#One-Sided Attraction

[sitp-recs]

Hiii, I have been reading my way through some of your recs and having a great time doing so. So firstly I wanted to thank you so much for all the time you put into them, I love your blog:). I was also wondering if you know of any one sided/unrequited love, angsty Drarry? I mean where one (preferably Harry) is attracted/smitten either secretly or openly, and the other (Draco) is totally uninterested, maybe even mean if/when he finds out. I don’t mind if it has a happy ending or not, but just looking for lots of angst along the way. Thank you so much!💜

You’re very welcome, I’m so happy you’ve been enjoying the fics! I don’t have many recs for that specific trope (I’d say Draco is never uninterested when it comes to Harry haha just not emotionally available) but maybe you’ll enjoy these, especially the anon one. I hope my followers can help too!

Smitten Draco:

Yours, Draco by @drarrytrash (NR, 3.5k)

All that's left are 15 letters, and then those are gone too.

Closure is a state of mind, orphaned (E, 12k)

After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death.

you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (M, 20k) - happy ending

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Smitten Harry:

Fine-Fractured Halo, anon (E, 29k)

For Harry, it all starts on July 31, 1999 and ends on July 31, 2019. Twenty years of longing, love, and pain in no particular order.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k) - happy ending

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

[wangxianficrecs]

The Shadows of My Old Palaces, Falling Across the Moats by ChilianXianzi

The Shadows of My Old Palaces, Falling Across The Moats

by ChilianXianzi

T, 8k, Endgame Wangxian

Summary: Wen Qing would probably never know who their nameless cultivator used to be, or what kind of secret grief he hides beneath his bowed shoulders. But the man makes Wei Wuxian smile, in a way he doesn't anymore after Lan Wangji refused to stay for dinner and never visited again. And perhaps, surrounded by death and resentment as they are, perhaps that's enough. After wandering the realm for years in the wake of his wife's death, Qingheng-Jun came to the Burial Mounds - And stayed. Kay's comments: Qingheng-Jun/Wei Wuxian is not a pairing I would have ever read on my own, but since it was written by ChilianXianzi, I knew I had to give it a try and I wasn't disappointed! Nothing happens between them and the story is endgame Wangxian, but Qingheng-Jun certainly develops feelings for our Xiao-laozu. Really loved the idea of him just becoming a rogue cultivator after his wife's death and the Lan clan merely saying he's in seclusion because they have no idea where he is. In the end, it all works out too and he goes to scold his nephews and brother into making things right with Wei Wuxian and the Wens. Mostly The Untamed canon! Excerpt: "Aiyah, Daozhang, you're so good at this," Wei Wuxian sighs, "Are you sure you were a rogue cultivator and not some prodigious farmer, huh?" "My-" Daozhang Zhou's voice falters for the briefest moment, and Wen Qing holds herself against looking up from tending to her own herbs, ears pricking, "Someone very dear to me was fond of growing things, and I suppose I learned some things, watching her." "She used to plant all sorts of things, made them grow so beautifully," Daozhang Zhou continues, his voice now quiet and musing, as if he's not talking to Wei Wuxian anymore, "But she loved gentians, covered her garden with it, and gave me the dried blossoms to keep." Even Wei Wuxian has turned quiet beside the Daozhang, a heartbreaking understanding in his grey eyes. Wen Qing had always wondered what their nameless Daozhang had lost, what ghosts he carries around his shoulders so heavily - But now that she's seen the outline of it forms, it just makes her feel a too-familiar bereftness. A kindred grief. Wen Qing stands quietly, and leaves the two to their shared grief and potatoes.

pov wen qing, canon divergence, burial mounds settlement days, qingheng-jun/wei wuxian, endgame wangxian, qingheng-jun lives, golden core reveal, age difference, immortal qingheng-jun, fix-it of sorts, the untamed compliant, everybody lives, wei wuxian lives, jin zixuan lives, hurt wei wuxian, wen wemnants live, burial mounds ensemble as family, one-sided attraction, unrequited love

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[its-queenofthesilence]

I Cannot Live Without My Soul! Part 6 of ?

Notes:

Have some AndrAIa lore dump that while be relevant in this story but also not because I may or may not have planned a sequel. Or 5.... Also Megabyte being a grump, lmao.

PLEASE NOTE: Going forward, this is going to be edited in a way to remove stuff that violates the TOS. Nothing super graphic just smut basically. I know we have mature filters but I am not sure how Tumblr feels about smut so. Things removed will be replaced with blackouts or redacted, if you would like to read the uncensored version, please see the FF.net or A03 (Recommended) link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57835603/chapters/147208144

Chapter 6: You Cannot Fix What Is Not Wrong

Enzo Raphael Matrix(1) was bored. He had been scared initially when he had been throw into the holding cells, worried for his friends and family. But you could only be scared for so long before it gave way to other feelings. Anger, resentment, acceptance. Now he was just bored.

It had been a cycle, and he had nothing to do but bother the troops guarding his cell for attention, much to their annoyance. Feet against the wall, laying upside down on the bed with his head hanging off, he was whining as he repeatedly tapped his foot against the wall.

“Will you stop that!”

It was more of a request than a demand from the binome with a mustache that he can’t remember is called Chancy or Custard. He thinks it’s Custard.

“I’m Bored.” he said simply, refusing to stop tapping the wall.

‘Custard’ let out an scream, his sanity slowly whittled into nothingness every moment he was left in charge of this kid. "You're our prisoner, not our guest. You don't exactly get to be entertained."

Enzo (1) rolled his eyes, the tapping increasing in speed. "Come on Custard, can't you at least let me out for a bit? I promise I won't try to escape or anything."

Chancy let out another small scream, barely contained behind clenched teeth. Or what equated as teeth for a binome."For the last time, it's Chancy! And absolutely not, I'm not letting you out of that cell. You're a prisoner, how many times do I need to tell you?!”

Enzo (1) let out an exaggerated sigh, finally relenting on the incessant tapping. "But I’m boreeeed.” he repeated, whining.

Chancy shot Enzo (1) an exasperated look. "Well, you're just going to have to deal with it. You're lucky we're keeping you alive at all."

Enzo (1) crossed his arms, pouting petulantly. "This is so unfair. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You're associated with the Guardian and those other troublemakers," Chancy retorted. "That's reason enough as far as Lord Megabyte is concerned."

The copy opened his mouth to argue further, but was cut off by the sound of the door to the holding cells sliding open. Both he and Chancy turned to see another Binome stride in. A bit portly around the middle with a fading hairline, the other man seemed tired.

“Captain! Please tell me you have new orders. Anything but guard duty.” ‘Custard’ begged.

“‘Fraid not, Lord Megabyte still hasn’t ordered any attacks yet.”

“Still? It’s been a cycle since he took over the Principal’s Office and still no plan for wiping the rebels out?”

“No, I heard from some others that he’s been having Herr Doktor run tests on him; something wrong with his code apparently.”

“What about Megabreath?” Chancy breathed in once, then exhaled slowly. He knew he had been given strict orders not to kill the kid but that was becoming harder by the second.

“Nothing that concerns you kid! I swear to the User, I am going to delete you.” he growled, walking right up to the energy field separating them. Enzo (1) just started tapping the wall again with his foot causing the man to scream.

“Lieutenant, what’s the issue? The Lord told us to leave them alive.” The captain said, irritated. If there was one person not cut out to be a Neo-Viral, it was Chancy. The man had no sense of keeping cool and collected. Yet Megabyte kept him around for some reason.

“He’s being annoying!” the man gritted out to his superior.

“So take a walk solider, they’re not going anywhere. Honestly, use your head!”

The pair walked off, leaving Enzo alone with his thoughts. If he was big and smart like his bigself, he would try to break out. But he was just a small sprite with nothing to help him escape. Sighing, he sat up on the bed and turned to look over at Phong.

Megabyte had either been kind enough, or didn’t care enough to put both sprites in a shared cell. It made him feel a bit better. Phong however had been quiet the last few days. Medics had been in to stabilize him and make sure he didn’t just delete program (Megabyte needed him alive, other wise he wouldn’t have bothered) but the elderly sprite seemed lost in thought almost.

"Phong?" Enzo called out hesitantly. "Are you ok?"

The sprite in question slowly lifted his head, his wise eyes meeting Enzo's. "I am as well as can be expected, my child," he replied wearily.

"Do you think the others will come for us?" Enzo asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I am certain they are doing all they can to mount a rescue. But Megabyte has the entire Principal Office locked down. I fear it may not be so simple."

“Is that why you are so quiet? ‘Cause you’re scared of what’s going to happen?”

“I will admit, I am afraid but no young sprite. I apologize, I have been thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

Phong paused. He didn’t know how to tell it to such a young sprite, or if he should at all. There were just somethings that Enzo shouldn’t know about yet.

He’s worried for the others yes, but he’s more worried about Dot and extension AndrAIa. He thinks back to the Wedding, what would have happened if Bob had not shown up. The Wedding Night.

Despite insistence that he had standards, the old vector sprite couldn’t help but worry that in his pursuit for revenge, the virus intended to harm the pair more than just torture and deletion. He remembers the look on the Viruses face, looking at ‘that’ video file. He had not been able to see the entire video (or the other one really) from where he had laid but he had seen enough to know what the virus was looking at.

If he was capable of torture, mayhem and destruction, why not [REDACTED]?

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I do not wish to worry you, my child. These are simply an old man's concerns. Let us have faith that our friends will find a way to rescue us."

Enzo nodded, though he could see the worry etched on Phong's face. The elderly sprite was always so calm and collected, to see him this unsettled was also unsettling for Enzo.

“Phong?” he asked timidly, pressing his back against the cell wall.

“Yes, my child?”

“What’s a ‘whore?”

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He was enraged, infuriated, rabid, incensed; he could go on. With a snarl, he over turned a gurney that had been shoved into the corner of the Medical Bay, not able to contain his anger.

A cycle of scans and tests, and still no answer to his problem. In the mean time, his plans for vengeance had been put on the back burner as he tried to deal with the increasing need for AndrAIa her that had been building within him. The virus, nor the doctor by extension, had not been able to sleep properly in a week, his body overworked and overtired.

Every thought was now related to the Game Sprite in some way, shape, or form and he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was going to explode.

“I thought I told you to find the problem!”

Herr Doktor who up until now had been trying his best not to nod off from lack asleep, found himself wide awake as he became the target of Megabyte's outburst, quickly backing away from the fuming virus, still holding the .doc file that contained the results of the most recent scan.

"I apologize, mein Herr! I'm trying mein best. If you could tell me vhat I am looking for..."

“I told you! Any changes in my code!” The virus reached down to pick up the doctor by his neck and began to squeeze; not enough to harm him but to state his dissatisfaction.

"A-ah, mein König, Maybe ve should start vith your symptoms rather than lo-looking at your code. It vay be easier." choked the Binome, struggling to breath a bit.

By now, the mad scientist had gotten out of his lord that something had happened when he encountered the Game Sprite in the hallways of the Principal’s Office. Unfortunately, his lord was reluctant or unwilling to provide any more detail than that.

With a snarl, Megabyte dropped the smaller creature, allowing him to quickly scurry backwards and out of grabbing range. The virus puzzled for a moment, debating the idea. Herr Doktor was probably right, starting with symptoms would probably be easier, or at least give them somewhere to start.

"Very well, let's start there then. What would you like to know?" he asked, trying to reign in his temper.

Herr Doktor straightened his rumpled lab coat, clearing his throat nervously. "Vell, for starters, vhat exactly happened vith the Game Sprite? You mentioned something...unusvual occurred between you two."

The virus paused, his clawed fingers tapping against his chin as he considered how much to reveal. "It was...strange," he began slowly. "There was a burst of light that came from her that began flowing into me, causing me- us, to glow. I've never experienced anything like it before."

Herr Doktor's eyes widened, taking a moment to jot something down on his organizer.

“Vhat else Mein Herr?”

Megabyte's brow furrowed as he tried to put into words the strange sensations he had felt. "It was...odd. The light only lasted mere nanoseconds but when it was gone, I felt a surge of emotions that I've never experienced before - a sense of contentment, even happiness.”

He paused, a look of frustration crossing his face. "But it didn't last. As soon as the hacker intervened and she fled, the feeling faded leaving me feeling…I don’t know. Now I just feel...off. Unbalanced, in a way I can't quite describe."

Herr Doktor nodded thoughtfully, jotting down more notes. "Interesting. And have you noticed any other changes? Anything physical or in your behavior that is out of the ordinary?"

Megabyte frowned, thinking back to the previous cycle. "I've found myself...distracted, in a way I'm not accustomed to. My concentration has been poor, and I find my thoughts constantly returning to AndrAIa." He let out a frustrated growl. "It's maddening. I can't seem to focus on anything else."

A look passed over the Doctor’s face, one that Megabyte couldn’t place. It was a look that was part confusion, that he understood, but also part something else, like the doctor knew something he didn’t.

“What?” he barked, the need for answers overwhelming.

“What do you feel when you think about her?”

“What? What does that that have to do with anything? I already told you, content. What more do you want?”

Herr Doktor shifted uncomfortably under Megabyte's piercing gaze, but pressed on. "Mein Herr, humvor me. In detail.”

“Fine! Happy, warmth, like I am able to infect the entire net at once, like I am going mad because I cannot bare the thought of her not being near!”

Herr Doktor's eyes widened as Megabyte rambled off his symptoms in increasing frustration. He hesitated for a moment, pondering how to broach this delicate topic.

"Mein Herr, I believe...I believe what you are experiencing may be a form of..."

He paused, trying to find the right words. "Infatuation. Perhaps even...love."

There was silence, and then, a deep guttural laugh that sent chills down the Doktor’s spine. He knew his lord enough to know what kind of laugh this was. This was not an amused laugh like when someone said something he thought was funny (usually revolving around Dot Matrix) or one done out of politeness. This was a laugh that meant someone had done or said something so stupid, that it infuriated the lord to no ends.

Megabyte's laughter rang out, dripping with derision and contempt. "What did you say?” he hissed. The claws, while now always out do to his new form, seemed to extend further as fury overcame his face.

Herr Doktor swallowed nervously, realizing he may have made a mistake. "M-mein Herr, I’m not saying that’s w—what it is! I was just speculating!”

The virus didn’t bother to grab the doctor again, instead choosing to tower over him before leaning down and getting inches away from his face.

"You dare to suggest that I, the great Megabyte, am capable of something as pathetic and weak as love?!"

Herr Doktor cowered under Megabyte's furious glare, his metal frame shaking with fear. "N-no, my lord! Of course not! Please, forgive me for overstepping!"

Snarling, Megabyte grabbed the doktor once more and threw him into the wall, causing the smaller man to scream in pain and terror.

With a roar the virus began to destroy anything he could get his hands on. Megabyte was in a full blown rage, destroying everything in sight. Overturned medical carts, glass vials, the wiring in the walls - nothing was safe from his fury.

The doctor cowered against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible as Megabyte's rampage continued. He knew better than to try and intervene - the virus was far too volatile in this state. All he could do was wait and pray that the outburst would pass quickly, and without him being a target.

After what felt like an eternity, Megabyte finally seemed to run out of steam, coming to a stop and panting heavily. Silence filled the air, one man too afraid to speak and the other lost in thoughts.

“Herr Doktor?”

“…Yes, m-mein herr?”

“I won’t delete you today, but don’t you ever suggest something so stupid again because I can promise you I will make your deletion a painful one. Understood?” The virus never looks at him, eyes fixated on an invisible target only he can see.

'“J-Ja.”

“Good. Now have the men prepare my limousine, it’s time I had a chat with the Game Sprite.”

Breathe in,

Breath Out,

Smile brightly, nod politely.

Don’t think about him it.

Everything is okay.

I mean, who cared if she had barely slept in a week, was avoiding her friends at any chance she got and was struggling to not to spiral into a episode self-hatred and depression?

As she walked the halls of the base, she gave small waves and hellos to the people working, trying to not notice the way they stared at her.

Like they had always stared.

“..Freak…”

“..not trustworthy..”

“..dangero-”

She can hear them all speaking about her. It’s nothing new. She has always been an outsider in this place. But now since the incident in the Med-Bay and rumors getting out about what happened in the P.O. (Thanks to Mike the TV who had been ever so kind to listen in on her and her friends and then spread the information like wildfire.) it had been worse than usual.

She hadn’t felt this isolated than ever; not even when she was in actual isolation. She stops and hisses, pushing the thought away. She wasn’t going to think of that place, it was behind her.

She shakes her head and continues forward, moving throughout the halls of the base and into the main chamber where her friends were gathered around a table. She can practically taste the tension in the air. She tries to hide her tiredness (And the thoughts of teeth on her neck) but finds it hard.

Everyone was confused about why Megabyte had not attacked yet and subsequently, was on guard. He had been radio silent the last cycle and aside from the ABCs protecting the Principal’s Office, there was no indication that he was even in Mainframe. He had made no appearances, no speeches, nothing.

Someone speculated that maybe he had escaped to the Supercomputer to infect it but Bob pointed out a portal of any kind required internet access and the wifi tower was still down(confirmed by Glitch who still couldn’t get a signal out of the system.)

So that left them on edge. In the mean time, they were trying to best come up with a plan to get back into the P.O. They likely couldn’t get back in through the Core, Megabyte had likely figured out that’s how they escaped and had men guarding the entrance. Besides, Phong was old and injured last time anyone saw him and Enzo was young; they were more likely than anyone to succumb quickly to the Core.

The group is chatting tersely, trying to pinpoint a plan when she approaches the table. There is a schematic of the P.O laid out, with various notes and items circled on it. She can see the flicker of worry in Bob’s eyes as he takes stalk of her.

“Did you sleep?” he asks silently. Her pursed lips in response tell him that no, she hadn’t.

(Razor sharp claws running over her skin.)

“Where were you?” Enzo is on edge more than any of them and quick to instigate a fight in order to release the pent up anger building up inside of him. It’s tiring but she’s used to it.

“Just out for a walk.” she lies, the smile threatening to fall. Each day it’s becoming harder to pretend around him.

“That must be nice. We’ve been here actually working!”

AndrAIa's smile faltered at Matrix's sharp tone. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. Conceal, don’t feel.

"I know you're all working hard, Sparky. I just needed some time to myself, that's all." To sleep; or at least she tried to until the thoughts became too much.

(A deep, baritone voice purring into her ear)

“Yeah well that’s all you seem to have time for. You’ve been avoiding me for the last cycle.” The renegade says accusatorily, eye flaring briefly as anger seeped out.

“Oh no, User forbid I be too busy and tired to FAQ your ass while in the middle of an active warzone!” She regrets the words as soon as she says them. Why was this happening? She’s supposed to be good at pretending and yet she keeps slipping up, it was never this hard before to lie.

Enzo recoiled briefly, taken aback by AndrAIa's uncharacteristic outburst before the shock turned into that familiar, tiring (so, so tiring), anger she was so used to at this point.

(Touching her between the [REDACTED].)

“You really think that’s what I fucking care about right now?” the Renegade leaned forward, anger spilling out of his voice. “Enzo and Phong are still FAQing at Megabyte’s mercy, and you think I give two shits about the fact that you’re not putting out?”

‘Yes’ But she does not say it. AndrAIa knows that while he is concerned for the others, he’s extra ornery because she’s been uninterested or just not in the mood to lie there and get it over with like she always does in exchanging codes the last cycle. She knows he uses it as a way to cope when stressed; his go to after alcohol and shooting things but she just can’t seemed to get in the mood because his hands were wrong and not the ones she wanted.

“Enough! I swear to the User, none of us need to hear this.” Bob interjects, a look of desperation on his face as he tried to end this very uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t need those images in his head. AndrAIa felt her cheeks flush; momentarily forgetting about the others during the spat. She can see from the corner of her eyes Dot is looking down at the .doc she has open, trying not to look her in the eye, face red with embarrassment. Mouse just seems to be amused.

Matrix's grunted, turning away as he backed down reluctantly. A mix of frustration and hurt on his face. "Whatever," he muttered, turning his attention back to the map on the table. AndrAIa breathes deep, pushing it all back and a calm smile comes over her face.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, her voice carefully level. She knows there will be hell to pay later, behind closed doors but she cannot focus on that now . "How are we getting Enzo and Phong back?"

Bob cleared his throat, exchanging a wary glance with Dot before speaking. "Well, we've been going over the schematics, trying to find any weak points in Megabyte's defenses. Unfortunately, he's really bolstered security throughout the entire building."

He pauses, tapping his fingers on the table as he thinks. "There are still a few service tunnels and access points that may be lightly guarded, but getting in undetected is going to be a challenge. And once we're in, we'll have to deal with getting Enzo and Phong out without triggering Megabyte's full wrath."

Matrix leaned forward, his cybernetic eye whirring as he analyzed the map. "We'll need a distraction - something to draw Megabyte's forces away from the holding cells so we can get in and get them out."

“We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do about Dad, or the rest of their people on the inside.” said Dot. That was another issue they weren’t sure how to deal with. Enzo might be safe because he was a child, and he needed Phong, but what about the rest of the team that had been in the War Room? They were either infected or deleted at this point; Megabyte would not show them the same courtesy.Then again, he might not care enough about a group of Binomes and chose to allow them to leave (after all, if you kill all your future subjects, who will you have left when it comes time to take over?) And Welman had the advantage of being a null; he could not be deleted, no matter how much Megabyte tried. He could feel pain of course, but that was different.

It was a conundrum. Obviously, to them Enzo and Phong were a priority, but to the families of the Binomes inside the P.O, waiting on news of their loved ones safety, they did not feel the same.

"Well, we don’t know if anyone else is still alive Sis. We should focus on just getting in before finding survivors. We could lead a frontal assault on the P.O.," Matrix offered, cracking his knuckles. "That would definitely draw Megabyte's attention." Everyone knew that he wanted a rematch with Megabyte more than anything; partially for what had been done to Dot but also for pride reasons; to put the virus in his place once and for all.

“Sugah, I’m sure after last time we came in swinging through the front door, he ain’t gonna let us stroll back in without a blood bath.” said Mouse.

Dot shook her head, a frown on her face. "I agree, it’s going to be more difficult this time if we attempt it and it’s too risky. We can't just charge in guns blazing. We need to be strategic about this."

By this point, AndrAIa had started to zone out, exhaustion creeping in. She was too tired to think straight, the call for sleep overwhelming. She leaned against the table, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. She..she just needed to rest for a moment.

AndrAIa's eyes slid shut as she leaned against the table, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. The others continued discussing their plans, their voices fading to a dull hum in the background as she allowed herself a moment of respite. And then, she’s pulled under.

She’s huddled in the corner of the cell, a book tightly held to her chest as she tries to protect it to no avail from the hands that rip it away. It’s a good book, she’s read it over and over since she got it. It’s a bit torn from constant use but in this place, it was all she had. A hope, a dream, that when she is an adult she will find it and be free.

“Where did you get this? ” a figure says, shrouded in shadow. The voice is familiar but an unwelcome familiarity and is feminine in nature. Each word drips with malice that AndrAIa knows is because she’s done something wrong.

She doesn’t tell her about the guard who had felt sorry for her and slipped it past the bars in the middle of the night. He was the only kind person in this place.

“I…I found it?” she offers weakly knowing, that it’s a terrible lie. Though the figure is shrouded, she knows that the woman is staring at her with hatred and malcontent.

“Lies!” The 0.8 year old screams, flinching as a hand strikes her cheek, the pain already forming into a bruise. Why did she have to always make her mad? She was trying to be good, she really was.

“You don’t get to have presents. Don’t forget, they’re dead because of you. You’re an abomination who deserves to be punished….Looks like I'll have to find new guards, such a shame. Cleaning up the blood will be such a bother.”

The woman pauses, noting the title of the book and then lets out a dark laugh.

“Oh, you poor, stupid thing. Just a child; Not even remotely of age and yet you think that the Goddess will bestow such a blessing on you one day? After what you’ve done? Foolish child.”

“But-”

“No excuses. Remember your purpose for being here. You are dangerous, and even if you were to find someone in adulthood, would it truly be fair to them? Do you want to subject them to the pain and suffering of being bound to a monster like you?”

“I a-am not a mOnStER!” she wails, curling in on herself.

“Yes, you are.”

“No!”

AndrAIa's eyes snap open, her entire body going rigid as the memory resurfaces. Fear and adrenaline lick through her; why now? On top of everything else going on, why was she thinking about that? She doesn’t want to remember. But then it hits her, the truth. Why IT had happened.

“DrAIa?”

She knows someone is calling out for her (she doesn’t know who, everything sounds staticky as she panics), hands reaching to touch her but it’s too much. The memory is burning into her, sending her into spiral that she hasn’t experienced since she escaped. “I need to get out of here“ is the only thing on her mind.

She bolts, pushing past figures left and right, blood pounding in her ears. Everything in her code says to run and to not stop; so that’s what she does. She doesn’t get far before something pommels her to the ground. Someone large and strong, pressing her against the floor, their hands pining her own.

She snarls and thrashes, unwilling to be contained. Other hands reach to touch her and it’s too much. In a quick motion, she detaches one of her arm fins out of reflex, causing it to go flying and it must hit someone because she hears a scream and then hands reactively releasing her. She is blind with panic and cannot think so when yet another hand grabs her hand, she turns and racks her nails across…a face? Yes, a face but she doesn’t know whose. The hand relents and she pushes further.

This time, nothing stops her and she runs and runs, and runs, flying past sprites and binomes alike, out of the base and into the streets of Mainframe, hair whipping in the wind, lungs burning with need to breath but she can’t breath, she can’t.

She’s always known she was a monster, so it suddenly makes sense why this happened.

This was her punishment; her penance for what she had done. There was no other answer. A monster for a monster.

She runs until she cannot breath anymore, falling over from exhaustion. Is she crying? She can’t tell anymore. She hears a thud but pays it no mind. Hands grab her once more and she thrashes, but unlike last time they do not let go; instead they wrap around her and pull her close. They feel familiar and wrong but so right. She relents, pushing her face against a chest that is metal and rough, marked by degradation and she breaks down for the first time in a long time and sobs. She sobs until she cannot feel anymore.

Next | Previous | Beginning

[reyneluvirith]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Flayn/Kronya Characters: Kronya (Fire Emblem), Flayn (Fire Emblem), Those who Slither in the Dark (Fire Emblem) Additional Tags: Angst, One-Sided Attraction, Feelings Realization, Denial of Feelings, Identity Issues, Bodysnatching is hard work, Kronya develops feelings for Flayn, and doesn't know what to do with them, Canon Compliant, POV Kronya, Unhappy Ending, Femslash February 2024 Summary:

After the two of them are rescued from the Death Knight's clutches, "Monica" bonds with Flayn as a ploy to get close to her target—Seteth. But as her affection for Flayn grows genuine, it jeopardizes her mission, and her place in Thales's plan.

Femslash February 2024 Prompt: Doomed by the Narrative

[nattyontherun]

The realization happened during one of those final few days in December. Yuri remembers a red-swathed park, air like a vacuum, seeping into the walkway, the wilted grass, the crowded, metal benches.

Katsuki was Yuuri, then.

Or, Yuri on Viktor and Katsuki in the months that follow Barcelona.

- 5.4k; one-shot

- angst, post-canon AU, one-sided pining

- katsuki yuuri/yuri plisetsky (one-sided), katsuki yuuri/viktor nikiforov, viktor nikiforov & yuri plisetsky, otabek atlin & yuri plisetsky

[servena-writes-fic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Narcos (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Horacio Carrillo/Javier Peña Characters: Javier Peña (Narcos), Horacio Carrillo, Steve Murphy (Narcos), Connie Murphy (Narcos) Additional Tags: Swimming Pools, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, One-Sided Attraction, Attraction, Missing Scene, Swimming, Summer Vacation, Javier Being Thirsty Summary:

What started out as a work trip to track down a narcotraficante in hiding has de facto turned into a mini vacation.

--------------------------------------------

In my defense: I was on vacation, and our hotel had a pool. Also my friend forced me to write this.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

~

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 

But what about your lives were normal?

[artistmarchalius]

Yet another catalog page! We’re breaking away from just using shades of red this time with Fem!Vox in outfits from the late 1950’s!

Of course I had to give her a more 50’s style head to match her clothes. Black and white television screen version is below the cut.

Fem!Alastor’s catalog page Rosie’s catalog page

I can’t resist historical accuracy, but the black and white screen wasn’t reading too well as Vox. Technically both versions are historically accurate since there were public colour television broadcasts in the mid 1950’s, they just weren’t as common as black and white ones. I wouldn’t think Hell would be as kind as to manifest Vox with the latest technology, plus I just like the idea of Vox having a black and white TV head phase.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

first meetings (bonus panel under the cut!!)

i didnt wanna add it to the main post bc it's a different size and it would mess up the format lmaooo

i think about these two a lot i think they could be really fun together in several ways. monty golf is right next to the daycare after all!!

[lordofdestructionm]

Reading Mordecai Heller as a repressed gay man

The tragic attraction

This is a full post based on my response to a great analysis by @sedgewick-gayble

Let me start by saying that if you read Mordecai as being totally asexual/aromantic and any affection he has for other characters to be entirely platonic that is entirely valid and I respect that

However as this response by Tracy makes clear on the topic of fans reading Mordecai as gay there is an intentional ambiguity about it. Being 28 at the time of the main story his "lifestyle is certainly asexual" up to this point, yet "being ace and being gay are not mutually exclusive things" and people sometimes "don't know themselves or understand their own motivations all that well"

This leaves the possibility open that Mordecai is actively repressing his natural desires and feelings

Mordecai's early life didn't exactly provide much time or opportunity for "self discovery", even by the usual standards of the less than tolerant and understanding world of the early 20th century

Being born into an impoverished family and having his father die very early in his life leaving him and his Mother and two younger sisters in dire straits, Mordecai had to get to work and assume adult responsibilities pretty damn early.

As Tracy says "selling newspapers wasn't going to cut it" and so using his natural talent with numbers Mordecai starts bookkeeping for the mob. Is it any wonder someone with that background would develop such a serious and rigidly buttoned up demeanour?

Since being forced to abandon his mother and two sisters at the start of the 1920s and flee New York, being picked up by Atlas's due to his habit of collecting useful strays, Mordecai had very few people he was close to in St Louis. With his generally anti-social personality and not only lack of interest but discomfort with any sort of flirting or romantic entanglements, that would be unlikely to change

Side note: Probaby coincidence but

There are only two people who seem to make it onto that exclusive list of people that "count" for Mordecai, who he cares about and are able to bring things to the surface he would normally keep hidden

Atlas to Mordecai is not just an employer, he is the man who saved his life, the man who moulded a desperate fearful shabby young stray into the sharp professional he is today, who took him under his wing and made him his protege. Filling the empty space his father left in his life. His grief and desperate hunt for those responsible for his death are his big motivation (the strain of which is slowly tearing him apart)

That connection is undertsandable

Much more surprising on the surface is the bond with the partner Atlas teamed him up with soon after his arrival, Viktor Vasko.

The assumption at the start would have been that while their skill sets might compliment each other in the field there would have been no warmth in their dynamic.

Certainly not on Mordecai's part as Viktor appears to be a sum total of many things Mordecai hates. Viktor is unshaven, relatively casual in his attire, speaks a broken English, and hates people chattering or “noise, noise, noise” as he calls it. Clashing hard with his obsession with good grooming, high quality tailoring, correct grammar etc. Indeed Mordecai doesn't hesitate to nag/criticize Viktor for these things

Yet at the same time Mordecai has far better chemistry with Viktor than with anyone else, able to banter and bicker with him in a way you rarely if ever see with others

Its why when he gets tailored clothes for the first time Viktor is the first person he wants to show off too. Its why the one time he is intoxicated Viktor (and his large physique) are his chosen topic of converation. Its why at Christmas/Hanuhhah he gives him the gift of a tie while claiming its just because of the big guys poor fashion sense and that its "embarassing to be seen with him" (even that justification makes him sound like a nagging girlfriend)

A smaller detail is that during their iconic chess playing in the side content, set during their days staking out the remote town of Defiance, Viktor is shown very casually winning the game much to Mordecai's visible distress

This is hilarious but could also be taken as a metaphor for Viktor (possibly without even realizing it) breaking through his defensive emotional barriers

Something Mordecai doesn't know how to handle or respond to

The animated short only adds fuel to the fire

During their dispute over strategy Mordecai moves his face so close to Viktors that he almost knocks his cap off his head. His eyes at one point even dart down towards his mouth

Sharp eyed Vikdecai fans have also noted that Mordecai seems on some level to want the two of them to match

The tie being the same colour could simpy be Mordecai giving Viktor one of his own ties because its a joke gift and he just grabbed it on a whim to tease Viktor about his poor fashion choices

But think about the matching suits at the New Years party for 1926

I mean, seriously, not only is it the exact same style of suit in the same blue-grey colour distinct from everyone else, but they are standing in the perfect spots to be symmetrical to each other. Something that we all know means a lot to this compulsive man

Mordecai must have known there was going to be a big group photo ahead of time and then carefully planned this

Got matching suits made to his and Viktors measurements

Then most impressively convinced/nagged Viktor into cooperating (he may have taken off the tie and rolled up the sleeves but hey him playing along at all is quite a compromise from Viktor "I hate dressing up" Vasko)

Mordecai is intent on making Viktor retire and get out of danger, and avoid a situation where he gets sent to kill him by Marigold because he knows he could NOT do it, and his cover and investigation into Atlas's death would be over

He is horrified that Viktor is still working at Lackadaisy (though he again has to hide how much he cares) and that he has gotten not only hurt again but hurt by Mordecai again (albeit this time indirectly by stealing the guns)

Can this be read as simply platonic comradere? Absolutely

But there is something so *intense* in the fact he was willing to resort to kneecapping him. Its an extreme and desperate act that could only result from intense emotions, seemingly out of character for someone who tries very hard to appear logical and controlled.

While Vikdecai is a very fun ship when imagining them as an actual bickering married couple, I have often said that a tragic one-sided on Mordecai's part version of Vikdecai is the one that fits closest and surprisingly well into the canon.

His nagging and complaining about Viktor in that context take on a Tsundere aspect, both to protect himself from being found out and maybe even try and convince himself the uncomfortable alien feelings aren't there. He not only doesn't want others looking too hard at his feeling he doesn't want to examine them himself all that much

There is a heartbreaking but appealing angst to the idea of this extremely repressed man having such feelings for the first time in his life for his straight best friend and NOT knowing how to handle that. Having to perform the balancing act of being around him so much as his partner but being painfully aware that he can't let anyone catch on, especially not Viktor himself, as it would likely destroy his bond with the only person in town other than Atlas he is close to.

Though tragically he did that anyway later via the kneecapping, which while about trying to keep Viktor safe, he may now looking back try and tell himself its actually somehow "better" for Viktor to hate him for that

Because the big guy now wrongly thinks the feeling is mutual and that Mordecai never really cared about him, which may be better than (what Mordecai assumes would be) disgust at his partners doomed more than platonic feelings

Because he sees those feelings and his situation as a sad perfectly structured joke life has played on him

[yuwuta]

Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito

teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))

“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.” 

You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears. 

Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. 

The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.” 

It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full. 

When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental. 

“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed. 

Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.” 

He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses. 

“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap. 

“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.” 

You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him. 

“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.” 

“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?” 

“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.” 

Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.

Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.” 

[its-queenofthesilence]

I Cannot Live Without My Soul! Part 5 of ?

Notes:

I live for Bob being AndrAIa's father figure, because lets be honest, I know there were those Imax films (I haven't watched them just read wiki articles on them) that show AndrAIa had an apartment as a child but who in their right mind would put a kid alone in an apartment? What, you think she can afford rent and groceries at like 10? Not only that, they had no idea who she was and what kind of threat she was so no doubt she was being watched by someone (and again, she was a kid.) until she was deemed safe to be around. I thought about Dot initially but I feel like she would not trust AndrAIa, this random kid who just attached her icon to her brothers, left her game and said "Lmao I am now your problem." So Bob took her in for what was supposed to be a temporary situation but she ended up staying with him up until the Web War incident.

Chapter 5: I'm Just Crazy For You

It’s been a long time since they’ve been like this, though it feels just like yesterday for Bob. Applying wet towelettes to her face to stop the bleeding, he looks down at her and all he can see is the little girl with big eyes sobbing in his arms, covered in blood after getting into her first fight in the school yard.

“They said I am dangerous and can’t be trusted! That I’m going to delete everyone!” she had sniveled. That had broken him because it was his fault even though he couldn't have possibly predicted that she would arrive in Mainframe right after the seminar.

“It’s fine, don’t you worry. You don’t need them, you have Enzo!” he had tried to say in an attempt to placate the girl but that only made her cry harder, to his panicked confusion.

He’s brought back to the present by a soft call of his name. By now, the bleeding has stopped and AndrAIa has pulled away, eyes looking away and hands in her lap. He eyes the area above her ears where her nails had found purchase. She won’t need stitches but it might scar. If she cared, she didn’t show it. Instead she leans back against the couch she had been led to, closing her eyes.

They stay that way for a few minutes in silence, AndrAIa with her eyes closed, lids occasionally twitching and Bob looking at her silently.

Finally he can’t take the quiet and needs to say something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Stop.” she hisses, not bothering to open her eyes and look at him. Bob freezes, unsure how to proceed.

“I’m just sitting here.” he protests. Her eyes snap open to fixate him with a piercing stare.

“You know what I’m talking about. Stop babying me.”

Bob swallowed hard, meeting her piercing gaze. "I'm not trying to baby you, AndrAIa. I'm just worried about you. What happened back there?"

She let out a heavy sigh, gaze softening ever so slightly. "You know what happened. I lost control. Again." Her claws flexed involuntarily as she spoke. "I can't keep doing this, Bob. I feel like I'm barely hanging on most days."

There is a moment of silence as the Guardian tries to carefully craft his words.

“I’m not talking about you getting into your own head again, Andi which is what I assumed happened, and you know it. I’m talking about what Mouse said happened between you and Megabyte.”

AndrAIa's jaw tightened visibly at the mention of Megabyte's name. She averted her gaze, staring down at her hands clenched in her lap.

"I don't want to talk about that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's in the past. I just want to move on."

"I know you do, but I'm worried about you. AndrAIa, this is not like you. I know you like to keep your secrets but you need to tell us so we, no, I can help you.”

“You can’t.” she said simply, looking away and trying to stop the tremor in her voice. It didn’t happen, it wasn’t real.

“How do you know?”

“I just do!” she snapped, standing up abruptly from the couch.

“AndrAI-” he began. “Just leave me alone!” she screamed, interrupting him. They locked eyes for a moment before he slowly rose from his kneeling position and dusted off his uniform, turning towards the doorway out of the living quarters.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push; you should sleep, you look tired.” She doesn’t watch him leave, instead she moves slowly from the couch to one of the many adjacent rooms that comprise the living quarters. She passes into a small room no bigger than her studio bathroom and collapses onto the military cot that takes up the majority of the room.

Eyes closed tightly, she fumbles for a moment, to find the lumpy pillow on the bed and drag it to her face, hoping to muffle out the sounds of her cries.

“It didn’t happen, it’s not real…”

She doesn’t sleep that night but she doesn’t let the exhaustion over take her. She pushes it down like everything else about herself she has pushed down and prepares for the new day.

Or at least she is trying.

She is in the bathroom of the living quarters, sitting on the floor of the shower, just letting the water hit her back and soak her skin. It feels good. She flexes her toes and takes note of the way the webbing between her toes seems to be growing back.

She will need to cut it again soon. She lays her head on her knees and breathes in the smell of the soap clinging to her skin; a florally scent that vaguely reminded her of home, before pulling her head up and squaring her shoulders.

Okay.

She could do this.

This is what she was good at. It was something she did all the time.

What was the harm in one more little white lie?

When everything about her was a lie?

No one had to know.

After all, this was just a small problem, she could fix this. All she had to do was lie to herself her friends.

Like loving Enzo.

It would be fine, and in a few cycles time, she was sure she would be able to convince herself it was all just a bad dream.

She took a breathe and then rose from the shower floor, reluctant to leave it but needing to. Stepping out of the shower, and looking into the mirror, she can’t help but note the bags under her eyes.

“Just one lie.” she whispered

“And then a thousand more.”

She takes her time dressing; usually she would go for her usual attire of skin tight scaled pants with a matching bralette and heeled hide boots but she feels small and exposed today.

She taps her icon, cycling through her options. A pair of pajamas, a sundress, a track suit, and…she pauses on an outfit, studying it in the mirror. The outfit is not much different than her usual outfit but it had a, what Enzo once described as, “Prissy” feel to it.

It had a similar pair of pants to her main outfit but over top there was a translucent skirt with ruffles. The bralette while still short, had a high neck with long bell sleeves decorated with all sorts of flowers and seashells. And instead of heeled boots, there were just a pair of sandals.

She wonders briefly why she doesn’t wear it before moving on to the next outfit.

Because Enzo doesn’t like it.

She eventually gives up and chooses to wear her regular attire with a hoodie thrown over. She still feels small and exposed but it will have to do.

Plastering a smile onto her face, she attempts to emulate the calm and collected demeanor she has perfected over the years.

She falters for a moment before remembering her mantra.

‘Conceal, don’t feel. Hide everything about yourself that makes you different.’

She murmurs it under her breath over and over until it is fact, and not just a lie. The weird girl with a troubled past dies away and is replaced by the calm, sexy woman she pretends to be.

‘Show time.’

After having Herr Doktor conduct a wide variety of tests, it quickly became clear that nothing out of the normal could be found. That left the virus scowling and temperamental as he destroyed various bits of furniture and items in anger, before eventually retreating to the temporary quarters set up for him.

Temporarily being that he expected the finest things out of life which is why more adequate accommodations were currently being constructed by his men. In the mean time, he had to make due and his head was muddled by thoughts and a growing weariness.

Despite what some people thought, he did in fact need to sleep. He was aware of the various tabloid news articles that would occasionally appear, speculating on the most inane of things about his life and bodily functions.

‘Megabyte spotted drinking Wine? Does the Virus need to urinate?’

And even though he had threatened to and had blown up a good portion of said tabloids, they would still be written. He was fairly certain the TV was behind it.

Still, He was not exempt from nature’s call, though he could usually push himself longer than a sprite or binome.

And yet, he could not sleep, as he tossed and turned. At first he thought it was maybe because the quarters weren’t to his standard, calling for his men to replace the sheets and blankets with higher quality items but it quickly became apparent what the issue was.

Her.

Every time he closed his eyes or allowed his mind to grow silent, some thought revolving around her would pop into his head, causing him to hiss and attempt to push the thoughts out to no avail.

“I wonder what she’s doing right now.”

“She should wear her hair up, it’s a shame to hide such a pretty neck.”

By three in the morning, he had given up and had stalked out of his quarters and woken Herr Doktor to make him a cup of tea, before settling into the large armchair that had been dragged out of Phongs former quarters and into his.

Clawed fingers around the mug, he scowled as he sipped slowly from the warm liquid. Usually it would help calm him on nights like this (not from AndrAIa, when he would agonize over another plan thwarted by Bob or Miss Matrix managing to out maneuver him in the stock market.)

He closed his eyes and immediately regretted it when an image of her beautiful tanned skin and vibrant blue hair entered his mind. Oh, the way her hair framed her face...it was maddening.

He growled and took another sip of the tea, wincing slightly as he noted the bitterness for the first time. Herr Doktor really needed to work on his brewing skills. But the taste was a welcome distraction from the thoughts plaguing him.

‘What was she doing? Was she thinking of him too?’

That was a thought that kept plaguing him the most; what was she doing right this nanosecond? It was like an itch that got worse every microminute that passed.

She had wormed her way under his code, and he felt an almost primal need to know her every move.

He set the mug down with a frustrated sigh, claws tapping against the ceramic. He needed to regain control, to focus on his plans for Mainframe. There was too much at stake to be distracted by a - by a sprite.

A very pretty sprite.

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes it would help. It didn’t. A thought occurred to him, pooling under his metal skin and making him both elated yet somehow dirty.

He had no doubt the group had regrouped at the backup base, so to speak, constructed after his forced departure from Mainframe. He knew from listening to Ms. Matrix prattle during a breakfast at her apartment, about honestly the most boring of things (Did she have any interests outside of being a command dot com and business owner? Even for someone like himself, programmed for wealth and domination, he had other hobbies beyond being a virus. It wouldn't hurt her to pick up a hobby, even knitting. It would make her more interesting to be around.) that it had a state of the art security system.

A security system he could probably tap into given he had control of the system, provided Mouse hadn’t taken the cameras offline.

Maybe he could just take a peek? Perhaps it would let him sleep if he could see her.

Quickly, Megabyte set to work, swiping his hand across the air to open a vid window and quickly tapped into the P.O.s resources so he could start the process of digging into the security cameras.

It was no easy task, as he quickly noted Mouse was smart enough to block access to most of the cameras. But the Principal’s Office was the heart of the city. It could override and control any security feed it wanted, even that of private citizens. So their little base was no match.

After what felt like cycles, he finally managed to gain access, the feed flickering to life on the screen before him.

Most of the cameras he realized had been physical disabled (e.i, likely broken or forcefully removed) as an added precaution but it looked like there were a few forgotten about or maybe just hidden enough that no one noticed them.

Where was she?

He tapped his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair, cycling through feeds before spotting her. He was surprised there were cameras in what looked to be living quarters (Either someone was a sexual deviant or they were paranoid to think it was necessary.)

Though there was no audio, he could tell from the way her face was planted in a pillow, and how her body shook as she curled up on the cot, that she was likely crying.

Megabyte's clawed fingers tightened around the arms of the chair as he watched her. Something flared in his chest, that feeling from before rearing it’s head. He didn’t like this, seeing her cry.

He leaned forward, gaze sullen as he watched her curl tighter around the lumpy pillow, as if trying to disappear into it. His whole being itched with need to reach through the feed and to comfort her.

Mood worse than before, he turned the feed off quickly as it came on and leaned back in the chair, trying to forget.

“Maybe I should call her…” he muttered. Immediately he snarled and got to his feet, leaving the quarters once more to bother a tired Herr Doktor who had just gotten back to sleep.

“Wake up! I need more tests ran at once! And this time, you better find something. Or else.” The doctor could only sigh and give as much of an enthusiastic Ja, Mein Herr” as he could right now. This was going to be a long day, he could already tell.

It was a perfect lie, so easy. And yet, this one burned more than the rest.

“So let me get this straight, this blue light you made, it was a response from your body from Megabyte trying to infect you?”

“Yes, my body detected the infection and put up a barrier as a way to protect me.”

“But part of it broke off from you and went into him.”

“That was a command from my body to convince him, albeit temporarily, to release me.”

She can see from the corner of her eyes the look Mouse and Bob are exchanging, but she doesn’t care. She knows they won’t buy it, at least initially.

She just needs Enzo to so he will back off and give her time to convince herself and by extension, the others of the lie.

She just needs to play the part.

“Uh huh.” said Mouse, looking her up and down with scrutiny. ‘Back off Mouse, stop prying.’ she thinks.

Matrix looks at her skeptically, brow furrowed and reaches out to take her hand in his. She hates how it feels. "I don't know, Andi. That sounds pretty far-fetched. Are you sure that's what happened?"

AndrAIa keeps her gaze steady, nodding firmly. "Ha, yup. I’m pretty sure I know my own body and how it works more than you.” the words come out sarcastic, and bitter, causing the group to pause and look at her with wide eyes, not used to her snark. She swallows the lump and plasters another fake smile on her lips.

“Don’t worry, I’m good. I’m good.”

Dot is the first one to say something.

“Well, you seem fine now so I have to believe you. Besides, our priority right now is getting our people out and away from Megabyte. We can’t afford any distractions.”

The others exchange a look but they seemed to have accepted what she said to be true, at least for now. She knows Bob or Mouse will try to prod her more but that’s fine. Lying is what she is good at, it was fInE.

“But, I think she realized, her web was starting coming undone.”

Next | Previous | Beginning

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[mitsvriii]

Attraction

TW’s: angst throughout half of the fic, self-doubting

Pairings: one sided! Obanai Iguro x reader, Obanai Iguro x Mitsuri Kanroji, Giyu Tomioka x reader

Word count: 1.11k (first 1k+ piece!)

A/N: Sorry if characters are ooc, this is my first time writing for them. All images are from the KnY manga.

Part 2

Tags: @imyourbrokenfridge

You knew that it was stupid. To have a crush on the Serpent Hashira of all things. He had the personality of a brick, in the kind words of Muichiro, and was only nice to Mitsuri much to your dismay. But that didn't seem to stop you from trying to get close to him.

You tried to give him bentos, tried to see if he wanted to spar with you, tried to see if he'd like to accompany you to go get some ramen...hell, you even tried to see if he wanted to sit next to you in the pillar meetings. Your tries were all in vain however, as the answer was always the same.

"Mitsuri already gave me one."

"Mitsuri and I are going to spar actually."

"Mitsuri and I already went to get ramen this morning."

"Mitsuri and I are sitting next to each other, as always. Of course you'd forget that."

No matter how many times you heard his answers, they always seemed to hurt. You never gave up though, you always ignored the sympathetic look Shinobu gave you when you went to ask her if you could give Obanai his medicine for his wounds. You ignored the look that Sanemi gave you whenever you chased after Iguro after a meeting. And poor Kyojuro having to grab your wrist and reminding you that Iguro was out with Mitsuri whenever you were searching for him.

It was pathetic to put it bluntly. Chasing after Iguro like he was the only man alive. Uzui himself had even told you it was a lost cause, but you didn't care. Because to you he was one of the prettiest people you've ever seen, his heterochromia eyes and his crow-colored hair that you knew had to be soft was just two of the features that you liked about him. If only they carried over to his personality, though.

You sighed as you shifted on the bench, trying to stop thinking about Iguro. God...why did you have to fall for the guy that already had his eyes set on someone else. And it didn't help that it was Mitsuri either. She was the perfect in your eyes, strong, sweet, beautiful, and social. Obanai must've thought so, too, or else he wouldn't act like a puppy around her.

You knew it wasn't worth it to confess, and if you did it for closure you're positive Obanai would only make you feel worse. He might not look like it at first glance, but his tongue is sharper than his katana and it cuts like it, too. If you were Mitsuri you'd confess faster than your heart could beat. But you weren't and that was the entire problem.

You thought of how everyone was telling you to stop throughout looks and actions the entire time, but you were too lovesick to see it. Kyojuro, Uzui, and Shinobu were persistent on telling you to stop. Muichiro, Samemi, and Gyomei could only sigh as they watched and listen to your conversations...even though you couldn't even call them that. They were just basic greetings and questions, nothing special.

Your brows furrowed in thought when one name didn't come to mind. Giyu didn't ever try to stop you, did he? No..he didn't. In fact, you don't think you've even seen him in the past couple of days. Did he really go away because of how you acted? You wouldn't put it past him, he once left the hashira meeting early because he had to sit next to Sanemi during it.

"Hi."

You snapped out of your thoughts and lifted your head. Speak of the devil, it was Giyu.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Oh um, no", you watched as he sat down, holding a bento in his hand. Was he here to comfort you or something?

"You weren't at lunch", Giyu spoke, turning to look at you, "So I brought this for you." He held out the bento for you to take, a pair of chopsticks on top on it, turning his head away shyly.

"Oh, thank you Tomioka-sama", you took the bento and chopsticks from his hands. Opening it you saw that it had your favorite dish in it. How did he know that? You don't remember telling him.

Giyu sat in silence as he watched you eat, scanning your face to see if you liked it. The way you sighed and relaxed seemed that you did. He smiled softly, although it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"Obanai's an idiot", he spoke, still looking at you.

"What?" you turned to look at him, placing the bento down onto your lap.

"He's an idiot, and has the personality of a brick", Giyu answered, a look of what seemed to be disgust on his face.

Oh, so that's where Muichiro got it from.

"Honestly don't know what Mitsuri sees in him, he's rude to everyone but her", Giyu continued, glancing back at you, "I can't believe he didn't pay any mind to you."

"What do you mean?" You were still confused, you didn't think yourself to be interesting in anyone's eyes.

Giyu sighed before looking at you, a slight pink dusting his cheeks, "You're beautiful and kind...I don't know how anyone couldn't be interested in you."

Your mouth parted into an "o" shape as you stared at Giyu. He wasn't kidding, he thought you were worth someone's time. And did he distance himself from you because he thought that you were interested in Obanai? It would be most likely.

"Tomioka-sama...do you like me?" Although your question was simple, it got Giyu red as he looked away. He nodded his head softly, still avoiding your gaze.

You both stayed silent. You couldn't believe that the stone-faced Water Hashira could get so flustered over someone. You broke the silence.

"How long?"

Giyu turned to look at you slightly, "Four months."

Your eyes widened. Four months? You hadn't even been crushing on Obanai for that long.

"Tomio-Giyu. I think I might like you too."

As bad as it sounded your attention was brought to Giyu first. Then as you adjusted to being the Frost Hashira Obanai came to catch your gaze. Maybe it was something about black-headed people that caught your attention.

"Would you...like to go get some ramen?...To see if you'd like to do it more often?" Giyu asked, his blush fading into a pink.

"I would love to Giyu", you replied with earnest.

Giyu gave a small smile as he got up and reached out his hand, inviting you to take it. And you took it as you both walked, both of your walks a little more energetic.

[curtain-caller]

So I'm looking forward to seeing all the interpretations and headcanons people make for The Lucky Contestant (who I will also join in calling them "Lucky"), but I'm curious... Okay, raise of hands, who else here also pictures Lucky as a crafty, greedy, overconfident, sassy, morally bankrupt little shit (affectionate)? Or is that just me? Idk I just get those vibes from their choices in the game (elaboration below)

Like... the implications that they were combing through hundreds of boxes to get a tape to join the show??? That they were counting the boxes and keeping track??? The fact that the only way to escape at the start is to run PAST the giant fucking beast mauling another contestant instead of running AWAY from it??? Not to mention them leaving the other remaining contestants behind in doing so.

The fact they didn't hesitate when Deputy Duck pecked at them, fucking grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against the wall??? That screamed "I'm not fucking around, are you going to cooperate or not?" kind of energy. The way they barely move when they come across the Real Frankie in front of the monitors??? Like, I know you can't move during that segment probably so you don't just miss the cutscene, but in-universe, Lucky has ample opportunity to turn and fucking run, and we know damn well their fear response isn't freeze, it's flight.

Just. The entire noob noob section. I feel like they flinched one time during that and that was when they caught the first one, but only because the explosion caught them off guard. That slowed them down for 1 second, maximum. Hell, I've seen a few players laugh at that part, I feel like Lucky would too. The fact that there's no objectives to even try to escape Frankie's great value Parkour Civilization??? Like, in a game like this, I'd expect at one point for there to be an attempt to just escape the game entirely once shit hit the fan, only for the protagonist to realize the only way out is to begrudgingly play along and win. But nope. Lucky came here for the money, and they're getting that money. AND THE FACT THEY DO??? AND THEY'RE THE FIRST EVER ONE TO DO SO??? The way they just strut back into Frankie's office after their 57th near-death experience and look him right in the eye??? The whole ending segment where they go for another season??? It's not framed at all like they were forced to go again, because the Real Frankie just offered his hand out, and when we cut back, Lucky is casually looking at the ratings screen while standing on top of a pile of corpses. There are open gaps on the floor they can be standing on instead! But nope, just chilling on top of some dead bodies. Obviously we can't tell what their facial expressions are with the mask on, but they don't seem afraid or even all that tense about their situation either. To me, Lucky is the type of guy to go "I'm not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks". Lucky is the type of guy to go "No, I'm taking the 5 million" only to sprint through that fucking door when Frankie whispers "Double or nothing". Lucky is the type of guy to walk past an old dead competitor and mutter "skill issue" under their breath. Lucky is the kind of guy to roll around in the glass money ball for enrichment like a hamster in a hamster ball. Lucky's the type of guy to keep going for season after season, for more and more money, until eventually they're not even doing it for the money anymore, relishing in the adrenaline rush and the glory instead. I just really love the idea that the reason why Lucky made it to the end so successfully was not only because of their skills and quick thinking, but because they also match Frankie's freak. Frankie was right: They need each other. They compliment each other. They enable each other in the worst ways possible. One wants to put the other through gradually more elaborate and deadly situations to increase ratings, and the other runs headfirst into those situations with the same energy as someone going cliff diving. It's like enrichment for them.

[dead-dove-orchid]

The grass is always greener..

Context ish, spoilers for my story that will hopefully be written at some point ♡