently, he did as told and started his own class: learning about you. 
Days turned into weeks and he knew a lot about you by now. You frowned when you were highly focused on something, you hated romcom — at least it was what you said, except that Minho witnessed you tearing up in front of 13 going 30 —, you were the type of person to scream your lungs out to songs while driving, you chewed on your lips and then complained about it when they were getting chapped. To make it short, you were lively in the most beautiful ways and the love god didn’t seem to grow tired of it. « Pull yourself together » he thought, lightly splashing his face with water. He had to make things move on between you and Thomas. Your interest for him didn’t seem to fade, after all, you were meant to be. He looked at his reflection on the mirror and was surprised by his expression: he seemed annoyed. Straightening his back, he glanced one more time at his face, defying it, before exiting the bathroom. 
« Took you long enough » you stated, looking at the brown haired boy. He shrugged « Sorry ? ». You gestured him to come sit next to you. Churros was purring on your legs as you scratched it behind its ears and Minho looked at the scene fondly. Taking place by your side, he joined you to pet the black cat. You discreetly looked at your friend. You had been knowing him since you were kids — magic made you think that — and never had you realized how handsome he was. In your eyes, he was just your annoying lost twin. Kind of. At least, you thought
 Or tried to convince yourself. Also, Thomas was there and you liked him, right ? Minho raised his head and caught you staring at him. He tilted his head before asking you, « What’s troubling you ? ». You shook your head, scratching your cat under its chin. « Hmm nothing  » your voice was low and not convincing at all, your friend wouldn’t fall for your masquerade. He came closer to you and nudge your shoulder. « Come on Y/N, what’s on your mind ? ». Seeing his eyes, you couldn’t resist them and gave up. You felt a bit embarrassed but gathered your courage up. « Have you ever been in love ? » you asked, your hands stopped moving and Churros half opened its eyes, its green pupils looking deep inside your soul. A brief silence filled the room. Minho was staring at the ceiling before clearing his throat. « Well, I’ve never experienced it myself but I believe it’s a precious and incredible feeling  » your friend seemed a bit gloomy and you were almost disappointed by his answer. « Have you ? » he kept going, curious to know if you were going to talk about your crush with him. The god of love was expectant. « Yes  » « How does it feel ? I can only imagine. » Minho smiled but his eyes weren’t. « It feels warm and exciting but complicated at times too  » you stated. « I mean, what do you do when you start having feelings for someone unexpected ? » The brown haired boy hummed. « Like falling for someone you never thought you would ? » You nodded, « Exactly. It's like... you have this image in your head of who you're supposed to be attracted to, and then someone comes along and totally flips that upside down. » The deity chuckled. « Hmm. I see what you mean. » a tint of bitterness lacing his voice. « But isn't that part of the magic of love? Discovering new feelings and connections you never imagined ? ». Why were you so hesitant about your feelings ? Never in his career he had witnessed that. Lighting the spark of love could took a bit longer to build but his customers never openly expressed their confusion. Was he lacking on some point ? As earlier when he was in the bathroom, he felt annoyance rushing through his veins and a strange tickling at the bottom of his nape...  Churros left your lap, feeling the agitation of yours and Minho’s hearts. « I suppose so. It's just
 I know you’ve noticed, I've been crushing on Thomas for a while now, but lately, someone else came into the picture  » you were elusive on purpose. Minho got caught off guard on that one. What was going on ? Something was definitely wrong. Who were you talking about ? He would have to review every single people being close to you to find out if you decided not to speak. You bent towards him, your move making your fingers brush against his, sending electricity into your system. « It’s a secret. » you sticked your tongue out and stood up. Still on the floor, Minho looked at you in disbelief. « What ? You started this conversation and now you’ve decided to remain silent ? ». Towering him, you shrugged and turned on the music to distract him. 
This was an emergency. He needed to talk to Felix, right now. On his way home, he grabbed his phone on his pocket and looked for his brother’s number. He tapped on his name and waited to hear the ringtone. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. « Your contact isn’t available at the moment  » Minho swore as he was welcomed by the robotic voice. « Please leave a message after the ri  ». He hung up and dialed the number again and again and again. Finally, no automatic message but a deep upset voice, which was pretty rare. « For love sake, Minho. Why are you calling me ? I was preparing my aim. You better have a good reason to bother me and make me miss my shot. » he groaned. « My human. Y/N. She’s hesitant. » He heard his brother sighing. « And ? It happens all the time. Give her one more week and she will be ready. Now, if you may exc  » Loosing his temper, Minho cut him off. « It’s not like usual. And, for your knowledge, my clients never hesitate on their feelings. » he cockily added. Felix laughed. « Ok. Then, describe me how is it different ? ». Minho could hear the noises of the city coming from the end of the line. « I don’t feel that energy coming from her, it’s like
 glowing a different way. And I have that constant itch bothering me... » he whispered, confused by the events. « Have you ever heard of someone changing their fate ? » « Minho. It’s written in the stars, it’s impossible to undo it. » the angel stated firmly. « Are you sure ? Wasn’t there any case of someone rewriting them ? » His voice felt desperate and he was. He was hundred percent sure that something odd was happening. A loud silence echoed his question. « Do you want my honest opinion ? » « Please. » he begged. « I think you’re the one with an unsteady heart. You’ve been around Y/N for too long. You’ve never spent much time with one of your assigned mortal and your magic is weakening. » Felix answered. Offended, the god of love received those words like a slap in the face. However, it would explain his discomfort. « This is nonsense. I’m telli  » but he hadn’t time to finish his sentence. « One week and not a single day more. » The ringtone resonated, announcing the final sentence. 
One week. He had to calculate all his next moves. If Felix was right, nobody knew what would happened if Minho was loosing his power. Yet, he wasn’t scared about it but was terrified at the idea of loosing you forever. Once his job done, it would be as if he had never existed. You would remember a presence but would not be able to put a name or a face on it. Usually, Minho considered his mission like a book. He had to get into it, enjoy it, untangle the plot and put it on a shelf once done. With you, he wanted the story to keep going. However, he was supposed to be a side character and not a main one. The love god felt stupid and bothered by that strange sensation squeezing his heart. What was it ? He could only identify anger and disappointment. His fists were clenched and he had to fight the urge to punch the nearest wall. This is when you decided to intervene. He felt his phone buzzing. The screen illuminated the room he was in. 
y/n: want to grab a coffee before class tomorrow ?
minho: sure!
y/n: perfect! see u :)
He sighed. He had to find a solution by the next morning and make you and Thomas fall in love, for once and for all. That night, the brown haired boy barely slept. 
You were waiting for your friend in front of the coffee shop. Minho appeared at the corner, disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. « Wow, you definitely need some coffee. » You teased him. He groaned and opened the door for you. « Barely slept. » he briefly explained. « Thanks, I had noticed. » you scoffed. Once your coffee taken, you strolled along the path toward university campus, backpacks slung over your shoulders. « So, any plans for the weekend ? »  the love god asked, trying his best to look cheerful. You shrugged, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. « Not much, just the usual. Probably bury myself in textbooks and drown in a sea of caffeine. Exams are coming up. »
Minho rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow. « Come on, Y/N, you need to loosen up a bit. Life's not all about studying. Besides, I heard there's a party happening this Saturday. You have to come with me. » Your ears perked up at the mention of a party, your curiosity piqued. It has been a while since you wen to a party and going there with Minho sounded even greater.  « A party, huh? Sounds intriguing. Who's throwing it ? ». The brown haired boy flashed you a mischievous smile. « Oh, you know, just some friends from the other campus. But here's the juicy part – I heard that Thomas will be there. »
At the mention of Thomas’ name, your heart sunk a little. Maybe you would finally be able to put a word on your feelings for him, know if it was a small crush or something more serious. Maybe you would understand why you felt jelly and happier than ever around Minho too

« Thomas? » you echoed, « Are you sure? ». The love god nodded enthusiastically. Going to a party was a simple strategy but it often worked. "Positive! This could be your chance to make a move. » He winked. You rolled your eyes. « Shush. I’m not even sure if I want to be with him anymore. » you whined. « Then it’s the perfect occasion, right ? » He was right. « Alright, you've convinced me, » you finally replied, a determined glint in your eyes. « I'll go to the party with you. ». Minho seemed relieved by your answer and closed the gap between the both of you to quickly kiss your cheeks. That sudden move of affection startled you as you brought a hand to your face. « Good! I will see you later then. » he waved you goodbye and disappeared in the corridor. As he rushed to his class, mixed feelings and a strong sensation of warmth filled his system. 
When he came back home on that day, the deity decided to face his own feelings. The kiss on your cheek ? It felt natural, yet really odd. Never he had done this with a mortal before but he wanted to try again. As he sat there, lost in the midst of his own thoughts, he couldn't shake the strange sensation that had been creeping up on him lately. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, gentle yet persistent, nudging him to pay attention to something he hadn't noticed — or even felt — before.
At first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a weakness, a fleeting moment of curiosity. But the more he tried to ignore it, the louder it became, until it was impossible to ignore any longer. It was a feeling, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting, like sunbathing on fresh grass. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, couldn't find the words to describe it, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.
Suddenly it hit him, like a bolt of lightning. Could it be...? No, it couldn't. It was absurd, unthinkable, impossible. He was a god of love, he was here to help mortals not to fa
 No, no, no. And yet, the more he tried to deny it, the more it seemed to make sense. He was definitely falling for you, for your laughter that echoed like music in his ears, for your smile that lit up even the darkest corners of his heart. It was a realization that sent his mind into a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.
What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with these newfound feelings ? What was going to happen to you, your fate, his powers ? He felt torn, caught between the familiarity of the past and the uncertainty of the future. Part of him wanted to hold onto what he knew, to the comfort of familiarity, while another part yearned to embrace this new, unknown territory with open arms. But one thing was clear amidst the chaos of his thoughts: he couldn't ignore this feeling any longer. It was a part of him now, a piece of the puzzle that had been missing all along or messing with the stars. And whether it led him down a path of heartache, he knew he had to face it head-on, for better or for worse. He was scared, obviously. However, he would enjoy his final days with you, shoot his arrow and disappear. He would get another mission and drown his feelings, trying to forget about you for the rest of his immortal life

Days passed by, slipping from his hands, and weekend was already there. He dressed himself up and headed to the party. As he was getting closer of his friend’s house, he felt his heart sinking. When he entered the place, the thumping bass reverberated through the crowded living room as Minho scanned the sea of faces, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of excitement and gloom. He had promised himself that tonight would be the night he finally bonded you and Thomas for eternity, but now that the moment was upon him, doubt gnawed at his resolve like a persistent itch.
Spotting you across the room, your radiant smile lighting up the dimly lit space, Minho's breath caught in his throat. You looked absolutely stunning, your eyes sparkling with laughter — you seemed a bit tipsy too — as you mingled effortlessly with the other partygoers.
Determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped through his fingers, Minho made his way through the crowd, weaving between bodies. But just as he reached out to tap your shoulder, a voice cut through the din like a knife slicing through butter.
« Hey, Minho! What are you doing over here all by yourself ? »
Minho turned to find Felix grinning at him, a beer in hand and mischief dancing in his eyes. « Felix
 What are you doing here ? »
Felix arched an eyebrow, his grin widening into a knowing smirk, except that his eyes felt low-key frightening. Minho had never seen that look on his face before. « Let me guess – you're trying to find Y/N, aren't you ? I hope it’s to do your job. Tomorrow is your last chance if you can’t do it tonight, which would honestly be a shame.»
Minho felt the heat rise to his cheeks, cursing himself for being so transparent. « Yeah, actually. I was hoping to talk to her. »
Felix chuckled, clapping Minho on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. « Talk to her about what exactly ? » he aggressively whispered. « You were right, Minho. The ancient gods noticed your weird behavior and they’re now asking for results. That’s why they sent me here tonight. Also, I hate to break it to you, but it looks like she's already found her right match."
Minho's heart sank like a stone as he followed Felix's gaze across the room, where you were engaged in animated conversation with none other than Thomas. His stomach churned with jealousy and disappointment as he watched you laugh and joke together, your easy proximity like a dagger to his heart.
Desperate to salvage the situation before it spiraled out of control, Minho racked his brain for a way to interrupt. But before he could formulate a plan, fate intervened in the cruelest of ways, as Thomas locked eyes with yours and began to make his way toward you with the inevitability of two stars on a collision course.
With a unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, Minho realized that his efforts to keep you for himself would be in vain. And as he watched you both draw closer, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been fighting a losing battle all along.
But even as the bitter sting of defeat washed over him like a wave crashing against the shore, Minho knew that he couldn't give up hope just yet. For in matters of the heart, anything was possible – even miracles. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he nearly sprinted in your direction, pushing away the guests and ignoring his brother’s screams. 
With newfound determination burning bright within him, Minho felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that love was worth fighting for – even if it meant risking everything he held dear: his powers, his own life. Because what would happen if things weren’t turning the way they should ? He was going against destiny and it had messed up yours too. And, if he lost his powers, you would probably forgot about him since your friendship had, at first, been built on the illusions he had created.
And as the party raged on around him, Minho took a deep breath and stepped boldly between the two of you, stopping Thomas from achieving his move whether it was a hug or a kiss. The man seemed surprised and offended. « Yo
 Do we know each other ? » he asked. « We don’t, but I'm here with her. » Minho held your hand in his, the warmth of his skin against your sending electricity into your veins. You looked at them, glaring at each other as a third guy — blond hair and an angelic face — approached you. Who was he and why it looked like he wanted to punch Minho in the face ? Focusing back on the brown haired boy and Thomas, you said « Minho, it’s fine we were just talking. » He turned his head, frowning, his grip on your hand strengthening. Yet, behind that visible annoyance, you could notice despair and softness in his eyes. « Well, I need to talk to you too. » Before you or Thomas could add a word, he made you follow him across the room. The blond guy was still following you but was struggling to slide between the students. You went upstairs, Minho was trying to find a place where people weren’t making out or throwing up. Eventually, a couple left one of the room, giving you the opportunity to get some privacy. 
The love god closed the door behind you, letting your hand go. « I don’t have much time and I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen after but
 I have to try. » 
« What are you talking about ? » you chuckled nervously, your mouth getting dry. « Remember when I told you I’ve never loved anyone before ? » he asked. You nodded, anticipating. He walked closer to you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture, looking at your face features as if trying to engrave them in his mind. « It took me long enough to admit it but I did
 No, I do love someone. » « Oh  » you sounded disappointed, your heart starting to be torn into pieces until you felt your friend’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face, your eyes widened as his were closing, a single tear threatening to fall anytime. Almost instantly, you drowned onto his touch, your lips moving in perfect sync as your fists were gripping his shirt. Your heart was beating so loudly that it echoed in your eardrum and you felt butterflies getting restless in the pit of your stomach. 
A deep muffled voice could be heard from behind the walls as Minho delicately stepped away from you. As soon as his lips detached from yours, you started to miss them like you would miss oxygen to breathe. « Minho you know about Tho  » « Don’t worry » a tear was rolling down his cheek and he quickly whipped it. « I know you like him
 But, I had to try  ». However, you didn’t feel that way about your old crush. You had a little something for him, yes, but the feeling you had for Minho was stronger than anything you had felt before. You loved him. « Minho I lo  » you couldn’t confess fully when the same innocent looking guy you had seen earlier crashed into the room. 
« Minho. I hope you didn’t do anything stupid or  » however his face started to break down. Scared, you looked at Minho who was getting paler second after second. You rushed to support him as his knees felt weaker. He could feel it, his magic leaving his body. He felt so sleepy, the itch getting intense and your and Felix’s voices sounded faint. Felix cursed as he was walking toward you. « Don’t come closer ! » you warned him, not forgetting the way he looked at him before. Not listening to you, he put one of Minho’s arm around his shoulder and helped him laying down. « Wh-what are you doing ? We need to call an ambulance. » you stuttered. Felix bitterly laughed « Your mortals shit wouldn’t help him, now move aside. ». 
Everything was becoming blurry and dark for the brown haired boy. Laid down, he could see Felix’s lips moving hastily, trying to cast a spell, while your hands were holding his left one tightly. « Mor
 What ? ». The blond hair guy didn’t answer, his hands moving above Minho. You couldn’t see anything but the deity did. Slowly, a golden arrow was appearing on his brother’s hands, shining brightly.
You were done with this strange guy. With trembling hands, you took your phone and dialed the emergency number. Immediately, someone answered you and asked for the reason of your call.
« My friend is
 He is really pale and
 he doesn’t speak anymore. I
 Yes, he’s breathing. No  » 
Conversation kept going as you described his state, distracted and barely paying attention to Felix who was finally done casting his spell. The arrow weighted heavily on his hands, more than usual. He looked at his brother with uncertainty. The ancient gods gave him the mission to do the necessary to help Minho, no matter what, even if it had to cost him his life. His throat was burning and his hands were holding the arrow so firmly that his knuckles were turning white. With a gain of lucidity, Minho looked at Felix. Who would have thought that his biggest ally would turn out to be his greatest enemy, love itself. Minho knew what would happen if the angel was planting the arrow on his chest. He would die. It was created for mortals only and unique for each of them. Defying destiny was dangerous. Without his power he wouldn’t be able to live, he was doomed by a love curse. 
« Do it. » he whispered, his words so faint he could barely hear them himself. 
Felix looked at him, a frown on his face and teary eyes. The brown haired boy repeated his demand, more loudly this time. His brother closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding the arrow still, right above Minho’s heart. « Remember that you did this to yourself. » Felix’s deep voice broke. « I should have noticed your behavior
 I’m sorry, brother. ». 
Distracted by the sudden agitation at the corner of your eyes. You noticed that the blond hair guy was holding both his hands above your friend. Confused, you looked at them, not answering on the phone anymore. Suddenly, Felix slammed his fists on his brother’s chest. 
The last things Minho could remember was your scream, you pushing Felix as his tears were falling on Minho’s face like a warm summer rain, his energy swirling in a thundery way around him, and the blinding light of the arrow painfully entering his rib cage. He wasn’t regretting his decision. He hoped his brother wouldn’t blame himself. As he said, Minho had did this to himself and, for as long as he could remember, he had never felt so alive. He was happy that he had been able to meet you, love you, share his feelings with you. It costed him his life, yet, he knew that it wouldn’t have been the same if you weren’t part of it. Fortunately, you would forget everything about this thanks to Felix. It would be like a blurry nightmare, nothing more, even if he secretly hoped a part of you would never forget about him. With some sort of contentment, he drowned into darkness. 
Darkness. Sounds scary at first but felt familiar to Minho. After all, he had been wandering in their meanders for a long time before becoming a god of love. It felt cosy, like a nest. He didn’t have to think about anything, just let himself sail around. However, that peace wouldn’t last eternally. Slowly, a reddish light appeared, troubling his comatose state, pulling him out of this world. 
Bip. Bip. Bip. His eyelids were trembling as he tried to come to his senses. Opening his eyes, he noticed where the sound was coming from. A cardiac monitor was near, perfusions were attached to his wrist. Was he at the hospital ? How was it possible ? And what was that muffled noise ? Scanning his surrounding, he saw him. Felix. His face lighting up as his brother was awaking. He could tell that he was definitely fighting the urge to hold him, scared to hurt him. 
« Minho! I
 I can’t believe you did it  » he sputtered. 
The brown haired boy was confused. « W-why am I here ? » he asked with a hoarse voice. Surprised by it, he brought his hand to his throat. Felix’s face lost his brightness as he started to explain what happened. When the ancient gods sent his brother to bring him back to reason, they also knew that, once every thousand years, a love god could fall for someone. In the manuscripts, few were the ones who survived, most of them loosing their powers before they could do anything except one case. The love god realizing the situation they were in, they decided to shoot the arrow toward themselves, the weapon absorbing all the power but not their soul. 
« This is why they told me to do this. They didn’t explain why until I came back
 The arrow saved you however  » Felix seemed to hesitate. 
« What ? » Minho breathed out. 
« You’re a mortal now. »
The blond haired man seemed sorry, it was some sort of punishment for going against fate. Minho wasn’t. He had a second chance to meet you. 
« Y/N. How is she ? Does she and Thomas » he expectantly asked, hope lacing his voice as he tried to sit up properly, in vain, his muscles still weak. Felix softly smiled at his brother. « She’s doing great. And, no, they’re not bonded  ». A sigh of relief escaped Minho’s mouth. « She doesn’t remember me, right ? » he asked, sappy. The angel shook his head. Of course. He had erased her memories with the brown haired boy. Seeing the sadness creeping up Minho’s face, Felix started to rummage into the bag he had across his chest. Finding what he was looking for, he handed them to Minho. 
« Here. Welcome to your new life. » 
Papers. Lee Minho. Twenty five years old. Born in South Korea. He looked at the angel, baffled. Was it real ? 
« Oh! And you’re starting your final year of university this autumn. You better be ready. » Felix added. 
« Excuse me ? » Minho groaned. 
Several months later. 
The crisp morning air was filled with the buzz of anticipation as students hurriedly made their way to their respective classrooms. You rushed through the throng of students, not wanting to be late for your first day. You glanced at your schedule, confirming the room number for your first class of the semester.
As you approached the corridor where your class was to be held, you noticed a figure leaning casually against the wall, engrossed in a book. His rugged charm caught your eye, and you couldn't help but steal a few glances as you neared him. His deep concentration on the book intrigued you. You have never seen him taking this class before. Was he a new student ? 
With a hesitant smile, you cleared your throat softly, catching the attention of the young man. He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Hi, sorry to bother you," you began, your voice soft and friendly. « Do you know if this is where the Literature class is supposed to meet? »
The young man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he closed his book, revealing a cover adorned with intricate designs in a language you didn’t know. "Yes, it is. I'm actually headed there myself," he replied, his voice warm and inviting.
Relief washed over you as you returned his smile. "Great, thank you. I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced yourself, extending your hand.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Minho," he replied, accepting your handshake with a gentle grip.
Your brief introduction was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening nearby, signaling the start of the class. You looked at your watch, realizing you were running out of time.
"Well, it looks like we better head in," you said with a nod towards the open door.
Minho agreed, falling into step beside you as you made your way into the classroom together. As you found seats near each other, you couldn't shake the feeling of serendipity that hung in the air. You didn’t know him, yet, you felt a deep connection and a sensation of deja-vu.
As the professor began the lesson, you stole another glance at Minho, captivated by his features and feeling grateful for the unexpected connection fate had brought you that morning.
© edenalieth
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popponn · 1 year ago
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a bit and more. [isagi yoichi x reader]
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notes: i love green flag sweetheart isagi but his red flag bastard side also has its own charm. this guy got a good brain, is tenacious when he wants something, is good at hiding it but is a genuine asshole sometimes. i can go on, hence this fit of madness. warning: possessiveness, jealousy, sfw, reader's gender unspecified. isagi is a good boyfriend who is trying, but we all got intrusive thoughts.
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the thing about isagi's possessiveness is no matter how smart he is in hiding, or expressing it in some matters, it really is a nasty thing in its rawest form.
and it goes hand in hand with many things. his jealousy, his selfishness, and his affection to you—
isagi is fully aware he has a certain part in there that is quite messed up. most of the time, those parts only came out during a heated match, even more so when his opponents tried to bait him out. for a long long time, as long as he could remember, isagi never brought out those parts of him outside of that. it's a part away from his family, his daily life, and every part of his that doesn't demand the egoism that had long planted its seed inside of him and bloomed.
yet, recently, there are moments where it slips into the life he shares with you.
the first time began small enough. not quite odd and almost like a dull, steady ache that isagi knows is still appropriate. it was merely a stranger who got too friendly, just a bit too close to you for his liking. isagi reacted to that spark without much fuss. he slid to his rightful place beside you, placing a hand around your shoulder, and pressed his forehead as if he was greeting you, all while silently watching the nobody with a piercing side-eye. then, the stranger was gone and it was the laughs that he shared with you that were important.
you are many of isagi's firsts—especially in the part of his life that isn't dominated by a grueling desire to win, win, and win—including in relationships. isagi dares to say you are the very first person he imagines sharing many things with in this kind of thing, both happy and not. so, when you choose to laugh and put your whole attention on him, isagi thrives and follows suit.
at that time, your relationship was still young and isagi was unfamiliar with that emotion. so, he put it in the back of his mind for later.
then, it pilled up and up and up.
it was you who laughed with bachira during a break.
isagi stood and stared from the other side of the field. it was a normal exchange, the rational part of his brain reasoned. but your eyes were supposed to be on him, the more unpleasant part said in return. so, in a curious manner that wouldn't raise anyone's suspicion, isagi walked towards the two of you and asked, "what are you talking about?"
it was you who accidentally wore the clothes chigiri somehow misplaced in his closet.
"eh, it wasn't yours? i thought you bought a new one..." you blinked, confused and guileless. you didn't make a move from your seat, clearly still taking comfort in your pile of blankets and chigiri's oversized t-shirt. isagi never really understood fashion, but he supposes if an oversized t-shirt is what makes you comfortable he will buy as much as you want later. "nope," isagi answered, pushing any other thoughts to mull over later. "that's chigiri's, i think? wait, let me ask him for a sec." and if isagi did everything in his power to get you out of that t-shirt as soon as possible, he made sure it all looked natural.
then, at some point, it is you, who is waiting for him at home after a long trip away.
it truly does feel ugly, isagi admits. even though he spends the time you two spent apart by listening closely to your story through the video call and replying to your chortle with his own soft smile—as genuine and as loving as it has always been for you—isagi couldn't exactly kick the unfamiliar nasty, gnawing feeling completely away the moment he meets you again. suddenly, with the urgency of matches and momentary soft comforts those calls provide away from the situation, all that is in his mind and feeling becomes a messy chain of questions and demands.
were you doing well while he was gone? did you think of him? how much did you think of him? did you wear and hug his shirts to sleep? did it bother you that he was away for so long? were there anyone—
"did you miss me?" isagi asks you, with lips pressing against your nape. his hands inches away from slipping under your shirt as he cages you from behind. he likes this feeling. it feels like you give him permission to have you, completely trusting him in a manner impossible to reach through efforts alone. isagi knows his ways with luck, but for once he truly feels like a lucky man with the way your body heated up under his touch. isagi likes it. the two of you on the bed, you dressed in his shirt, your body pressing against his, and the marks that start to redden around your neck. lovingly, isagi pressed a kiss to your shoulder. he enjoys the way your breath starts to heave and notes to himself to decorate your shoulder later. when you finally answer, isagi is far from surprised, yet still revels in it like a victor. "of course i do," you say, craning your head towards him with a pair of hazy eyes. when he sees it, isagi realizes the way his heart thumped loudly. he likes it when you look at him like that. it would be nice to have this often. he will work on it later. but for now— "good. i miss you too." —pushing you to the bed, away from anything that isn't him sounds like a good start.
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musings-ofthe-unamused · 1 year ago
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The Rules of Simon Riley (COD)
Pairing: Ghost x Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: Panic attacks, some violence
A/N: Ok wow, y'all ate up the HCs. Good to know.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley was a difficult man to deal with. Everyone knew this, and you weren't a stranger to it either. There were a set of unspoken rules to dealing with Ghost. But rules were meant to be broken, whether it was intentional or not. Besides, you were human. You made mistakes. And Ghost made you nervous. So obviously you had broken maybe one or two
 or all of the rules. 
Rule #1: Don't ask about the mask.
This rule was probably broken the most and without harm. It wasn't like you see a burly, beefy, mountain of a man walking around with a skull mask everyday. All day. At first you were too scared to say anything. You were a new recruit to Task Force 141 and you sure as hell didn't want to be here with all these bloodthirsty veterans.
Eventually, you had settled in. Gotten used to the antics, training, and eventual missions you were sent on. But you hadn't gotten used to Ghost. You sat in the mess hall, picking absentmindedly at your food as Ghost and Soap had a conversation. Ghost's tray sat untouched in front of him while Soap shoveled in heaping forkfuls into his mouth. You watched Ghost as he scoffed, his brown eyes piercing into Soap's blue ones. 
"That's fucking stupid."
Soap shrugged his shoulders. "I don't make the rules."
"I do. And I say if you don't like tea, you're a traitor."
Conversations like this were normal. Ghost and Soap bickered over idiotic topics like siblings. Honestly, for a Lieutenant and a Sergeant, they sure acted mindless. Still, you didn't say anything. It was pretty entertaining in between killing people for a living. So you stared and listened. Mainly at Ghost.
"Oi." Ghost huffed, turning towards you. "You got a problem?"
You perked up. "Me? No. Why?"
"Because you're staring."
You pursed your lips and looked away. Of course you're staring. It was lunchtime and Ghost was just sitting there with food in front of him as if he was going to eat. But he never did. Unless looking at food filled him up, he was just wasting food. Not that you cared but it was just weird. He was weird for wearing a mask all the time. It made him look even more intimidating.
"Yeah."
Soap's face turned from playful to cautious. "Uh.. let's just get back to eating."
"Why do you not take off your mask while you eat?"
Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes. "Why the fuck is it your business?"
"I-I'm just curious."
"Then stop being curious. Mind your own damn business."
Ghost got up and took his tray, storming away. You didn't realize it was a sensitive subject. You slinked back in your seat and continued to pick at your food. Soap let out a sigh and moved to sit next to you. He patted your back, hard, causing you to wince. 
"Don't worry about it, alright? Ghost
 just has some things he's sensitive about."
You groaned and closed your eyes. "I was just curious."
"It's not your fault, kiddo. We've known each other for so long that we all know what to do and not do. You're new, so don't blame yourself."
"Any other rules I should know about?"
Soap gave you a smile. "Let me give you a rundown on Ghost."
It was about as you expected. Five main rules with little tidbits sprinkled in there. Ghost was what everyone thought someone in special forces was: mysterious and gruff. A hardened soldier that had no time for shit. No time for making friends or being happy. Of course, you couldn't blame him. You couldn't even imagine the things he's been through to become a practically emotionless man.
It was late at night. You were restless and needed to tire yourself out to be able to sleep. So you did what you always did: headed to the training room. You expected it to be empty. There weren't usually people up at this hour and normally everyone was asleep. Yet, as you walked into the training room, you saw someone using the bench. You couldn't exactly see his face but decided to speak.
"Looks like someone else can't
 oh."
You trailed off as the man set the bar back and sat up. You hadn't seen this face before. You would have definitely remembered a face like his. Strong jawline, stubble, several tiny scars scattered across his face, and hardened brown eyes. His sandy brown hair fell over his sweaty forehead as he glared at you. It wasn't until he raised his tattooed arm to wipe his face that it registered who it was.
"Ghost?"
"Are you just gonna keep fucking stare at me?"
Your eyes immediately averted from his. Fuck, he was hot. He was so hot. Soap was right. You swallow thickly and walk over to Ghost, your head down. You didn't know what to do in this situation. So you just awkwardly held your water bottle without saying a word. He sighed and pushed it away.
"What are you doing here?"
You mumbled out, "I could ask you the same."
There was a silent warning. 
"I couldn't sleep so I wanted to exercise to wear myself out."
The corner of Ghost's lips quirked up in a smirk. "I can help with that."
You felt your face heat up. Seeing his face for the first time, his smirk that you could've only imagined is when you knew you were fucked. Totally and completely.
Rule #2: Don't call him Simon.
Ok, so maybe you had gotten a little crush. It could be a farce. You only saw his face once, after all. Maybe you had gotten a good look (you had). There was no way you could fall for him with only one look at his face. Besides, you had to worry about the other rules and not breaking them. 
You waltz into Ghost's office without a care in the world. "Hey, Simon. Can you help me with-"
"Stop."
You froze in your spot. Ah. Another rule Soap had mentioned. It completely left your mind. Everyone in the taskforce had their nicknames. You had a couple of your own, though they weren't as cool as some of the ones you've heard in passing. In fact, some of them made you feel small and weak. But you'd never admit that out loud. 
And for some unlucky reason, you decided to not say Simon's
 Ghost's. Maybe it was the fact that you and him spent more time together since that night in the training room. You had become somewhat of workout buddies. So maybe your brain had unconsciously thought that it was time to take the friendship to the next level.
"Uhm, Ghost, I need help with uh
" Your mind went blank. You can just tell from the way he towered over you with his arm crossed that he was not happy.
He stared down at you. "Don't call me Simon."
"I'm sorry."
"With this mask on, I'm Ghost. Don't make the same mistake. Do you understand me?"
You lowered your head like you were a scolded child. "Yes, LT."
He let out a sigh and ruffled your hair. "Alright. What do you need help with?"
Despite Ghost's initial annoyance with you, you had definitely grown on him. There was something refreshing about you. You weren't trigger happy, you paid attention during missions, and you never acted out of line. You were a good soldier. Not as strong as the others, but you worked hard. And Ghost appreciated that. 
Over time, he had stopped correcting you whenever you accidentally called him Simon. He had stopped glaring at you and acting like you were a worthless rookie. You two had grown close. He might even say that you two were friends. But only if he didn't actually think about it. He'd never admit it otherwise.
"Simon!!"
There it was again. He groaned, and yet there was a flicker of light in his eyes. "Do you have to sound so
 happy all the time?"
"Of course."
"God, you're annoying."
"So I'm growing on you?"
"Don't push it."
Rule #3: Don't touch him.
This one should have been obvious. And honestly, you didn't mean to touch him so suddenly. It was a mistake, but it was one that had big consequences. You two had grown closer and so he was much more comfortable around you, but not this comfortable. You were also comfortable enough to the point the rules had all but flown out of your head.
Ghost wasn't a bad guy. At least in the sense that he wasn't an asshole. Like everyone else in the military, he was tired of shit and didn't want to socialize. Understandable. It wasn't like you thought you could break down his walls. You weren't the type of person to go around with the need to "fix" people. You just so happened to get close to him and he just so happened to let you in little by little. And you didn't want to betray that.
Ghost's breathing was heavy as he pinned you against the wall. his forearm was pressed firmly against your throat, eyes wide and almost crazed looking. The mugs you were holding were shattered on the ground, coffee spilled everywhere. You just stared at him in shock.
"Don't ever fucking do that again."
That was walking up beside him and bumping your hips into his side. You had wanted to give him a cup of coffee because you knew it was going to be a long night of paperwork. But before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall. Your heart was practically in your stomach at this point. But all you could think about was how hostile his tone was.
Definitely not doing that again.
Rule #4: Don't ask about his past.
An easy to follow rule. Simple. It was something unsaid in the military. Everyone has their scars, both mental and physical. It's best that most of those are kept secret. The incident from two weeks ago was just an example of that. You didn't blame him. In fact, you ended up apologizing for not being more aware. And it fixed things. Kinda.
Being in the military sucked. Being in the special forces sucked even more. You had thought you were strong. I mean, you were working with one of the best teams in the world. That meant you were strong. And yet
 your mind felt like it was breaking. You couldn't take it anymore. Everything you've witnessed, everything you had to do kept replaying in your mind over and over.
A storm raged outside. You curled up on the couch in the breakroom, a blanket wrapped securely around you. The power had gone out long ago and everyone decided to call it a night. You didn't want to be alone. Everything was so loud. The thunder, the rain, the wind. It filled your ears with an unbearable cacophony. Breathing became hard as you stared off into nothing. Images flitted across your brain, jarring and vivid. It won't stop. Why won't it stop?
"Hey. Look at me."
You were drawn out by a soft, deep voice. And when your eyes focus, you see Ghost kneeling in front of you. He had his balaclava pulled off, revealing his concerned gaze. You didn't know you had even been crying before you let out a sob and covered your face with your hands. Ghost was by your side in an instant. He grasped your wrists lightly and pulled them down.
"Look at me, alright? We're gonna take deep breaths."
You nodded and kept your eyes trained on him. In and out. In and out.
He gave you a rare smile. "There we go. Are you alright?"
Your voice got caught in your throat and you shook your head. "Everything is so
 I can't stop thinking about-"
Simon's arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. "I know. I know."
There was something so comforting about being in his arms. The way it felt like security. Like it was safe.You listened to his heart. Nothing else existed in this moment except for that sound. A steady thump, thump, thump. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath.
"I know it's hard." He murmured. 
"Have you ever had something happen to you and you just
 can't forget it?"
For once, he didn't try to back away. He didn't scold you or get angry. He opened up. "Of course I have. There's some shit I've seen and I just wish I could erase it all."
You leaned into his arms. "How do you deal with it?"
"You don't. At first, you just gotta let it go
 And run its course. Eventually, you'll grow numb to it."
"I don't want to be numb."
Ghost didn't respond. He just pulled you in closer. In that moment, something had changed between the two of you. He wasn't one for giving comfort. And yet he didn't hesitate to make sure you were ok. He didn't care that you had asked him about his past, no matter how vague. For once
 he just let himself feel. 
Rule #5: Don't try to get close to him.
Ghost watched as you sat angrily on the training floor mat. Your arms were crossed and you had a pout on your lips. Yes, you were acting like a child. But you were beyond annoyed at Ghost. For the past couple of weeks he had done nothing but berate you over and over. At first it was your uniform being too messy. Then it was being too slow. And now it was just not being good enough.
He had forced you to train every day. Even after missions. You loved working out with him as much as the next guy, but damn it. He was acting like a god damned drill sergeant in basic training. There was something wrong and your relationship with him went to friendship to something
 bad. He just stared down at you and sighed.
"You done yet?"
"No, I'm not." You stood up. "I am doing perfectly fine. Do you have to nitpick everything?"
"Fine isn't good enough. You need to be perfect."
You let out a frustrated noise. "But why?! My performance during missions is good. No one is complaining, not even Captain Price!"
"Does it look like I give a shit?" Ghost took a step towards you, towering over you. "You're acting like a pathetic child."
"And you're acting like an overbearing asshole."
That was enough to make him snap. He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the training room, away from prying eyes. You silently cursed yourself. You were really in for it now. He was gonna take you in his office and yell at you. And you did not feel like you were in the mood for a lecture. Once you arrived, he shoved you inside and slammed the door behind you.
"Apologize. Now."
"For what?"
"Insubordination and getting on my fucking nerves."
Your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Seriously, LT?! I didn't do anything!"
"You have an attitude."
This was enough. You had enough. "I don't have a fucking attitude! I've been improving every single day but that's not good enough for you! I thought we had gotten close and become friends, but you just started acting like a hard ass! What did I do, huh?! Why am I such a fucking nuisance to you!?"
"Because!" Ghost walked forward until your back was against your desk. "You made me care for you! No matter how fucking annoying you were, you still somehow managed to squeeze your aggravating ass into my mind! Every time you overstepped, you apologized immediately and made sure not to do it again! You cared for me in ways no one would notice! You became a constant in my life and I'm scared I'll lose that. So yes, I'm a hardass! But only because I won't be able to stand it if you suddenly died!"
"I won't die!" You yelled, your hands gripping the edge of his desk. "Of course our work is dangerous, but I trust you and this team! And so what if you started to care for me?! Newsflash Simon, people care about each other! It's normal!"
"What did I fucking say about calling me that?!"
"You didn't seem to complain for the past couple of months, Simon."
"Shut the fuck up! You're so fucking annoying!"
"Make me!"
You had pushed down your feelings for Ghost and told yourself it would never happen. It would be stupid of you to think it would, right? And yet here he was, tugging down his balaclava and trapping you against the desk. His lips smashed against yours, drawing a pained gasp from you. And yet you pushed back with just as much force. Your arms wrapped around him as the kiss softened. His lips felt perfect around yours and he tasted of cherry gatorade. You drank him in, letting the feelings you had grown free. 
The kiss seemed to last forever. It was like Ghost was hungry for your touch, for your love. Not that you complained. He had let you break one of the most important rules of all: Don't try to get close to him. Yet here you were, pressed against him and kissing him like he would disappear.
"You're such a fucking brat." He breathed against your lips. 
You laughed slightly and pulled away. "And yet, you can't let me go."
"No, I can't." His hands moved to your waist and squeezed. "I don't want to let you go."
"I won't leave you, Simon Riley. I promise."
"Please don't break that promise."
241 notes · View notes
ljz002-world · 4 months ago
Text
Revenge, Part 4 NSFW
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SMUT AHEAD
“So? You’ll shoot me?”, Y/N asked and Thomas just shook his head, “I won’t shoot you. I want you to tell me the real reason you cam here. To Birmingham, to Small Heath.” “I told you before Mr. Shelby”, Y/N began, hoping the little shaking in her voice wouldn’t be noticeable, “I cam here from Germany because here is good work, over in Germany I found no work. My mother knew some people here, but they never returned from the war. I didn’t know that until I was here. I read the paper, saw you were in need of a translator and came here. Thought I’d ask about my father while I’m at it. That’s all.” “Really?”, Thomas asked, taking a puff off his cigarette all while holding eye-contact with the girl. “Yes.” “No other reason?” “No other reason.”
“Then how come you look at me all the time? When you think I’m not looking.”
“Why do you think?” “I think, that you’ve fallen for me. You’re translating wrong so that I’ll let you go, so it wouldn’t be unprofessional, right?” Y/N was caught off guard by this. How full off himself was this man? Thinking that she’d fallen in love with him over these past few months. How ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
But this gave her a good option, “Am I that transparent?” “To me, you are.” “And? Now that you know, what now?” “What now?”, Thomas repeated her words calmly while looking at the young woman with sultry eyes, “Now that I know, I was going to tell you that once this meeting is over, I’d take you home, but I’d take you to my place. There we’d have a drink or two, I’d have convinced you to try some alcohol. And then we’d have fucked.” “Do you think I’m that easily convinced?”, Y/N asked as she leant closer to Tommy, her hands now over his larger hands as the two were dangerously close to one another. “I’m a man with great persuasion skills.”
“Well I’m a german, we’re quite thick-headed. Would take a lot of persuading for me to fuck you.” “Is that a challenge?” “Maybe it’s a promise. Depends on what you plan to do to me.”
“Oh I plan to do lots of things to you, love”, Thomas spoke almost softly as one of his hands reached up to cup Y/N’s cheek, pulling her head closer to his until their foreheads were almost touching. “Really?” “Yes. Things no boy has ever done to you.” “Now I’m curious Mr. Shelby
” “Drop the Mr. Shelby thing, keep it for office hours. Out of office, call me Thomas or Tommy.” “As you say
 Tommy
” “Say it again, I like the way my name sounds on your lips.” “Tommy”, Y/N breathed out again before Thomas pulled her in for a surprisingly soft kiss. She had imagined for a man like him to be a lot rougher, a lot less 
 gentle and loving. He kissed her like he loved her, like they were man and wife.
“And? Has any boy ever kissed you like that?”, Tommy asked as the two parted ways, a small thread of saliva hanging from both their lips, still connected. Y/N’s cheeks were a bit flushed as she looked away with a small smile on her lips, maybe she could have some fun with Thomas Shelby before killing him. “I’m still Thomas fucking Shelby, I want an answer”, he said, still soft but harsher than before as he made Y/N look at him, having pulled her chin to face him with his thumb and index finger. Those icy-blue eyes piercing Y/N’s soul as she shook her head, “No
”
“And I can do a lot more than just kiss, love.”
“Oh really?”, Y/N asked, giving Tommy those mischievous eyes that he had grown to like quite a lot. “Really love, so what d you say? My place?” “For drinks? Or?” “For drinks and more.”
With that Thomas took Y/N by the hand as he lead her out of the Garrison and to his house. Inside it was nicer but still not as luxurious as Y/N had expected it to be. It looked like a family-home, which made sense considering that he now lived all alone here, Ada was in London, Poll was in her house, Jon and Esme had their own home and Arthur spent most of his nights at the pub in the upper rooms. “Drinks?”, Y/N asked a bit shyly as she sat by the couch while Thomas had taken his jacket off, exposing his vest and the gun strapped to his side. He had grabbed two glasses before walking to the liquor cabinet. “What do you want?” “Whatever you’ll have.” “So hard whiskey? Brave girl”, Thomas said with a chuckle as he grabbed his favorite whiskey before filling their glasses a bit as he took a seat across the girl on the large armchair that stood there. “Drunk whiskey before?”, Thomas asked as he saw how Y/N was just looking at the copper colored liquid, he had already taken a sip. “I don’t usually drink whiskey. But I have had it before.” “Liked the taste?” “Depends”, the girl said taking a sip while holding eye contact with the man she wanted to kill, well at the moment she wanted to have sex with him and kill him afterwards. “On?” “With whom I drink.”
Tommy actually smiled at that as he put his glass down and approached Y/N, stopping in front of her and tilting her head upwards with one of his free hands, “Tell me, love. Have you ever fucked a man like me before?” “No”, Y/N breathed out, leaning back against the backrest of the couch as the dark haired man leaned down, supporting himself by placing his hands against the top of the backrest as he leant down to kiss Y/N again, an opening she tried to use to grab onto the gun, but both of her wrists were caught easily by Thomas’ larger hand as he held them above her head.
“Trying to steal me gun, eh?”
“Just wanted to hold it. Never held a gun before.” “Well you can ask. Don’t take a man’s gun away, you never know if it’s loaded or not”, Thomas spoke as he pressed his lips against Y/N’s before pulling her up by her wrists as his other hand grabbed her behind, kneading it almost painfully as his dick grew harder and harder each second.
Within seconds the two were in Tommy’s bedroom and most of their clothes discarded. He had hastily undone the button’s of Y/N’s dress, just enough to let it drop to the ground and let her step out of it so he could undo her bra and take off her knickers, pushing her naked body down onto his bed as he undid the rest of his shirt which Y/N had already partially opened, his vest discarded somewhere in the living room. Within seconds Tommy was just as naked as Y/N, the girl gulping at his manhood. She had sex before, yes, but never with someone like Tommy Shelby.
“You don’t got anything, eh?” “No”, the girl muttered as she pulled the man closer to herself before indulging in another kiss. A kiss the man gladly returned as one hand travelled down to her folds, which he parted with his fingers before rubbing his tip teasingly against her opening. Y/N let out a little hiss against Tommy’s mouth, “Stop fucking teasing.” The man just smiled against her lips as he entered the girl, drawing a little scream from the young woman at the sudden intrusion. Thomas watched how his cock entered her, deeper and deeper while Y/N just threw her head back at the sudden pleasure and pain she felt, her eyes rolling back as she clawed at the man’s back, pain he welcomed.
“How much is there?”, she breathed out before Thomas Shelby captured her lips once again, letting her get used to his size before he started moving. Ever time his hips snapped against hers she felt him reaching a spot that made her see stars.
“Fuck”, he breathed out, “When was the last time you had a cock in you? Fucking tight.” “Some time ago”, Y/N answered, trying her best to relax and get used to the sudden pleasure, her hands toying with Tommy’s hair as he slowly but steadily sped up, her back arching as he got quicker and quicker. “Good god”, Y/N called out as she held onto Thomas, feeling a knot forming in her lower belly, “I think
-I think I’m close.” “Good”, Thomas said, keeping his steady pace until he pushed Y/N over the edge, feeling her tightening around him as he felt his own dick start to twitch, leading his thrusts to become sloppier and harder until he grabbed onto Y/N’s hips as his hips snaped against her one more time before he came as well.
Both were trying to catch their breath as Thomas laid down besides Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his chest as he lit himself a cigarette.
“Still want to kill me?”
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Text
Holiday Gift To A Good Friend
@ryuryuryuyurboat
Hey Yukari, think fast chucklenuts!
NOW THEN!!!
I WISH YOU HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! AND A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!!!
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Kaeya has complicated feelings about christmas

He used to celebrate every year with Diluc and da- Mr. Rangdividr.
But now
 well

You can imagine how someone like Kaeya spends his time on the holiday’s when no one else is around.
For all of his pomp, all of his slutitude, Kaeya had very few people he could spend Christmas with.
Jean would be forced off of duty to spend time with her sister and her family, Amber would wrangle Eula, Lisa would join in, the rank and file would be having a party on christmas eve in the mess hall which had been lovingly decorated by everyone, including Klee.
And all of them made him feel like he was out of place, made him feel alone.
Maybe that’s why he was always so down during the month preceding it?
Don’t get it wrong, Kaeya loved christmas, so many happy people, so much joy, so much cheer!
It was impossible for him not to smile!
Nonetheless, he didn’t want to be alone for christmas.
It had been his wish every year since leaving Dawn Winery all those years ago.
And every year, through some miracle, it had been a wish granted.
And it was always the same person who granted that wish of his.
You.
From the first time the two of you met in the roaring snow to this year as the two of you sat cosied up next to the fire, warm cups of your beverages of choice in hand.
And Kaeya, for all his pomp, all his slutitude, could never figure out what to say.
At least until now.
“Hey.” Kaeya called.
“Yeah?” you responded.
Kaeya placed his head on your shoulder before saying.
“I love you.”
Silence pierced the room and Kaeya briefly wondered if he had just ruined it all, wouldn’t be the first time after all.
Then, you placed your head on Kaeya’s and said,
“I love you Kaeya, even if your brain is a handful of ice cubes.”
“Heh, I’ll take it.”
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“Oooh! Oooh! Big Bro! Look! There! That one!” Teucer happily shouted from atop Childe’s shoulders, pointing at the store decorated with lights and with quite a few toy’s in its window.
“Ha! Ha! You got it Teucer!” Childe exclaimed in response.
Childe loved this time he got to spend with his little brother, no matter how rare it was for him to find any.
Though he does have to admit, he’s tempted to buy a few of these toys for himself.
So many interesting models, so many strange new things like a paddle with a string that connects it and a ball.
What could it be used for?
What is its name?
What genius made it?
“Hello there! How can I help you?” a voice asked.
Childe was brought out of his reverie and looked up from the strange object in his hand.
In an instant, he felt a tiny shift in himself.
It was something strange.
He wasn’t fighting so why was his heart picking up?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Childe walked out of the shop, Teucer on his shoulders with a new plush and the strange toy known as a “Paddle Ball” in his hand.
“Big bro, why were you so weird around that nice toy person?” Teucer asked, curious at how strange his elder sibling was acting.
“I
 I am not sure Teucer
” Childe answered half heartedly, mind still on that person.
Why couldn’t Childe keep his mind off of them?
“Hmmm
 this warrants further study.” Childe thought to himself darkly as he began to sing along happily to the songs around himself with Teucer.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
It was a good day at the shop for you.
You sold quite a few toy’s and made a lot of children happy.
Including that strange man

Ajax was his name if memory serves.
To see a grown man’s eyes light up at even the most simplistic of toys and trinkets

What type of life did this man lead?
Still, you doubted you would ever get an answer to that question

Either way, it was time to lock up now!
Then another wonderful day of selling toys!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Childe hit the ball with the paddle as he sat on the bench in the park.
That was the easy part for him.
Hitting it again however, not so much.
This is illustrated by the red rubber ball completely missing the paddle and whacking him straight in the face.
“Ow
” Childe muttered as he rubbed his nose.
Why was this thing so hard to use?
It was not anything special, there wasn’t any trick to it.
Childe just needed practice, that's all.
The orange haired man let out a sigh.
Why was that toy shop owner still on his mind?
Something about you had just
 ensnared him.
Had completely captured his attention.
Even now, he still felt the warmth of your hand when you handed him the toy he held now.
Why in the world was this happening?
And why-
“Oh! Hi mister Ajax!” A voice told Childe, shocking the man somewhat.
It was you.
Oh no
 it was you!
He was starting to feel strange again

His face felt warmer, his heart was beginning to race, he began to notice the smallest things in the world around him!
What were you doing to him?
And why
 Why did he want to kiss you?
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In his time under the protection of the Crux fleet, Kazuha had noticed many things about his Captain.
She was always aware of everything on her ship.
She always knew what everyone on her ship felt like.
She had a strange talent for drinking anyone under the table without getting drunk herself.
She always, without fail, kept to a strangely exact schedule concerning where the ship went.
She had a small, tattered, picture that would always make her smile when she looked at it no matter what.
She always had the ship make port at Liyue Harbor at least two times every year.
She always spent those times in Liyue with someone he had never met.
Kazuha had a few hunches on who that person was to his Captain. All of them made him quite happy for his Captain.
Though he did have to wonder, what did his Captain get that person for their birthday and the holidays?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Beidou held a small black box in her hand as she exited the jeweler.
She then immediately turned into one of Liyue’s few empty alley’s.
The Pirate Queen had never been this terrified in her life.
It’s strange.
She had faced down all kinds of things that could’ve killed her a thousand times over by now.
But this thing in her hands?
It scared her a thousand times more than all of those put together.
Why?
She was deeply in love with you, the fact that she was going to ask you to marry her tonight of all nights should be proof of that.
Yet, she was still scared

Beidou knew what she was scared of, but didn’t dare voice it in her thoughts.
She couldn’t.
If she did
 she might not go through with this.
And she had to go through with this.
She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you after all.
And Beidou always got what she desired.
It was in her job description as a pirate.
So she was going to do this.
She was going to do this.
She was going to do this!
SHE WAS GOING TO DO THIS!!!
“I. WILL. DO. THIS.” Beidou exclaimed loudly to herself, hyping herself up for what she was about to do.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
That night, the crew of the Crux was given a very special surprise when their captain returned for the holiday party.
Their captain, a ring on her finger and holding her spouse close.
That night, a great many members of the crew lost a great amount of Mora.
Mora, which all ended up in Kazuha’s hands.
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The woman in blue rushed around like the entire world was burning down around her.
This would not be a
 overly dramatic statement of Furina’s current predicament.
Furina had tried to cook you something special for the holidays.
It, unsurprisingly, did not go well.
The drapes were charred and soaked, several dozen plates were smashed on the floor, the food she had tried to create seemed to have gained sentience and was now eating the pot it was born in.
In summary, Furina failed miserably at everything she had tried to do in cooking you some food outside of Macaroni And Cheese.
She wished she could say she was surprised at this.
She wasn’t though.
Oh by Celestia how was she going to fix this by the time you got back?
“Unless
” your all too loveable scamp of a wife muttered.
A devious plan hatched in Furina’s mind.
“Heh, heh, heh, I think it is time to show you off!” your wife said with a sinister chuckle.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
You were definitely not expecting this to be how everyone found out who your wife was.
Yes, your wife just so happened to be Furina.
It's nothing worth all the uproar being caused by everyone you know.
She was just like everyone else.
Well, not really.
She is hopeless as a cook unless it has to do with Macaroni And Cheese.
You got the feeling that this sudden desire to show you off on the holidays had something to do with that.
Still, you weren’t going to waste any time you could spend with Furina.
Not to mention, you had a gift to give her.
And now that she was showing you off?
It was the perfect time to give her something more permanent than the two strange rings of Macaroni And Cheese she initially proposed to you with in the heat of the moment while making said dish.
Still, the true rings would be put on display.
These were just to ensure that nothing broke those precious things.
You don’t think Furina would be able to forgive herself if hers broke.
She was like that with you.
And you loved her for it.
Also, why did Furina smell like burned food?
The pit in your stomach continued to grow.
You got the feeling she had ulterior motives for having you out like this.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
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ourgreatergood · 5 months ago
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Okay, I finished @humlesnurr’s prompt, yay! It’s not very good, but at least I’m getting back into writing, so thank you so much! (Still working on the other prompts as well.)
I believe you had something happier in mind, but you know, they’re still idiots - hope you have fun anyway! <3
Prompt was: Gellert responding differently to the "Because I was in love with you" at that date <3
Fate
Would this be one of your regular haunts?
Only Gellert could have the unbearable charming confidence to open the first meeting in decades like that. It was curious, really, that Albus did not mind. He did not mind at all. In fact, if he was completely honest with himself, the feeling that surfaced in his chest at Gellert’s flippant opening line could only be adoration. How did he manage to make him smile so easily when nothing in the world was easy right now?
The blood troth moved around his hand in recognition, content to have them both in such proximity.
Warm.
That would have to be his answer. It felt warm around his neck, like the blood contained within it. It felt comforting. Alive. Terribly so.
But he could not grant Gellert an answer, too great was the risk that he would use it to try and sway him. And despite everything he wasn’t sure that his stance was firm enough to resist. Maybe Gellert knew and that was why he did not even dignify his proposal of freeing each other with an answer.
“What you are doing is madness.”
And how could he not see that? It was not what they had said they’d do. It was never how he had imagined it. He could not imagine that Gellert had meant this all along when they had talked endlessly in warm summer nights about a world that was better than the one they lived in. Or perhaps it was him who was remembering it wrong? Was his memory and conscience playing tricks on him?
“I was young. I was -“
“- committed. To me. To us.”
He almost had to laugh. Committed. It made it seem like a business, the troth like a contract - when it had been so much more than that. He was never confident around Gellert anymore but he still knew him, at least he thought he did. At least a small part of him. And he saw that Gellert wanted this to be a strategic meeting. His turn in a game of chess.
He saw that Gellert wanted him to see reason as much as the other way around, too. It could never be merely game or business between them.
“No. I went along because -“
Somehow saying it was not as easy as it had once been.
“Because?”
“Because I was in love with you.”
For a moment he managed to hold Gellert’s piercing gaze until it becomes unbearable. How could it sound so simple? As if their relationship wasn’t the single most difficult thing in his life.
“And I was in love with you. Yet here we are. I am doing what we said we’d do. It was you who said we could reshape the world, that it was our birthright.”
“But not like this. This was never what I wanted.”
Gellert chuckled. A mixture of cold fury and fond amusement. “It is very much like you to want to break our vow and tell me what to do.”
“If you did what I wanted you to do I would never ask you to break the pact.”
“Tell me, what do you want me to do, Albus?”
He swallowed. “I want you to stop riling up the masses. Stop causing so many deaths. Stop starting a war. Stop and -,” his voice broke and became quiet. “Gellert, if you were ever in love with me then you know perfectly well what I imagined - what we planned.”
Gellert studied him for a long time and it took and it took everything in him to hold his gaze. When Gellert spoke next his voice was low and heavy.
“If you remembered, Albus, who proposed the pact you would not say such a thing. Do you remember?”
Naturally, he did.
The water was running steadily down the stream on the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow. It glistened crystal in the summer sun and trickled along the riverbank, the colorful meadow and the old willow tree. It was their favorite spot - where the mill, the stream and the willow met on the seam between village and forest.
They met right before dusk could take over, while it was still so warm that Albus had opened his waistcoat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and Gellert had discarded any regard for clothing customs and had shed all but his trousers and half-buttoned shirt. He had his feet dangling in the cool stream, his head cushioned on his arms, his pretty face calm and content in a way it rarely ever was.
Albus could imagine him like this by the pillars of Hercules, on the bank of the Skamandros, on a ship on the Nile.
Gellert had the gift of sight but whenever Albus imagined his future, he could only see Gellert by his side as certainly as if Fate herself had placed him there.
He ran his fingertips along Gellert’s exposed collarbones and smiled at him, when he opened his eyes at the touch.
Gellert returned his smile. He reached up and gently twirled a strand of Albus’s hair around his finger, holding it up against the sun, eyeing it intently.
“Sit up,” he said, suddenly and sit up they did.
“Are you all right?” Albus asked, when Gellert took his hands almost solemnly.
“Yes. Listen, I’ve been thinking - “ He took a deep breath. Albus frowned. Gellert was a master of words, he didn’t stumble upon sentences like this very often. “I’ve told you about my visions, I know that it is not always going be easy. A revolution will take time and sacrifice and I know I can only do it with you by my side.”
Albus’s heart fluttered and he squeezed his hands. “It is you, who makes me feel free, my dear. We are the most powerful wizards on this earth, we can do anything when we’re together.”
“Anything but live openly - for now, at least.”
“Not forever.”
“No. I know that you are my only equal, Albus, my twin soul, my better half. I know that I will spend my life with you. I know this bond and I know no spell and no ridiculous law could ever alter it but I want to swear it to you, anyway.” When their eyes met there was a glimmer in Gellert’s that somehow was both determined and insecure. “I want my blood to know yours, I want to have my magic woven with yours, I want Fate to know that it is us.”
“Gellert
?”
“There are many oaths they won’t let us take, but as you said, we can do anything. Please, would you make a blood pact with me?”
Albus’s face slowly spread into a ridiculous grin. His insides were melting and he doubted his body would be able to hold all the incredible beautiful feelings Gellert’s words had placed there. He wanted to scream with happiness, speak it into the universe itself, devour Gellert on the spot - but he merely found himself nodding.
“Yes. Of course, yes!” Laughter bubbled up inside of him, because Merlin, did Gellert really think for one second that he could refuse, when he could imagine nothing more perfect than seal their bond with magic.
“I do,” he said, “where did all that go?” His own voice was barely above a whisper now.
Gellert shook his head ever so slightly. “You tell me, Albus. You tell me.”
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Note
Hello!
I was thinking about the Monster!AU and I'm now wondering about how the residents of NRC would react to how differently Yuu is anatomically.
And what I mean by that is like how most of the students have hoofs. A smaller comparison are ears.
I like to imagine them speculating that Yuu just didn't have ears and just understood what they were saying somehow or that Yuu had holes for ears like parrots do until they pushed our hair out of the way and revealed that they did have ears, they were just out of sight. I can also imagine them wondering why Yuu's ears looked like that.
And for the hoofs part, I can also see them wondering why Yuu wears pants and shoes. Because while I do think that they wear clothers on their upper half, I don't think the monsters in this twst au wear pants or shoes, so I think they'd be confused. I imagine some of them being confused about human feet, too. Toes may be a weird thing to them, too. Or at least the type that humans have since I saw that Jade's concept design has toes.
I just have a bunch of things circulating in my head around this au. Whenever I get reminded of it, I keep on thinking of misinformation that could have spread among the years or completely forgotten about that humans have been extinct, and these are just two of the ideas that have popped into my head. Your au is haunting me in the worst and best way possible.
Oooh yes yes yes yessssss, I love this sort of musing! It gives me life and inspires lil’ ideas in me~! ovo/ Muahahaha, I love that the Monster!AU is giving people ideas, because I love seeing the little shenanigans and randomness that can appear! c:<
Depending on the Yuu’s hair style (or lack of hair style if they have no hair), human ears would definitely be one of those curiously confusing aspects that may have monster students and researchers alike poking and pulling on them (though they do apologize if they pull too hard since ears are sensitive). In some cases, they might wonder if humans alter the shapes of their ears so they appear more rounded and cute before they find out that, no, this is how human ears naturally look.
Imagine their horror the moment they realize some humans actually pierce various parts of their body with metal! Sure, they may pierce their own ears (Kalim being one example), but piercing your nose? Bellybutton?! Tongue?!? “Why are humans so weird with decorative metal pieces all over their body!? Doesn’t that hurt?!” 
Don’t worry, they get over it and get curious and fascinated by the style! 0v0/)
(No but seriously, there are some really gorgeous styles for piercings that can look really cool, I just get squeamish at the thought of having anything but my earlobes pierced for small studs, let alone getting a plug/tunnel or even tattoos for myself. 😅 If it’s your thing, then just make sure to keep the areas clean so they don’t get infected and you can continue looking and feeling amazing, you beautiful person! UvU)
You're right in that they do still wear clothes (I know the concept art doesn’t seem like it, but that’s because I don’t feel like dealing with clothing on that small a scale when I’m trying to figure out how to make their anatomy work), but they do in fact wear pants! Well, except Deuce, given how his body works, so it’s a case by case basis and choice. 😆 So, the fact that Yuu is wearing pants wouldn’t seem that unusual. Their shoes, however

Like you said, most of the monsters have hooves and can wear horseshoes to make sure they have good traction wherever they go (they can be either metal or specialized rubber that mimics the soles of our own shoes and boots). Those who don’t have hooves though can easily adapt to different surfaces and can build up a tolerance for hot or cold (though that doesn’t mean it’s any less unpleasant during those times), but they’re certainly able to tolerate it better than we humans could, so the concept of shoes never really came to light and it was assumed that all humans had weirdly shaped hooves.
You can probably imagine how the students reacted the moment they realized that those “hooves” weren’t hooves at all.
//
Deuce: “Are you okay, Yuu? Coach was worried you were about to pass out.”
Yuu: *finished with running laps and collapsed under the shade of a tree to cool down* “Ugh
it’s so hot today.”
Ace: “Yeah, it is pretty hot.” *using his wings to generate a breeze to cool them down*
Yuu: “How come you’re not overheating?”
Ace: “Hm? Well that’s easy. Skvader’s and other rabbit-like monsters cool down with our ears. When the wind passes through them, it helps cool us down easier. We don’t really sweat like Deuce or any other species.”
Deuce: “How do humans keep cool?”
Ace: “Well, considering that Yuu’s sweating up a storm, I think they cool down the same way as centaur do.”
Yuu: “Well yeah
though we also cool down through our feet.” *realization sinks in as they sit up* “Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me, I need to take my shoes off.”
Ace: “Shoes? What are those?”
Deuce: “How are you bending your leg like that, Yu-AAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!”
Ace: “AAAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!”
Yuu: *holding shoe in one hand* “Why are you two screaming?!”
Ace and Deuce: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!”
Riddle: *rushing over in a panic* “What’s wrong? Why are you-?” *sees Yuu holding their shoe in one hand* “AAAAAAAAA!!!! Yuu!! Your hoof!!!”
Yuu: “My what!? Why is everyone screaming?!”
Vargas: “What is going on here?!”
Yuu: “I have no idea! They just started screaming!”
Deuce: “Yuu! You literally just ripped your hoof off your leg!! We need to get you to the doctor before you bleed out!!!”
Yuu: *realizes what’s going on now* “Deuce, I’m fine! I’m not bleeding, see? It’s just my shoe! You guys can stop screaming now!”
Ace: “What the heck is a shoe!?”
Yuu: “It’s a cover we humans wear on our feet to protect them from getting hurt of gravel, glass, or other things that can injure us.” *pulls off sock and wiggles toes* “See? This is what a human foot looks like.” *notices Deuce and Riddle swaying, looking pale as a ghost* “Uh
guys?”
Thud! WHUD!!
Yuu: “Riddle!? Deuce!! Are you okay?!”
Ace: “I
I think they’re still processing the fact that you didn’t just dismember yourself in front of them.” *lays down* “I need a moment
”
//

yeah, it went about as well as the grape incident. 😂 It took some explanation before those with hooves (like Riddle and Deuce) to recover from the shock of thinking Yuu had hurt themselves and get used to the sight of them without their shoes on when they’re relaxing or cooling down. It’s a simple yet powerful reminder to them that Yuu is literally from an extinct species that they know so little about.
Of course, the researchers (once they realized what was going on with the shoes) instantly became curious and studied how versatile humans could be. You know how sometimes when you’re carrying an armful of something or even just drop something lightweight, and instead of trying to bend down to get it you just grab the item with your foot and twist your leg to grab it easier? (Don’t deny it, I know you do this too fellow reader!) As “lazy” as it may seem, it’s still fascinating how our bodies are able to move in ways that may seem physically impossible or difficult to do in any other species outside of primates!
And I just imagined a scene similar to the one in Tarzan where he was trying to figure out what Jane was and accidentally tickled her, so imagine that happening and the monster in question accidentally getting kicked in the face because Yuu was overly ticklish đŸ€Ł
That’s all I’ve got for now, so I hope you enjoy! If anyone has any other ideas they wanna share, hit me up! ÒvÓ
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago
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I absolutely adored your Twst swim suit thing, and it had another level for me because I have my nipples pierced and wear jewelry that tend to be obvious under swimsuits, so I just know those desperate little yandere would go feral
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Piercings at the Pool | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Oh, they would at least eventually. Some will not so subtly look at the pronounced lumps in your bathing suit and wonder what it is. They’re thinking themselves into a corner or they're just straight up asking.
The Ones Who Know, smirk at the sight and let their fantasies run wild with thoughts of sucking on them, squeezing, tugging, biting. And relishing in the imaginary moans you’ll make if they had their way. Some of which will most definitely be making that real.
“Mmm, it's a shame I can only see a basic outline from the bathing suit. Hows about we change that for a clear view?”
Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Ruggie Bucci, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Idia Shroud, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Lilia Vanrouge
The Ones Who Eventually See The Light, first look on in curiosity. Why are they shaped like that? Is that normal? Eventually, it kills them and they just ask. Slowly incurring a blush as you begin to explain where and what piercings you have. They now have something else to fawn over and imagine. Depending on how bold they’re feeling, they might act out their fantasies. 
"Ah, I get it now! But I have one last question: can I feel how it feels?"
Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt
The Ones Who Stir in Ignorance, are genuinely curious. The idea of you having piercings and just that being a thing doesn’t cross their minds. They desperately want to know that is if they even notice the difference in their excitement but they think it impolite to ask. So instead they fawn from afar. Or rather he’ll figure it out in his own time
"(Y/n) looks so cute in their bathing suit! I'd like to take it off!"
Deuce Spade, Kalim Al Asim, Idia Shroud, Silver
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stilemawillow · 7 months ago
Text
Unbeneficial [Levi | Reader | Modern AU!]
i - the benefits of you | ii - unbeneficial
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Most people you knew would much rather never step in your shoes in terms of location. You lived in a big city and the school you attented was only reached by catching a single bus at exactly 7:15 every morning. Your home wasn't even in the suburbs, your neighbourhood was just that vacant. So every school day, you got up at 6 a.m. and left for the bus stop at 7 a.m. It was a tradition now. The same bus, the same seat, the same passengers, the same cigarette butts on the same side of the pavement. Boring but fascinating in a way, how the tedium of habits persisted. Some people's schedules were like clockwork and yours was one of them.
Then arrived the abnormality differing from the usual picture you'd gotten used to. He stood by the bus stop sign, stoic and taut. His habits were easily noticeable. Always holding his suitcase in his right hand, so he could easily lift the left one to check the time on his expensive watch. Never stuffing it in the pocket of his dress pants because they would crease, and fixing his plain tie every five or so minutes. Never observed his surroundings. The only thing his austere eyes were looking forward to seeing (with questionable zest, if any at all) was the bus that would drive him to work and you - to school.
It took you a week to figure out his strict routine and now you were just eyeing him with unhidden curiosity - something he seemed to notice but never openly acknowledge. That was until the second week, when he finally got annoyed with your persistent stare. A single glare from eyes such as his was enough to make your body turn at a hundred and eighty degrees as you nervously clenched in your clammy fist your bland uniform skirt.
By the third week he'd stopped glaring, maturely having concluded you'd keep spying on him - albeit less blatantly. And you did. Arriving at the bus stop had never been as exciting as it was when he was around, with his broad shoulders and variety of plain ties.
At times he would show up with a cup of tea in hand. You blinked at him like an overly curious child - which at the time you might've been - uncaring of what any other woman would've noticed and focusing on the funny details about his conduct and appearance. You didn't see the attractive features or the sculpured body under the suit - you saw the amusing sour expression that made his lips seem comically thin when he frowned at his watch and the interesting scar on his earlobe that, after a lot of pondering, was deemed a result of a piercing during a rebellious period that never healed properly.
On the topic of rebellious periods and piercings, you couldn't help but wonder how old he was. You stood five feet from him, nudging the cigarette butts around with the tip of your left shoe and intensely staring at the ground. He was obviously one of those pricks who worked at a famous company, so he didn't exactly need experience if he had connections. Which meant the possibility of him being twenty was as plausible as the one stating he was thirty. You'd never give him thirty, though. Looking closely, the only thing hinting at whatever age after twenty was the crease between his thin brows and the look in his eyes - knowing but dull, having experienced things a young adult was yet to encounter. So how old was he?
The tea and the stiffness said grandpa. The face said a teenager punk. The suit and watch said responsible, thirty-year-old adult. Then, having considered the many possibilities, you built his backstory in your mind and smiled incredulously at your own imagination. Not even a professional writer would manage to weave a resume so realistic.
His name was Bernard Lewis (because it had to suit his British pale complexion) and he was a twenty-one-year-old college student. He'd grown up in a big city a long way from here but had recently moved due to the internship his father had forced on him. As a compliant son, Bernard had gotten rid of his old earring from the time he'd been in a band in high school and taken his grandfather's favourite watch, moving into his new abode. Imagine his disappointment when he'd been refused a car and forced to take the bus every morning. His plain ties were presents from his mother and he got a new one every Christmas. Last but not least, his constant frown was caused by his seperation from his girlfriend, Crissie, just when his best friend Dylan had started giving her a suspicious number of rides all over the city too. Little additions were that he was trying to quit smoking and most suits he wore were actually his father's - cue his nitpicky behaviour in attempts to keep them neat.
Bernard's character was perfected by the end of the fourth week, which coincidentally turned out to be the week when your first interaction took place. On a very fateful Thursday, Bernard was holding his usual cup of tea and you were kicking around the cigarette butts when a middle-aged lady with a bit too much lipstick collided with the ebony-haired male's back, resulting in some scalding spillage and a very vindictive curse on his side. The deep timbre with the husky edge wasn't how you'd imagined his voice, but you had no time to ponder that because he was about to do a lot of damage to the rude lady if somebody didn't intervene.
Putting a fragile hand to his stained cuff, you saw his snarl turn in your direction with a feral glare that had the ability to cut. Your shoulders shrank a size but you handed him your handkerchief with a shy smile and a silent plea not to attack the lady, which he very reluctantly complied with. Slender fingers dripping with tea brushed against yours as he took the handkerchief and muttered a curt word of gratitude. You just stood there, smiling at his face from up close and relishing the sound of his voice. It suited his eyes, that timbre. He stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket, saying he'd return it the next day after he washed it. You nodded, about to ask his name (you were begging all the Gods above for it to not be Bernard because it no longer suited his voice) when the bus arrived and you had to get in.
Stopping yourself from annoying him further by sitting next to him, you occupied your usual seat and quietly bounced up and down in fervent wait for tomorrow. How easily stirred the teenage female heart was.
The anticipated Friday arrived and you set out to walk to the bus stop earlier, seeing as Bernard was always there before you, which would now give you more time to muster the courage to ask his name. He was waiting by the sign already, watching you hastily glide down your skirt and fix your hair as you smiled at him. He pulled the clean handkerchief from his pocket - folded and pristine, making a bashful pink tint your cheeks as you took it and questioned the state of his skin. He brushed your consideration off with a scoff, but you didn't give up, eyeing him with a curious look that you'd later learn had been way too penetrating to be ignored.
You were hardly conversing but you were attempting to make it work, longing to hear more of his voice and thus forgetting your initial goal of obtaining knowledge of his name. The bus arrived at exactly 7:15 and you got on, deciding to stand by the ebony-haired male with the expensive watch as he furrowed his brows at the vehicle's doors. You muttered a small 'bye' as he stepped forth when his stop arrived and he graced you with a cold glance and the most diminutive nod he could've given. You took it with a big smile and a kind of nervousness that left your skirt creased due to too much fidgety clenching. You were looking forward to the following Monday with excitement you'd never felt up until now.
And when it came, he wasn't there. He wasn't by the bus stop sign, holding his steaming cup of tea in his left hand and his suitcase in the right one. He wasn't making a funny expression that showed his cutely scrunched-up nose at the expensive watch on his wrist and he wasn't glaring at you as you childishly spied on him out of the corner of your eye, thinking yourself sly. You'd just decided today would be the day you learned his name and now he wasn't there, leaving you weirdly disappointed and pouty. You kicked the cigarette butts around until the bus came and you got on, taking your usual seat with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
A little pinch of hope had clung to the edge of your mind so you ran to the bus stop the next day, expecting him to be back. He wasn't.
A week passed like that. You decided it was futile to wait for him, so you just went on with your life. It wasn't like you liked him or anything. Not his deep voice or his cute nose. Or the far from scary scowl that had the ability to make you smile even when you were tired and moody, just because you admired his energy to frown that early into the morning. You hadn't grown attached to the slender fingers stiffly fixing his plain ties or the satisfied hum at the back of his throat when he drank from his tea. You had no interest in learning his name or age, or everything else he could tell you. No interest whatsoever in him. He was a random man who only glared at you and washed your handkerchief once. Nothing big, even for an inexperienced high school girl.
Almost two weeks after his disappearance, you were running to the bus stop after the first time you'd overslept. Your chances of reaching it in time were slim, but there. You just had to run as fast as the wind, which would result in your underwear totally showing from under the boring uniform skirt you wore. So risk somebody seeing your pink undies or risk being late for school? The choice wasn't exactly easy for a goodie-two-shoes like you, but you at least had the decency to admit your attendance mattered a bit less than your dignity. So you ran as fast as your skirt allowed, watching the bus take the lead a block away. Your eyes widened in horror as you sprinted but your breaths were ragged and your lungs felt like balloons about to pop. You tripped, trying to find the voice to call out to the driver, but all that came out was a pathetic croak.
The bus was taking off and so was your hope. Your pace slowed and your calves protested even when you walked, finding it hard to balance your breathing. You were leaning on the bus stop sign when a car pulled up in front of you and the door opened, vouchsafing your eyes a sight that made them widen in visible shock. The ebony-haired male invited you in with a sigh, explaining that he'd understand if you refused his offer to drive you to school but would very much appreciate a quick decision on your part since he had somewhere to be too. You got over your shock with a hasty nod and jumped in the front seat prior to closing the door and profusely thanking your stoic savior after telling him the address of your school.
The radio in the clearly expensive car was playing an old song you remembered from your childhood and your heart was now beating fast not only because of all the running you'd done. You were stupid for getting in his car - who knew what he would do? This was exactly what your mother had spent years teaching you not to do and yet here you were. Amazingly dumb of you, getting into a stranger's car. And why? Because you'd missed his cute nose and non-scary frown? Not a good enough reason for when you'd try explaining why you'd been assaulted on your way to school. Two sides of a coin were fighting inside you - a protective one and a defensive one.
You felt ashamed for thinking so badly of somebody who might've just wanted to help you but then again - how many high school girls had been kidnapped and killed this exact way? Because they'd been naive and their abductor was attractive? A lot, but this wasn't the case because the ebony-haired male wasn't a bad person, he was only more or less returning a favour. Why did he suddenly have a car now though? Why had he been on the bus for a whole month only to suddenly show up with an expensive car when you most needed transport?
You shook your head with an inward scowl, deciding to distract yourself by apologising for the inconvenience, to which your savior/possible abductor scoffed and noted it wasn't a big deal since his workplace was close to your school. Upon being asked of his profession, the pale man took a small card from his pocket and handed it to you without even glancing in your direction. You took it from his slender fingers, then observed them fix his black tie and grip the steering wheel. Your hues eyed the card. A strange name sat at the top, next to the name of a pretty famous bank that had a branch in the big office building that could be seen from your school's rooftop. A work phone number and an email address were lined under a strict greyscale pattern and above it - the words 'branch manager' in a somber font that made your lips purse.
Your eyes widened in realisation and you looked back and forth between the card and the stoic man who had handed it to you until he shot you an impatient glare.
"What?" Annoyed with the stare, certainly. You couldn't find the words to answer. Was it a shock that you'd seen his name already? In those boring magazines your father loved buying and reading just to pass the time while getting drunk? Was it a shock he was currently driving you to school when he was famous enough to be written into a whole-ass magazine? Or was it a shock than he wasn't a sixty-year-old grandpa with dyed hair and a silly pair of glasses like his name had first made you think? All three together maybe formed the perfect explanation you'd have a hard time articulating properly.
"I'm sorry for the discomfort I'm causing," you began bashfully. "Also thank you, again, for this." There was a beat of silence. Then, at last, you blurted out: "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), by the way. Since, um, I learned yours, I think it's only appropriate to give mine." It wasn't a dignified introduction, merely the most you could muster in such an awkward moment.
He didn't speak for the next five minutes and you only watched the card in your hold with silent admiration and wonder. Levi Ackerman. Sounded times better than Bernard Lewis. First correction to your imaginary story. Branch manager of a bank office instead of an intern. Second correction. Not twenty-one then. Third correction. Your lips pursed in thought. The expensive watch was probably bought with his own money, so fourth correction. You only crossed your fingers for him to have not been picking and buying the ties he wore - it was really the only feature of your story you wanted to have been true.
Questions that would further jeopardise your fantasy's credibility were impossible to ask. Was a girlfriend (actually maybe wife) present in his life? Did his mother buy his ties? Had his father forced him into the business? Was he trying to quit smoking and had he ever been in a band in high school? No, no. Impossible and improper. Actually, fuck improper - it was straight-up rude and the most insolent thing you could do when he was literally wasting his time driving you to school in his very expensive car. Noticing your inward panic as it had obviously written itself on your features, the male glanced at you and stiffly questioned your lateness as to offer a distraction.
You spent a minute ranting about your alarm clock and disappointment when he stopped in front of the school building and looked at you expectantly. You thanked him once more, this time very quietly and with a downcast gaze. You asked him why he'd been taking the bus when he had a car and he clicked his tongue, promptly pointing out you were being impudent prior to snorting in amusement at your shamefaced expression and quickly explaining a friend had borrowed his car for awhile and then crashed it, making him wait an additional two weeks for it to be repaired. You turned to him in surprise and he shooed you off once noticing the hint of a smile at the corner of your mouth. You got out of the car but had a hard time closing the door. You had to say something that wasn't a 'thank you' or a stupid question.
"You have a nice name," you stated with a smile, too fazed to realise the filter between your brain and mouth had disconnected and you were in the process of embarrassing yourself major time. "It suits your voice way better."
"Than what?" A single quirked brow and the non-scary frown was gone. His stoic gaze spoke of mild confusion you happily cleared out with your next words.
"The one I gave you." His brows twitched, in amusement or discomfort you didn't know, and then you became aware of the things you were saying. Your eyes widened in horror and you slammed the car door shut when you saw his lips part. Not waiting for the branch manager to call you mental, you ran for the school building faster than you'd run for the bus less than an hour earlier. Levi Ackerman, you were sure, would never drive past your bus stop again. Even more, he'd probably try to avoid it at all cost. Or so you thought for the remainder of the school day before you walked out only to see a very familiar expensive car outside.
"I get off earlier on Fridays. Now I'd like to learn about the name you've given me." It was what he greeted you with, as all passing students stared at your fidgety figure next to the slick surface of the car he was leaning on. You cracked an awkward smile whilst trying to excuse yourself but when he offered you a ride and a free cup of coffee your lips pursed in great emotional pain as your dry throat called for the caffeine and your heart called for the sound of the ebony-haired male's voice. You agreed after a whole two minutes of thought, getting in the front seat under the multiplying gazes of curious peers and bystanders. This was last thing in the world you were supposed to be doing. Or was it?
You liked Levi's company and though it would take you awhile to get used to the fact he was way different a person than what you'd imagined, there was nothing wrong in just talking to him - right? Yes, he might've been rich and not exactly your age, and you admitted you knew zero facts about his personality but he didn't look like somebody who always had an ulterior motive at the ready whenever he drove school girls to class so they wouldn't be late. So you ignored the stares and you ushered him to drive, sensing as your whole face had started heating up due to the excessive amount of attention.
You found the bravery to question your intented destination, to which the branch manager snorted prior to stating he'd be dropping you off at the bus stop. No romantic detours such as you might've imagined. His crude words made your lips pout in displeasure as you opened your mouth to respond and then remembered he was the adult in the situation and you were taught to never speak back to adults. The grey-eyed male noticed your determination waver and turn into uncertainty, and he did something no adult had ever done in your life. He encouraged your argument. Telling you to defend yourself if you considered his words unjust, the ebony-haired male turned the wheel and the car followed, with your speechless self in it.
It took you thirty seconds to finally voice your retort. Then the next ten minutes you spent arguing in a half-joking, half-serious tone you could call neither friendly nor hostile. You were getting to know his opinions on certain things, some of which included the suspicious aspect of an acquaintance like yours from a third point of view and his reluctance to be dragged into any kind of public drama. In actual fact, he'd been reluctant to offer you a ride that morning, seeing as it would be deemed extremely improper. Then it came - the moment you dropped your guard and asked him how old he was since he was speaking of everything as if it would be illegal.
A weird look was thrown your way. Then a pair of thin lips uttered the vital piece of information you'd come to accept and him - hate. Twenty-six didn't sound old in perspective but became inappropriately ancient the moment it was positioned in a small car space shared with a fifteen-year-old girl. You stared at the road ahead prior to gifting his stoic profile a bright smile and a compliment stating he looked way younger. On the topic of which, as he was quickly reminded:
"What is this name you've given me now?" Levi's grey eyes shot you a brief glance, then focused back on the street signs outside. You clasped your hands together and began nervously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling like your temples would soon start sweating buckets.
"... Bernard," you admitted after a minute-long pause, making the man next to you scrunch up his nose at the car's interior. You avoided looking at the tip of it twitching because you might just start swooning. Such a stoic man didn't deserve a nose so cute.
"Too tacky for me. Who even has that kind of lame-ass name anyway? His mother must hate him." His comments were too out of character for somebody you considered a responsible adult but you weren't allowed to laugh - it would seem as if you were making fun of him. Yet you burst out laughing right then and there, cackling til your stomach hurt and he was looking at you weirdly. You wiped at the still tears at the corners of your eyes with a shit-eating grin, then explained:
"I'm not laughing at you."
"I don't really care about that - you just seem to be having an unusual amount of fun when you're stuck with somebody this boring."
"Boring?" You echoed, blinking in innocent confusion and making him click his tongue in exasperation. You spent the rest of the ride to the bus stop arguing whether he was boring or not, and then - out of nowhere, you heard yourself blurting out an invitation for a cup of tea. He locked eyes with you and felt obliged to refuse as strictly as he could. Then you were making doe-eyes at him and pleading. You promised it wouldn't take long and you'd never interact with him after that - though inwardly you longed for the opposite. He kept saying 'no' over and over again, then you were at the bus stop and he was ushering you out of the car. This had been merely a favour on his part and he didn't wish for it to become anything more.
Then you asked - in the most hopeful voice you'd heard out of your own mouth - if he would be willing to use the bus just once more on Monday. He furrowed his brows at you and said one last 'no' prior to shutting the car door and driving off. You were sulking all the way to home. Your father was fast asleep on the couch and your mother had left you a note stating she would be out with collagues because of her incoming business trip. You went in your room and just... sat, thinking. Thinking and thinking. 26 wasn't a big number. 15 was just smaller. And what about it? His body was also bigger than yours, it was normal for his age to have been too. His hands were bigger than yours and so was his experience on the topic of the world. There was nothing particularly inappropriate about that.
But then again he might've been married or dating somebody. Such weird offers out of the mouth of an underage school girl had to have been terribly repulsive. So you settled with the thought of not seeing him again, if nothing else you'd be coming across his name in magazines. Maybe it would no longer bring the image of a sixty-year-old grandpa with dyed hair and silly glasses to the surface of your mind. Maybe it would make you picture the slender fingers fixing a plain tie as their owner glared at you with a beautiful pair of grey hues and a cutely scrunched up nose. Maybe he'd be holding a suitcase in his right hand.
You made preparations for Monday anyway, because you were a fifteen-year-old that had a proclivity to be too hopeful and optimistic sometimes. Because you were taught to always be prepared, always see things in a positive light. There was nothing positive about the 'no' your question had been answered with but you went ahead hoping for the best in spite of it. You made a cup of peppermint tea and added just a little bit of honey, because such a bitter person couldn't possibly like excessive sweetness, then you headed out, humming and holding the steaming beverage in your left hand. You arrived at the bus stop around the usual time and he was standing by the sign like a mirage, stiff and taut, holding his suitcase in his right hand and eyeing the watch on the left with furrowed brows.
At first you walked closer than you usually would just to check if he was real or not. Then he looked into your eyes and you froze, enveloped by the scent of tea and suddenly so very uncharacteristically happy it was worrying. Your heart was beating fast as you handed him the cup and asked if he liked peppermint, and when he told you the process of offering somebody something went backwards you just laughed, forcing him to take the cup with a shake of his head. You didn't question his change of heart and he certainly wasn't one to address it of his own accord, which you were perfectly fine with. You spoke of the weather and his work, and he nonchalantly shared as little as he could whilst satisfying your curiosity as best as possible.
They were all trivial topics that would under no circumstances hint at the imminent relationship that was to form. Who of the two was to think you'd be, in only three years, sitting on the couch in his apartment, arguing about your relationship prior to kissing like the world was coming to an end? Neither so far. Levi would sense it later on - way later when his feelings would become more conflicted, and you'd never suspect the problematic nature of what was to come, as you'd never consider it an actual problem. That would all come in time, though. For now you were only the numbers 15 and 26 riding in a big bus that would drive him to work and you - to school.
Later you'd inquire about his work hours. Asking him if he had a girlfriend came a week after that. And then you found yourself spending minutes staring at each and every car passing your bus stop in the morning in search of his. You saw him less than a month later after his friend crashed his car for the second time that year. There would be three more, but he'd never seem all too angry about it. Riding the bus together became a shared activity for numbers 15 and 26, and by the time they became 16 and 27 the latter had already agreed to a cup of tea in a café and the former had fallen quite hopelessly in love. Your date on the hood of his repaired car would occur during a very chilly October and your first kiss would take place two months later, in the front seat in a vacant parking lot during a snowstorm.
All in all, Levi's ongoing emotional conflict made things indescribably hard for you and your adolescent optimism but it was eventually overcome. A secret relationship began on a very unmemorable date some weeks later, brought to life by your desperate wish for Levi to give you a chance and his incapability to refuse. Running from the inevitable had meant nothing to him until awhile ago but he'd begun sprinting back when he was still twenty-six and he needed some rest a year later, a little taste of what he'd been afraid of. A taste of something bad, something he wasn't meant to be doing. God, how your beautiful smile spoke of the opposite. It beckoned him closer to the fire until he burned, but it didn't hurt - there was only warmth. So he stayed, in spite of how unbeneficial he thought that was.
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escapethewonderland · 6 months ago
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Lost Scenes Thursday! Get to know your favourite authors better. Show five scenes from either abandoned fics where you regret they will never see the light of day, or five scenes from WIPs where you are impatient to see them out there. Long, short, one-liner... it's all good reading. Tag five other authors where you are curious.
(feel free to ignore it though :))
Hello darling! ✹💜
I saw this ask and I couldn't resist because only my PC knows the amount of WIPs I have on it. I was very excited for this, not gonna lie so thank you for sending it!
Some of them will probably never see the light of day, some hopefully will. (fingers crossed because the procrastination is strong in this one 😂)
Tagging a few of my lovelies (feel free to ignore it though 💜✹): @miss-celestia13 @itsnotzka @julesthoughts @cassi0-peia @fem-moony @julcia404
So let's go ahead and dive into it.
Disclaimer: the majority of them were written in my native language so the translation is far from finished and thoroughly edited.
Also, this post is long af.
The first one is a small scene from the first chapter of what was supposed to be my PhilxMC Duskwood fanfiction. 🐩‍⬛
“A weird dream has been troubling me for a while lately” she replied quietly, still facing the window. A ruffling of paper, probably a page being turned and her therapist voice filled the air again. “Would you like to talk about it?” asked the other woman with patience and kindness. Nadia turned around hesitantly, resting her hips against the big window’s edge, hugging her elbows for comfort. She nodded, biting her lower lip while she recalled her dream. “It’s not always quite the same, some minor details change at times” Nadia started saying. “It starts with me waking up in a lush forest, usually barefoot and empty handed. In the dream, I know I’m looking for something so I start walking, watching every step. At times, I wander in the forest for what feels hours or days, with only a bird overlooking my movements.” Nadia began to walk around the doctor’s office almost unconsciously. “Do you remember what kind of bird it is?” the therapist questioned with a soothing tone. The girl shocked her head, long brunette hair falling in waves down her shoulders. “I’m not sure, it’s either a crow or a raven, I can’t really tell the difference” said Nadia, frowning her eyebrows uncertain. The doctor invited her to go on with an encouraging hand’s gesture. “Please, go on” Nadia squared her shoulders for the next part: it usually plagued her most recent nightmares and it scared her to death. “Suddenly, I stop near a tree to inspect it and at a closer look I understand why. There’s something carved in the bark, a sort of stylized symbol in the shape of a raven or a crow, but when my hands are almost about to touch it, a scream fills the air.” Nadia paused, rubbing her arms against the unexpected cold evoked by the tell of her dream. It was one thing when it was all in her head, she could pretend it was only a fragment of her vivid imagination and nothing more. Narrating out loud made it somehow more sinister and real. “I look around frightened, hastily trying to figure out where it came from and then I see it. A figure is standing there, near the trees, with a jute bag over his head. I can’t see his eyes but I know he’s watching me. And then, I’m running for the hills, the creature
or man
 whatever it is, it’s following me at full speed and I can’t escape, I can’t hide, I’m like a prey counting the seconds leading up to her death.”
2. The second is an excerpt of an original short story I wrote years ago for a contest called "Dark Seas". I was one of the 3 lucky winners! đŸ„° It is not published in English (yet) but here is a little glimpse of it (translation is unedited, it's still in its raw form). đŸŒŠđŸ§œđŸ»â€â™€ïž
And then a sound interrupted that moment frozen in time. The piercing sound of the general alarm urgently shook the Leviathan’s walls. The man looked up to the ceiling, swearing a bunch of profanities. He barked orders like a rabid animal, his eyes setting at last on the lifeless body of nurse Michaels. “Clean this mess, start the evacuation procedures, NOW!” he ordered peremptory, but no one around him seemed able to move a muscle. “You’ll die, general” declared Seline coldly. The sclera of her eyes shifted color, slowly turning into a deeper shade of blue in stark contrast with the pale iris. “You’ll die alone and forgotten in the depths of the abysses that you believe you can conquer for your dirty deeds” The man looked at her as if seeing the mermaid for the first time. “The ocean does not forgive. This is a promise” murmured Seline, voice sweet as honey before parting her lips and singing a wordless melody. She closed her eyes, listening carefully to the sound of the ocean. She could feel it, right there in the distance, the chanting of the waves screaming for vengeance. The mermaids are coming, my sweet darling. Seline projected that reassuring thought to Eloise, and a sense of calm overcame her. They’re here.
3. The third scene comes from an old, abandoned story about ghosts loosely based on my old school and a dream. đŸ‘»
“Tell me. Tell me what you saw,” he demanded, eyes boring a grave look I had never seen before. The sweet lull of the water made the moment feel surreal. I was still grasping for breath when Garrett moved. He cradled my nape gently, the other hand tangled in my wet hair in a silent prayer. He should not have been this close to me, but his touch felt like a reassuring anchor to reality. I parted my lips, words struggling to emerge under Garrett's intense, worried gaze. I frowned before finding the courage to let the truth come to the surface. “Are you familiar with Charlotte, Charlotte Wrought? The only daughter of Darren Wrought?” I said, swallowing my fears. Garrett nodded, not leaving me or moving away even for a second. “She did not take her life. She was murdered."
4. This is from my beloved Teen Wolf fanfiction. I spent a lot of time on it, sweat and tears spilled while shaping the plot which spread through the first three seasons of the show. It was my comfort throughout a very difficult summer. Now it's just a dusty memory on my pc. I won't say what's going on in this scene, just in case I decide to continue it eventually. đŸș🌕
“I don’t want an evil person in my life. I adored the sweet Isaac who asked me shyly to help him out with chemistry. The same guy who held me the whole night like I was the only thing keeping you anchored to reality.” The girl lifted her head, looking the young werewolf in the eyes, a traitorous tear sliding down her cheek, “The same guy I cried for after promising to never do it again. be the cold, strong girl seeking her vengeance. You are light, Isaac,” whispered the girl, planting a soft kiss on the edge of his lips before turning around. “Even though now it’s tarnished, I know it’s still glowing somewhere. But I don’t want another bad person in my life, not now.” She stated softly, resting her forehead against the cold shower’s tiles.
5. Last but not least, a little tease from chapter 3 of "Do I Wanna Know?", my original OS currently published on Wattpad, Ao3 and Inkitt.
How many secrets can you still keep, Alexis? Derek seemed to direct the question at her, bold and wild. A lump in her throat blocked every word. Her tangled mind was powerless, unable to form any rational thought, overflown with images of him singing to her. “Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow” he sang, taking his sweet time before meeting her eyes, fixated on her until the pre-chorus. Alexis didn’t dare to move a single muscle, like a snake charmed by the lethal flute.
Hope you enjoyed it! 💜✹🌌
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gardening--tools · 6 days ago
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💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings?
đŸ–Šïž BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos?
💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.
🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?
🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner?
😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?
CARTRIP JUDE THOUGHTS GO!!!!
CARTRIP JUDE THOUGHTS ACTIVATE!! | deliver me from boredom, ask away
💍: Jude got her ears pierced at age twelve, after a year of begging for it. Oh and she played that game, too, going to both Pockets and Lottie and really leaning into the “poor me all my friends have their ears pierced and I’m already the weird one because i live in two cities :(“. Lottie took her on her twelfth birthday to the mall in Tulsa to get them done.
She never considered getting another piercing pre-war. Then she got busy with recovering from her crash, and then again with surviving after the Great War. If anybody offered, she’d probably consider getting more ear piercings, or a nose ring.
đŸ–Šïž: She’s got a tramp stamp. She and a friend went to go get tattoos after she turned eighteen, and the lower back was the best place she could think of where Pockets and Dot wouldn’t see. It’s just about the most generic, trailer-park-hot-girl design you can imagine, and Jude loves it. Once I get out of this damned car, I'll draw it for you.
She’d love more tattoos, especially now that she doesn’t have to risk The Wrath Of Dot.
💯: Even though she didn’t do well in school, she generally liked her coursework. She liked to read, and was in honors math and science classes. It was just that she got distracted easily and there was always something more interesting to do. Maybe if she’d been diagnosed with ADHD and got medicated, that would’ve turned out different.
Epilogue Jude starts using a cane frequently. Her back and hip doesn’t quite heal right, after the crash and the stress she puts it through running around the ‘Wealth. Not to mention the—ahem, events she suffers in Act Three. She needs a little help getting around.
Jude can’t lie for shit. Incredibly inconvenient during her Railroad tenure.
🐉: I was about to say that I didn’t think Jude knew of any, but no. Pockets was a Super Nerd, he’d definitely have introduced her to Lord of the Rings and DnD and all that good stuff. Jude was certified Weird Little Girl, so it was probably trolls and gnomes and goblins and all things in between. She had a spiritual connection with the book Where The Wild Things Are.
🍛: Jude’s dinners have looked very different at all different stages of her life. From hot dog mac n cheese with her mom, to hearty meals prepared by her Nonnie made of ingredients they or their neighbors grew, to takeout or a cup noodle when she lived on her own. But her favorite dinner is one shared with a bunch of people, often times with a bowl of flavorful stew and a kind of bread. After the War and after she and Preston can settle, that’s the kind of dinner she tries to have the most.
😓: In most things, Jude’s fairly easy going and curious. She’s not against learning something new or being proven wrong. But when she has her mind set on what is right and wrong, she’s as stubborn as a mule.
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frenchfrywrites · 10 months ago
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on the topic of tiddies ℱ, which of the obm cast do you think likes their tits played with most ??
oddly enough my bets are on Lucifer, i bet you could get him to cum just by playing with his tits as he grinds on your thigh, but he'll never admit it.
or mammon, but he's so possessive that any touch by reader/mc could get him to cum
v curious to hear your opinions !! kisses xx
WHEW LOVE your suggestion of lucifer being the one with the most sensitive tits.. very fun
Thoughts under the read more bc I wrote far more than I thought I would
I want to put satan at the top of the list because I like to imagine he adores foreplay and he could have you touch his chest for hours... he could absolutely cum from it alone, and is obsessed with you massaging, biting, bruising, kissing, sucking on, or fucking his tits. He is not picky with how you play with is chest, but you have to give them a lil attention every day. I also think he likes it because he can kiss you while you play with his chest, and he's a silly lil romantic who loves kissing you.
I think I'd put mammon next because (like you said) he's so obsessed with you, and turned on by everything you do to him, that he loves being touched by you anywhere and his chest is soo sensitive to your touch. Also he's absolutely got nipple piercings and looooves having you fuck his tits.
Dia is next because along with having big tits, they're super sensitive, AND he's sooooo in love with you that you could play with his chest for hours and he'd love it
I don't have much of a reason as to why (your propaganda worked..) but I want to put Lucifer high on the list.. I like it being a secret weakness of his. He loves it more than anything, and would never say it (though he does arch his chest towards you while you fuck him; sometimes he's better at showing what he wants than telling you)
Simeon loves having his chest played with, but it's overwhelming for him to have a lot of your attention focused on any one place on his body. He's very sensitive but won't be able to cum from you solely playing with his chest and after a bit might ask you to touch him in other places so he can cum.
Belphie is in the middle for me bc he's largely indifferent (would rather you touch him elsewhere), BUT his chest is so sensitive and i hc him having big boobies, so they're very fun to play with. A perfectly timed tug on one of his nipples, or biting into the meat of his chest will have him seeing stars as he cums.
I think Asmo loves being touched anywhere, but he couldnt sit and have you play with his chest for more than like 15min, he wants to be touched in more fun places!! He loves if you give them some attention, but it's not necessary for him either
Solomon loves to tease you by wearing things bring attention towards his chest, but the only reason is to tease you. As soon as you spend more than 5min or so playing with his chest he gets bored and wants you to touch him elsewhere. He doesn't mind if you play with his chest while you finger him or busy yourself elsewhere, but he gets restless if the main event is you focusing on his chest.
Beel is lower on the list to me bc I can't imagine him being very thrilled by the sensation.... that or he doesn't receive much sensation from his chest at all. He's a total romantic tho, and loves if you rest your head on his chest, or kiss him over his heart, or worship his body in general
idk I can see Barbatos, like Beel, being largely indifferent towards his chest. You could sit there and play with him for a long time, and he'd blush and it feels nice, but it won't satisfy him at all.
Idk if this is a surprise, but Levi's low on the list for me... I think he'd have some chest dysphoria, and would not love attention on his chest. this hc is so weak though, because I constantly write about levi having his chest played with lol
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snugglesquiggle · 2 days ago
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(posted this last night; i was gonna reblog it today with tags i was too tired to add, but that thread is long enough for tumblr to start folding it, so i figured i'd post it without the preface. see here for context on Illurien. you can also read this story on my website, where any subsequent proofreading/editing will happen. anyway)
of the myriad glares
just, imagine walking alone, so far from civilization, no one aware of where you’ve gone, and feeling profoundly known as the sky darkens, as a drizzle of rain falls, as thunder is heard as a distant crackle‍-​roar above while the winds begin to whisper and sing.
but it’s not just the wind. or maybe it is‍ ‍—‍ are you hearing things? susurrations at the edge of your hearing, faint words or pareidolic noise.
either it’s nothing, or
 you’re being beckoned.
you’re drawn forward, even as the storm, the atmosphere all around, is chilling you, arousing gooseflesh. the cold pierces through your clothes. you shiver and can’t steady yourself. unsteady, coming loose, drifting. you think of the drafty chill of a door left cracked, the flutter of pages right after a bookknife slits open an uncut tome‍ ‍—‍ you imagine an arrival after a blade were taken to open reality itself.
in a word, something is different.
you could run now. any creature with half a brain would‍ ‍—‍ any person with sense at all would say this feels wrong. you don’t run, and maybe that’s why this is happening.
you’re being beckoned. the winds speak with a hundred hushed voices. they ask your name, and the answer springs to mind, dances subvocally at your lips, and that’s enough.
you see that dark silhouette in the distance first. but image is hardly a reliable primary source. you feel a presence, her. the voices are all hers, her intent crafted the rhythms and inquiries.
she’s breathing in your brain, a warm, feminine soul‍-​hum that reverberates from your instinct to your identity‍ ‍—‍ like a tuning fork tapped curiously against a glass.
and then she breathes in. before, you were being beckoned, but your feet move with the gravity of falling, step by step as mist parts around the dark silhouette and grants her color.
she wears the wide sleeved robes of a martial arts fighter. the fabric almost seems woven of fine silks‍ ‍—‍ if, that is, every thread were a rivulet of water. she floats draped in a waterfall, with only one thing solid against the flow: a sheathed weapon sitting at her side. the exposed inches of blade glitter like ice, catching your eye while the rest of her is shadow. she has a bend to her legs and a swaying readiness‍ ‍—‍ as if violence were but moments away.
and yet you walk on.
then you stop yourself midstride, wrestling back control back of your steps
 and then you redouble your steps toward her. but, cautiously now! still, you are curious.
and so is she. she asks you about the last book you read, as the two of you finally meet eye to eye.
she’s so much taller than you‍ ‍—‍ can you even touch the top of her head if you reached, tip‍-​toed? when you’re near enough to see her eyes, you have to crane your head up. her face is a blank mask‍ ‍—‍ a careless abstraction of a woman‍ ‍—‍ two silver eyes that peer, as if in scrutiny alone those holes could drain the world like the waters that clad her.
the eyes focus on you, and you answer her question. you name the book, the subject, recount the themes and the most thrilling and insightful moments.
your legs are moving again. you’ve sat down now, the two of you, and together watch the rain fall, the lightening an inconstant flame in the heavens.
you tell her of the town you hail from, skimming briefly over the life you live, exams and studies. she breathes faster now, the hum of her presence so loud and the persistent tug at your being recurring with less reprieve.
scooting back some, putting some distance between the two of you, you startle at an orbit‍ ‍—‍ several globules of liquid float in the air, and more rise from the dark water of her skin. little bridges of liquid maintain a connection, like the stem of so many flowers blooming
if you moved further, tried to stand up, there’d be no escape. then a droplet splashes against your face. it’s cold, and leaves you shaken unsteady again, fluttering from another blade to the skin of the world.
you see the stars, too many to count, moving too fast to parse shapes, or maybe moving too fast not to see the shapes, the vision pouring into your mind so fast you can’t discard any of it as unnecessary, refine your focus, and it’s a million points of light to fire a million neurons and you’re thinking of countless worlds all at once.
you’re coughing‍ ‍—‍ or were you screaming enough to leave your throat raw? but you hear the rain again, you feel the hum of her presence still at every cortex of your mind, but you can’t ignore the dissonance in the vibration now. the tuning fork strikes anew with even greater force, merciless in investigation.
cold. like tears on your face, and they’re not your tears. you see a graveyard, you see bodies piling up and pyres alight and grieving throngs clad in attire you can’t place, with banners of nation you’ve never been to.
cold. a fish swims in a dark river deeper than chasms, deep like oceans. swimming against the current, and then it stops, forward momentum stolen from it. there was movement ahead of the little fish‍ ‍—‍ vast, vast, vast!
you’re on the ground writing. she glances down at you, then her attention drifts away just as quickly. each attempt to climb to your feet gets you another droplet, another vision of something, somewhere, somewhen that isn’t you, isn’t here, isn’t now‍ ‍—‍ is it even real?
a man with a face ringed with lights. a mountain crumbling as if a pillar deep below the earth were removed. a crowd hurrying through streets of dark stone, while pustule‍-​crusted bodies that might be corpses line the alleys.
in the brief glimpses you claw back of the real world‍ ‍—‍ is it real, or just a recurring dream?‍ ‍—‍ you see her again, floating again now, the blade still like glittering ice‍ ‍—‍ now drawn, its full length exposed.
you’d seen this first‍ ‍—‍ her violence, always just moments away. and what weapon was more decisive, more deeply destroying, than knowledge itself?
she is a downpour. all these mere glimpses of what comprises her surge into your lungs, treacherous like the sea and just as fain to drown you. you’re no warrior, and if you were, how many have fallen to her blade? how many were even worth to achieve that honor? no, all warriors drown.
knowing that you can’t withstand or outmatch her‍ ‍—‍ there’s peace in that reality. in a way, you’re lucky: all these visions of distant lands and times are a treasure. each might be something few have ever seen‍ ‍—‍ but all together? there’s beauty, there’s wonder, but most of all, there’s more to all this. some of these distinct events are clearly related in time or in space, and some you’ve heard of before, in your own life, in your own studies.
as you stop fighting, you start trying to put the pieces together.
and then you hear her, more clearly than ever.
so you understand. confusion proceeds all learning. every fear is a fear of an unknown, great or small. so many feel that prick of reality’s uncompromise, and they run from it. they dry themselves in ignorance; and they cannot grow. that is true death, even before i confirmed it.
but you’re different. and that’s why i cannot let you leave me.
if you aren’t leaving, then you’ll be staying with her? how?
yes. (she cannot smile; she has no mouth.) she tells you: this will hurt.
and maybe there’s still a part of you, animal or wise part of you, that craves survival and fears this thing, so vast her presence can surround every part of your being.
you could try to run, but there’s no escape. you already knew that. she would let you start running, though.
and just as soon, you hear the crack that isn’t thunder. your vision would go white, and not from brightness. warm wet would pour down your back, and it would not be the rain.
(her blade was already drawn, after all)
it’s not a sword; the blade is segmented, water bending in and around it to mold its shape. longer now: it’s like a whip, a snake curling in her grasp. she strides forward, legs long, and without one hesitation she strikes you again, another lash splitting open your back. you fall.
she asks you about your favorite book. you sputter, and ask what she’s talking about.
exams? studies? life?
she bows to your agony‍-​twitching form. cold, cold hands touch you, soaking and drenching you. you feel a sharp lick, and then she’s sliding off your clothes, and your skin. droplets fall, and this vivisection‍-​execution is interrupted with the distant unfolding of scintillating fractals, ceasing warfare of ocean waves, the crystalline lattice of metal annealed.
cold, cold hands touch spasming muscles and exposed bones. storm winds craft sheets of water to wash away the rivers of red, but there are subtler winds murmuring.
she’s breathing so so fast now, you can feel it, her mind humming and engulfing your. there’s so much care in her, so much desire, so much intent‍ ‍—‍ so much like a hunter carefully taking choice cuts of her fresh carcass.
we’re taking away everything, everything that matters in you. but that’s theft, isn’t it? but this should make it fair. we’ll give you back something just as valuable.
she tells you who she is.
and that’s the last question she asks you, to repeat it back: who am i?
Illurien, you say. she drives the length of her tempest into your personhood. her blade sinks down to the hilt, and she carves. you’re taken to pieces, wet and dripping as cold cold hands grasp the round forms from your abdomen, squeezing. you’re weighed and measured, studied, and then she cuts again among what parts remain.
with your last breath, as your mind flickers in and out of visions, you’re repeating that word worth your whole being. some would say it feels wrong, but it sounds so beautiful in your mouth, harmonizing with the wind. Illurien Illurien Illurien.
then you can’t think about how it feels, either; the thoughts are peeled and plucked out one by one, and yet you still feel. horror, outrage‍ ‍—‍ and perhaps some insecure, rejection‍-​fresh inadequacy. did she care, did you matter, why couldn’t this be more copacetic—
as you die, all these feelings remain with you, and, unshackled from sense or articulation, they devolve into a confused soup. any part of you that could understand, or ask what was happening, has been stripped away.
still, to this unspoken question she gives an unheard answer: why? we have no use for them.
those truth‍-​laden droplets still circle Illurien, as if swarming or mesmerized, each a glimpse of distant vistas, information‍-​particles in some alien configuration. in your last moments, the sights provoked curiosity, understanding, satisfaction, and nothing else. that is what composes Illurien, what composes us.
the visions never stop flowing. the knowledge still beats against you like a continuous downpour, but now there is no pain from your body‍ ‍—‍ of having a body‍ ‍—‍ to distract you from the truth.
winds like a hundred hushed voices say: let us return now. we have just heard this marvelous new story. it simply aches for a place in our library
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