#and then suddenly the memories come back and you have to go back to that isolating loneliness again where the only person you're close to

[prentisssbxtch]

An experience.

summary: the woman you slept with the night before, ends up being your boss.

relationship: wanda x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, hits to smut, lil make out, uhh i think that’s it? bad writing <3

this is my first time writing a fanfic so… bear with me

also not proofread !!

part 2?

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

waking up confused and disoriented, i looked around my surroundings to see i was in my living room… naked.

i turned to see a naked woman’s back facing me as she lied passed out. i could see she had gorgeous red hair; which was going in every direction possible.

the color of her hair suddenly brought back memories or the night before:

the two of us stumbled through my apartment door before my back was pressed up against it. wanda’s lips never left mine as she gripped my waist, which definitely left bruises.

as her lips moved down towards my neck, i let out a soft moan, gripping her hair tightly between my fingers.

i let out a soft whimper as she nipped my neck. i could feel her lips turn up into a grin before i pulled her head back up to kiss me.

i suddenly snapped back to the present when i noticed the woman on my floor moving. wanda is her name, if i remember correctly.

i quickly pulled the blanket off her body to cover my own. i threw a pillow down to cover her ass, giving her at least some decency.

i wrapped the blanket around my body before standing as wanda began to full awaken.

i moved to stand behind my couch as i watch wanda wake up. she turned her head towards me after a moment of silence.

she has gorgeous eyes

“hey, um i have to be somewhere really soon, so if you wouldn’t mind, uh, leaving… that’d be great,” i said awkwardly, trying to avoid small talk.

“what don’t wanna go for round two?” was her only response, with the most cockiest smirk i’d ever seen.

i felt my eyes widen before quickly recovering, “as great as that sounds, i have somewhere to be. so i’m gonna go to my bathroom and take a shower, and when i come back, you’re going to be gone. okay?” i said as i slowly started backing away towards the bathroom.

she gave a small sigh before standing, completely nude. i quickly turned to give her privacy after being caught off guard.

“uh it was great meeting you…” i paused not wanting to get her name wrong.

“wanda” she said, filling in the blank, while she picked up her belongings.

“wanda,” i said repeating after her as i slowly turned to look back at her. “well, bye.”

was my final response as i turned to leave to the bathroom, again.

——

after my… eventful morning, i quickly rushed through my shower before putting on work appropriate clothes.

i was starting an internship at a law firm here in new york. it was one of the biggest companies in the city, Maximoff Industries.

the fancy name already had my scared, but the fact of a whole new building, which could make or break my career… i felt as if i could throw up at any moment.

i was luckily able to grab a taxi, before having a small panic attack in the car. i put my headphones in, turning on music to hopefully calm my nerves.

it didn’t.

as the taxi pulled up outside the building, i felt as if i was shitting bricks.

i turned to pay the driver before quickly exiting the car.

i slowly walked towards the building, trying to even my breathing as i neared the main entrance.

the second i walked through the door, i was greeted by marble floors with a gorgeous chandelier.

i walked to the front dest asking where to go. she told me all the interns were to go to the 5th floor, where we would meet Ms. Maximoff, the owner of the building.

i nodded my head before saying a quiet thank you. i moved towards the elevator, quickly pressing the button calling it to my floor.

once the doors opened i stepped in, pressing the button for the fifth floor before leaning against the back wall.

suddenly i began to realize i had no idea what any of the maximoffs looked like. they had a very house hold name, everyone knew of who they are. i thought of googling the name before realizing it was pretty pointless. i would be seeing her in person in just a few minutes.

as the elevator dinged, alerting me of my arrival to the fifth floor, i felt my anxiety suddenly jump even higher than before.

which i didn’t think was possible, but clearly it was.

i stepped out as i politely smiled at the people getting in. i saw another front desk for the floor, quickly making my way towards the woman sitting there. she quickly directed me towards a room off to the left, which already had several people sitting around it. i gave a small thank you before walking to the area.

i looked for an open seat before quickly sitting. as time passed more people began to walk into the room. once the clock on the wall turned to 2:30, two people walked into the room.

the first, a tall man with blond hair, slightly blocking the person behind them.

the person being him stepped to stand beside him, i cast a glance to the woman who stepped out. only for my jaw to drop once i realized who it was.

the woman from this morning. wanda.

the man cleared her throat, regaining my attention, “this will be the internship that could potentially make or break your future. you have all been picked on how well you did in school. do not think because you are here, you’re safe of future problems. we will not hesitate to let you go, if we see fit.”

i turned my attention back to the woman standing next to the man, seeing her already looking at me. i could tell from her expression, she too was surprised by my presence. within a blink, she looked completely neutral.

this was definitely going to be an experience.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

thank you for reading🫶🏻

if you want a part two lemme know!!

[euthymiya]

GOJO SATORU : ADVANTAGE

female reader ; mentions of alcohol and hooking up ; friends to lovers ; getting together (sort of) ; your typical clingy, annoying, and slightly shameless satoru

There is a boy in your bed.

That’s the first thing you notice when you wake up. The second thing is that his arms are curled around your waist. The third is that you’re both rather bare…which is the most mortifying part of it all. You have no recollection of what happened the night before to land you in such a scandalizing predicament—just that one drink turned into one too many.

So, with pretty limited options, you lay painfully still, trying to figure out what you should do. Should you leave? (No, this is your own home, after all). Should you wake him up? (That might make things a bit awkward, though). Should you pretend to sleep until he finally wakes up and leaves himself? (But that might take too long and your anxiety might kill you first). You weigh your options, still careful enough to stay still—at least, you try.

He suddenly pulls you closer, and you flinch against your will.

“Oh, you’re up!” He chirps instantly.

Everything stops as soon as you hear the voice. The world stops spinning. It might have even shifted from its tilted axis. Your blood runs cold. Your heart stops beating. You think maybe even for a moment, your soul may have left your body.

Satoru.

“Satoru?” You turn around quickly—and then, just as quickly, you give a small, panicked gasp and pull the blanket to cover your chest.

He eyes you in amusement as he causally says, “I already saw everything, so you don’t really need to bother with all that.”

How shameless. Which, of course, is pretty on brand for him. But still, how shameless.

“You’re unbelievable,” you hiss, glaring at him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You invited me here,” he grins. It’s too wide for your liking. You’d mistake it for smugness if you didn’t know him a tad bit better—no, it’s purely gleeful.

“I did not,” you sputter.

“Oh, but you did,” he all but purrs. And then, much to your horror, he takes on a mockingly high-pitched voice and replicates what you assume is your drunk, alcohol-induced invitation from the night before. “Where are you going, silly? Come inside. Oh Satoru ~ you feel so good. More, Satoru—please! Satoru, you—”

“I do not sound like that,” you screech, glaring at him as one hand still protectively holding the blanket over your chest while the other moves to give him a harsh shove.

He chuckles, flopping back against your mattress as he holds his arm out for you. “No point in bickering over the specifics now. Come here.”

“For what?”

“Weaponized incompetence only gets you so far,” he clicks his teeth, “come, come. We’re going to cuddle before—”

You cut him off firmly. “We are not cuddling. You are going to get dressed while I close my eyes and then you’re going to walk yourself out the door and go home.”

He pouts, giving you a dramatically pathetic look as he murmur, “after I showed you such a good time? Don’t you think that’s a little rude?”

You don’t even remember the time that he supposedly showed you—although, it’s pretty evident that it happened. Very evident, in fact. The clothes on the floor. The slight soreness of your body. The faint bite marks on his collarbone (did you really do that?) and the beginnings of scratches starting at his shoulders.

It’s all….so obvious. So painfully clear that somehow, after a series of events, you’ve fallen prey to the charms of a boy you happen to know pretty well. Unfortunately for you, you also happened to get to know him a little better than you would have liked—and you don’t even have any memory of it.

You glare at him for a moment before muttering, “you should not take advantage of a drunk girl.”

His mouth opens for a second—and it just stays like that. Speechless. It might be the first time you’ve seen him that way, too. (It’s a shame you don’t get to appreciate it more given the circumstances—not a lot of people can say they’ve witnessed Satoru of all people have nothing to say).

“Maybe you took advantage of a drunk guy,” he retorts, huffing, “you know how I get after a drink or two. How do you know you didn’t prey on me?”

“You’re in my bed!”

“Only because you insisted your place was closer!”

You sigh exasperatedly, lying back against your pillow as you rub your temple. He shuffles closer, inching little by little in a comically unsubtle manner until he’s pressed against your side. He’s warm. His skin is soft and something about it feels good enough that you don’t immediately flinch away.

“This is weird,” you whisper. Still, you don’t move. You can’t. It’s hard to pretend like it’s not sort of nice getting to feel Satoru like this—so close and near and yours.

(Is he yours? Maybe not. But getting to pretend for just a moment doesn’t feel all that wrong).

“It’s not so bad,” he murmurs, quietly into the room as he looks around, a foreignly soft look in his eyes.

Just to be annoying, you feign being confused and ask, “what, my interior design?”

“Us,” he purses his lips, glancing at you, unimpressed. “It’s not so bad when it’s just us.”

“I think the alcohol made your brain permanently damaged,” you hum.

He rolls his eyes, scoffing lightly as you try not to smile. Gently, in a way that’s careful and delicate that Satoru usually is not, he snakes an arm around you and pulls you close. And just as carefully, before you can scold him with an undignified scowl, he pulls the blanket up to make sure you stay covered.

You stare at him cautiously, and he leans closer.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sober right now. And hungover, so I don’t appreciate you adding to my headache.”

“Rude,” you gasp, shoving at his chest again. He grins, one arm still wrapped tightly around you as he keeps you nice and flush against him.

“What say you to a nice brunch without any alcohol—just you, me, and maybe some coffee.”

Your heart skips a beat. You force yourself to pretend like you hardly care as you shrug and say, “I’d say you’re just trying to ease your guilt for taking advantage of me.”

“Actually,” he says pointedly, “you have to say yes to ease your guilt of taking advantage of me.”

“I say it’s all about perspective,” you crack a grin.

“Well, to put it into perspective for you, we’re getting brunch,” he says firmly, burying his nose into your shoulder.

You ask cheekily, “it’s on you, right?”

“Oh, sure. I guess you’re already perfectly fine with taking advantage of me a second time, huh?”

One night stand with ur friend satoru but the sexual tension has always been so thick it’s easy to cut with a plastic knife

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: minor violence in the last sentence

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Simon might be a ghost on the battlefield, but you become the ghost on base.

Everyone’s gone. Your only company is your cat, and even Bubbles is starting to get sick of you. You can’t work, have nothing to contribute to the base, and it’s not like the military is going to recruit you for help. 

John and Kyle are gone for weeks. Five days into your abandonment, a nurse puts you out of your misery and recruits you as a medbay volunteer. You fetch supplies, talk to injured soldiers, and deliver food trays. It’s thankless work as most of the hospital occupants are too injured to talk or too caught up in memories of the battlefield. Occasionally, you can make someone smile, especially once you start bringing Bubbles in. Dogs might be favored for therapy animals, but in the grimness of the grey medbay, your cat does the trick. Those smiles keep you going, reminding you of the task force you’ve come to regard as yours. 

Volunteer work gives you time to think. To ponder John’s words and how, despite the idiocy of him just assuming you were together, they were what you’ve been wanting to hear. You’ve been straddling this line of jealousy and avoidance, wanting John to yourself while knowing you can’t want him at all. But is that really the case? If Johnny’s dating Simon, maybe it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be with John. You just need to approach the subject with caution, and give him time to warm up to it. He’s never met a boyfriend of yours, so you can’t show PDA off the bat. It might take a while, but optimism seeps through your veins.

It’s the feeling you can know so much without knowing anything at all. You have no clue how Johnny will react or if John will even want to date you now that you’ve hurt him. What will Simon and Kyle think? You’ve only met them a few times, but with how much Johnny trusts them, their acceptance means everything.

Of course, all of your plans include Johnny surviving whatever hell he’s in, and that realization quickly snuff the flames of your desire. You ride this seesaw of emotions for weeks, thinking of John one day and your brother the next. It doesn’t help you have no one to talk to except your cat and soldiers in comas. Your social life is really looking up.

Eventually, the nurses stop seeing you as a nuisance and more of a new fixture on base. It’s the nurses that keep medbay functioning, especially when doctors are focused on emergency patients. Someone finds out you’re Johnny’s brother and suddenly you’re hounded by two women asking if you know of one Kyle Garrick. They must be in that love triangle John mentioned. You warn them to not get attached, something someone should have warned you months ago.

Three weeks later, there’s an early morning knock at your door. It’s barely 5 am and even the sun isn’t awake yet. You trudge your way to the door, grabbing one of Johnny’s sweatshirts to battle the early morning cold. There’s a runty almost-kid at your door, shifting from foot to foot. He almost flinches when you open the door, head snapping up to look at your face, then back to his boots. It’s a bit unnerving, how scared he looks.

“Ms. Mactavish?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re wanted at the helipad. Captain Price is back.” You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, how the rookie in front of you almost jumps back in fear. “Did they say anything about Sergeant Mactavish? Soap or Ghost?” He shakes his head and your heart drops to your stomach. “No, ma’am. That’s all they told me. I’m here to walk you to the helipad.” You’re already moving, fumbling for the closest pair of shoes, shoving them on without socks. You close the door and wait for him to direct you. He stands there, almost twitching. “Well?” You adopt a forceful tone, reminiscent of your captain. The recruit jumps slightly, then starts walking down the hall, gesturing to you to follow. You’re speedwalking, leading even though you have no idea where you’re going. Finally, after minutes of silence, he brings you to a nondescript elevator. When you get inside, there’s only one button, an up arrow. You wring your hands as the elevator moves up, every worst possible fear coming to mind. What if John comes back empty-handed? Or with two body bags? They didn’t even mention Kyle. What if he got captured too? You shake the thoughts out, knowing you’ll get your answers in seconds.

The elevator stops, dinging as the doors open. It’s dark and cold outside, but you’re fixated on the doors of the helicopter in front of you. It’s opening and you’re moving, practically running across the roof. A figure with a shaved head is jumping out, the darkness hiding his face. You finally reach him and cry out in relief.

“Johnny!”

“M'eudail.”

His response is muffled by the hug you attack him with. He’s skinnier than usual, no longer built like a tank. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s here, arms wrapped around you. The tears fall unbidden and you think he’s crying too, something you’ve only seen him once at nine years old when he broke his arm climbing a tree. You rub your arms up and down his back, calming him like you would yourself. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He nods against you, tears slowing as you simply hold each other. “Thought you got the memo, you’re not allowed to leave me, Johnny.” You hate how long it takes for him to find a comeback as all he does is squeeze you tighter. “Won’t do it again, hen.”

You finally pull back to take a look at him. His usually bright eyes have dulled and his facial hair is shaved unevenly. And, like you originally thought, his mohawk is gone, replaced with a terrible buzzcut. You run your hands around his smooth head and hate the feel of it. “‘M sorry, Johnny. It’ll grow back.” He gives you a watery smile, hands finally relaxing their grip on you. He blinks back the remaining tears and you can see his soldier persona take over as his back straightens. You take one more moment to kiss his cheek, then pull back out of his grip. Over his shoulder, you spot Simon being handed a medical mask by Kyle. Once he puts it on, you approach him gratefully.

“Simon.” He scoops you up in a hug. “Bird.” You smile against his mask. “Thank you for keeping him safe.” He nods against you, releasing you from his grip. “Think he kept me alive, t’ be honest.” You grin and give him the same cheek kiss you gave Johnny.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You turn and let out a shout of relief. It’s Kyle. “You’re alive!” It’s another brotherly hug you dole out, squeezing him tightly. “Couldn’t leave ya alone, angel.” You giggle. “I’m glad you’re alive. I met some very lovely nurses while you were gone who had very interesting thoughts on you.” You can hear him audibly gulp for effect, a smirk written on his face when you pull out of his grip. “We’ve got things to discuss, then.” He winks and you wink back.

There’s a pair of eyes that have been staring at you for a while now. John’s the last out of the helicopter, conferring with the soldiers around him before saying his hellos. A doctor is checking out Johnny and Simon, Kyle talking to them in murmured tones. John walks toward you quietly, stopping silently. The words of the last conversation you had float between you, bitter from weeks of overthinking.

When John opens his arms for a hug, your senses go haywire. The noises of the task force, of your brother, fade to the background as John gathers you into his arms. He smells like gunpowder and blood, that familiar scent of pine and musk nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said.” You murmur it into the crook of his neck. John stiffens slightly, knowing you’re referring to your last conversation. Where you told him you couldn’t be together. 

“‘M sorry f’r not communicatin’.” You shake your head against him like you won’t accept his apology. His hand traces the path of your spine and digs into the nape of your neck, gripping the base of your hair like a leash. “What’re you sayin’, sweetheart?” The hug has gone on far too long for this to be normal, for you to be having this conversation wrapped in each other. You pull back slightly to see his face, arms still wrapped around him. “I can’t not be with you, John. We’ll figure everything else out.” He pulls you in for a kiss, a short and sweet one that wraps around you like a warm blanket. The moment is perfect.

Well, it is perfect, until you remember your brother standing a few meters away. Johnny, recent captive and loyal twin, is red in the face watching his sister kiss his captain. You turn your head to see Simon put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, an attempt to calm him that does not work. Johnny’s charging the two of you like an angry bull, huffing and mad. He reaches you in quick steps, hands balled in fists at his side.

“Didnae ken who ta yell at first.” His eyes drop to John’s hand in your hair and his nostrils flare. John’s hands drop, pushing you around him and away from your brother. “Guess it’s you, Cap.” And that’s when Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, known spitfire, punches his captain.

- 50 points to anyone who can find the taylor swift lyric. hint it’s from Red and it’s an underrated song imo.

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[questionablecuttlefish]

Okay Fine Let's Talk Timebomb and Season Two.

I do want to talk about this because I have a Lot of thoughts and feelings and it has been building up and building up, not only based on what's happening in other social spaces, but what people keep bringing into mine despite my best efforts to avoid it.

This isn't any kind of hatepost, I don't think I could hate Ekko or the ship if I tried, I just want to explain my very mixed feelings about the whole thing.

My likely-to-be-very unpopular take on Season Two's Timebomb romance is that it left me feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.

Not with what was in the show itself, I feel like that was perfect. Powder and Ekko sold me completely. They made me feel things. I even liked how Ekko and Jinx's story ended. I think it was beautiful, poignant, perfect...

...until.

'The Discourse' since, the way the fan culture has exploded around it, and particularly some of the creators' commentary on it, has made me sour on the whole thing.

It feels like I'm suddenly part of an increasingly small subset of people who saw what they did with S2 Timebomb and applied our media literacy to what was on our screens and got something very different to what the fandom consensus seems to be.

For context, I semi-shipped TB before this. Though I've always been Team Lightcannon, I had a lot of respect for timebomb, I understood it, I had read a few very good fics, I was just in the space of "Jinx has hurt Ekko too much for him to ever fully forgive her for murdering his friends, they might come to an understanding, and there will always be a silent undercurrent of love beneath the hurt, they may fight together on the same side again someday, but whatever bond they had as kids is broken and they can't go back, and both know it."

I respected, and still do, people who shipped them romantically, but I've always seen them as a broken childhood friendship being a much more interesting dynamic, and being hot for each other lessening that to an extent and not really adding anything to it.

All of his interactions with Jinx in season one are violent; she murders five Firelights point-blank in front of him in her intro scene, and Ekko reacts particularly upset to the pink-haired girl, Eve or Eva, whom Jinx shoots in the back. It's clear this isn't even the first time she's fought them. We don't know how many of Ekko's found family she's put on the Memorial Wall or how close he was with any of them.

Ekko is clearly convinced that "Powder" is gone, and the person who replaced her is a cold-blooded killer who can't be reasoned with. Leading to the Bridge confrontation, and this:

This is the first time Ekko catches a glimpse of "Powder", yes, but more importantly, this is the first moment he recognizes Jinx's humanity. He's hurting her, killing her, and he can't do it.

....and she knows he can't do it.

So, to save him the weight, she pulls a grenade, with the intent to kill them both, foreshadowing quite neatly where Ekko/Jinx (but not Ekko/Powder) is going to go in S2.

Fast forwarding from Season One here, Ekko disappears for 2/3rds of the second season, completely offscreen.

When we catch up with him he's woken up in the S2E7 AU; the Powder Timeline.

Here's where I start to get a little confused by the fandom take. Because, you know, I've seen enough Star Trek and Stargate and Supernatural and Batman the Animated Series and Quantum Leap to know exactly what this is.

This is the 'bottle episode', this is the 'Perfect World' trope, where the protagonists find themselves in an alternate universe - or trapped in a dream - or they've died or think they've died and this is their 'heaven' - where they have everything they ever wanted.

This is familiar storytelling and E2 follows a familiar pattern, the protagonist struggles to adapt to the surreal new circumstances, they are seduced by the illusion, particularly falling in love with someone in the Perfect World, but eventually, they start noticing something incongruous - something isn't quite right - (In this case, it's Vi's death, and Powder holding back her genius and hiding her grief to be support girl for others) - that reveals the Perfect World to be not as perfect as it seems.

And the hero has to choose to go home, because he realizes that this isn't real, it doesn't belong to him, he doesn't belong here.

Which is exactly what happens with Ekko in E7.

Which brings is to AU!Powder and Jinx.

And here's where I really start to struggle with the seeming consensus that the romance between Ekko/Powder automatically leads to Ekko/Jinx, like you can just transfer the one to the other.

I'm sorry, fam, I thought my basic media literacy was telling me that this girl:

Is not the same person as this girl:

....and I am not getting into any debate about "Jinx" vs "Powder" as identities within our current Jinx. I'm talking about Powder in the E7 AU.

AU!Powder is literally a different human being.

She may have been the same person up until the explosion in Jayce's laboratory, but from that fork in the timeline, she becomes a FUNDAMENTALLY different person to Jinx, shaped by different experiences, different relationships, different life events.

Powder's physicality with Ekko, as you can see in those GIFs, the casual intimacy, the clear affection, the way she touches him, looks at him, her awareness of him in her space, is so utterly opposite to the way Jinx interacts with him that if anything, it nailed home to me how savagely absent this kind of feeling is from his relationship with Jinx.

Powder loves Ekko. She leans on him, snuggles into him, touches his hands, dances with him, kisses him.

Jinx cares so little about him she barely makes eye contact and would casually kill him without blinking.

And I thought that was the point.

I really thought that was the whole point of E7. Being in the perfect world, getting his perfect love story with his perfect Powder, the girl Jinx could have been, but can never be, drove home for Ekko that his feelings for Jinx, both romantic and resentful, were tangled up in his illusions of "Powder", and it took living those illusions as a physical reality for Ekko to see his mistake.

To be true to himself, and true to her, Ekko had to let that go and go home.

To face his world's Jinx, and be there for her in her darkest moment, even if it meant giving up the love he'd found with Powder, a love that belonged to a different Ekko, for someone who could never love him back.

To me that was Ekko's most heroic moment, an act of selfless sacrifice. But that's what it was - a sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Season Two Jinx is not aware of any of this. The last time she saw Ekko was on the bridge where she nearly killed him, and for all we know she might have thought she succeeded.

She never talks about, thinks about, refers to, or even has scribble-nightmares about Ekko, not even once.

Season Two Jinx is, instead, having a love story of her own.

And Isha was and is a PUZZLE to me. Because she's more plot device than character, she isn't necessary except as a way to give Jinx a villain-to-hero arc and a way to reconnect to her humanity.

But she could have been Ekko.

If they really, really wanted us to have Timebomb Canon, instead of confining the entire arc to a bottle episode in an alternate timeline with a literally, physically different girl, they could easily have given all of Isha's considerable screentime to an Ekko and Jinx romance.

I'm sure Amanda Overton would have been on board with that. But that's not what we got. It's almost like reading two different fix-it-fanfics for the same character, put into the same show and running in parallel.

I'm not crazy, this is what's happening for Ekko in s2;

While this is happening for Jinx at the same time.

But Jinx's love story, too, ends with a tragic sacrifice.

And here's where the two stories finally intersect.

When Jinx is in her darkest moment, her absolute rock bottom, Ekko comes back into her life, a miracle, impossible, a Boy Savior.

But she's still ready to kill him.

Because she didn't dance with Ekko. She didn't invent a time machine with him. She didn't sit and watch the city lights with him and share a tender kiss and a heartfelt gift.

That was Powder.

Jinx and Ekko are resuming right where they left off on the bridge, right back to "I pull this pin and we both blow up".

They've both loved and lost, but their stories are absolutely unknown to each other. Ekko Doesn't Know About Isha. Jinx Doesn't Know About Powder.

It's only when Jinx (a genius, a reminder here) sees monkeys of her own design inside the Z-drive - recognizes her own handiwork, but knows SHE didn't make those - that, I think, sheer curiosity stirs her out of her darkness.

She has to know what that was about. She hesitates, just long enough for Ekko to speak. And, though offscreen, he tells her his story, and maybe she tells him hers.

And it's enough, just enough, to set Jinx back on her Redemption Arc, to become the hero Isha always saw in her.

Maybe even the hero Vi and Ekko saw in her, too. Her new costume is full of references to all of the people in her life who never gave up on her.

(side note, the yellow stars and crowns puzzle me, though - they're quite prominent, but who are THEY for? Isha? Maybe? Yellow isn't a color associated with anyone in Jinx's life, but that crown's identical to the one she scribbled on Demacia in Fortiche's map, is... this a very subtle future Lightcannon tease? Nah. I'm not that crazy.)

I mean her costume is also almost literally both a Fishbones and a Fiddlesticks cosplay, with her hair as Fiddle's tongue, so take from that what you will.

It's clear Jinx and Ekko war painted each other for the battle, but the Firelights are also similarly painted up, and (with Linke even confirming this) there really wasn't time to develop anything else, guys.

And I am, honestly, fundamentally angry at anyone who would suggest that, even if she'd been in any space to want it, our boy Ekko, one of the most genuinely good men in recent fiction let alone in Arcane, would take advantage of a girl he just talked out of suicide.

Moving on. During the battle, Ekko is knocked out and lying not far from Jinx. She doesn't even look at him, she leaps up to defend Vi instead.

And that's their final interaction on the show.

Instead of returning to Ekko, Jinx chooses one final act of sacrifice.

Ekko's final shot of the show is this.

He's sitting, alone, burning a mourning paper, where he sat with AU!Powder - where he and AU!Powder kissed - a place that has no significance to himself and Jinx, whatsoever.

It's little wonder who he's thinking about here, and which name he's burning on that paper. The girl he truly loved and lost.

For all he knows, Jinx is dead. But it's not only her he's mourning.

Or maybe he does know, or suspect, she's alive.

But either way, he's making one final act of sacrifice, too, with that paper burning into the breeze.

He's letting her go.

He's choosing his own story.

He's staying where he belongs.

Jinx may have become a symbol of the revolution, but it's Ekko who is, and always will be, the true hero of Zaun.

And this is Jinx's final shot.

Because let's face it, we all know she's on that airship.

She's "breaking the cycle". She's "walking away". She knows that Jinx has left too many scars on the people she still loves - on Vi, on Ekko, on the cities of Piltover and Zaun - for her to pick up the pieces.

She knows that if she's going to find out what "Jinx" might stand for now, she has to go very far away from everything and everyone. She has to leave it all behind and find something new.

Maybe even someone new?

And ultimately, that's why I feel the Timebomb we got was perfect, they shouldn't touch it, they shouldn't try to force it to be "Endgame", not because it couldn't have worked, but because that's the opposite of the story they told.

For the rest of my analysis, lol, this got a bit long but i have FEELINGS.

Now, I'm not saying I wouldn't buy Jinx and Ekko as a love story if they had actually told that love story. But they didn't. It had no screen time. They have less interactions in S2, maybe even in both seasons added up, than Vi and Loris. Let that sink in a bit.

We know it's Amanda's favorite ship, so she may have intended more, and may even actually give us all more at some point, but please, dear god, let's stop pretending they fucked or kissed or even held hands offscreen.

That's honestly a bit insulting to both of these characters, to insist hell or high water that this very important milestone in their relationship happened, but they just didn't even bother to depict it. That an entire love story (because it would be a whole one, remember, Ekko and Powder had a romance but Jinx did not experience any of that, she and Ekko are back at Square One) would just be cut for time.

They both deserve better than that.

Let's stop pretending there was some grand, horny, Forever Love story with 60 minutes of cut footage, all of it timebomb content, somehow left on the cutting room floor of an animated show where every single frame has to be deliberately hand painted.

Because if in some insane universe they had written, storyboarded, voice acted and animated an entire 60 minute additional timebomb storyline and then cut it from the show, that would itself be a searing indictment of the quality of the storytelling in that imagined arc, but that's not what happened. Anyone who knows how filmmaking works would shoot this one down, and the showrunners already have, so let's leave it behind.

I know Timebomb blew up hard, and I get it, but what we got on the screen is not confirmation that there is any relationship at all between Ekko and Current Timeline Jinx. If anything, Ekko and Powder's beautiful romance only highlighted the tragic 'never to be' of Ekko and Jinx.

And it's absolutely fine to look at the art book, look at the creator comments, and imagine what could have been. Draw the fan art, write the fanfic, imagine the what-ifs and the fix-its, those are all beautiful and valid expressions and deserve their space.

But don't go insisting it's "the canon" and going after the shippers of other ships for these characters as "not canon" or somehow offensive for existing, especially toward one particular ship that, yes, has been around much longer than timebomb, is uncool.

I think this is mostly people who are New From Arcane, it's Baby's First Ship and they don't know how to share space. The timebomb fans I knew pre-season two didn't do this, at least not often enough for me to notice or care.

But I'll just say to them, if a Timebomb follow up happens and they actually tell a good love story for Ekko and Jinx, I will accept it. Grudgingly, because I think Lux/Jinx is an untold, untapped story full of incredible character dynamics that would complete Jinx's story in ways that as much as I love Ekko, he's too tied to her past, he can't.

But I love Ekko, and I love Jinx, and I will accept it.

But I'll also say to them, if the followup doesn't eventuate, if things take a turn they don't expect, if Jinx's airship is heading for Demacia, maybe they'll have to experience just a taste of what it's been like for Lightcannon fans for ten long years.

And maybe that's healthy. Maybe that's okay. Maybe our endgames don't need to be 'canon' to have value and that's a lesson we should learn.

Maybe there's a new Light on her horizon, and that's okay too. Maybe Ekko won't be alone forever. Don't forget - until Arcane - his story had nothing to do with Jinx, and there was a whole lot of it.

More with the Firelights, maybe bring in the original Lost Children of Zaun from his old stories, his inventions, his parents, all could yet be in his future. Who knows? He might find a way back to AU!Powder - or she might rebuild what they worked on together, and come to him, no matter what butterfly effects that could set in motion...

But if Jinx is heading for a Light on her horizon, maybe Ekko might Explore some of his possibilities. Find a new Spark of connection. Just saying. Jinx isn't his only ship, either 😌

And it is okay for people to move on, and let go. Maybe, for two characters whose themes are letting go of the past, living in the moment, redefining their identities, and moving on, that's what their story should be.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (10)

Originally posted on my old account. Uploading twice weekly :)

The following morning I woke up to a pounding headache, Keira sleeping peacefully next to me. My eyes hurt, a tell tale sign that I’ve been crying. My suspicions were confirmed when I made my way to the bathroom. Red, swollen eyes. The memories were a little fuzzy, I remember dancing with Misa and Alba, Alexia pulling me outside, she was mad? I remember she said she loved me. 

Alexia loved me. I loved Alexia. 

As I paced back and forth in the bedroom, unable to stop because my brain was going so fast, Keira slowly woke up. 

“Milly what are you doing? What time is it?”

“Tell me she didn’t say she loved me outside the club last night?” 

Signing as Keira looked at her phone “it’s only 6am, please come back to bed. It’s too early for this.”

“No no no no. Keira this can not be happening. This is bad. Very very bad. I shouldn’t have come back.” 

“Hey Mil. Stop. You love her. You always have, so what’s the problem?” 

“The problem? The problem is that I can’t love her Keira! It’s not a fucking option. I need to go. “ 

“Milly wait!” keira got up as fast as she could. But it was too late. I was gone, out the door. I couldn’t go home, that was the first place she would go. The gym would be the next, the beach would be the last placed she go, especially considering it was raining now. 

After I had left, Keira rang Lucy panicking. Lucy rang Ona, who rang Claudia, who rang Patri, Patri rang Mapi and Mapi rang Alexia. It’s safe to say everyone started to panic. Thinking I was running away again, the thought was there but I couldn’t do that to the team. 

Surfing was freeing for me. Sitting on the board, pretty far out gave me a chance to think without anyone around. I loved Alexia, but this didn’t feel right. None of this felt right. I had always dreamed about some fairytale ending for us but it never happened. Maybe if I had listened to her and not married Emily, things would be different. We only lasted a month, does that even count as being married? I wasn’t particularly interested in catching the waves, just wanted to think without anyone around to disturb me. As I made my way back to land, I noticed her. Drenched, sitting in the wet sand. 

“Everyone’s looking for you.” 

“Well tell them to stop. I’m not lost.” My tone was harsh, I didn’t mean for it to be. Not really. 

“Mil, we need to talk about it.” 

“Talk about what Alexia? You being jealous last night? You and Olga breaking up? You being in love with me? Me being in love with you? Pick a subject and I’ll talk.” 

“You love me back?” Whispering, She looked at me wide eyed, almost as if I’d take it back. I would. 

“Pick a different one.” 

“No. I want to talk about the fact that you’re in love with me too.” 

“I’m not doing this.” I tried to walk away. I couldn’t do this. 

“Don’t walk away from me Amelia!” I stopped. Not turning around to look at her, I couldn’t. “Please stop running away from me Mil.” The last few words came out broken. She was crying. 

“Why can’t you just let me love you? That’s all I want Mil!” 

“Because every time you say that all I see is her! I could’ve let you love me before Emily! But I didn’t. Instead I’m the reason she’s dead and the reason your heart was broken. All I see when I look at you is the pain and destruction I’ve caused but you look at me like I put the stars in the sky. So full of love and care. I can’t do that Alexia. It’s too much.” 

Suddenly arms wrap around me, not alexia’s because she’s standing in front of me. “Hija, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Eli. The mother I never had. 

“It’s too much Eli please.” 

“Come. I will take you home. Alexia, let’s go please.” 

“Mami no.” 

“Now Alexia.” 

Alba was waiting at my apartment when we arrived. It was all too much. Alexia’s family treated me like their own, despite the pain I’ve caused, the devastation I’ve caused. They were soft, too soft. 

I headed straight for the shower. Ignoring the way Alba looked at me, or the way Eli called out to me. I needed to be alone. This isnt what I wanted to have happened. I hoped that after all this time Alexia wouldn’t love me and I could pretend to not love her. 

The shower was scolding hot. Even through my clothes which I didn’t bother to take off. I thought it would make me feel better, feel something. I didn’t realise how much time had passed until Alba came in. 

“Mil? Are you okay?” Silence. “Milly?” No response. “Amelia I’m coming in.” The alarm in her voice got the attention of Eli and Alexia. 

“Milly can you hear me? Fuck this water is boiling.” Alba tried turning it off but it was too hot. 

“Move Alba. Get me a towel.” Alexia turned off the water, taking the towel from her sister. “Can you get me some clothes for her and give us some space please?” Without even realising it, Ale had picked me up and taken me to the counter. 

“I’m going to undress you now, okay? If you need me to stop tell me and I’ll stop straight away.” All I could muster was a nod. 

There was nothing sexual about it. She moved as quickly and carefully as she could. Removing my shirt and bather top, drying me then putting an old oversized shirt on, carefully lifting me up to remove my skirt and bather bottoms. I flinched when she did that, hoping she didn’t notice but she did. 

“Do you need me to stop?” She pulled away quickly, noticing my eyes screwed shut. Shaking my head, she continued. She quickly pulled my underwear up, then lifted me up and carried me to bed. As she was about to leave I stopped her. 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” I begged. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

She was right back, putting a water bottle on my side, plugging my phone into the charge, then making her way to the other side. Climbing in and pulling me onto her chest. That’s how I fell asleep. The exhaustion of what happened last night and today hitting me. 

[fieldofdaisiies]

A Bargain pt. 2

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 4,5k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes like the loss of eyesight due to fire. thank you so much for beta reading @moonlightazriel 💛 here you can find part one (I'm sorry it took me forever to write the second part)

Heart rapidly thrumming against your ribcage, you follow the shadowsinger, listening to every step you take, your fingers not once lifting from the railing. 

Every sound, every scent, settles into you, making you hyper aware of your surroundings. Except for light and darkness there’s nothing your eyes can tell you, so relying on your other senses is what keeps you alive.

"We‘re almost there." Azriel’s low voice sounds in front of you but he seems closer now, no longer and having stopped so you could catch up with him. 

It‘s time now for the  doubts to come creeping into your mind at full force, making your palms grow damp and cold sweat break out on the back of your mind.

You know Gwyn will be here and you are safe, but you haven’t left the library in… you haven’t since you arrived here all those years ago.

Speaking of Gwyn—you feel her presence immediately when the first strays of sunlight fall upon you, warming your skin and making an involuntary smile appear on your lips. It has been so long without feeling sunlight on your skin.

"You came," Gwyn’s voice sounds beside you as her fingers gently take your hand into hers, and she guides you along. "I‘m so glad you did, although a little sour that it took Azriel to convince you and that I wasn’t persuasive enough." She laughs, a playful note in her beautiful voice that makes you join in.

Listening to her and the other priestesses sing has cured many moments where the dark memories threatened to reach the surface.

You allow her to guide you to a place where more people are, your mind tells you that, feeling the presence of at least ten other people. The other priestesses who begin to silently greet you, the warmth and kindness in their voice palpable.

"I‘m Nesta Archeron," the last female voice tells you. "I‘m Gwyn‘s friend and—"

"You won the Bloodrite alongside her. I have heard all the stories about you! It‘s a pleasure to meet you, Nesta Archeron." You are scared the excitement in your voice will scare her off or make her believe that you are strange, and for the first time in a long while you are happy you can’t see her expression. But she takes you by surprise, gently taking your hand into hers, the one Gwyn formerly was holding. 

"And I‘ve heard stories about you, Y/N Y/L/N. It‘s my pleasure to meet you." She is smiling, you can feel it and mirror her expression.

As you let all the sounds, the scents, the noises settle into you, you slowly find your grounding in the now new surroundings. You haven’t been here before, you know this, but somehow it is still part of your home. Both Gwyn and Azriel have explained exactly where you would be going and what it looked like — a training field for the Valkyries and the Illyrians.

A male voice, loud and commanding, shakes you out of your thoughts. It comes from somewhere further away and you remember it. You have heard it somewhere before. It‘s Cassian, the general of the Illyrian armies and Nesta Archeron‘s mate talking. 

He is giving some instructions that all make no sense to you before he claps his hands and people begin to move around you, shuffling into probably every direction. 

You can feel how your throat clogs up, making it hard to breathe and swallow.

Suddenly the doubts come back, making the back of your mouth ache.

Leave! Go back to the Library! a voice loudly says in your mind, making you want to move but your feet are you rooted to the ground. It feels like something is keeping you here, making it impossible for you to lift your feet—like an invisible pull that wants you to stay.

You feel like everyone is rushing around you, away from you, toward you, you don’t know. Your head starts to spin, fingers curling towards your palms in an attempt to steady yourself. It fails until—

A soft brush, featherlight and barely palpable makes the skin of you upper arm tingle. Azriel’s shadows, undoubtedly. 

He is close as well, you feel his presence before you hear his voice. 

"Are you alright?"

"I am!" 

He can sense the lie, you know it. You can feel it. He moves closer, stepping into you and his hand lands on your elbow. "Tell me, do you want to return?"

You want to go back down to the Library, but at the same time you also want to prove to yourself that you are stronger. That you won’t just give up. You can do this, you can face whatever Azriel has planned for you. You are a fighter.

You want to be strong. You can be strong.

"No…no, no I don’t," you splutter, knowing your voice is shaking as much as your knees. "I want to stay and try out what you have planned for me … remember we have a bargain." You lift your arm, the one he is not holding, wiggling it.

"I don’t want you to do something you are not comfortable with just because—"

"What’s my first task?" You swallow your worries, your doubts, the fear, amd now step even closer. There is really no distance between the two of you but the closer you are, the easier it is for you to read people. Your palm lands flat on his chest, feeling the fabric of his Illyrian leathers and the solid muscles beneath.

"You are here, Azriel, and so is Gwyn. You promised to keep me safe and so did Gwyn. I know I‘m protected and nothing will happen to me." You know and really want to believe it, but it is hard, and not yet completely possible. But that's alright, as long as Azriel believes you that you are alright. 

Additionally, you know a bit of nervousness is always healthy, without it you would do the most reckless things without a second thought.

At first you start with some grounding exercises—Gwyn helps you with them, while the Illyrians train with the other priestesses, but you can always feel a certain shadowsinger’s presence close to you. Taking off your shoes, you can feel the soft grass beneath your feet when you start on some grounding exercises. You‘re mostly doing these exercises for balanace in the first days of training and they really help — in all honesty, you start to like doing them more and more; your self-confidence grows.

You have been so afraid, so terrified of going outside, but slowly the tension starts to ease and you realise that your life has so much to offer that you would have missed had you stayed in the Library forever. 

You are very grateful for Azriel, and Gwyn. Without them you would have never gone this step. 

Especially without Azriel, and the bargain you made. 

Absently, your hand reaches for your upper arm, traces over the place where you think the tattoo is. Azriel’s fingers on your skin still linger phantom touch, and tell you where your bargain tattoo is. 

A smile appears on your lips as you allow yourself to enjoy the moment, until—

"I think we should go a step further today." Azriel‘s ever so gently takes yours into his, holding on lightly. "Of course, only if you want to."

"What does it include?" you find yourself asking, tipping your head back slightly so the sun can warm your skin again.

You may not be able to see anymore, but you can still feel everything and you will take pleasure in it.

"I want you to try out something, show you how good your balance already is. I want you to try and walk over a beam."

A beam!

"How far up is it?" The question immediately bursts from you.

You hear a small laugh from him before he answers. "Not that high and I‘ll always be by your side. Just like my shadows."

Drawing in a deep inhale and letting it fill your lungs, you decide to trust him. He won’t  let you fall, or get hurt. You know this.

"I won’t let you fall, Y/N.“ He squeezes your hand. "I would never let you fall.“

You want to trust him, you really do, but for a moment your doubts gain the upper hand. It is a huge step, and you need a moment to consider it. 

Inhaling deeply, you listen into yourself. Into your heart, the soft thrumming of it telling you that you don’t need to be afraid. Azriel is here for you, he will make sure you are alright no matter what.

So, you allow him to guide you over to where the beam is, a soft wind caresses your face as Azriel helps you climb up a few steps.

The wood is smooth beneath your bare feat, cool, when you take your first step onto it, not once letting go off Azriel’s hand. 

"Are you ready?“ the shadow singer asks beside you and you dip your chin, your jaw set so tightly you’re unable to answer. 

With another deep inhale, you once again steady your breathing, but the faint creak of the wood beneath your foot sends a jolt of unease through you.

Another cool breeze brushes your face, and then you take a step forward, now both your feet resting on the beam, one after the other.

Another step forward. Another brush of the cool breeze against your face. Your breath catches as you suddenly see a bright light in your vision and you’re taking right back to the fateful day. 

Fire. Nothing but unbearable heat and blinding light, like icy spikes piercing your skin. The brightness was overwhelming until everything went dark. Blank. Plain. No colour. No shape. No figure. Only darkness. And deafening silence.

Your steps waver, too slow, too uncertain, and your body starts to tremble. You loose your footing, slip, your weight tilts and your balance is lost. 

Panic spikes when you start to feel how you are falling and— 

Strong hands catch you. Your body is pressed against a solid chest as quick breaths escape your lips, your demeanour shattering, laying the panic within you bare.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Azriel says against the top of your head, his voice steady and low, but you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. 

Your breath hitches and you bury your face in his shirt, hoping that listening to the soft thrumming of his heart will calm your own. 

But it doesn’t help. The memories are back, the fear you felt when you stood atop the beam brought back memories you never wanted to revisit. Hot tears spring to your eyes and sobs rip itself free, leaving your trembling lips. 

“Azriel, I’m sorry,“ you whisper and pull away. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Frustration coils within your stomach, and you step back lifting your hands to cover your face.

He reaches for you, however, tugging your hands away from your face and pulling you into him again. And you let him to it, let him embrace you in his warm, tight hold. 

“Don’t apologise. Never.“ You can feel him rest his cheek against the top of your head. “It was my fault. It was too soon, we should have given it more time.“

You don’t want him to blame himself or feel bad about the moment. You don’t even want to cry, it feels silly and excessive, but you can’t stop it. There’re so many unresolved emotions within you that you kept hidden and locked away for so long, sometimes it is hard to just stop them from rising to the surface and shattering through the shell.  

As your tears start to become less, and then sobs grow quieter, you can hear footsteps coming closer. 

A soft palm lands on your lower back and then in a calm voice, Gwyn says, “You’re allowed to be scared.“

You pull away from Azriel, so you can turn to her.

“You’re allowed to be scared, but today you must also be proud. About everything you’ve done, you’ve achieved in such a short time. I’ve fallen of the beam so many times even though I still have my eye-sight. You walked almost half of it without using your eyes. Y/N, when you go to bed tonight, I want you to be proud of yourself for what you have managed to do today. Don’t let the fear win the upper hand. Never!“

>>>>>>>

"You shouldn’t think about what happened today," Azriel’s deep voice sounds over the great expanse of the rooftop training area. It brushes your goosebumps-covered skin and you turn to him.

You‘ve heard him approach a while ago, his footsteps something you remembered very soon.

"I meant what I said, you shouldn’t be proud of yourself and look forward to doing better next time."

He is close then, so close you can feel the warmth of his body. 

"My step-brothers poured oil over my hands and set them on fire. I have never felt greater physical pain than that day. I grew in an abusive household with a step-mother who would delight in locking me into the basement for hours, sometimes days. 

"I remember often thinking that my life would end right there and then, that I didn’t have an ounce of happiness within me and that I would never be able to live a normal life."

He swallows roughly and the first tears fall from your eyes as his words, his revelation, sinks into you.

"And then I met Cass and Rhys. They showed me how good life can be, what love is and … that no matter what I should never give up. They showed me what I am capable of, the things I could do. They showed me my strength and I learned to understand it. I wanted to be strong, never weak again, never vulnerable again. I was strong and I was ready to prove it to everyone, especially myself."

Without a further thought, you reach for his hand, taking it gently into yours and squeezing softly. "Azriel…" 

The words die down in your throat. After everything he has revealed, you find it hard to answer him.

Gods, the things he has experienced… 

Your heart is crying for him too, loud and unyielding and a shiver courses through you—not from the cold of the evening wind, but because you can feel his pain.

"I don’t ever want to be weak again either," you whisper after a moment of silence, and close your burning eyes.

"What happened? What happened that day?" Azriel‘s voice is hoarse, as if he struggles to speak too.

"I was an apprentice at a locksmith near Sangravah. When the Hybern soldiers came they destroyed everything in their way." You need a moment to breathe as slowly the memories return—one after the other, and each more painful. 

"I don’t exactly remember what happened, but one male came close to me, turned to the fire I had just lit, put a torch in it and set the whole place on fire. I wanted to run, but couldn’t escape fast enough. The windows burst and the glass splinterd …"

You know he can imagine the rest.

"I‘m so sorry." His hand trembles on yours and you can hear the tears in his voice. 

"I was just lying there, everything hurt. I was at my lowest point until Morrigan found me."

You can hear him swallow, roughly, before clearing his throat.

"Do you trust me when I tell you that after our bargain is completed you will no longer feel weak."

"I trust you." And you really do. It‘s no lie. You trust him and you know yourself that the training, all the exercises you do for balance and to sharpen your focus, are beneficial for you and your wellbeing.

You blow out a long breath, tipping your head back, your eyes facing the sky above you, and despite not being able to see you know it is covered in a million stars.

"Speaking of the bargain," you begin and a sheepish smile forms on your lips. "You haven‘t completed your task yet."

"You really want me to sing for you?" He chuckles softly.

"It‘s part of the bargain, and you know what happens when you don’t fulfill your part." The smile turns into a grin.

"Well, so shall be it." Azriel tugs at your hand and together you sit down on the ground, so close your shoulder is resting against his. 

Do you think I'd give upThat this might've shook the love from meOr that I was on the brink?How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?Now that it's doneThere's not one thing that I would changeMy life was a storm, since I was bornHow could I fear any hurricane?If someone asked me at the endI'll tell them put me back in itDarling, I would do it again, ah, ahIf I could hold you for a minuteDarling, I'd go through it again, ah, ahI would still be surprised I could find you, darlingIn any lifeIf I could hold you for a minuteDarling, I would do it again, ah, ah(Francesca by Hozier)

For a moment you don’t know how to react, eyes wet with tears. His voice is more beautiful than you could have ever imagined and it touched your heart and soul. A shiver runs through you, not from fear or cold, but from the beauty of his voice and the words he sang to you. 

You swallow, and draw in a deep breath. Your fingers tremble and then you say, “Thank you.” You don’t really know what exactly you are thanking him for – him singing to you, the training, getting you out of the Library. Probably all of it, and your heart begins to glow. You know you are falling in love. Falling in love with the shadowsinger and it’s a beautiful feeling.

"Can I … I would like to touch you." Your eyes are still wet with unshed tears from how beautifully he sang.

A soft cough slips through Azriel’s lips.

"Your face. I would like to trace your features to create a picture of you in my mind," you immediately clarify when the innuendo in your request screams loudly at you in your mind.

He doesn’t answer, not in words, at least. His hand closer over yours before he brings it to his face. You feel the stubble on his chin beneath your palm, and then start to explore. Gently, you trace his eyebrows, his jawline, his nose and lastly, his lips.

He is beautiful, you know it without actually seeing him. Stunning, most definitely.

A sigh that has him parting his lips, fetches you back and you realise your thumb is still resting on his lower lip, no longer moving.

"Thank you." You pull your hand back, and heat flushes your cheeks. "I like you, Azriel."

There‘s a pause and Azriel doesn’t answer. It doesn’t unsettle you, you don’t expect him to say it back, you just wanted him to know. 

"I like you too, Y/N," he finally admits. Once again you can hear the smile in his voice. And the honesty. And you can feel how his hand reaches for yours again, gently taking it into his much bigger one, lacing your fingers. 

“What a coincidence,” you snicker, leaning into him. "And I like this." A small pause. "Being here with you on this quiet night."

Now, Azriel is the one to lean in, you can feel the press of his body against you and then he leans his head against yours. 

"I like this a lot too," he whispers and his voice sounds a little sleepy.

"Maybe we could do this more often?" Hope laces your voice as you pose your question.

With a small laugh he agrees and you know that you have never heard him so joyful before.

>>>>>>>>>

“Let’s do it differently this time.“ 

Azriel is standing so close, his chest almost touching yours and even though you have hugged him the day before, this feels different now. More intimate. Yesterday his arms offered comfort as you cried, today … it feels different.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs. “Feel the way the wood feels beneath your fingertips. Listen to it, feel it, imagine it.”

You let your fingertips brush over the wood until you feel a much bigger hand wrap around your, its calluses scraping against your skin. Azriel is guiding your hand over the beam, slow and deliberate. 

“Think about how you feel, think about how it will feel beneath your feet, imagine yourself walking over it. Be in the moment and forget about everything else, about your fear.“

Easier said than done, you want to say, but you allow yourself to trust him, to follow his lead and let his words settle into you. 

Your fingers curl around the edge of the beam as your imagination sharpens. You have done a lot more grounding and balancing exercises in the days between your almost-fall and today. The confidence hasn’t returned fully, but partly and so you find yourself standing right next to the beam once more, ready to face it again. Soon. Not yet.

“You don’t have to see it. You just have to feel it,“ he whispers and he is so close you can feel his breath against your ear. “Be in the moment and feel it, every step. And when you’re ready, we’ll try again.“

You do as he tells you, almost as if becoming one with the beam. Underneath your palm you feel the faint humming of the wood, and become hyper aware of ever little splinter, every hole and every fibre.

Your breath evens out, your mind sharp and focused, the task ahead a clear vision within your brain and a sense of willingness fills you.

You want to do it. You want to manage walking this beam. Not for anyone but only for yourself. You want to prove it to yourself that you are ready, that you can do it.

And so, in a voice full of confidence, you say, "I‘m ready to try again."

A proud hum sounds from Azriel, his hand slipping away from yours so he can give you space to turn. He once again helps you climb the few steps, and so you find yourself in a similar position again as a few days ago. But this time you won’t let your fear win.

Your breathing steadies as you place one foot in front of the other and take a small break, balancing yourself in the moment, feeling the wood beneath your bare foot, becoming one with the obstacle ahead of you.

"I know you can do it," Azriel says from beside you, his presence as grounding as ever. "Don’t let your fear win. Never let it take the upper hand."

Determination takes root in your chest, and you step forward, each movement deliberate, strong and still careful.

"Use your senses,“ Azriel says. "You may not be able to see, but you can always rely on your hearing. On what you feel."

Your focus narrows, sharpening as you start to move with the beam — it sways and you sway with it. 

"That’s it!" Gwyn cheers from the other side of it. "Move with it! Find your rhythm."

And you do as told. One step after the other, always in balance, every movement in sync with your breaths. Your puls starts to hum —not with fear, but with confidence— as you walk, forward and forward until you stop. 

You stop and give yourself a short break to arrive in the moment. To grasp what is happening. You’re truly doing this and a smile blooms on your lips.

"Don’t overthink,“ you can hear Azriel say beside you and you give your head a small, barely there shake.

"I don’t,“ you hum. "I’m just enjoying the moment. I can do it!“

If he answers something, you don’t know because you start to walk again, driven by confidence and a fire within your soul that you thought has long died down.

You know it’s only a few more steps, you know it without Azriel having to tell you. You can feel it, you can see it in your mind. Every last step you take is measured, your muscles remembering every movement you practiced even though the beam starts to wobble. 

You won’t stop, you won’t give up and you won’t fall this time. You can feel a small shift, knowing that now you’re almost at the end the beam will start to sway even more. But you’re not afraid. You breathe through it, and keep going.

Until!

Strong arms catch you before you can take the next step, lifting you off the wood and onto the ground, a heartfelt laugh embracing you like a warm coat. "You did it, Y/N! You fucking did it!“

"I did,“ you breathe, and it sounds almost a little like a question. Like you can’t quite believe it. But then joy fills you, every fibre of your being and a smile breaks out on your face. "I did it!“

He takes your hands into his, squeezing them lightly and you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Yes, you did it“. 

There’s also pride in the shadowsinger’s voice and it does something to your heart. 

Bliss spreads throughout your entire body, raw and overwhelming, and before you can stop yourself, you rise onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek—or at least, to where you hope his cheek is. 

He stiffens immediately, you can feel it, his demeanour shifting. 

Azriel’s shadows start to swirl frantically around the two of you as heat flushes your skin.

“I—uh…” His voice falters, and Azriel clears his throat.

If you didn’t know better, you would say you could hear Gwyn snickering in the background. 

The smile on your face turns into a big grin, you just can’t help it. "Thank you, Azriel!“ You take a step closer to him again. "Thank you for helping me and showing me what I am capable of!“

"You don’t need to thank me. This was all your doing! I took no part in what you managed today!“

"But you did, Shadowsinger!“ you insist, closing the distance between you and pressing your palms flat against his chest. "You showed me how to find confidence in myself, you gave me strength and you … sang for me. So let me thank you! Let me show you my gratitude.“

"I sang for you because I wanted to, Y/N. And I helped you because I knew that there was so much you could do and that you have the strength to do something great,“ he hums and it sounds joyful. "But if you insist, will you allow me to take you out for dinner?”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @eerievixen @feyretopia @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @illyrian-dreamer @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel @berryzxx

@cataclysmica @its-sam-allgood @sstrohma @sidthedollface2 @anuttellaa @vaf24 @arcticfoxxes @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @velarisnightsky444 @weirdo-fun

[charleslelurk]

clothed sex/dryhumping for nortrell or carlando? ^^ i hope your hellish work shifts pass quickly! x

Thank you!!

Carlando + dry humping

from here

This takes place after the Mexico City GP this year

"Lando, Lando, you cannot put your hand in my pants in public," Carlos pants, grabbing Lando's wrist as he fumbles with Carlos's belt buckle. 

Lando whines and presses his face into the side of Carlos's neck where he feels his lips mouthing at the skin. He tilts his head, making it easier for Lando, before remembering himself and glancing around the club. They're to the side, at the mouth of a hallway, no one turned towards them, but Carlos is wary of phones and eyes. He already knows they will be boarding the plane tomorrow hungover and on zero sleep; they don't need to add a PR scandal for both of their teams to how hellish tomorrow will be after this celebration. They're too many drinks into the night, dopey drunk and on the cusp of being too intoxicated.

Lando's breath hitches loudly in Carlos's ear, drawing him back to how Lando is pressed into him, like he's going to meld his body into Carlos's and become one. 

"Landito," he says, a warning note in his voice. "Not here." But he makes no move to push Lando away, still likes the feeling of Lando and his wet mouth pressed against him.

Lando breaths against the spit-slick skin of Carlos's neck. "Carloooooos. But–" And Lando's hips press against Carlos's thigh, his half hard cock suddenly apparent, "I need it." He rocks his hips, slowly humping Carlos's leg. 

"Keep it in your pants," Carlos tells him quietly, even as he holds Lando's hips loosely. If he tightened his grip, he could make Lando stop. He doesn't. 

"It is," Lando says, panting. 

"¿Qué?" Carlos finally dips his head to look down at Lando and stop scouring the room for wandering eyes. 

"In my pants."

Carlos almost rolls his eyes, but it is hot how Lando is just rutting against his thigh, small pushes of his hips against Carlos. He slides his hands up to the small of Lando's back and pulls him closer. After all, Carlos won today–proved for one last time that he belonged on Ferrari these past four years–and has left them with a last memory of his achievements… he deserves to break some rules. And Lando feels so good against his side, just perfect and right. 

Carlos dips his head to put his lips beside Lando's ear. "Do you think you could come? Like this?" 

Lando shivers a little, pressing his cock harder into the muscle of Carlos's thigh. "Fuck, maybe."

"Try."

Lando makes a noise in his throat and rocks his hips rhythmically. Carlos's lips are still beside Lando's ear, and he mouths at the shell of it before taking Lando's earlobe in his teeth, biting daintily. Lando's breath hitches and his hips jerk sharply into him. Carlos continues licking Lando's ear, exploring the folds of it with his tongue, occasionally whispering little nothings. 

"C'mon, Cariño," Carlos whispers, sliding his hands down to yank Lando sharply closer by his ass. "It's so hot, it's so good." Carlos is hard in his slacks, is going to have to jerk off in the bathroom once Lando comes, or maybe he'll drag Lando to the bathroom too. 

Lando is making little hitching noises in his throat, sounds that Carlos knows mean he is close. He wetly parts his lips. "I–I need…"

"What do you need?" Carlos asks, just loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Lando gasps into Carlos's neck at his next thrust, and doesn't answer. Carlos grips his ass harder, then moves one hand up to his own face and spits on his fingers before slipping it down the back of Lando's loose jeans. He feels Lando's breath quicken as Carlos blindly navigates to the crease between Lando's cheeks and slips just the tip of his finger into his hole. 

Lando comes with a gasp, hips stilling for a moment against Carlos before thrusting jerkily as he works himself through it. Carlos pulls his face back to find Lando's and kisses him as he comes, until Lando breaks it to breathe, pressing his forehead forwards into Carlos's cheek. 

Lando says something Carlos can't hear. 

"What?"

Lando lifts his head. "So I couldn't put my hand down your pants, but you–"

Carlos shuts him up with a quick kiss.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 37 REGRET

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing

NOTES | new year in 4 hours and I haven't even finished this smau. gonna write some chaps of my smau in advance next time 🧍‍♀️anyways I'm sure you guys can tell we're reaching the end, so what if jaemy/n never happens 😈

+ I feel like this chapter could've been better (proofreading it mightve helped) but it is what it is 😭

Jaemin looks at Y/n, and despite the double doors of the lockeroom finally being swung open, he looks at her, and only her.

Her tear stained cheeks, her ragged breaths, her bloodshot eyes, they all make the guilt biting against his tongue sharper.

The palm of her hand pressed firmly to her forehead only causes his mind to run, an unwanted whistle stop door down memory lane. Every moment comes back to him, his ignorance, his resentment, his rashness — his incompetence however, is the most haunting.

All those years ago, Jaemin swore he knew Y/n better than she knew herself, her habits, her mannerisms, her likes and dislikes. He knew it all. He knew her, truly and entirely, and yet he had been so quick to assume. He felt incompetent, like those years of friendship had amounted to so little, like knowing her had meant nothing.

What use was knowing her in their best moments when he couldn't recognise her in their worst.

She wouldn't do that to him, he knew that. Y/n wouldn't betray him. But knowing wasn't enough if he couldn't believe it. Her hadn't.

And suddenly the shame and self reproach had never spoken louder to jaemin. He should have known better. Been better.

Truly, Jaemin never felt he had measured up to y/n when it came to their friendship, but something now made him feel so much more lousy than ever before, insecure. And perhaps, he had let those insecurities of his cloud his judgement.

If only he'd heard her out, if only he'd listened. If only he'd acted differently.

Jaemin sure wishes he'd acted differently. Her shouts, teary eyes and desperate screams for him to just talk to her played, a broken record in his mind.

But it was so much more than that, regret that stretched far beyond distinguishing lies from actuality.

It was about all the things he never noticed, all the small details that he should have noticed. A best friend would have noticed.

Sure, Jaemin had been hurt. He'd been through hell and back in the months after the competition, but never once did he go through it alone. He had his friends by his side, his brothers, and Y/n, she hadn't just lost him, she'd lost them too, without so much as a goodbye, never even knowing why.

She'd fallen apart and put herself back together right in front of him, and he'd never noticed a thing. The guilt ate him up inside.

What could have been, what he should've done, it was almost haunting.

Yet again, as he hears the shuffling of feet in front of him, the muffled protests of way too many voices by the door and the increasingly fast footsteps away from him, Jaemin feels like he should have known better.

Y/n was always impulsive.

And when he looks ahead of him, Jaemin realises she's long gone, shouts of her name coming from down the hall, confused eyes latching onto Jaemin.

"What the fuck hapenned in there Na?"

Jake's voice comes loud and clear but the captain in front of him looks just as dazed as before.

"Why was she crying?"

"She was crying?" Jaemin doesn't mean for his words to come out to monotonous, but he can't control it. It feels like everything is moving too fast for him, like he's a couple seconds behind of it all.

"Jaemin?" This time it's chenle, staring mouth agape at him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost what hapenned?"

He doesn't know how to respond, explain it all or find the words to even begin. And it's clear to the two in front of him.

Jaemin feels so far from reality that he doesn't even realise when Jake had grabbed him by the arm and started running, now standing not too far from the rest of their teammates.

That's when they see her, y/n, dishevelled, distraught and for the first time ever, absolutely enraged.

"You really thought we wouldn't find out?" she laughs at him, but somewhere also at herself, for having been so foolish, for not having tried harder.

Her father stands, bruised, but somehow just as proud as before. He smiles, pretentious. It's like he knows Y/n has no intention of letting him speak, because he doesn't even try to respond.

"You tried to break me down piece by piece until I had nothing, you started with Jaemin, my freedom, my childhood, and then you even took away yourself. Not that you ever were much of father. But you know what, you failed."

Watching y/n, jaemin saw her father in her, for just a moment, fleetingly, she stood proud, nowhere near as pompous as him, but just as angry. Still their differences were markable, how she was proud but not too cocky, how his anger seemed to be directed at life, and hers only at him.

"You failed because you never took anything away at all, you should've known the second you tried to sabotage my career you wouldn't win. But you tried anyways, really it's commendable. Your only achievement in life was taking away mine, so at least you accomplished something. But you know what, everything you did, all you tried to take away, it left me with so much more. And Jaemin? You must've been a fucking idiot to think we wouldn't figure this out. "

Jaemin let's a shaky breath out, some part of him relieved that Y/n didn't blame him for anything that hapenned.

He watches the rage bubble in the man across from him, the signs of his age now etched into his skin, he wasn't always like this. But as long as Jaemin could consciously remember, the man had never worn a smile, never made a kind gesture, never been pleasant. He wished he could be shocked at the situation in front of him, but the only word he could find was deserved. Y/n's father deserved it.

Still the tension is high, relief underlying but with a heavy silence laying overtop. The weight of words and memories extortionate. But the audacity of the man in front is unchanged, his hand moving so swiftly towards Y/n

"Ungrateful bi-"

It's Ningning who reaches out to stop the man, pushing him backwards and away from his daughter.

"I hope you don't think she has anything to be grateful to you for"

"I raised her." his protests are loud and obnoxious.

"Barely" Y/n scoffs, with so much more to say, but her tiredness catches up to her, "Just stay away from me, please."

It's easy to notice the sharp edge to her voice. Something that says she just needs a moment to herself.

And despite wanting to scream and shout at him, wanting to question him some more and push him a little further, Y/n walks away from the man, eyes stinging.

The weight on her shoulders is lighter, still present, but enough for her to let her sniffles grow further into full blown sobs with each step she takes away from the man. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

With the tears blurring her vision, she barely had any idea where she was going, her head hitting something hard as she strode forwards.

"Y/n?"

Y/n just wanted to be alone, in fact, the last thing she needed right now was to walk into Jay.

"I was looking fo-" he pauses, concerned as she tries to walk away, "hey it's okay, we don't have to talk about it, just let it all out" he says, soothing her slowly with a hand on her head, cradled in his chest.

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[glitch-but-ya]

The echo of who I once was.

"Let your memory of me fade with time" II

TAGS: Mentions of violence and death, dysphoria, mental health struggles.

WORD COUNT: 2,543 words Tag list: @withering-dream , @moonlight-inthe-sea A/N: For better understanding, I’d recommend reading Sylus’s anecdotes.

PART 1

!THIS STORY IS HEAVILY DEPENDENT ON "BEYOND CLOUDFALL" AND MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!

Memories are both a curse and a blessing, don’t you think? That which gives us strength to push through the darkest parts of our lives can also be the one to drive us to the very edge of the cliff. The weight of them feels like a chain coiled around your throat, binding you to your past. Neither of us can escape destiny. But still, I wonder what would happen if neither of our memories were restored. Would you love me then? Or was I destined to never be yours?

Sylus didn’t know the answer. He kept reading.

When you told me that you loved me, I felt happy. I know how mundane that sounds. But when you said that I was yours, I felt as if my life suddenly had purpose. All my years of hardship had led me to you, and I was content. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was worth something—worth someone’s attention, worth living for. That’s why I couldn’t let you go—I couldn’t let go of the chance to live. I’m sorry.

He knows.

My selfishness, combined with this newfound sense of euphoria, led me to cling to you desperately and overwhelm you with my presence. I completely overlooked the obvious hints you threw at me occasionally, all because I wanted to believe that you loved me. I was scared. I thought that if I were to take notice, you’d abandon me, and I’d lose you. This is not an excuse, but simply an explanation. Whether you forgive me or not, well… I wouldn’t know anyway.

Sylus took a sip from his glass.

I don’t expect us to meet again.

He doesn’t either.

And that’s why, I want to tell you everything, so I can leave without regrets. Forgive me. This is the last selfish act I’ll perform.

Sylus set the envelope down, sealing it back with admirable precision. He threw his head back against the headboard and sighed. He couldn’t believe he let the aether core slip away. And he couldn't believe he couldn't find it in himself to reshape you into another form. In every possibility, you'd come around eventually. So why did he feel as helpless as a sculptor standing before his own crumbling statue? A part of him knew that you couldn't be changed. You loathed your former self, he could tell.

And to add to his frustration, he simply did not have time for this. He was due to a ‘business’ trip within the N109 zone—his presence was required at a seemingly ordinary auction trafficking illegal protocores. The leader of Onychinus was a busy man, after all. How could he let emotions overwhelm him when so much in his life depended on his nonchalance? He was a fool for thinking he could reform you. He had mistaken you for gold. Unfortunately, as softhearted as you were, you couldn’t be molten and hammered into what he wanted you to be. But he couldn’t deny that it was also partially his fault because he knew.

‘Please kill me.’

From the moment he used his aether core to listen in on your desires, he knew that you’d already lost what made you his sorceress. The heart that once yearned for bloodshed and vengeance was now reduced to a blubbering mess, waiting for the day it’d stop beating. The voices that once wished to claim his authority were replaced by a feeble, pitiful voice. You were weak and untainted, like the humans he hunted down for a couple of gold to add to his collection. And yet, a part of him held on. He didn’t know what it was. Denial, he assumed. The inability to accept that his beloved was no more. Or perhaps it was the guilt of injustice being done upon you. He had barely scratched the surface of your desires, after all. Perhaps there was more that lay beyond your wish to die. But whatever it was, it wasn’t her. Listening to your voice for longer wouldn’t bring her back. Even so, letting you go wasn’t the wisest choice either.

After all, his relationship with you served two purposes: love (formerly) and the aether core. Now, he’d lost the chance to claim both. All because he let his emotions take hold. Sylus felt pathetic. And for the first time, he doubted his own abilities. He was torn between the choice of taking the leap and bringing you back, and staying on the other end of the crumbling bridge to wait and see how things would unfold from here. The chance of another aether core existing on this planet was slim.

But not entirely impossible.

Sylus’s form loomed over the city below, his crimson eyes gazing into its depths. Lights dotted the cityscape in irregular patterns. A full moon hung proudly in the sky, almost as if welcoming his arrival. There was a crow perched on his shoulder. The crow had ruby eyes, quite similar to his own. Behind him stood two smaller, masked men, ready to obey his orders. A familiar wind howled past them—a dry breeze lacking warmth and life, carrying nothing but dust, reminiscent of the way you had hollowed out something within him. He stood, eyeing the crowds below. Not long after, he raised his head, gazing at the sky awash in hues of red. This auction was an incubator for human desires—greed, gluttony, and lust.

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, boss!”, they chanted in unison. A slight smirk tugged at Sylus’s lips. Of course, he wouldn’t have attended such a low-class auction if something hadn’t caught his watchful eye. This time, what appeared was exactly what he sought. A valuable gem, a treasure eclipsing the finest of its kind—a certain aether core had been passed around insignificant auctions under the guise of an ordinary protocore. It had caught the attention of several other corporations, excluding his own. This time, the stakes were high, and failure could have severe consequences. He could lose everything. But did it really matter anymore? The only reason for his stay in this world was you. If he simply wished, he could start over on a planet far from yours, where he could live his life as a relentless conqueror, unbothered and undisturbed by your curse.

Sylus's hand unconsciously traveled to his eye—the very eye 'you' wished to claim so dearly. He grazed it with his fingers.

Sylus... I curse your soul...

He clenched his eyes shut.

Only I can grant you a true death.

He knew that the aether core in your heart wasn't the only one of its kind aside from his own. Surely, there existed another one somewhere across the cosmos. But that was the problem. Throughout the endless tapestry of planets, universes, and possibilities, where would he search? And amidst the legion of life forms across worlds, how could he be sure that his sovereignty surpassed all others? Earth was, by far, the easiest land to graze. So he couldn’t let go of this opportunity. Not yet.

If it were him a few months ago, the mere idea of leaving Earth would have torn him apart. But now, if the aether core slipped from his grasp, he would wander aimlessly until he caught wind of a new sighting. Perhaps, it was all a grand scheme of his own to escape you. Sylus had never fled from anything before.

His hands gripped the railing. It wasn’t the time to daydream. There was an opening laid out for him in plain sight. One rightfully timed strike and the aether core was his. His gaze scrutinized the large building before him, where the auction would take place.

May your memory of me fade with time.

Your words both held him back and urged him forward. A lovesick side of him cried out, begging him to open his eyes and try to understand the changes that had occurred. But his wrath would not let him. How dare you? After all these years of searching, after all the sacrifices he'd made, after all the pain he had endured in your place—how dare you betray him like this? Eventually, one arose triumphant. Very well, then. If you were going to leave, then so be it. He would let you have your way.

Taking a sharp breath, Sylus descended.

A sigh escaped your lips. You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair falling like a veil over your face. Tracing the dips and curves of your body, you felt alien to yourself—flawed, unfamiliar. The incessant drip of water trickling down played monotonously in the background of your thoughts. You felt flawed. You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

Your hand shot out. Your fingers caressed your own figure, who stared back at you. "Who was I before this?" you whispered, your head tilting slightly. "You were me, weren't you? Then why…" Your hand stilled. The finger pressed down on the reflection of your face with increasing pressure. "I hate you. So why do I wish to be you?"

That night, you couldn’t squeeze in even a second of sleep. Something within you ached. You didn’t know if it was the wrathful throb in your head or the melancholic sting in your heart. Every time you shut your eyes, a figure emerged from the darkness. A white-haired woman with scarlet eyes and sharp features. She looked nothing like you. The mere sight of her formed a lump in your chest. Her face radiated mock cruelty and greed, like a simmering pot of rotting wine; disgusting and bubbling. Her form was hauntingly elegant, almost ethereal—if not for the maggots writhing beneath her skin. An ever-present source of desire seethed from within her soul. It stank like the decaying flesh of a dead rabbit. Her soul reeked of the miserable fixations of humanity, the same delusions that transformed humans into harbingers of destruction. She was the type to bring death upon those she deemed unworthy, to burn whoever she pleased, and to warm the few who stood by her side. She was like a blazing, crackling fire that emerged from a hearth set alight by its own gluttony and greed. She was utterly human. There was no other word to describe it. She was exactly who you loathed: an usurper wrapped in a cloak of fragile beauty.

She didn’t just occupy your sleep. Even at work, you found yourself subconsciously drawn to the thought: How could she ever be you? You couldn’t fathom it. Even in a past life, the thought of yourself turning out like her seemed inconceivably alien. You figured that if there were a past incarnation of you, she would resonate with you as if she were an extension of yourself. But every time you lingered on her memory, you felt increasingly isolated. The harder you tried to reach out, the further she drifted—like a small boat being pushed farther from a warship. The larger ship's mighty waves pushed the boat farther and farther, no matter how desperately the boat rowed toward it. Although, the main concern was staying afloat. Your main concern should’ve been the aether core. Wasn’t that why you stayed? Was it truly because of love, and not the opportunity to extract information about the aether core from Sylus? You couldn’t believe yourself. For a moment, you wondered, how could you let the aether core slip away?

Your grip on your desk tightened, your knuckles turning white. The voices around you blurred into one until the only thing you could hear were the whispers of your own destructive mind spitting venom into your ears. Captain Jenna’s voice diminished in importance, and you found yourself focusing more on the thought of her.

After experiencing the dream of your past, her sight plagued your mind. Sometimes, she was clad in jewels (all while she reeked of greed). Other times, she was driving the greatsword into the dragon's chest. You couldn’t deny that if she hadn’t fought back, she probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to become the dragon's beloved. Whereas you would’ve been killed taking a different approach. You are grateful for her unwavering will to live, and you are grateful that she brought Sylus into your life.

But what you could never forgive was the image of herself she carved into his heart. The powerful ‘sorceress’ feared by all, the young dragon fledgling whose horns had just begun to sprout—how he could worship that, you wondered. She was just a weaker version of himself. Perhaps she possessed something you couldn’t see. Either way, what was the point of lingering on this matter? There’s no use in assigning blame. No matter how ferociously you loathe her, she will always occupy his heart. Revenge has no purpose. It only initiates endless suffering and a cycle of inflicting pain. All you could do was move on with your life. You weren’t going to meet him again, anyway. Or so you thought.

"And you will be going to the N109 zone," Captain Jenna began, breaking your trance with a simple sentence and jolting you awake. "Any queries?" she concluded. You weren’t sure how you looked. Looking back, you probably should’ve asked Tara to hold a mirror to your face. You must’ve looked aggravatingly stupid. Like an imbecile who had just hopped into the wrong room. Perhaps Sylus's talk about "destiny" and "fate" wasn’t just to sound wise and philosophical. You were seriously wondering how fate could’ve stabbed you in the back like this. Your vow to Sylus would be broken due to a silly mission. How comical.

But you couldn’t just accept this, of course. So, after the meeting had ended, you walked into Jenna’s office.

"There is nobody more capable of pulling off this mission than you." Fate must really be playing games with you, huh? "But, Captain…" you opened your mouth to protest, but were quickly silenced by Jenna’s sharp gaze. "You’ve been to the N109 zone, haven’t you? And you came back alive. This isn’t just any mission—it’s critical. We need someone who can handle the pressure. Someone familiar with the dangers." Her gaze scanned your form. "This mission is not only dangerous but extremely vital. That is why I will be pairing you with Xavier. Only the two of you can execute this mission flawlessly." You tilted your head curiously. You zoned out during the meeting, so you could only assume it was something related to the aether core. What else could be so vital as to require the best hunter on board? But if Xavier is with you, perhaps you can find an excuse to steer clear of Sylus. Not that you expect him to show himself to you openly, but letting him know that you’re here with a hunter only accentuates that you are here strictly for business. Although you don’t want Xavier to be caught up in this, this mission may lead you to crucial knowledge about your very own aether core. You looked down and placed a hand where your heart would be. You couldn’t let this chance slip away.

"So, I believe the two of you won’t disappoint," the Captain said, turning to you, her chin raised high. You immediately straightened your posture and cleared your throat. "Yes, ma’am."

Hello!! I wanted to say: thank you so much for your votes regarding the previous fic! Although I’d intended to keep it as an ‘angst-with-no-comfort’ oneshot, I decided against it due to some people commenting on how a part two would be great (I couldn’t resist writing the story anyway. I had a plan for it in my head beforehand which I’d intended to keep to myself. The comments only fuelled that desire further). I do hope this doesn’t end up becoming a major flop. I apologize for the time it took to write this much. I’ve been very busy lately; unfortunately, I do not see myself having free time in the future either. But I’ll try my best to keep up with this! Oh, and, for the people who want to keep viewing the initial ending as it was, you can! I understand that some people may not be happy with this series. So, you are free to interpret it as you wish! I had multiple endings planned for this anyway. And, YES! The title of the series has officially been changed.

[cjlouwho]

hey cj, it's bisexualbrainrots again, and damn you've rotten my brain with kidnapped tommy so i made this. beware i listened to "only love can hurt like this" on loop while writing. big cw though, it's... quite something.

The air is wet, it's always wet down here.

It makes his nose tickle sometimes, and he has to fight every urge not to sneeze, otherwise he gets reprimanded, again and again.

He knows it's stupid to hope, it's been so long he can't even think what day it is. It feels like it's been years though.

But it's okay, nobody's looking for him anyway. 

Nobody is. 

And yet, he still holds onto his memories, at least for a while before the tears form for reasons other than the constant beating and burning of his skin. He can hold onto that, onto the drinks, the pick-up games, the karaoke trivia nights.

He can hold onto those blue eyes and that birthmark. 

He can hold onto someone's who's forgotten him by now. 

He stares into the line of light that comes out of the frames of the door, and thinks for one second that he could try and get up, that he could escape. 

Except he's so tired, he can barely squirm without shockwaves of pain flowing through his body, it doesn't help that he's barely fed throughout the day. But he's gotten used to that, to that hunger.

He still isn't used to the broken bones though.

Maybe his leg is finally going to heal, or has, he hasn't tried to put his weight on it yet. He's too scared. 

He's always been scared.

Maybe that's why he's sabotaged every good thing in his life, maybe… maybe that's why he'll die alone. 

Like he was always meant to. 

He thinks back to when this started, when he woke up, his hands tied and his body resting on a chair, a chair that soon would fall along with him. He used to scream so loudly, begging for somebody to listen, to find him. 

He lost that will a while ago. 

He frowns when he hears noises, it's not him though, he's learned to pick up the signs, this is… this is different. 

It gets louder and louder. Steps, people talking, they're approaching. 

And suddenly, the door breaks and at least five people get inside the room, he has to adjust himself, shutting his eyes from the light that's almost blinding him. It's not like there wasn't any light in here, there is a lamp above him, but it was always warm and low. 

This… this was too much. 

“Tommy… Tommy!” he feels a hand touch his shoulder, and as his eyes flutter open he sees her. 

Athena. 

“W-what…?” his jaw hurts, he's still recovering from the hit he took yesterday, and he remembers the sting when he had to chew that stale bread. He refocuses on the woman in front of him, the woman he hasn't seen in months.

Her brows are furrowed, but it doesn't look angry or confused she's… worried. 

And it hits something inside his chest. 

“You’re okay now, we’ve–we’ve found you Tommy” she looks at him fondly before she stands up, while the rest of the people search things around the room. 

One of the kneels, and asks if he can stand, offers him to lift him. But he just shakes his head to both questions, and tells them, in an extremely weak voice, that he just wants to rest. 

His hands are freed, and it's weird, not having those ropes on them anymore. 

The group tries to give him small talk, but he's still so tired, he just wants to sleep. 

All he wanted was to sleep. 

Until he heard him. 

“Tommy!”

It was gutural, like he was desperate. 

In less than a second he had those blue eyes way too close to his, and he didn't know what to think, or feel.

He lifted his hand, searching for his face, and smiled weakly when he got to touch his cheeks. His wet cheeks. 

“You’re not a dream…”

Evan chuckled “Of course I'm not a dream… God, Tommy” he felt his upper body being lifted and winced, hissing at the pain still very much alive “Shh s-sorry baby… I'm so sorry” 

He looked up. His head was resting in Evan's lap, and Evan was holding— clinging onto his shoulders, like he was about to disappear if his hands weren't touching him. 

He smiled at him “D-don’t be sorry… I’m okay now”

He blinked when he felt something wet hit his face, and when he looked well he say it.

Evan was crying, or well, sobbing, his speech were hard to understand too. But he could follow.

“S-something was wrong and I didn't know, I'm sorry Tommy I didn't know, I didn't know” 

There's nothing he wanted more than to lean in and kiss the tears away, but he was so comfortable right now, he was about to fall asleep. 

But he had to say something before. 

So he shakes his head, giving him a comforting smile “It-it’s okay… I never… expected anyone to look for me anyways”

And he gave in to his slumber. 

At least if he died he wasn't alone anymore.

Praying with everything I have that I don’t plagiarize when I eventually write my fic but this was too good to avoid reading 😭 😭 😭

[catflowerqueen]

Been thinking about this more recently, and the idea that the reason the King started freezing things was specifically because they didn't want to pay Siffrin that money back, and I think I've figured out a more... concrete timeline and thematically appropriate motive (that is still extremely silly and nonsensical) for why the King would default to freezing things instead of just paying up.

It's because the King would be thinking he needed to/Siffrin would expect him to pay that back in their country's currency, and the King does not want to give up those last few pieces of his home.

His whole insane plan begins when he happens to see Siffrin from afar one day when the two of them happen to be in the same town, and he is suddenly struck by that one, singular memory of owing them money that managed to sneak through the memory filter thing. Siffrin turns toward him and starts moving in his direction and the King thinks it's because they spotted him and also remembers he owes them money, so he flees as fast as possible and then comes up with that insane plan so he never has to cough up the coins--and then helps justify it more to himself in that it would also "save" Vaugarde.

Siffrin, it should be noted, did not actually see the King in that town--or at least no more than a passing glance at the crowd. His moving toward him was a complete coincidence. So if the King hadn't jumped the gun like that, he very well could have just kept those coins guilt-free forever, with Siffrin being none the wiser and none of the time freezing and reality altering shenanigans taking place.

But they did take place... and at that first confrontation with the King, after Siffrin probably punches him in the face for being such a jerk the King just gives a resigned sigh, coughs up the coins, and then lifts the curse of his own volition "because there's no point keeping it up now that my plan failed."

He makes to just walk away, Siffrin is so stunned by this turn of events that they accidentally lets slip about the time looping via asking "Did you never think of just repaying me the equivalent amount in Vaugardian currency? Surely you must have some? Even I have some, despite all my possessions getting reset each time the timeloop restarts!"

Surprisingly enough, the King had, in fact, considered it... before dismissing it because no one would be able to figure out the exchange rate, and the King might be able to live with himself while committing acts of thievery by never giving the money back, and cursing an entire country to be frozen in time... but he refuses to be a cheat, let alone to one of his fellow countrymen who had to have been suffering just as much as he has.

Siffrin may or may not feel swayed by pity enough at this point to just throw one of the Island coins at him as he leaves.

Discussions about the timeloop and wishes would then occur, incidentally leading to Siffrin breaking free of them when he ends up figuring out what he actually wished for, but in such a manner that leaves him still thinking it was due to "beating" the King.

...Loop seriously considers mugging the guy for the Island coin, if Siffrin gave one back to the King, before backing down under the consideration that the King might go crazy and do something worse than freezing things if that coin goes missing.

They would then demand Siffrin give them one of the remaining coins "for services rendered."

ISAT au where Siffrin and the King did know each other back in their home country, but in that sort of "casual acquaintances/friend of a friend" way. Sometimes they met up and played, like, poker or something together.

And the King still owes Siffrin $20 bucks from their last game.

And this knowledge is the only thing that remained unscathed from the memory shenanigans. Except only in the most vague of ways.

Vague as in--the instant Siffrin sees him, they're filled with an all-consuming rage and the feeling that this guy "owes him something" and just immediately punches him in the face before anyone can get a word out.

("Do I remember? Do I remember?!

Do you remember how you still owe me money, you jerk?!")

...Alternatively, combine this with my "Siffrin becomes a hairdresser" au, and the reason they knew the King before is because they helped trim his hair once. And that's why they owe him money.

Because then it just means that the King would owe Siffrin even more money when they meet again at the top of the House since Siffrin literally cut his hair for him again not even an hour ago.

[avocadorablepirate]

Beneath The Surface - 2

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: When memories, buried deep within your sea of emotions, resurface, you’re left to question what lies beneath the surface. Did he truly mean to leave you behind, or was there something more to his silence than you ever understood?

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, OP spoilers

previous | masterlist | next

I may not post a chapter next week, since life’s been pretty hectic and I haven’t had time to write much of the next part, but we shall see…

As you reached the palace courtyard, your eyes landed on the forest island in the distance, the thick canopy of trees hiding the mysteries within it. A knot of dread formed in your stomach, alarms ringing in your head as if warning you that something would go wrong. But you ignored every warning, flexing your fingers instead, and taking your usual stance to summon your powers.

You took a deep breath, letting the cool breeze that picked up steady your nerves. Then, when you finally felt that you had formed enough, you let the gush of wind lift you up, a familiar weightlessness overtaking you, making you feel as though all your worries had been blown away as you effortlessly glided through the air.

The palace, and the town of Dressrosa shrank beneath you, and for a moment you felt at peace. However, as you drew closer and closer to Greenbit, the sensation of flight, once a source of joy, now carried the weight of your looming task. Desperately trying to remind yourself that all you needed to do was retrieve Caesar, you couldn’t stop your intrusive thoughts from telling you that if you screwed this up you were likely fucked.

From up above, you surveyed the shores of the forest island, looking for any signs of life. The wind that flowed throughout the island, told you that there were people on it, but it wasn’t until you reached the south beach that you spotted actual human life.

The silhouette of two people became clear from where you were, however, that was all you could make out. So, you inched closer, careful to not cause any sudden gusts of wind that would alert them of your presence.

Descending slowly, you noticed one of them wearing a long black coat, a Jolly Roger oddly similar to the Donquixote family’s printed on the back, with something written above it.

A transponder snail rang, and the same person answered it. As you overheard the person on the other end address the man in the black coat, you were finally able to see what was written, and your breath hitched.

“This is Sanji!”

“Black leg, you found the factory?”

“No, but we’ve got bigger problems. It’s a trap! Doflamingo never quit the Warlords. Get out now!”

The voice on the other end cut off, and the click of the transponder snail signalling the end of the exchange snapped you out of your trance. You took in the agitated look on the man’s face. He looks different now. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions through you.

It suddenly dawned on you why you had been assigned this mission. It wasn’t a test of strength, it was a test of loyalty.

But you weren’t going to let the few years you spent with a boy you thought you knew, stop you from proving yourself. You let the resentment and betrayal build up inside, pushing aside any other feeling that dared to come forth. Doflamingo had given you a chance to get back at the person who had truly hurt you most. Yet, the look of worry that you noticed wash over him as you were just about to call out his name, pushed aside all of those feelings in seconds.

In front of you stood the same boy who did his best to shield himself with his tough, uncaring exterior, but if you were to look close enough, you would notice the vulnerability he hid behind it.

“Law?” What should have come out as a bellow, expressing your resentment towards him, slipped out as almost a whisper of his name - as though you had a sliver of hope that it was the same boy who had calmed you in the middle of the night as you cried from yet another nightmare.

His head snapped in your direction, a voice he’d not heard in ages almost quelling his worries until he realised why you were here.

“Y/N-ya?” he called out hesitantly, almost praying it wasn’t you. All he got in response was a blank stare.

“It’s been a while,” he continued, his voice low as he slowly backed away.

Your hands that were at your sides, clenched into fists. All the hurt, all the anger you had buried deep inside you, came rushing to the surface in a matter of seconds.

“You,” you said, voice trembling with fury. “You left me.”

“I didn’t-“ Law started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“You promised me!” you shouted, the wind around you growing harsh as the air hummed with power. “You said we would do it all together.”

Law didn’t move, nor did he try to defend himself. He simply stood there, his expression unreadable, only his grip around Caesar tightening.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he finally said, albeit quietly.

“Liar.”

Your devil fruit powers further activated, a gush of wind surging towards Law. But he held his ground, blocking your next attack with his katana, the force of the clashing sending shockwaves through the air.

“Y/N-ya, I mean it! I didn’t have a choice!” he repeated, louder this time. “I would have taken you with me. But it all happened so fast. Corazon-“

You froze at the name.

“Corazon betrayed Doflamingo.” Your voice seethed with rage at the reminder of that dreadful night at Minion Island.

“Corazon died for me. He was trying to help me, trying to protect the people of-“ There was a desperation in Law’s voice as he tried to reason with you. His voice shook with emotion but before he could finish, a new voice cut through, one that sent a chill down both your spines.

“Well isn’t this a touching reunion.”

You turned to see Doflamingo descending from the sky, his grin as sharp and menacing as ever.

“Hello Law,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Rosie, I see you’ve found what I was looking for.”

You fell mute in his presence, giving a small nod as a feeling of unease settled in your gut.

“Doflamingo,” Law spat, his grip tightening around his katana.

Doflamingo ignored Law, his gaze fixing on you instead. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came.

“You’ve done well my little Rose,” Doflamingo said with a small nod of approval. “I’ll take it from here. Return to the palace.”

His words didn’t sit right with you, not to mention you had noticed a few Marines now approaching. Who had called them here?

Your body tensed, torn between the loyalty you had clung to and the boy who had once meant everything to you.

“Y/N-ya, don’t leave,” Law tried to plead with you, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You looked hesitantly between him and Doflamingo, your mind racing. But in the end, you turned and took to the sky, leaving behind the two men who held your fate in their hands.

—————

I hope y’all like what you’ve read so far :P….let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

taglist: @riftmage27 @enigma-of-grand-designs

[avonne-writes]

ma’am what is this sex robot thing….. it seems I have missed something 👀

Hahaha I mentioned it here 😄 16-year-old HS Bucky has a fantasy where he's a sex android that Gale purchases. I wrote a drabble about this for you (explicit!):

Edit: posted on AO3 too

"Our new model." A faceless man in generic cyberpunk clothes gestures at Bucky’s naked body. "A significant upgrade from the last one."

Out of the shadows, a figure steps forward. He's lean and graceful, and his plump lips look glossy in the lights of the android store. There’s a smile playing about his mouth. His shoulder-length blond locks are a spun gold so pure that no synthetic android hair could ever replicate it. The collar of his sleek black coat is turned up around a silk scarf, and neon blue shades hide his eyes. It’s hard to see whether he’s pleased with his order or not.

Still, from the tilt of his head, Bucky can tell that he’s looking at him, assessing whether he’s worth his price. Up from his toes, over his calves, the strong muscles of his thighs, to his cock, long and hard between his spread legs, pressed to a toned stomach even Ronaldo would admire. When the stranger's gaze reaches that point, he steps into Bucky’s space, smirks, then reaches out to run his gloved fingers up along Bucky's cock, where he swipes his thumb over the head. -

"Fuck." Bucky moans under his breath as his muscles tense to thrust forward.

For a moment, he freezes. Shit! He didn’t mean to make a sound. Did his mom hear? He listens intently, but there’s nothing but the lazy stream of water from the shower and the beats of his frantically pounding heart. Sighing in relief, Bucky puts his left hand back on the shower tiles and starts moving his right fist over his hard cock again. Letting his wet curls fall over his forehead, he bows his head and watches the circle of his fingers move up and down in rhythm with his pleasure until it gets too good to keep his eyes open. -

This time, he’s standing naked in an all-beige living room where unrecognizable robotic gadgets buzz on the walls. His owner sits on a beige couch with his legs spread and his sunglasses off. The black coat still drapes over his back. His hand, bare now, pulls Bucky's cock away from his stomach to guide the tip of it to those shiny, slick pink lips of his.

"You should say my name more often." Gale says mischievously. His tongue darts out to flick against the drooling head of Bucky's cock. Again and again, from different angles until he finds the best one.

"I’m here to serve you." Android Bucky replies, his artificial voice strained with sensory overload as Gale deep throats him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. When he pulls off, it’s like a vice milking Bucky of everything he’s worth.

"Mmm, but you're serving me." Gale replies in a sultry voice, deep and satisfied. "You’re so good for me, Bucky." -

Panting, Bucky blinks and squeezes the root of his cock to keep himself from coming where he stands under the hot shower. He knows that edging is supposed to make coming even better, but whenever he gets himself to the brink, he can't hold himself back for more than five minutes. He just can’t. One thought of Gale on top of him and he loses it. He doesn’t even need his imagination, just the memory of the three blowjobs Gale has given him so far is enough. A flickering recollection of pink lips around his cock, blue eyes -

- looking up at him like they want him to lose control, to thrust up and take what he aches for, and his thighs clench to thrust as he gives in and tries to fuck Gale's mouth. But suddenly, Gale's hands are on his hips holding him down, and Gale’s pulling off him with a wet little sound that -

- echoes in the shower stall. Bucky's going to run away if his mom hears him now but he’s barely able to hold back. He chokes back his moans and presses his forehead to his left to stabilize himself. His hand speeds up on his throbbing cock, pulling the pleasure out roughly -

- as though Gale owns him, like he wants Bucky tied to him through this too. A bed creaks under Bucky's weight, his bed, but he’s still a sex robot for Gale's pleasure, he’s just there to make Gale feel good, and Gale wants to feel good by making Bucky come until he can’t anymore. This is Bucky's main use, satisfying him, being good for him.

"That's it." Gale smiles at him, blue eyes fixed on Bucky’s as he draws him closer to bliss. "You're gonna sit there and take it. My Bucky." -

"Yes." Bucky whispers as the heat rises in his chest and -

- Gale throws his head back and moans, his lips parted around his pleasure and his eyes half-lidded when he looks at Bucky again.

"Oh Bucky, you’re so good. You're the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen." He rides Bucky's cock with abandon. They've never done this before but moving inside Gale's body is instinctive, it’s what Bucky was made for. It’s both of their first times but there’s nothing awkward about it, just steady rapture because Bucky's cock finds Gale's sweet spot every single time.

And when Gale cries out and tightens around him -

- Bucky comes all over his own fist and the tiles in thick ropes. He comes so long that he thinks he might lose his balance. Stars dance behind his closed eyes.

God...

It's so good.

It feels like it lasts forever. It might have been an entire minute this time. Bucky's gonna measure it one day.

Huffing through his nose to keep his noises inside, he slowly opens his eyes again and looks around. Gradually, the bliss fades. Nothing changed. He’s still in the shower, and no one walked in on him. His mom doesn’t seem to have heard. She's probably downstairs still, making food for when Gale’s coming over later today. It’s all good, thank God.

Bucky needed these precious few minutes of self-care if he's to get through the night sharing a bed with Gale and not being allowed to touch him under his pyjamas. It’s been getting harder to do that since they started fooling around.

Harder, ha.

He snorts to himself and cleans up the mess he’s made, finishing up in a few seconds then stepping out of the stall. Since he forgot to bring himself any clothes but the pyjamas he came in wearing, he just wraps a towel around his hips and walks back to his room with the pjs thrown over his shoulder.

What he doesn’t expect is that when he walks through the door, instead of an empty room, he finds his boyfriend lying fully clothed on his back in Bucky's bed and looking like the meal a Marvel supervillain would taunt the starving hero with. Bucky takes one look at him and feels all his muscles tense upon realizing just how naked he is in front of him.

"Hi." Gale smiles sweetly.

Bucky feels like a pervert.

"Hi Buck." He might be embarrassed, but he tries to channel his inner android for confidence. Soon enough, when they're both ready, Gale's going to see and touch him completely naked anyway. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I was just bored so I came over early." Gale stretches, gives Bucky a once-over, then blushes and averts his eyes. "Did you just take a shower at 3 pm?"

Bucky hides his cringing face by turning to look for clothes in his closet. "I was sweaty."

That makes Gale laugh. Quickly, before he loses his confidence, Bucky drops his towel and throws clean clothes on. The whole thing lasts less than ten seconds, but he’s still nervous when he turns back around to look at Gale’s face. He knows his body doesn’t exactly look like Ronaldo's - yet - but Gale’s hair isn’t made of actual gold either. It should be fine.

And it is, because when his gaze lands on Gale again, he realizes that Gale has closed his eyes. There’s a pink flush on his cheeks, but otherwise, he seems calm and comfortable as Bucky skips over to him and throws himself into a hug so enthusiastic that the bed creaks.

"Bucky." Gale giggles, drawing out the last syllable, but he doesn’t make any attempts to get out of the whirlwind embrace.

Bucky cups his warm cheeks and kisses him. "Wanna play something?"

"Yes." Beaming, Gale steals a kiss in return. "Cyberpunk 2077?"

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 7

Story will start after the synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 << CHAPTER 2 << CHAPTER 3 << CHAPTER 4 << CHAPTER 5 << CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7: HIM AGAIN!

"FOR GOODNESS SAKE! STOP FOLLOWING ME!"

Your morning was supposed to be filled with happiness as you relished last night's moments with Adrian, his touch, his reaction on your teasing but it all crumbled in an instant upon encountering your archenemy once more.

'Uwuuu, I should have seen Adrian first thing in the morning. Why my eyes become tainted with this man again. I need my angel to cleanse my sight'

Adding insult to injury, Cyrus nonchalantly ignored your protests and happily tagged along, ungracefully invited himself along on your quest to find the ideal flowers for Adrian. His cheerful demeanor made it clear that he had no intentions of leaving your side anytime soon.

With a smirk on his face, he offered, "Come now, offer me a bit of your pity. I'm feeling awfully lonely here. It's a lucky coincidence that we crossed paths yesterday. How about we grab breakfast together? It will be on me, my darling."

"Don't call me 'my darling' when there's nothing between us," you protested, feeling frustrated by his persistent presence. "I'm not Liesel! Go back to your own lover and stop bothering me."

But Cyrus disregarded your words, grabbing your hand without consent once more.

'Why is this guy never know etiquette? Adrian is the best guy that ever exist. My man is the one who truly knows boundaries'

Adrian, the epitome of etiquette and respect, never would have intruded upon your private space. He remained considerate, even when presented with the opportunity to enter your house. The memory of Adrian's blushing and reluctant demeanor resurfaced in your mind, a stark contrast to the audacity of the man standing before you.

'I want to be with Adrian. Why fate do this to me? Why do I need to meet this insolent brat again?'

"There's nothing between me and her now," he insisted. "I'm single, so be with me, Y/N."

'In what terms this man does not understand that my entire being is just for Adrian and only Adrian!'

"I don't care about your relationship status, Cyrus," you retorted firmly. "Whether you're with Liesel or not, I don't give a damn."

There was a hint of irritation in your voice as you forcefully tugged your hand away from his grasp. Your eyes darted towards a dangerous and poisonous flower nearby. Wielding your magic, you raised the lethal flower, aiming at him with the hope of paralyzing him and ending his annoying presence.

"Woah, careful now," he exclaimed, easily dodging your attack. His reflexes remained unmatched, living up to his reputation as the top knight in the academy.

"Please don't play with that flower, Y/N. I appreciate your effort in giving me one but please not with one so toxic."

"That's precisely why I aimed it at you," you responded, a mix of determination and annoyance in your voice.

"You want me to transform into a ghostly presence that will always haunt you, Y/N? I don't know you are such a romantic" he teased, attempting to pick up the lethal flower.

Your voice remained cool and detached as you responded, "Go ahead, grab it," a hint of indifference in your tone. "If death beckons, it would surely bring a measure of peacefulness to me and the world"

As Cyrus heard your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face for a brief moment. Yet, his usual cocky demeanor swiftly returned, and he flashed a charming smile.

"Oh, my dear," he responded, his tone dripping with confidence, "It's better for me to remain human instead of being a ghost. If I become a ghost, I cannot touch you as I like." Using his sword, he carefully picked up the deadly flower with the tip and hurled it far away, removing the threat from his vicinity.

Weary of his persistent presence, instead of focusing on him, you continued searching for flowers to give to Adrian, determined to find blooms that could match his angelic nature. You sought out only those purest in appearance, like white roses and bright yellow daisies, all possessing the innocence and simplicity that reflected Adrian's kind manners and handsome looks.

"Why are you gathering so many flowers?" Cyrus's voice interrupted your thoughts. "Did you wake up this early just to pick flowers for Adrian?" His words struck a nerve, reminding you of his unwelcome presence yesterday. You spun around to face him, your gaze locking onto his.

"You followed me all the way back last night, didn't you?" you retorted, your voice low and laced with irritation.

"You just sparked my curiosity," Cyrus explained, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "You were so adamant on escaping from me that I couldn't help but feel drawn to you. And when I was sneaking around, I observed you with Adrian. So, are you and he together?"

Cyrus's words caused you to falter momentarily, and you chose to remain silent, your mind spinning with a mix of emotions.

Cyrus continued after he read and analysed your expression, his tone persuasive, "He doesn't reciprocate your feelings?" He mused. "It seems that Adrian is still in love with Liesel."

You clutched the bouquet of flowers tightly, the sharp edges of the stems digging gently into your palm. The mere mention of Adrian's lingering feelings for Liesel stirred a wave of anguish within you.

Indeed, you had harbored doubts about it before as you watched with your own eyes how much Adrian loves Liesel back during the academy days. However, time with Adrian had slowly diminished those fears. His caring nature, the way he treated you as if you were something precious, had planted a tiny hope within you.

The bond you two had forged, a reliance on one another, had created a realm where only the two of you existed, without a third party. Cyrus's deduction, cutting through this carefully constructed reality, shook your very foundations.

'No, Adrian is not that kind of guy. He would never lead me on with fantasies'

You stared at Cyrus who moved closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. "So why not we let them be together, and you be with me instead?"

Tag list:

@d3sperate-enuf @sirenetheblogger @orinnie @aoiyx @chin-chii

@elsoleil @iamapotatoe @yzuposts @black-butterfly-2405

@beeskn3es @ivorette @type-ink @lol-leo

[thecomfywriter]

arcane season 2 rewrite

okay hear me out. this season was MESSY. so so so messy. not only did it lose the plot, but it lost so many plot devices by introducing new elements without proper explanation, expansion, or impact. it rather undid the effort invested into certain plotlines or straight up abandoned them. like for example, the shimmer, the prince and the importance of the tattoo thing he got on his leg, isha, vander silco backstory, the entire cait dictator arc (reversing that lowkey felt cheap in my opinion because it happened so instantaneously??? tf??), "i gave her a cupcake", mel and the thorn stuff (she was an empath so why tf was she making shields around people and when did she learn to do it that well and intentionally???), WHY WAS JINX SUDDENLY A HEROIC SYMBOL, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DYING TREE, VANDER'S MEMORIES? WHAT WAS THE POINT OF MADDIE?

i feel like the intrigue for arcane for me in season one was the focus of the plot, but the layers and symbolism behind it. it wasn't overly trippy or bright with glow. the glow was a symbol of magic and arcane--of something wrong. shimmer glowed purple. hextech glowed blue. jinx had her glitchy glows whenever she was off her rocker because she was hallucinating again, but the use of colour, explosions, her brightness... it all felt intentionally contrasting to how dark and dreary the undercity was. remember that scene in season 1 where vi is hurt and cait brings her to that shack where all the "forgotten" people cast aside by piltover made tents, all addicts of shimmer? remember how shimmer was used as a power booster, as a metaphor for drugs that are used to oppress and suppress masses? remember when the plot was about the wealth and priviledge disparities between zaun and piltover? silco, this guy who took advantage of the city's destitute state to rise to power, was also the same force who held it together. jinx's trauma of being abandoned is what drove her towards action... vi's desperate protector desires, cait's curiosuity and desire to prove justice or uncover injustice?

i feel like abandoning the shimmer plotline was season 2's biggest mistake. because it could have explained EVERYTHING in every way that made more sense. because why tf did viktor become a messaih, and jayce and viktor switch ideologies out of no where? if i recall correctly, viktor wanted to figure out a cure for himself, but he too admitted to feeling himself "erode away" and it was JAYCE who wasn't letting go of using hextech to save him. how tF did that switch? and a last minute scene at the end to explain the rune stuff and who the sorcerer was that saved him and his mother?

ALSO, the overuse of colour comes with the overuse of MUSIC. the most noteworthy scene in season 1 for me was the ekko jinx bridge battle, where for every big explosion, they took us OUT of the action and the loudness and let us watch the pop of colour in the darkness from afar. there was music in the slow childhood parallels, but when it flipped back to reality and the real fight--NO MUSIC. SILENCE. JUST THE FIGHTING ITSELF. THE RAW EMOTION. THE HESITATION IN EKKO'S ENTIRE EXPRESSION WHEN JINX CLOSES HER EYES AND YOU KNOW HE'S IMAGINING POWDER WITH HER TEARS.

anyways, here's my suggested rewrite:

remember in season one, where victor was struggling to touch the arcane rune cube thing, so he injects himself with shimmer to do it, and it starts poisoning him? why not have the shimmer be the thing that causes the corruption of hextech. and in that discovery, that insanity, jayce watched his friend get lost to the very things that ruined the undercity. the battle that happens in the last episode isn't between viktor the messiah and all his followers--it's the follow up of the highly intense feud between zaun and piltover as a consequence to jinx's season 1 finale actions. the war begins, the undercity's use of shimmer increases to supplement themselves with enough manpower to meet the hextech of piltover (but also because silco iisn't here anymore to selectively bargain it off to people or control its spread and use), shimmer starts infecting the people in piltover as a result (like the prince using it--that could have been a bridge into shimmer being introduced to above the undercity), jayce realizing corruption comes from the misuse of power by watching viktor succumb to the power inside of him and the corrupted hextech, and that being the eyeopener that helps piltover realize they created the "monster" they are continuously trying to subdue. the class wars are enforced by their barriers. zaun's destitution is an extension of their desperation--first and basically always to survive. i don't think jinx should survive at the end of this type of ending, to be honest, just like how she didn't in the og season 2. cait's dictator arc, the way trauma made her almost like a jinx 2.0 was honestly genuinely a very cool parallel that showcases how piltover isn't "better" than zaun just because they can see the sky. pain and power can even corrupt someone like cait, who believed in justice and forgiveness so strongly. seeing that fall from grace would have almost solidified how it's not a moral failing, it's an institutional and systemic failing--pain, a loss of family, grief, the horrors of war... piltover and zaun needed to see their reflections in each other to finally shatter that barrier.

arcane is a story about love, yes, but it is also a story about corrupt power systems. forsaking that for magic and random storylines feels cheap.

idk if i made any sense right now. womp womp. i'm going to go shower and go back to writing my book. cheers

[cloudyskydreams]

hey there, weird askkk!?!

could you think up reactions for the UT,UF,US,HT sanses coming across their S/O during the zombie apocalypse?? Like they find them as a walker just...wandering around? maybe their somewhat aware of themselves and their old memories, maybe their not IDK U PICK<3

Gods fucking damnit I just saw this said Sanses and Im already at horrotale(no Willow today sorry Willow fans), I have a problem with that my bad!!

I really love this request I made SO partially aware if this is NOT what you wanted feel free to request it again and just lmk what you want different!

Hope you guys enjoy!!!

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Undertale:

Sans:

He's pretty good at avoiding zombies so his first plan was simply that, sneak past this one just like the others only fighting if necessary. Something about this zombie does seem familiar he can't quite put his phalange on it. As he's slipping by he gets a good look at the zombies face and what he sees surprises him enough it makes him trip over a trash can lid alerting the zombie to his presence. It's his lover... He stares in shock as the zombie starts to move closer as it groans. He starts to sweat and he suddenly forgets he can teleport away as his mind goes blank. The zombie gets closer and closer and all he can do is watch frozen. It's not until the zombies a step away he finally reacts and teleports a few feet away. The zombie looks around confused and he breathes heavily trying to calm himself until... ".....sansssss?....." the zombie groans out. He tenses and immediately teleports farther away to his and paps safe house. He has a panic attack when he gets there and it takes him a good bit to calm himself down. He returns and searches all over eventually finding you stumbling down the street. They call his name again upon recognizing him and shamble over. He tears up and tenses as the zombie gets closer expecting the worst but the zombie doesn't attack only stands there and watches him. It hesitantly raises a hand and brushes it across his cheek and he flinches slightly. He grabs the hand and lowers it but continues holding it and hesitantly says their name. They repeat his name in response and he laughs in disbelief. He takes them back to the safe house and explains to Papyrus what's going on. Papyrus is absolutely uncomfortable but trusts his brother but like the zombie stays in the "lab" sans created to work on a cure for his lover. Raids hospitals for organs and similar things to feed SO as well as trying animal meat, absolutely will not feed them other people.

Papyrus:

He's on a supplies run when he sees a horde of zombies. He ducks into an alley way he knows connects to the next street but freezes as he sees a lone zombie. Raising his weapon he gets closer hoping the zombie won't take notice of him when they turn and he pauses. They look the same as the day he lost them just ... rotted and missing a bit of flesh in some areas. He leaves his weapon raised knowing better than to lower his guard and watches as the zombie notices him and starts to stumble forward. It's slow at first but then once it gets a little closer it gets a little faster making Papyrus flinch. The zombie reaches a hand out and opens it's mouth and papyrus reaction is instant cutting off the arm at the elbow. The zombie screeches and stumbles back and papyrus tenses up raising his weapon to finish it before.... ".....papyrussss...." He pauses, weapon still raised and sockets wide as he stares at them. They repeat his name and he flinches.back as if struck. He calls out their name questioningly and they reply with his name. He's at a loss of what to do but all things considered they haven't hurt him yet and they've had plenty of time to. He gently leads them back to his and sans hide out careful of other zombies and taking back roads and they just follow along obediently. He explains the situation to sans before bringing them inside and lets sans do his own investigating of his zombiefied lover. Same with sans's SO in the sense of the SO stays in Sans lab as he searches for a cure. Will not feed SO other people sorry no delectable human/monster flesh for you. Resorts to hunting animals to feed SO(they do sew SO's arm back on)

Underfell:

Red:

His first instinct upon seeing a zombie in general is to fucking bash its brains in with his weapon. So that's what he does at first he jumps straight into the action and attacks. He doesn't recognize it's them at first their bodies so rotted and different but when he's standing over the zombie as it groans and tries to get up he recognizes something wrapped around their wrist...a bracelet. A bracelet that matches the one on his wrist. He stumbles back a few steps and his mouth falls agape. He watches the zombie struggle to get back up and it really can't due to its now twisted leg so it starts to pull itself by its arms towards Red. He feels white hot numbness wash over him like static as he watches their feeble rotting corpse try and reach him and then... "....redddddd...." they call out to him and reach a hand out. He stumbles back again as if struck and starts to hyperventilate slightly. He takes one last look at the zombie and teleports away. He freaks when he returns to his safe house and trashes his rage room. Once calmed enough he teleports back and desperately searches for their zombiefied form. Once stumbling upon them again he hesitantly approaches and calls their name sweating up a storm as he does what he tells himself is the stupidest fucking thing ever. The zombie says his name back to him and doesn't lash out and he relaxes just slightly. He doesn't say anything else just watches them stand infront of him shifting occasionally He sighs and does the next stupidest thing he's ever done but he just... he can't lose them again. So he brings them home and Edge is NOT happy. Tried to kill zombie SO immediately and Red freaks and teleports the two of them out of every attack while trying to reason with his brother. Eventually Red does get Edge to calm down enough to recognize SO isn't attacking and seems to be somewhat aware of what's going on around them. He doesn't really want to leave it alive and would rather put them out of theirisery but Red gets almost hysterical and Edge backs off. He isn't letting them stay inside though so shed for the SO it is. Red moves into the shed with his new zombabe. Not above feeding them other people if needed bur tries animal meat first.

Edge:

He see's them stumbling around as he's searching for supplies and goes numb upon seeing their face. A part of him assumed the worst but he was desperately holding onto the hope he would find them alive. He takes a step closer and their zombified self notices and makes a groan starting to shamble towards him. He raises his weapon but simply watches for a moment taking in their frame. Their not his lover anymore .... his lovers dead and this thing is their walking reanimated corpse. Then something happens "....edgeeeee" they groan out and he stiffens. They... recognize him? The zombie pauses Infront of his skeletal frame and he takes in their rotting appearance. The zombie reaches out and he flinches away before making a decision. If they can recognize him a part of them is still in there and he knows what he has to do. He puts them out of their misery ending the zombies life quickly and as mercifully as he can. He burries them near his base and visits the grave everyday leaving flowers and gifts on important dates.

Underswap:

Blue:

He recognizes them immediately there's no way he wouldn't. He pauses and a cold fear washes over him, not because he's in danger but because he knows what he has to do. When the two of them were separated at the start of the apocalypse he so desperately hoped they would be okay that they'd survive until he found them. Clearly, he was too late. He takes a few hesitant steps and tears up slightly as he raises his weapon ready to get it over with. But he hesitates... and in that time the zombie turns around and notices him. They start to shamble forward and Blue stands his ground simply taking in his partners broken form. He speaks softly about how sorry he is and how he loves them fully aware they probably don't understand a word he's saying. When the zombie gets close enough he steels his nerves and raises his weapon ready to end this when ... "....blueeee...." What? They .... they recognize him? He freezes again as the zombie reaches for him and instead of attacking they place their rotted hand on his cheek. He tears up frozen and stares at his zombified lover. He says their name softly and the zombie grunts. He lowers his weapon and brings the zombie into a gentle hug as he starts to cry. He leads the zombie home and lets just say Stretch was NOT having it so zombie lover is kept outside in the shed. Blue checks up on them everyday and talks to them softly, he refuses to feed them other people but brings them raw meat from animals hoping that will satiate them.

Stretch:

He was searching for food in a grocery store when he heard the telltale sounds of a zombie somewhere in the store. He wasn't worried and kept sneaking around peeking out occasionally to keep the zombie in his sights. It's all good until he notices something about the zombie. That's.... his old hoodie, which means.... He freezes dropping the can in his hand and alerting the zombie to his presence. They start walking towards him and he freaks throwing a can at the zombie and teleporting a few feet away. A part of him doesn't want to leave it even though it's an undead corpse. The can hits the zombie and causes it to fall and screech. He winces and takes a step forward feeling somewhat guilty but then he pauses. What is he doing, feeling sympathy for one of these things is going to get him killed by it. He hesitantly watches and takes a step back unwilling to cause harm to it. It's still ... them in a way to him and he doesn't...he cant... ".....stretchhhh....." he tenses up. Did the zombie just...? He watches the zombie struggle to get back up as it repeats his name and reaches out for him. He starts to hyperventilate a little and assumes this is a nightmare and teleports home. He goes back after awhile to check and see if he wasn't hallucinating and stumbles upon them stuck in the store still. He breaks down as the zombie calls his name again upon seeing him and shambles over. It doesn't attack and instead stands infront of him and reaches out to wipe a tear away clumsily leaving a trail of dead juice on his cheek. He cringes slightly but grabs his Zombie SO's hand and gently lowers it. He doesn't want to put Blue in danger by bringing them back but he doesn't want to abandon them especially if they can understand and recognize him still enough to not attack him. So he sort of sets up the store into a little home for Zombie SO. Visits everyday and often tells zombabe stories of the outside world and him and blues antics. Won't feed SO other people but will absolutely become a hunter to find them food.

Horrotale:

Axe:

Axe is out searching for food slaughtering whatever zombs get in his way when he stumbles upon one lone zombie wandering down the street. His grin grows and he goes out of his way to follow the zombie with his axe raised ready to swing at any moment. He follows the zombie and something feels weird .... off. Something feels ... familiar. He ponders on what it could be as he follows the zombies slow steps gaining on it quickly with sadistic intent. Maybe the street is familiar? He could have walked it some day and simply forgot... Or perhaps it's the situation he finds himself in? Apparently he made a noise while lost in thought or something similar because the zombie turns now aware of his presence and that's when it hits him. The axe drops out of his hand as his eyelight shrinks to the smallest it can be as he stares straight ahead at someone he could never forget. He jumps into action as the zombie stumbles closer and reaches for his axe again. He can't die he has to stay alive for his brother he can't let them bite him he just he can't even though a part of him wants them to so they can be together again. As the zombie gets closer he does something he never does, he hesitates. The zombies one step away and he raises his axe in position to take off it's head when ... "......axeeeee......" He freezes his eyelight expanding as his name is groaned out. He watches with his shak eyelight as his zombie SO looks up at him and repeats his name. He grips his axe a bit tighter as the zombie reaches out but it doesn't attack him only brushes it's hand against his jacket for a second. He tilts his head and simply observes for a few minutes. Once he's satisfied with his observations and realizes his Zombie SO isn't going to attack him he relaxes slighty. He does take zombabe home, simply picks them up (careful of their barely held together body) and carries them home. Willow is...a little weirded out and thinks axe has lost his mind completely at first but with a little bit of reassurances and zombabes docile nature is enough to calm Willow's worries. Axe keeps Zombabe in his room. Not above feeding SO people is actually 100% fine with it and just sees it as the same as him finding food to feed him and his brother.

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I have asks in my inbox but I'm DYING to try my hand at some yandere boys so that's probably gonna be my next few updates. If you have any yandere related asks for the boys I write feel free to send I would love the inspo.

If you have sent an ask and I haven't gotten to it yet I will i promise!!