#anyway. that one line from All The Shine: I'm not trying to come hard. I'm trying to come me.

[neverendingford]

.

[poisonlove]

Hey, I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I'm gonna ask anyway.

(Wednesday Addams x female reader)

Reader gets Wednesday a black necklace with a miniature dagger on it for her birthday. While Wednesday secretly loves the gift, she acts like she does not care for the gift. However, she wears it all the time. One day, when she comes into her dorm, she finds the necklace missing and practically hunts down the whole school to find it. Wednesday almost kills someone to get it. Reader sees her acting crazy to find something, and when she asks what it is, she has no choice but to tell her. It ends cute with fluff at the end

I can't write it myself, so I need help❤️

Happy birthday | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Status: request

Advertising: fluffy, wednesday cry

Author: sorry for this end

"Happy birthday, Wed," I say with a small smile on my lips.

We were at the only café in Jericho, celebrating Wednesday Addams' 17th birthday. Enid had dragged her there, promising the gothic brunette that it wasn't a birthday party but something strange she wanted to show her.

As soon as Wednesday walked into the café and saw her friends—Thing, Xavier, Eugene, Tyler, and Enid's boyfriend—she shot a glare at her roommate.

"I told you no party," she hissed, but Enid beamed at her.

"This doesn't count as a party," Enid replied, trying to reassure her.

With a resigned sigh, Wednesday approached the table.

"Happy birthday, Addams," Xavier said, grinning ear to ear.

Wednesday didn't even respond.

Wednesday's brown eyes locked onto mine, staring intensely as if trying to read my thoughts.

"I thought at least you wouldn't be involved," she murmured slowly, coldly.

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks.

"It was Enid's idea," I quickly apologized, blushing deeply under Addams' accusatory gaze.

"You know I hate birthdays," Wednesday said, unfazed.

"Think of it as an event bringing you closer to death," I suggested, shivering slightly.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, considering it for a moment. "Interesting perspective. Though death is the only event I eagerly await, it doesn't make birthdays any less... unbearable."

I smiled shyly, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, at least you have an excuse to receive gifts."

"I detest gifts," she retorted, a touch of coldness in her voice. "They're just useless symbols of unwanted affection."

"I know," I admitted, briefly looking away. "But sometimes it's nice to receive something just because someone cares about you."

Wednesday stared at me intensely, as if trying to read between the lines of my words. "Feelings are overrated," she declared, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice.

The brunette walked slowly towards me and sat down next to me. Wednesday's Notes of Amber and Wood perfume reached my nostrils, and I almost closed my eyes in appreciation.

Enid approached us with enthusiasm, her blue eyes shining brighter than usual."Happy birthday, Weddy," the blonde chirped, almost screaming. I smiled tenderly, watching as Enid rushed towards Addams and hugged her quickly.

Wednesday closed her eyes, enduring her friend's affection.

"You don't mind if we got you gifts, right?" Enid almost asked with guilt, and Wednesday sighed loudly.

"No," she muttered through gritted teeth.

I chuckled timidly, and Wednesday kicked me under the table, silencing me and making me bite my lip hard from the pain.

"I think the whole school knows that you are a girl who likes things like death and torture..." Enid begins shyly.

"Too much," Xavier comments amused.

"So Ajax and I wanted to give you this," says Enid nervously, handing over a package wrapped in black paper.

Wednesday took the package with deliberate slowness, carefully observing every detail of the wrapping. With a precise motion, she slid a nail along the edge of the black paper, meticulously peeling off the adhesive tape. She didn't tear the paper but opened it carefully, as if performing a ritual. Finally, she extracted the contents revealing a romantic novel.

She looked up in confusion and stared intently at the blonde.

"We thought it would be torture for you to read it," the blonde said, and Wednesday smiled imperceptibly.

"Thank you," she said seriously.

Other gifts followed: Tyler gave her a coupon to order her favorite drink for free for a week, Eugene a jar of honey, and Xavier a book on various torture methods.

Wednesday glanced at me sideways, and I shrugged indifferently. I tried to hide my nervousness and continued to maintain eye contact with Wednesday. The latter, seeing nothing strange, returned to look at her friends.

I sighed with relief: I wanted to give her the gift later without anyone around.

At midnight, Wednesday's birthday party had officially become unbearable for the birthday girl, and she asked to return to Nevermore. We walked silently towards Wednesday's and Enid's room, although the latter had gone to sleep with Ajax.

Silence surrounded us, and the gift I had in my pocket burned with each passing second.

I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants and swallowed loudly.

"What's wrong with you?" Wednesday casually asks in front of me.

How did she notice?

"Nothing," I mutter timidly, nervously chuckling.

We arrive in front of her room door, and the brunette turns to look at me curiously. My eyes fix on her face illuminated by the faint moonlight, making me blush recklessly. I had feelings for Wednesday for some time now and hoped Addams wouldn't notice.

"When you laugh in this way you hide something," Wednesday says seriously.

Damn.

"Um..." I start nervously, my heart beating fast against my chest.

"I also have a gift for you," I say timidly.

"Y/n/n," the brunette whispers.

"It's nothing," I immediately justify, knowing Wednesday's general dislike for gifts, especially fancy ones.

I take the small box out of my pocket and hand it to Wednesday, trembling slightly.

Wednesday takes the box with the same meticulous care she applies to every gesture. Her long fingers delicately grasp the adhesive tape and peel it off with surgical precision. The paper unfolds under her hands like petals of a blooming flower, revealing the content. Her cold, calculating brown eyes rest on the black necklace with the tiny miniature dagger.

Despite her habit of hiding emotions, for a brief but intense moment a spark of interest passes through her eyes. Her expression doesn't change, but there's something in the tilt of her head, in the way she holds the necklace between her fingers, that suggests a subtle almost imperceptible appreciation.

"It's... an innocent gift, I swear," my cheeks turn red. "It's an old family heirloom," I justify.

Wednesday looks up from the gift and stares at me intensely. Her face is a mask of impassivity.

She says nothing but moves closer and hugs me timidly, a surprisingly tender gesture for her. The contact makes me hold my breath, and my heart seems to want to explode from my chest. Then, with a light movement, she kisses me on the cheek.I stand still, almost incredulous at what just happened.

Wednesday withdraws, her face still impassive but with a slight warmth in her cheeks.

She was embarrassed.

"Thank you," she murmurs. Then she puts the gift in her pocket and enters her room, closing the door behind her.

I stand there for a moment, trying to process everything. The silence of the hallway envelops me, but inside me, I feel a whirlwind of emotions. I bring a hand to my cheek, still warm from Wednesday's kiss, and smile shyly.

(...)

Days passed slowly, turning into months, and Wednesday remained the enigmatic and somewhat peculiar figure typical of the Addams family.

Despite the time that had passed, I had never seen her wear the necklace I had given her. Initially, I felt disappointed, but then I realized I couldn't blame her. Perhaps I had overstated its importance, making it something too sophisticated and not suited to her style. Maybe for her, it was simply an object of little interest, if not outright distasteful.

I didn't reveal my disappointment because I harbored deep feelings for her. I wanted to continue being her best friend, as I always had been, even though my heart sometimes fluttered in the face of her coldness.

One day, Wednesday's behavior took a completely anomalous turn, and I began to worry seriously about her.

I saw her walking through the school with palpable agitation, scrutinizing every corner, lifting vases, and searching through the garden's grass and fountain. It was clear she was searching for something with an almost frightening determination.

I was so worried that even Enid, usually impassive in the face of Wednesday's eccentricities, seemed unsettled. When I finally managed to talk to her, Enid confided that Wednesday had literally torn apart their room, searching everywhere with excessive fury.

"I swear, y/n, it was terrifying," Enid told me nervously. "I simply asked what she was looking for, and Wednesday yelled at me and pushed me out of the room," she continued, her voice trembling, "and if I had insisted, she would have killed me," she concluded, terrified for her life.

Enid quickly waved goodbye and walked away from me, probably wanting to escape Wednesday's wrath.

It was clear that something serious was happening.

I couldn't understand what could have triggered such a reaction in Wednesday, but the anxiety was starting to affect me too.I decided to walk towards Addams' room, eager to talk to her and understand what was going on.

As I approached, I noticed something glinting in a corner, behind a statue. I raised an eyebrow with curiosity, cautiously approaching. It was the necklace I had given Wednesday.I picked it up and carefully put it in my pocket.

I wanted to meet Wednesday and try to understand what was happening. I also hoped she could give me explanations about why she had thrown away the necklace I had given her; she could have at least returned it.

I walked towards Wednesday's room and raised an eyebrow in confusion, seeing the door half-open, accompanied by a deafening noise coming from inside.

I opened the door slowly and found myself facing a scene of total chaos: overturned beds, the desk turned over with scattered objects everywhere, clothes strewn on the floor, papers scattered everywhere.

I even saw a T-shirt on the window.

It was such complete disorder that it left me speechless for a moment, wondering what could have caused all this in Wednesday's usually tidy room.

Wednesday was hunched over her bed, with Things by her side. "No, Things, I don't care if we've already looked under the bed, help me," she said desperately.

What on earth was she looking for?

"Wednesday?" I called out in confusion.

The gothic girl tensed slowly and turned to look at me. I widened my eyes seeing her bloodshot eyes, mascara running down and marking her cheeks.

She had been crying.

I immediately approached her; why she had thrown away the necklace didn't matter to me now.

Wednesday looked at me with seriousness and anguish, her arms wrapping around my neck in a suddenly needy embrace. The warmth of her body made me shiver, a sensation contrasting with the intensity of the situation.

"Enid told me you were looking for something..." I said, my voice muffled by her embrace."Why didn't you tell me?" I added gently, trying to understand what was troubling her so deeply.

"I could have helped you," I added with a smile that I hoped would reassure her.

Wednesday withdrew slightly and looked at me with eyes reflecting palpable sadness.

"I didn't want... to disappoint you," she confessed, lowering her gaze.

"Why?" I asked, confused and curious about her thoughts.

Wednesday seemed to struggle with herself, a visible conflict in her gaze. After a long moment of silence, she decided to reveal the truth.

"I lost your necklace," she admitted, avoiding my gaze and staring at her shoes with evident discomfort.

So that's what she was looking for...

I smiled broadly and chuckled to myself, confusing Wednesday. The gothic girl stared intensely at me, her eyes darkening at my demeanor, visibly annoyed. Without saying a word, I pulled out the necklace from my pocket, and Wednesday's eyes widened in surprise.

"Where did you find it?" she asked curiously, her tone serious."Behind a statue," I murmured timidly, smiling at the brunette girl.

" I thought you had thrown it away... After all, I've never seen you wear it," I confessed shyly.

Wednesday took the necklace and turned her back to me, moving her braids aside and tilting her neck.

"Will you put it on me?" she asked timidly.

I smiled nervously and timidly approached her, my trembling hands fastening the necklace around her neck over the W necklace that her mother had given her.

Wednesday turned around and looked up to meet my gaze.

"I've always had it... I just didn't want anyone to think I really cared," she confessed quickly.

I knew Wednesday wanted to maintain her reputation as the strange girl at all costs, so I wasn't surprised by her choice to hide it. I looked at Wednesday with curiosity, a small smile creeping onto my lips as I noticed her cheeks blush slightly.

I decided to lighten the mood.

"I'll help you tidy up the room," I said timidly, giving Wednesday a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Never do that again," she said, embarrassed.

"What if I do?" I teased, and Wednesday looked at me calmly.

We began to tidy up the room together; I picked up papers from the floor, sorted some clothes where I found a hoodie I had lent her months ago, while Wednesday organized the desk and her bed.

"Y/n?," Wednesday called me timidly.

I turned with the clothes in my hands and looked at her attentively.

The gothic girl seemed nervous."Even though I kept the necklace hidden... I really care about you," she confessed, and I smiled broadly.

I kept smiling, even though a part of my conscience devilishly whispered that Wednesday was only doing it as a friend. But if she allowed me to be close to her, I would accept it anyway.

"If you lose it again, let me know, okay?" I joked timidly.

Wednesday tilted her head, scrutinizing me carefully.

"I won't lose it again, I swear on Nero," she admitted, and my heart skipped a beat at those words.

She had sworn on her scorpion.

"Good," I said embarrassedly, lowering my gaze to hide my blushing cheeks, my heart beating frantically.

Wednesday observed my embarrassment with curiosity.

"Y/n?," she said slowly, breaking the brief silence. "I'm not good with words, but... thank you. For understanding me."

Her voice was calm but loaded with meaning, and I felt a thrill of emotion run down my spine. It was as if she too was struggling with a part of herself that she rarely showed to others.

"There's no need to thank me," I replied sincerely, lifting my gaze to meet hers. "I'm here for you, Wednesday. Always."

A faint smile touched Wednesday's lips, almost imperceptible but full of gratitude. It was a moment of silent connection between us, a mutual understanding that transcended words.

"I know," she finally said, with a hint of seriousness in her voice. "And I... really appreciate all this. You're the only one who truly knows me."

Those words filled me with warmth.

It was perhaps the first time I heard Wednesday express her gratitude so openly, and I felt privileged to have been welcomed into her reserved inner world.

Oh Wednesday... If you knew what I would do for you. Maybe you would finally let me completely into your cold heart.

[littlerequiem]

the hitchhiker's guide to isekai ˚⁎⁺ levi x gn!reader

CONTENT — Levi getting isekai'd into our world, (questionable) humor, slice of life, swearing, Levi is a boomer when it comes to technology, pop culture refs, suggestive, mentions of bondage (wc: 1.1k words). Written for Day 3 - Isekai, Levi Month 2024 - @levievent

For as long as you could remember, Levi Ackerman had always been your favorite fictional character. There was something about his strength, his empathy, and his kindness that drew you to him.

Then, one day, the universe delivered him on a silver platter.

It was midsummer night when you found him. There he was, lying in your new antique wardrobe, groggy and half asleep, dark hair tousled to the side. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing; was this really your favorite anime character, in the flesh?

Before you could think on the logistics of it all, however, Levi was already reaching for the small knife tucked in his boot.

And threatening you with it.

It all happened in a flash.

With your heart drumming in your chest, you remember fumbling for words, looking straight into those sharp, silver eyes you’d always imagined must shine like starlight (and gods, they truly did).

Looking back, your first words lacked a certain decorum. “Wh—who—is this some kind of skit, huh? Are you some kind of pervert?!?”

Levi looked at you then like you were a complete idiot.

As it turned out, Levi was not, in fact, a pervert, nor did he mean to end up here in the first place.

Instead, he told you the hard facts: that he was Levi Ackerman, Captain of the Survey Corps. That he owned the same closet in his office, only in his own world. That the last thing he remembers was falling asleep in this piece of furniture, an attempt to hide from Hange who’d been up in arms trying to convince him to help with an experiment.

Your reality, it seemed, was connected to the Attack on Titan universe through a mysterious wardrobe.

(Like fucking Narnia.)

It was then that it was decided that he would stay with you until he found a way home.

A month has passed since this first moment, and to say that your daily life has been altered would be an understatement. You’re living with one of your personal heroes, after all—not that you let him know you view him as such.

Levi is trying to get back to his world, and in the meantime, Levi gets to discover your world: the joys of washing machines, the taste of matcha tea, the ease of hoovers, rock music.

And today, he’s uncovering the mystery that is the internet.

“I don’t understand,” Levi grumbles, his voice rough like sandpaper. Lines of tension form across his pale forehead, his gaze fixed on your laptop propped on the kitchen table. “People spend their time looking at cat... paintings?”

He’s perusing your blog.

“These are actually photographs that you’re looking at, but I suppose people also love drawings of cats. Cats are a very popular topic, see,” you explain, coming closer as you stop him from clicking on a sketchy looking pop up: ‘Free iPhone 15! Claim Yours Now’.

Levi's charged gaze follows as he watches you go about it; you have the thought he smells nice, like fresh linen and tea.

You clear your throat, withdrawing from his personal space. “Um... anyway, that’s not all you can do with the internet. People use it for all sorts of things: you can look up the news, the weather, forums…”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. “What’s that? Sounds like a disease.”

Ah, where to start...

“Forums are online spaces where people can discuss things. You can host debates, provide instructions, and more. Personally, I use them to gush about things I love. Like books!”

Levi clicks his tongue. “So, a bookclub?”

“Mm, yes, and no. Like sure, on the forum I'm a mod for, I love to discuss the plot, the characters, and the writing, but I also just enjoy goofing around with my friends and sharing memes.”

“Me...mes.” Levi looks puzzled by this word.

You stifle a snort. “Memes are like... jokes. Only sometimes, they're also cultural staples.” At his skeptical expression, you shrug. “I guess this world is different from yours, in that respect. We have... less immediate dangers, more free time.”

“That's not a bad thing,” he mutters, tone oddly soft. He averts his tepid gaze, looking back to your blog as he exhales through his nose. “But your world still makes no sense to me. Especially all of this.”

He nods towards the web page.

“It’s okay, the internet takes a while to get used to," you say. "Even for me... I constantly feel like an old crone whenever I hear all the lingo kids are coming up with these days.”

“Hmph.”

Levi looks unimpressed. So, forums—and the internet, it seems—aren’t his thing. Probably for the better—the last thing you need right now is for him to realize there’s a whole fanbase devoted to discussing his character (not to mention the other, less PG-friendly aspects of the conversation).

“Hey, how about we take a break?" You tilt your head, flashing him an easy smile. "You’ve been staring at the screen all morning. It can be a strain on your eyesight.”

Levi’s half-lidded stare crinkles, his lips pursing into a thoughtful pout, the same look he gets whenever you throw him scraps of information about your world and its strange customs.

“I was planning to make some tea,” you add, “want a cup?”

“… if you're making one anyway,” he mumbles, scowling in a way that reminds you of a grumpy cat. Cute.

You head towards your small kitchen, grabbing Levi’s favorite tea bag and laying out clean cups. As the kettle groans alive and you eventually hear that familiar sizzling that tells you the water’s come to a boil, another noise coming from behind garners your attention.

“Oi, something happened to your cat photo-thing,” you overhear Levi drawl.

You turn with a raised brow.

That’s when you notice that Levi’s somehow ended up on your desktop page, the familiar sight of your screensaver (more cats!) appearing into view.

But that’s also when you notice the mouse is hovering dangerous close to one of your folders... your babygirl folder.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no...

“DON’T CLICK THAT!” you plead, attempting to rush to his side to avoid the embarrassment of a lifetime.

Too late. Levi has entered the folder and somehow managed to click on one of the more scandalous pictures; your peripheral catches his expression, and it's the most stupor you've seen on his face yet... and is that pink dusting his cheeks?

Because Levi is looking straight at one of the fanarts you’d saved of him months ago.

Where his pixelated counterpart is tied up. Stark naked.

Well, shit.

— Masterlist / Join my taglist

[irisintheafterglow]

so anyways secret relationship with volleyball player bf!suguru

"special delivery?"

he perks up when he hears your voice, turning to face you with a smile, dark eyes shining. he's still in his track jacket and his hair is down, so you figure they haven't started warmups yet. you were right on time.

"hey, pretty." he's trying so hard not to outwardly freak out that you're here, but excitement still seeps into his voice. he has to physically stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground; god forbid the rest of the team figured out he had a partner since keeping satoru's mouth shut was difficult enough. still, the reserved, cool guy façade always melts away when you're around. "what're you doing here?"

"eh, just came by to see my favorite player." you maintain a respectful distance from him, as if you didn't know every inch of his body like it was your own. as if you haven't memorized every line of corded muscle or rough patch on his hands. as if he wasn't yours.

"oh?" his pretty mouth quirks teasingly. "and who would that be? maybe i could help you find him." he takes a step toward you and, in turn, you step backward. his lips part in surprise and your knees threaten to give out from how hot his stare feels on your body.

"i don't think that'd be such a good idea."

he scoffs, finally understanding what you were doing. you liked playing this game with him before every match you were able to watch, seeing how far you could flirt with him and play hard to get before he breaks. he was good, but you were better.

"it wouldn't?" his eyebrows furrow, eyebrows that you had trimmed and cleaned up days before. the same eyes that looked up from your lap with so much love now narrowed with suspicion.

"no," you sigh with exaggerated dramatics, putting on your best fake pout. "i don't wanna break his concentration before such a big game. he tells me semi-finals are pretty important." and so are you, his mind is screaming. every nerve in his body just wants to touch you, hold you, show how much he loves you.

and you're exploiting every ounce of restraint he's struggling to hold down.

you turn to leave, hearing his breath hitch behind you, and take a few careful steps away from him. "maybe i'll catch him when he's done, though i do have a pretty busy schedule-" you smirk in triumph when his hand gently but firmly grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him and determinedly pressing his lips to yours. gossip be damned, you were driving him absolutely out of his mind. you smile against his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his nose before pulling away slightly to find his hands on your waist. your arms instinctually wrap around his neck like they have hundreds of times before. "hello, boyfriend."

"hello, lover. done with your silly game?"

"mhmm, because i'm the winner."

"how so?"

"got to skip out on some boring council summit to see my smoking hot boyfriend play with balls." his fingers pinch your side lightly and you yelp.

"it's only one ball," he corrects while dropping his voice to a suggestive volume, "and maybe we can discuss later what you know about playing with balls." your face feels like it was set on fire as he laughs and you try to wiggle out of his grip to no avail, opting to lightheartedly slap his bicep. "oops. too far?"

"get your mind out of the gutter. this is what i mean by distracting you before a game."

"to be fair, i was only joining you in the gutter; you were there first. also, i don't understand why you think i won't get distracted every time you're around."

"should i stop coming around, then?"

his face becomes lethally serious. "don't you fucking dare."

you chuckle, finally remembering why you went to find him before the game in the first place. "oh, you left these at my place and i figured you'd need them today," you say while you fish around in your bag for black hairties. he looks at you like you painted all the stars in the sky when you motion him to turn around and pull his hair back into a sturdy bun. when you're done, he sneaks a quick kiss to your temple before you can pull away, and then several more for good measure. "what happened to 'i want to keep this a secret,' sweetheart?"

"sorry, i tend to lose my composure when my smoking hot council president ditches events for me." he nudges his nose against yours sweetly and your eyes flutter shut.

"it's okay, i'm sure they'll forgive you." when you open a single eye, wary of the sudden silence, you catch several shocked pairs of eyes over suguru's muscled shoulder. satoru is watching with his hands raised in surrender, as if to say that it wasn't his fault. "however, you may have some explaining to do to the others."

"that can wait," he murmurs. "i need to focus on winning now that my biggest distraction is here."

my mind is a cacophony of vb player satoru, vb player suguru, hq sakusa, and hq suna and i'm having a hard time distinguishing who is who at this point LMAO but anyways hope you liked this <3

[lighthouseshepard]

felt inspired by this insanely gorgeous piece of art that i cant get out of my head by @mikonez and my hand slipped (posting it here with their permission! ❤️)

"John?" Arthur murmurs, cracking one eye slowly open. "Is that you?"

Among the haze of his vision, a blend of shifting shadows and points of flickering light like radio static made tangible, he barely makes out the figure standing at the edge of the bed. If he had half a mind more than what he currently possessed, the sight might have set his nerves on edge. As it stood, fighting against the dredges of sleep which sought to keep him under, the familiar silhouette was nothing but a cause for another kind of concern.

"John?" he asks a second time. With a mumbled groan he picks his head up off the pillow, straining to see. "Are you alright?"

The figure shifts. John steps up to the side of the bed, walking through the wide beam of moonlight piercing soft and silver through the windowpane. In its gentle illumination the long, silken strands of black hair falling across his shoulders and down his back seemed to hold a faint glow.

"Hi, Arthur," he says quietly, uncharacteristically subdued. "Did I wake you?"

Even after a week of hearing that voice aloud he couldn't get used to it. The distinct and velvety rumble of John's words was stronger outside of his own head. Kinder somehow, too. Though they no longer carried the undercurrent of an echo, something of the god remained when he spoke.

"Hmm? No, no, you didn't." Arthur holds back a yawn. "I think I was dreaming."

"Oh?" 

John drifts closer. The pajama pants and shirt they'd bought for him fit loosely on his new frame, creating the image of a man slouching uncertainly. Arthur couldn't tell if he truly was hunched or not, all six feet and more of him trying to appear as small as possible.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Honestly? I don't remember. A field of flowers, maybe. Something golden." Lifting his head further, he squints. "John, are you okay?"

Expressions on his face were surprisingly easy to read. Before they separated John theorized that he'd need to learn how to show emotion, that it wouldn't come naturally after getting his own body. His worry eventually fizzled into frustration when the opposite became true - every feeling, every fleeting thought, any inkling of desire was visible on his face from day one. He couldn't hide anything no matter how hard he tried. A lack of poker face, Arthur told him, but he failed to see how a card game came into play.

"I'm fine." He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Again?" At this Arthur props himself up on one elbow, both eyes focusing fully. "This is the third night you’ve woken up. You're not too cold, are you?"

"I don't... think so?" John replies, frowning. "I don't feel cold, anyway. If anything I'm itchy."

A flash of amusement shines in Arthur's tired smile. "I imagine clothes are going to take some getting used to, yes."

"That’s an understatement," John grumbles. He picks absently at the hem of his shirt. "I don't see why these are necessary."

"Because it's freezing outside and in, and you'll likely catch a cold without them. Plus-"

He waves him off. "I know. Societal conventions. Whatever. You're not wearing a shirt, I might add," he points out stubbornly.

"That's because I'm never cold."

"Do you even have a blanket?"

Arthur gazes up at him pointedly. "John, what's on your mind?"

Rubbing one arm with his hand, he glances down at his bare feet. Ten new fingers, ten toes. Entirely too many to deal with on top of everything else. "Like I said. I couldn't sleep."

"Right," Arthur says empathetically. His smile begins to dwindle, lips pulling downward. "I can't imagine it's an easy task, John. You are learning how to for the first time, essentially."

"Yeah, well," he huffs. "Instead of getting easier it's slipping further away from me."

"Are you still having those dreams?"

"I wouldn't call them dreams, Arthur." More along the lines of nightmares.”

"Right," Arthur repeats, mumbling. "No, of course not."

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, studying what he could of John in the moonlight. Although his sight had yet to return fully, the slow progress was enough of a lifeline to keep him at ease, for now. Neither could have predicted how the ritual would turn out, and for them to both emerge alive, first and foremost, was an odd little cosmic blessing in itself.

After a week John was still adjusting. Arthur didn't blame him in the slightest, but the empathy he felt for his situation wasn't always well received. John, so far at least, tended to misconstrue it as pity regardless of how many assurances he was given. 

As Arthur gazes up at him, he notes two things: among the frustration worrying a crease into his brow, another more poignant emotion lingered underneath, so far removed from what shape he knew longing to take that it swung all the way back around into desperation; and John, arms now crossed along his torso, was shivering.

"John, you're - come here," Arthur says without a second thought. "Take my blanket, take something. Where's yours?"

"In the other room." Hesitantly he sits on the edge of the bed. A body still so weak from all it had endured made for difficult navigation. Muscles and limbs he was figuring out how to control never seemed to want to bend easily to his will.

"Why didn't you bring it with you? You’re clearly freezing."

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to be near you."

"Oh."

In the silver tinted darkness, he reaches out a hand. At the touch on his arm John startles, glancing down. He doesn’t pull away.

"Listen, John," Arthur says quietly, "why don't you just stay here tonight?"

"What?"

"Stay here with me. There's plenty of room. You're tall, yes, but you aren't going to fall off the end. It might... help, that's all. And-"

He swallows. "Truthfully, I miss you over there."

The offer doesn't sit so much as float between them, a gauzy, gentle thing. John studies Arthur's face, all his various scars, the hint of gold in his gaze now subtler for his absence. How peculiar for those features he knew better than the ones he had now to be reversed, no longer viewed from behind a mirror’s reflection.

"Okay," he says simply.

John leans forward, stretching out over him. Wide eyes follow his movements, lips parted slightly in a question Arthur couldn't quite get out, but he doesn't dare move. Long legs straddle just below his waist, forcing his head back down onto the pillow. Sections of silken hair slip forward off John's shoulders as he comes into view, hovering over Arthur with a kind of familiarity and trust that leaves them both a little breathless. One hand cradles his cheek, and Arthur feels his own slip unthinkingly beneath the fabric of John's shirt to splay steadily along the warmth of his stomach.

"Hey," Arthur whispers, smiling. "When I said stay here, I didn't mean on top of me."

"You didn't tell me not to, though," John hums. A thumb brushes across Arthur's jaw. "You're warm."

"And suffocating.” 

“Mm. Do you want me to move?’

 Breath not his own whispers against his mouth. Their faces were only inches apart. It would be so easy to kiss him now, he thinks, repeat the way they’d all but crashed against each other upon coming out from that ritual weak and coughing but alive, not thinking anything save for the gratitude they couldn't figure out how else to express.

They hadn't talked about it afterwards, too focused on the everything which came after. Arthur wonders if he would taste any differently fresh out of a bad dream, settled somewhat into new limbs. He stares up in abstract wonder, hoping one day soon he would be able to see the person above him with enough clarity to fully appreciate what hard won circumstance gave them both. 

“Arthur?” John asks. His voice drops to a low rumble, expression searching and hopeful. Though he looked just as exhausted as Arthur felt, a quiet fire was beginning to brim behind his eyes.

“What?” he stutters out. “Sorry, John.”

“I asked if you wanted me to move.” That caressing hand drifts upwards, brushing through auburn hair mussed from sleep. “Is this okay? I don't want to go back to the other room.”

“No, John, it's - no, wait, don't go!” He grips John’s hip with a force that startles them both when he begins to pull away. “I meant no, you don't have to go back. You can stay here. It's okay,” he adds, pulse a flutter caught in his throat. “It's alright.” 

John exhales in relief. “Thanks. I, um… I fucking hate it, Arthur,” he admits softly. “Not having you next to me, I mean. It doesn't feel right, sleeping alone. Not that sleeping overall feels right, but…”

“Yeah, John,” Arthur sighs, “it doesn't feel the same to me, either.”

“Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you kiss me again?” 

“I - what?”

A body starved for connection from the first moment of its tangible conception lays out along him, chest flush to his own scarred torso. Parts of John felt only in passing were suddenly closer than they ever had been previously: knees on either side of his thighs, a waist he grasped with both hands, arms and elbows and a brief glimpse of collarbone from beneath the shirt slipping off one shoulder. All the indelicate human pieces which comprised someone distinctly inhuman pressed against him, imbued with a fervency reminiscent of an ocean trying to return to the droplet from where it first originated - and it aches.

Arthur answers his question.

It’s nothing like the first, yet still an inkling of similar desperation colors the way their lips meet. They don’t collide so much as come together solidly in the middle, both tilting their heads forward to close the few inches that remained. John’s mouth is warm and firm, his hesitation lasting for only a second, and Arthur kisses him with as much conviction as he can muster without losing himself in the process. His arms move from John’s hips to wrap around his back, pulling him closer still. When they part by necessity for breath alone, each gasping quietly into the dim, Arthur struggles to speak.

“Yeah,” he rasps out. “You can stay, John. I don’t - I don’t want you sleeping anywhere else from now on.”

John grins down at him. “Good,” he says, and leans in anew. 

[iamthemain-character]

To Fall

xaden riorson x fem!reader

CW: Canonical violence, brief suggestive language

A/N: I'm currently reading Iron Flame so this is just based off Fourth Wing knowledge! Don't come for me lol

Song: I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier

I feel lighter than I have in so much time

I've crossed the border line of weightless

One deep breath out from the sky

I've reached a rarer height now that I can confirm

All our weight is just a burden offered to us by the world

The first sensation you notice when you stir from your rest is the weight of your lover’s arm around your waist. You can feel the way his hand rests just under your breast, gentle compared to its touch just a few hours ago. You keep your eyes closed, savoring the peaceful intimacy of this moment. Your hand lifts from the mattress, trailing your fingers over the lines of his forearms, not needing sight to trace the familiar scars. You’ve gazed at these arms long enough, felt their strength, that you know each muscle as if it is your own.

“Good morning, beautiful.” The husky morning voice of Xaden curls around your ear, the sound traveling straight down to your heart. You feel his hard chest press against your shoulder blades as he pulls you in closer, his warmth permeating your skin, heating you up from the inside out. You could feel the bridge of his nose as he pressed his face into your hair, lips finding the bits of skin through the curtain of hair that fell over your shoulders. His hand pressed a little firmer against your ribs, as if he could meld you into his body through sheer strength. Not that you would have minded; you never felt as complete as you did when you were right against Xaden.

It was difficult to say what moments with Xaden were your favorite. He was an all consuming sort of lover, always giving his most in every second he spent in your presence. Yet the soft mornings, when the sun had not yet dared to cast her gaze over the earth, you perhaps cherished most. Xaden was entirely yours in those moments; not a Wingleader, not the leader of a rebellion, but just the man who loved you. And the man you loved fiercely in return. The bond between the two of you felt as fierce as dragons’, a desperate need to be near one another, to share in every part of your being.

Unlike dragons, however, the world tore the two of you apart. Your assignment to the front lines brought a chill into your bed, one that not even all of Xaden’s affection could brush away. You longed to give into his touches, the kisses that made you feel as if you were high above the world, but the knowledge that every minute brought you closer to your departure forced you to be sensible.

“You’re thinking.” Xaden murmurs, the plush of his lips ghosting over the curve of your ear.

“Always.” You sigh in return, turning your head to look into his eyes. There’s a shine in his Onyx irises, a light that you proudly note you bring to his life. You reach up your hand, trailing it over the path of stubble that covers his jawline. He makes a sound of contentment, one that you feel rumble in his chest, and he presses his head further into your touch.

“You’re going to need to write down all of those pretty thoughts for me.” He murmurs, brushing his lips against your palm, following the map of its creases.

“Most of them are going to be about you anyways.” You give a soft breath of laughter, knowing you would willingly write down every word for him if he asked.

“Even better.” He insists, moving his kisses to the pulsepoint at your wrist, as if he could kiss your very heart. “That means they’ll match mine.”

Your chest swells, and suddenly it's like your ribs have been cinched in, making your throat close in on itself. Your eyes prick with tears, and you blink rapidly, trying to push them away. You slip your hand to the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers with the messy curls, savoring the silky sensation. “I’m going to miss you.” You whisper, the words only audible for Xaden, as if the walls themselves will hear you and shame your vulnerability. But here, in the bed, with only his ears listening in, you know you can allow yourself the emotions too often denied in the life of a rider.

“As will I.” Xaden replies, his tone low and gentle. “But you will be back soon.” He says the words so easily, voice as calm as the morning itself. But his arms tighten their hold on you, his hands pressing flat against your hip and your stomach, pulling your body as tightly against his as possible without crushing you. There's a desperation in his hold, and you think that he may be clinging to you rather than holding. Every time you leave, there's the unspoken knowledge between the two of you that you may not return. The uncertainty of life comes with the job, and with the warlike state on the front lines, mercy has turned her gaze away from the world.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” Your words are soft, but your tone is underlined with a plea. You know all too well how Xaden pushes himself when you are not there, pushing himself beyond his limit in his efforts to fulfill all the roles that fall on his–alebit perfect–shoulders.

“You’re the one we should be worrying about.” Xaden murmurs, his hands turning your body over so you’re facing him. His hand leaves your hip, coming up to stroke back your messy hair. “I hate knowing that I won’t be there to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.” You reassure him, your words truthful. You have more than enough skills to fend for yourself, and years of experience have trained you to be a dangerous opponent.

Xaden’s thick brows furrow, drawing together between his dark eyes. “You shouldn’t have to.” He growls, his fingers on your waist digging in a little, most likely adding a few more bruises to his marks littering your body. “I should be there to protect you, to make sure that you’re safe. I don’t want anyone laying a hand on you.”

The fire in his words burns straight to your heart, making your skin tingle with the warmth. Even though it's not possible to let Xaden defend you at all times, the very knowledge that he would so passionately protect you from all harm makes you fall in love a little more. “You’re needed here. The cadets have so much to learn, and they really can’t protect themselves.” You pause, your voice softening. “Especially yours.”

He nods, and you watch his shoulders tense as he is reminded of all the people he is responsible for. You’ve traced those 107 scars more times than you could count, kissed everyone as a silent promise to help him. So much rode on keeping those boys and girls safe.

“Just promise you’ll come back to me.” He says, his dark voice tinted with need.

“Always.”

And though I burn how could I fall?

When I am lifted by every word you say to me

If anything could fall at all, it's the world

That falls away from me

The hands of smoke are curled around your esophagus, choking out every last clean breath from your lungs. Your entire body ached, encrusted in your flight leathers from the amount of blood that you had been bathed in. Furthermore, it was unclear how much was yours versus the enemy’s, but you kept pushing yourself, knowing there would be no peace until every one of the Poromish fighters backed off, or more tragically, were dead. Your heart hurt even more than your wounded body when you thought of the innocent people who were dying, wondering how Nevarre would twist this battle to be blamed on the Gryphon riders and not the true enemy.

You climbed back onto your dragon, the two of you taking to the skies to evaluate the battlefield. The landscape was a nightmare painted by the cruelest of artists, the dirt turned to reddish mud from the sheer amount of blood spilt. It was a small relief to see the battle finally winding down, though it may only be because there was no one left to fight. You and your dragon flew out to the edge of the wards, continuing to look for anywhere that your aide might be needed.

Suddenly, your stomach turned into a sinkhole, swallowing up any seed of relief that might have been planted. The edge of the wards had moved, evidently from further weakening of the stones, and suddenly you and your dragon were exposed. Your dragon quickly banked left to dive back into the safety of Nevarre, but just a second too late. You felt metal hit your neck, right at the junction of your shoulder, pain shooting out like lightning from the point of impact. Your functionality disappeared with the jolt of pain, as suddenly you felt nothing at all. Except, the world was tilting, and rather than seeing the neck of your dragon, you were looking up at it, watching as it grew smaller and smaller. In the haze that surrounded your brain, you wondered if you were falling.

You wondered if Xaden had eaten that morning.

And then you thought nothing at all as darkness consumed you.

You have me floatin' like a feather on the sea

While you're as heavy as the world

That you hold your hands beneath

Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground

But I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down

You were warm. Your entire body seemed to protest against its existence, but you were warm. And surrounded by softness. You opened your eyes–the action taking more effort than it should–and had to blink away the blearyness that blurred your vision. As you looked at the ceiling, noting the beams of dark wood that arched the ceiling, you couldn’t help but think that this looks like Xaden’s bedroom in Aretia.

Your eyes confirmed your suspicions as they slowly moved over the room, spotting the familiar wardrobe, dresser, and desk. All of which were places that you were familiar for far less than innocent reasons, but knew nonetheless. Hope slipped out of its cocoon, fluttering her new wings in your heart as you looked towards the door, looking for the owner of both the room and your heart. And your hope took flight, soaring through your body as you saw Xaden’s head resting atop his arm, his tall body slumped over the edge of the bed. His other hand grasped yours, a desperate need in his grip even as he slept.

You had seen the way his hands could wield daggers, swords, clubs even–not to mention the dark and powerful shadows that he could conjure with barely any movement at all. But to you, those hands held up your entire world. You knew that his calloused palms could hold you in a way that took away any fear, could convince you of his deepest affections, and could bestow a love within yourself so deep that you forgot to be insecure.

Softly, you ran your thumb over the curve of his knuckles, smiling to yourself as you gazed at your beloved. Despite your stiff muscles, you pushed through the ache to shift downward on the bed, curling up beside his head. At the sensation of the mattress dipping, Xaden’s head shot up, his hand constricting around yours. For a moment, his eyes are dark and wild, as if he’s ready to manifest that darkness around whoever threatens him. But then he focuses on you, and immediately they soften into the gentle depths that you’ve lost yourself in countless times.

“My love…” Xaden’s voice is hoarse, the usual strength gone as water wells in his eyes. His fingers flex as he resists gripping you so tightly, afraid he’ll break you.

“Hi.” Your own voice is soft, scratchy as it begs for water. But what’s more important is having the love of your life closer, and so you open your arms, wanting to feel Xaden fill them. He immediately responds, up from his seat in a flash and letting the mattress take his weight. His own arms envelope you, barely restrained from simply crushing your body to his chest. Your arms feel weak from lack of use, but you grip onto the man as tightly as you can, your fingers finding root in his dark curls.

You press your nose into the little gap between his neck and his uniform, inhaling deeply. An ocean of scent fills your mind, washing your body over with comfort and ease. He smells like the tall pines that surround Aretia, of the dark leather that was molded to his form, and the warm skin that laid underneath. It was the scent of home.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Xaden’s voice is a growl, but you know him well enough to hear the worry and care in the rough words.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You whisper softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his stubbled jaw.

Xaden lets out a shaky breath, hands tightening on your nightdress, seemingly unconvinced that you’re not going to suddenly disappear. “I should have been there.”

“There was no way you could have been.” You counter, trying to soothe him.

“I should have been there to protect you.” Xadens voice comes out dangerously low, frustration dripping off his words.

“You have a duty-”

“My duty is to you, dammit.” He takes a deep breath, trying to control his voice. “There is nothing I would prioritize over you. Let them strip my rank from me, let this whole rebellion fall apart again, I will not lose you.” Xaden murmurs the words like they’re an oath, like he needs you to let him dedicate his life to you. “If I need to live and die at your hand, then so be it. You are the only thing that matters. Nothing else.”

For a long moment, your words fail you, Xaden’s passionate vow stealing any protest or promise from your mind. “I love you” simply wasn’t enough to convey the depth of emotion and connection the two of you shared.

You leaned back a little, fingers brushing the curls at the nape of his neck as you gazed into his gleaming onyx eyes. “Then live at my hand.” You softly request, your own voice as insistent. “I don’t want your sacrifice. I want you, here, with me, until we both draw our final breaths.”

Now, it was Xaden’s turn to lack a response, the words weighing heavily on his heart. His whole adult life, he had been prepared to die for his cause, for what he believed in. But to live for something? To live for you? It was something he never considered; but if it was all you wanted, then by the gods he would do it.

“I’ll live for you, my love.” He murmurs, and he brings your empty hand to his lips, lightly kissing the tips of your fingers, then down to the palm, and finally kissing your pulse point. Your wrist throbbed steadily, reminding him of just how precious living was.

Leave it now, I am sky-bound

If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me

We'll float away, but if we fall

I only pray, don't fall away from me

Xaden meant it literally when he said he would live and die at your hand. He did not leave your side unless absolutely necessary, and even then he’d always drag one of his friends in to watch over you, despite your protests that you were fine. Still, it was a little endearing, seeing how much he cared for you.

The healing process was slow, the poison from the arrow having done a lot of damage to your body. But you made steady recovery, taking the medicine you needed to, getting rest as well, though the latter often had to be enforced by Xaden himself. It worked both ways, however, as you would often convince the man of shadows to rest as well by welcoming him into the warm bed.

Walking proved to be the most difficult task during your healing period. Your body had been so violently ill with the poison, as well as the wounds you took during the actual battle, that you had been greatly weakened. That, in addition to you being bed ridden for some time, only added to the issue. When you started to literally get back on your feet, however, Xaden’s arms held you, preventing you from collapsing, encouraging every step. In the moments when you would grow too fatigued, he’d scoop you into those same arms to return to his room.

At first, you were frustrated with your inability to do such a basic thing, feeling like a dead weight on Xaden’s shoulders. But as each day passed, you came to cherish those walks through the halls of his home, his arm around your waist, warm and sure. Xaden himself relaxed more during those times, allowing himself to speak freely and enjoy the borrowed time you two shared.

It was during one of these outings that the two of you wandered down a hallway you had previously not explored. It was quiet, with a few pieces of art or items that had been salvaged from the original house. And then your eyes landed on a portrait; it was vast, spreading across the majority of the wall, showing off the smallest of details the artist put in. There was a man, strong and proud, and a woman beside him, looking gentle and wise. But what drew your eye the most was the depiction of the young boy between them, head held high, dark onyx eyes staring directly at the viewer.

The same onyx eyes that stared at you.

“Thats Mom and Dad.” Xaden’s voice is soft, sounding more vulnerable and childlike than you have ever heard before. You glance at him, seeing the bittersweet smile that ghosts over his features. His strong hand grips at your waist a little tighter, as if he needs a reminder that you’re still here, that he didn’t lose you too.

“You look just like your father.” You remark, your voice as tender as your beating heart for Xaden and his family that you’ll never get to meet. “But your smile is like your mother’s.”

Xaden’s smile grows more real, his eyes looking over you, full of gratitude and hope from your words. “She would have liked you. Both of them, I think.”

“I would hope so.” You muse, studying the people in the portrait. You wonder what it would have been like to actually know them, to be able to note what traits your beloved shared with his parents. Seeing the portrait of his father seemed so different from the traitorous man depicted in all of the history books. “What was he really like?”

Xaden tensed beside you, as if the thought of what you must “know” about his father made him defensive. Yet he just squeezed your waist, perhaps a reminder to himself that you weren’t there to burn his memories too. “He was a good man. Not perfect, but a good man. The kind I wish I could be.”

For a moment you let the weight of his words sink onto the two of you, the air thick with the hopes and fears that formed your very lives. You both knew that you and Xaden would carry the blood on your hands for the rest of your lives; even if you won the war, there would never be a moment you could truly say that you were good. But perhaps Xaden’s father felt the same.

“We’re going to finish what he started.” You say quietly, placing your hand over Xaden’s heart. The motion draws his gaze to you, his eyes seeming to come back from whatever far off place his mind sailed to. “We’re going to make this world the kind he would have wanted.”

Xaden doesn’t say anything, just placing his calloused hand on top of yours, his thumb stroking your cool skin. “He wanted things to be better for me.” He whispers, his voice raspy with choked emotion. “I want things to be better for our kids. I want them to be able to choose who they are.”

The idea of “our kids” doesn’t go unnoticed, making your heart flutter as you are reminded just how much Xaden truly wants a future with you. “We’re making things better for all of us. For our friends, our future kids…” You pause, smiling a little, “For us. And we’ll be able to share the story of just how wonderful your father truly was.’

You could have been an angel from above, the way Xaden gazed at you as you spoke; his eyes were reverent, full of devotion, holy and unholy. “For us.” He echoes, like it's another vow to strengthen his heart. A vow that he seals with a kiss to your lips.

I do not have wings, love, I never will

Soarin' over a world you are carryin'

If these heights should bring my fall

Let me be your own

Icarian carrion

Once you fully recovered, Xaden still wanted to keep you in Aretia. The very idea of you returning to Baisgaith just to possibly be sent away again didn’t settle well with his protective heart. Still, you were determined, and just as stubborn as he was, so he begrudgingly agreed that you would return with him.

Despite your lover’s disgruntled attitude towards your decision, the flight back was gratifying for both of you. Side by side, your dragons never strayed from one another, and neither did the two of you. During the few stops that were made, Xaden was quick to encase you in his arms, often allowing himself to indulge in some kisses that increased the time of your journey. If Xaden had been doting before, the near loss of you had only made him even more devoted to claiming every moment he could.

This only became more apparent once the two of you returned to Baisgaith, reciting your perfected story of your terrible injury and how Xaden had managed to nurse you back to health. Leadership, of course, wanted to take you away so they could get the full report;you could have sworn Xaden was a dragon himself from his barely contained irritation at being forced to leave your side.

It wasn’t until the sun had set that you were finally allowed to return to your quarters, having had the details of your experience laid out and rehashed time and time again. Leadership could not find a flaw in your story, however, and eventually let you go with a welcome back to the citadel. You were a little tired, pent up with frustration at your lying authorities, and ready to be back in Xaden’s arms.

Your feet barely had time to step through the door, however, before shadows consumed you, slamming the door shut, nearly splintering it off the hinges. Immediately, heat rose in your body, Xaden’s desire palpable through the little control he had over his powers.

“Finally.” His voice whispers, low and husky with lust against your neck, his nose pressing into the soft skin. “I was beginning to think I’d have to come get you myself.”

You inhale deeply, the distinctive smell that you know and adore filling your senses as you lean back against his strong body. He’s already shirtless, his heated skin making you wonder how long he was waiting for you, like a predator ready to pounce and claim. “You know how long these things go. Trying to make sure I’m not a traitor.”

“Of course.” He darkly chuckles, pressing warm, open mouth kisses up the curve of your neck, biting softly behind your ear. “Don’t you know I’m filling your head with all kinds of nasty plans?”

“You certainly fill my head with filthy thoughts, my love, but I don’t think it's the kind the government cares about.” You hum in reply, smiling to yourself as you feel his hands wander down your body.

His long fingers find the buckles of your flight leathers, popping them open with practiced ease. “Well well, perhaps it should be my turn to interrogate that pretty little mind of yours.” His voice curls into a coil in your stomach, stirring up your desire. “I would love to know just what I can make you imagine.” His hands continue their work on your pants, continuing the progressive removal of your layers.

Once you’re undressed, he spins you around, his hands ghosting over the shape of your body before settling on your hips. His thumbs press into the hollow below the bone, his fingers splaying over the curve of your ass. It’s not unlike watching your dragons lay claim to their possessions, the way he grips onto you, but his possessive nature only stokes the fire in your belly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss over your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin. “Gods, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You murmur your honest reply, your skin tingling with the sensation of his touch.

“I mean it.” He murmurs, biting at your collarbone before lifting his gaze to meet yours. “My whole heart, it belongs to you. I am completely, madly, and truly in love with you.”

Xaden is always such a man of action that you’ve never really had to doubt if he loved you. But as the words melt over your body, casting warmth like the early morning sun, you are taken by just how truly loved you are. “I feel the same.” Your words hardly seem equal, but Xaden’s smile reassures you that he is pleased.

“I want you to always be mine.” His voice has dropped, as if he wants only you to hear his words. His dark eyes glimmer in the little light of the room, making your stomach turn with anticipation. “I want to be able to love you for the rest of our lives. I want to have a life with you by my side.”

You watch as Xaden takes your left hand into his, his calloused palms comforting against your own smaller hands. His thumb brushes over your ring finger, sending a thrill through your heart.

“I can’t make you any promises right now.” Xaden murmurs, love radiating off of every single syllable that leaves his lips. “And I want to do this properly when the time comes, with a ring, and a beautiful setting. I want to get down on one knee so you know that I’m serious when I say I want to worship you for the rest of my life.” He looks up, finding your eyes, giving a small, tender smile. “But for now, all I can ask is that you’ll be mine. In whatever comes our way, whether we have one minute together or one hundred years, I want to know that I get to give my time to you. If you’ll have me.”

You blink, your eyes filling with water as you listen to his words. “Xaden…”You whisper, your voice choked with emotion. You swallow your heart, unable to contain the smile on your lips as you cup his jaw, thumbs stroking the stubble there. “No matter how far we go, no matter what we do…I am yours. Truly and irrevocably. Even if we fall, I won’t fall away from you.”

Xaden feels his own eyes smart with unshed tears, and so he gathers you into his arms, burying his face into your neck. You can hear him murmur soft “thank you”s and “I love you”s against your skin, his hands running down your back. You smile at his reaction, and you slip your hand into his hair, lifting his face enough so you can press your lips against his, pouring out your heart to him through your touch. Xaden immediately reciprocates, his heart always hungry for you, and his lips move demandingly, pulling you in deeper.

He lets out a needy huff, and his hands find your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his hips. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He requests against your lips, sounding like a man desperate for water.

“I’m all yours.”

Xaden holds nothing back as he kisses you again, his tongue demanding its way between your lips, savoring your taste on his lips. He swiftly moves across the room, his bed becoming his altar as he lays you down onto it. He takes a moment, eyes moving over your body, as if he could commit every mark and line to memory. He takes your hands, his own strong and capable, but gentle as they hold you, and he presses kisses over the ridges of your knuckles. “And I, my love..I am all yours.”

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall

Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

If I should fall, on that day

I only pray, don't fall away from me

“Fen Xander Riorson, be nice to your sister!”

Xaden smiled to himself, hearing your voice carry over the springtime air. The sun was setting over the mountains of Aretia, the new grass soft under his body. As far as his eye could see, he saw the prosperous new settlements, the homes and businesses of his friends and family thriving within the new age. It was a sight he thought would only ever be fantasy at one point.

As he feels your familiar hands smooth over his shoulders, your soft lips pressing against his temple, he is reminded just how real his life is.

“That is your son.” You murmur in his ear, coming to sit beside him on the flowering hill.

Xaden chuckles softly, reaching out to snake an arm around your waist. “Our son.” He reminds you, nuzzling into your hair, inhaling your scent. Even after all these years and two kids, he still feels the intense need to just have you. “He gets his stubbornness from you.”

You huff, feigning indignation, but your wide smile gives away your true feelings. You lean against Xaden’s side, watching as your son ignores any reprimands and continues to chase his squealing little sister through the field. “He gets his rebellious side from you.”

Xaden lets out a small snort of laughter, his arm tightening around your waist. He doesn’t deny it, knowing that the two children both take after their parents. It was his greatest joy, being able to watch the very humans the two of you had created grow up and discover themselves. You had fulfilled your promise, after all; the world they knew was much kinder to them than it had been to him. His marks and his scars would always remind him of that.

Xaden’s gaze looks over you, the form of his beloved wife, and it only makes his smile grow. Gray hairs are beginning to intermix with your natural color, denoting the time that has passed within your body. You moan and complain about them, but he sees them as a mark that you two not only survived, but lived. Truly lived. And now, the fruits of your labor only grew in abundance every day.

“I love you.” He softly murmurs in your ear,, his hand brushing away the hair so he can press a kiss to your neck.

You smile up at him, a little surprised at the sudden words, but delighted by them nonetheless. “And I love you.” You reply, your words full of truth and affection.

The two of you return to watching the children play, and the sun continues to disappear with the last few moments of day. But now, you and Xaden simply note it as a passing thought, your love no longer on borrowed time. The night will only bring another day, with the promise of letting you cherish every moment, never to be parted again

[ratcash-wasgud]

this is my first time requesting here and im so nervous since the idea itself is so cheesy. could we have a modern au loser mizu who listens to "pasilyo" (a filipino song about wanting to get married so badly to someone; i highly recommend listening its so addicting!) and immediately thinks of her crush. thank you sm!

hel lovely!!!!! omg this is such a cute idea...it would be a shame if someone...have added some smut....hm...

anyways i kept this short, just to not overdo the vibe hihi

and you were right, it IS addicting. mwah.

Peonies

"I told you, I don't plan on doing that. Stop trying to play matchmaker, Mama." Mizu grumbles into the phone as she agressively spreads butter onto a slice of toast.

Her mother called her up again, which is always...well, a bother. She just nags her about settling down, even if she's still in college, finding a good boyfriend, getting married, having kids and basically giving up on everything she ever wanted. This is the reason she could never come out to her mother.

These talks always makes her hate the idea of marriage. Why would she ever tie herself down? Plus, it's a stupid old tradition. Plus, it's not even legal where she lives. It's just dumb to even think about it.

"No. I'm just busy." Mizu shrugs as she bites into the toast, still holding the phone up to her ear. Her mom keeps scolding her about ruining the family's name if she refuses to get married.

After about ten agonizing minutes, she hangs up. She lands on her bed with a groan. And just when she thinks she found peace, her phone lights up with a notification. It's a text from a groupchat called Tea Party with Eeyore, which has Ringo, Taigen, Akemi, and you in it.

ringo: omgomg look!

ringo: *a picture of you holding up a full tray of freshly baked pinagong.*

ringo: she helped me with my pastry of the week!!!

taigen: what even is that?

ringo: it's a type of fillipino bread! i learned it in baking class today.

you: we even made a whole playlist of fillipino songs to listen to while we bake :DDD

*you sent the link to the playlist.*

ringo: yup. we got into the mood, if you will

akemi: ringo, sweetie, that could have douple meanings

ringo: oh

The name is a dumb inside joke from that one time Akemi came up with the idea that having blue as a main color and being grumpy is enough for her to be just like Eeyore. She remembers you laughed so hard when she contined this line of thinking and matched Taigen with Tigger, because they're both annoying It's only because of that she doesn't mind this whole thing. She loves your laugh.

Mizu had a crush on you ever since she met you. It wasn't a hard crush to develop, honestly. You were kind for no reason, had eyes with stars in them, always full of energy while wearing the brightest smile she ever seen. You were just generally lovely. She was sure Taigen also had a crush on you at some point, which always irritated her, even if she never planned on making a move.

Mizu was content with the way things were. She was silently loving you from afar while you shined your bright light on her withouth even noticing. You made her happy if you didn't know.

She rolled over to her side, and tapped on the link you sent to the playlist. You had great taste in music, so if you were able to vive to these songs, they can't be that bad.

Then as the playlists starts playing, she hears a couple notes of an electric guitar, and she lightly shivers. Pasilyo was the first song. She never heard about it, but the melody quickly captured her.

She stared up the ceiling and she imagined you and Ringo listening to this song. She imagines you accidentaly spilling flour all over yourself, getting some on your face as you laugh, and she imagines her hand softly wiping it off. She imagines you sitting infront of the oven, staring at the growing pastry dough as it bakes, and having that bright and excited smile on your face when you succesfully decide that yes, it has gotten bigger since the last minute you checked. You'd look at her with big doe eyes when she tells you that it's time to do the dishes afterwards, singlaing how much you don't wanna. And of couse, she'd wash them instead of you, without hesitation. You'd hug her from behind as she does them, and hum the song in her ear, rocking your hips with hers playfully while your soft cheek is squished against her shoulder.

She sudenly wonders if that's how married life would look like with you. Damn, Mama has gotten into her head. But she doesn't mind it if it's like this. Would getting married really be horrible if it was with you? She decies on a firm no. You'd be the loveliest bride.

A bride she'd love to tie herself down to.

You'd stand there, at the altar, wearing all white and holding a big bouquet of daisies, camellias and lakspurs...maybe even peonies.

Yeah...definetly peonies. There would also be peony petals on the floor, scattered across, and one in your hair. Behind your ear...or one holding up your veil.

You'd smile when you see her on the other end of the aisle, like you see your future in her eyes. Your eyes would focus only on her, and your hand would squeeze hers for comfort as she says her vows. She'd kiss you with all her might in that moment. She'd pick you up and carry you away while you both laugh into eachothers faces.

She'd wake up to you every day of the week. To your soft cheeks squiched up against the pillow, your hand around her, and your breathing tickling her skin. She'd never want to get out of bed. She'd wake up hours earlier just to cuddle your sleeping form.

When you'd stir, you'd look into her eyes with your still hazy ones, and plant a good morning kiss on her forehead. In return Mizu would kiss your cheek, then your nose, then your jaw...then your neck, then your chest...

She'd put her hands on your breats, softly squeezing them as she teases them through your thin pajama top. She'd want it to be casual, domesticated, but still so, so exciting to make love to you.

She'd slowly get on top of you, and get lost in the way you're looking up at her. She'd slowly lift your top, and press her knee between your legs. Oh, how'd you tremble. You'd look up at her all needy, she'd have no option but to help you.

Her tongue would softly curcple your nipple, dry lips wrapping around it to trap it, all for herself. Her hand would slowly find it's way inside your pajama pants, long fingers sliding through your lips. She'd toy with you slick, because she knows it's there because of her. She'd bathe in the feeling of your clit pulsing for her before sliding her fingers inside, massagnig your inner walls. She'd coo in your ear, because you're just so precious when she's inside you like this. You turn into a ragdoll, and you can't do anything but whimper for her. You'd depend on her, especially in moments like this.

She'd give it to you every morning. She'd never hesitate to obey every command your body gives her.

Then she'd watch you make breakfast with your ears still red from getting taken by her so early in the morning. You'd sit in her lap while you'd eat breakfast. She'd feed you pieces of her bacon, and you'd give her bites from your egg. She'd give small pecks to your soft lips, to kiss away droplets of coffee.

She gets torn out from her daydream though by another text. She looks at it through half lidden eyes.

ringo: we made too many :(

taigen: that's what u get for always going overboard

you: mizu !!!

you: do you want some? i think you'd love pinagong!!!

Mizu smiles to herself as she reads the text. Maybe she isn't fine with how things are right now. Maybe she does need to make a move.

mizu: yeah

mizu: omw.

Maybe...she could stop by the flower shop and get some peonies.

Just maybe.

[timetravellibrarian]

Daughter of the Sea One Piece x reader

Just an extract of my story. The story has about 9 chapters so far. Available on Wattpad if you're interested. Goes by the same name as the heading. Initially it supposed to be a x black reader but anyone can read it since there are no specified feature.

_________________________________________

"Y/-"

'Luffy?'

"Y/n."

'Huh?'

"Y/N!"

The girl's eyes opened at the feel of her captain frantically shaking her. His face seemed like he was slightly panicked.

"What's wrong?"

"You were calling for help in your sleep."

"I was?"

The two stared blankly at each other. Luffy's eyes seemed to be scanning her soul. The girl lay on the couch as he bent down to be at eye level with her. Luffy's braincells worked for a moment. He had never really questioned her past, a feeling having coming over him when his eyes met with her's from the first time. But now he wanted to know what troubled her. Even if it was something small, he wanted to be there for her too. He is her friend afterall.

"Y/n is there som-"

Zoro's voice could be heard outside."Hey, get your butts out here!"

She stood up first and headed to where Zoro was calling them, Luffy following close behind, hand holding onto the fabric of her coat to catch up. Soon Ussop, Sanji, Y/n and Luffy looked up at Zoro.

"I find it hard to get motivated when you're giving the orders," Sanji commented.

"Shut up!" Zoro said to Sanji, irritation clearly showing at the blonde's remark before he focused on the topic at hand. " We need to catch the portside wind."

Sanji turned to Nami, who seemed to be placing her weight on the ship's bannister."Nami what's up? It's a perfect day. The sun is shining, waves are quiet."

"The wind." She let out tiredly.

"The wind?"

"There's a powerful wind coming this direction."

Y/n closed her eyes to feel the wind against her face. 'She's right.'

Luffy placed his hand on Nami's forehead and then retracted it after feeling her temperature and yelling at how high it was before the woman claimed it was her normal temperature.The wind began to pick up and the crew began to follow Zoro's orders.

"THE RUDDER'S NOT WORKING!"

Ussop announced. The sound of thunder with a flash of lightning came into everyone's line of vision. Out there, not even a few kilometres away was a large cyclone and the current was slowly pulling the Going Merry toward it.

"Oh no. It's too late!" Nami yelled in worry,.

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

"How the hell did this even happen?" Y/n asked no one in particular.

"Zoro was in charge of navigating." Nami simply stated.

Y/n abruptly turned to look at Zoro , her eyes looking bewildered at the green-haired swordsman. "WHAT THE HELL, MOSSHEAD?!"

"That's my line."

She turned to Luffy. "What do we do?!"

He scratched his head. A faraway look in his face. "Don't know."

"YOU'RE THE CAPTAIN!"

Y/n paused for a moment.She heard a faint voice coming from somewhere on the ship as it filtered into her mind. "He never really knew much anyway." Her eyes caught sight of a white rock and it was moving on its own? Not now. Now was not the time to question her sanity.

She turned to Nami up ahead. "Nami what do we do?" The navigator was still too busy trying to stay conscious.

"Nami what's- y'know what, I'm taking the lead, you head back inside." (Y/n) ordered. The navigator looked at her, confused by her sudden change in tone but obeying nonetheless.

"Zoro, Sanji!"The both of them turned to her. There was a serious look on her face. Her stance emanating a tad bit of power.

"Hmn?"

"~Yes ,Y/n-swaaan?"

"Furl the sails. Make sure everything is tied up."

"Okay." The two made their way to their assigned stations. She turned to Ussop and Luffy. Ussop was on the floor curled into a ball and Luffy was staring at the cyclone intrigued.

"Ussop! Pull yourself together and man the rudder, pull it the moment you feel the ship moving. Luffy, Help him."

The two looked at her confused. Their eyebrows raised at the order.

" Just do it!"

"Yes ma'am!" Ussop ran to his assigned post, Luffy trailing behind.

Y/n ran to the head of the Merry. The ship was metres away from the large storm and frankly she was as confused as to how she'll save every one.

Zoro and Sanji had furled the sails. Luffy and Ussop were at the rudder and Nami and Vivi were safely inside. It was time for her part.

'Guess I gotta wing it.'

She ran as far as she could away from the ship's railing before stopping to face the direction from where she had ran.

As she was about to sprint back she stopped and took off her boots, coat, scarf, beanie, t-shirt and lastly her warm pants. "I paid money for these I ain't about to lose em."

She took a rope and tied it loosely around her belly. Zoro caught sight of this her actions.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN?"

"Fixing your mistake!"

Zoro turned away from her, an irk mark visible on his forehead. "Y/n's so beautiful when she puts people in their place." Sanji noodle danced a few metres beside him.

"SHUT UP!"

She went back to looking at where she would run and then began to sprint.

Her breath came out with short inhales and long exhales. Skin slowly shimmering in the sunlight that was slightly covered by clouds. She jumped onto the railing before diving and plummeting towards the dark blue waters, a rope following behind.'Please let this work.'

Sanji nearly had a heart attack when he caught sight of her jump.

"Y/N!"

The sound of a splash could barely be heard from their position atop the sails. There was a deafening silence before Sanji tried to get off the sail to go and rescue her from her sudden actions.

The ship came to a sudden halt. The blonde chef losing his balance as he climbed down and ended up landing on his bottom.

"What was that?"

Soon the ship started to move away from the storm's direction. Ussop and Luffy began to turn the rudder that was previously jammed.

"What's going on?"

The sound of a whale call echoed all around them. The ship turning a different direction completely.

Sanji ran towards the head of the Merry only to find the rope that Y/n had tied around herself on a giant Blue whale.

His cigarette slowly dropped from his lips. (The cigarette's a paid actor.)

Zoro could see the creature moving the ship before piecing two and two together. A proud grin became apparent on his face.

Once the ship was far from danger,Luffy ran out to see what was happening outside. Once he stood beside Sanji to see what he was looking at his mouth dropped in awe and his eyes had turned into bright stars.

"Did that whale pull our ship? SOO COOOL!!!"

The large whale let out some water from its blowhole. A smile evident evident from its smiling eyes. Ussop ran out to see what all the commotion was about. He let out a dramatic gasp at the sight of the whale."Where's Y/n she has to see this."

"That is Y/n." Zoro simply stated as he pointed at the whale.

"What?" Luffy looked at the whale in confusion.

"That's rude of you to say Zoro." Ussop shook his head at the statement. His eyes narrowed at the swordsman as if scolding him.

"No, that actually is her."

Looking closely at the whale it looked like any other whale but it's eyes were similar atleast.

"Oh."

Before any of them could anticipate it the whale shrunk back down and all that could be seen was Y/n's head above the water.

"ZORO!"

"YEAH?"

"COULD YOU GET ME A LARGE TOWEL!"

"SURE!"

Once Y/n was dressed, everyone sat around Nami's bed in the women's quarters.

"Why didn't you tell us you could shapeshift?" Ussop asked as he took a sip of his tea.

"I didn't want Luffy to mistake me for food."

Ussop nodded at her reasoning without question."Makes sense."

"I'm not that bad!" Luffy sounded offended, a pout evident as he crossed his arms.

'You are ' Everyone thought at the same time.

[artist-issues]

so here's something I'm curious about: God's Not Dead. The films, not the statement itself.

I first saw the first film when I was younger and I hadn't yet embarked on my journey on examining just what i was taught and what I truly believed, but I remember finding the film a little uncomfortable.

I saw the second film and Ive never watched the third, and I think what I really don't like the first film is how it bashes other people's walks of life (Muslim father, three brands of athiests, and how it continues the myth that Christians in The United States are being Persecuted for their Faith Right Now.

Oh yeah and how the plots are really really dumb too, since the first film centers around a philosophy class with a professor that is skipping a very important part of most College degrees and the second takes place in a Bible Belt State with a high school teacher answering a students question comparing Marting Luther King Jr to Jesus's Sermon on the Mount and being taken to court over it.

I was twelve or so when I saw that movie and I honestly was not convinced by the film That God's Not Dead (in terms of the actual arguments in the class scenes.

The specific Denomination that I grew up with (Adventist) focuses a LOT™ on the end times so I do know about the future persecution thing well but like, I don't think we're there yet.

Anyway if you don't know those movies, feel free to ignore this ask but I'm genuinely curious about your thoughts on them, wether positive or negative or neutral

Hi! I saw the first God’s Not Dead in theaters. Never re-watched it. Did not see the sequels.

The good thing about God’s Not Dead is that people worked hard to make something that might shine a counter-cultural light on the truth that the God of the Bible exists. Stories that try to point to truth are on the right track, baseline.

The bad thing about God’s Not Dead is that it took things that are real, and genuine, and true…and it made them feel fake. By telling the story with strange conclusions and weird-triumph moments.

The thesis of the movie, that God is not dead, is something that only non-Christians would need to be convinced of. But the movie is clearly made for Christians. So. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable.

But you shouldn’t find every experience that the movie tries to portray uncomfortable because they don’t happen. You should find it uncomfortable because they don’t happen in that cheesy, Hallmark-grade way.

When a student stands up to their professor and says, “no, I’m not going to go along with this, and this is super weird that you’re trying to draw this line about the specific Christian God,” guess what? The whole classroom doesn’t usually get up and agree with you. They normally barely react. So even though some professors do put their foot down and try to mock or “kill” God in the classroom, and some students do push back, no. It doesn’t normally happen in that victorious way.

Just like how some young Muslim converts to Christianity genuinely are treated poorly by their families, or their community, not just in America, but absolutely, certainly around the world. Absolutely, certainly. I literally can think of not one, but two examples I’ve recently heard of, directly, from people I know.

Like I said, the events and life-experiences that the first God’s Not Dead movie are based on do technically happen all the time in America, and the West, and the world in general. They just don’t normally come with crowd-agreement, impactful music, wise one-liners, and celebrity appearances. The worst thing that the God’s Not Dead movie does is show you hints of things that are real, and really happen in real life, but cheeseball way it shows you those things, and the caricatures it turns people into, makes the real thing look fake.

As far as “the myth that Christians are Persecuted Right Now in America” goes…you just have to decide what you mean by “persecuted.”

If you mean, are we getting our heads run over by cement mixers, or dragged out of our homes and imprisoned for studying or even owning a Bible, or kidnapped by hired hitmen once our families find out we’re Christians, like they are in Yemen or Africa or basically anywhere outside the West…no. No, we’re not facing persecution like that. We’re not persecuted.

But if you mean, in the context of this conversation, that “atheists and professors and people in the professional sector of our education systems don’t have a weirdly specific bone to pick with Christians,”then you’re wrong. They do. They have. For a long time.

My second semester in college, in my plain old World History class, the Professor legitimately opened his class by explaining to us students that if we wanted, he would allow us to replace our midterm and our final exams with book reports as long as we read two specific books he assigned us. One was a book about how Jesus of Nazareth was not the Messiah and the Bible was false. The other book was a fictional short novel with heavy themes criticizing specifically Christian religion. Those were the two books he picked for his students to skip taking the midterm and the final, if only they would read those two books. And those were the ones he chose.

Not only that, but literally in the first class, I remember being stunned when he flippantly opened his summary of the 18th century by saying, “If anyone ever tells you you should check out the God of the Bible, and follow him, laugh in their face. Don’t do it. He is the kind of God who likes to make His people promises and then strand them in the desert for forty years!” First class. Out the gate. Like it was a joke.

It’s not a joke. Dude just openly mocked two out of the three major world religions that people identify with across the globe. Explain to me how telling someone never to convert to a specific religion and to mock it instead is anything other than “discrimination?”

Can you imagine a Professor getting up in front of a class and saying, “if anyone ever tells you that you should check out Allah ] and follow him, convert to Islam, laugh in their face! And here’s one short novel and one historically inaccurate essay criticizing Allah and making fun of Islam; if you’ll read these, tell you what, I’ll let you skip the two most stressful exams of the semester!”

No, of course you can’t imagine that. A Professor who did that about any other religion, creed, or god would be fired or taken to court or penalized or dragged on social media, at least. But the only student in the whole room who batted an eye when he said that about the Christian God was me. The only one who said anything was me. And it wasn’t a big stand up, dramatic declaration. Momentous music didn’t play in the background. My friends and classmates didn’t’] gasp or support me or stand up and agree with me.

It was just me raising my hand and saying in a shaky voice with a red face, after the sixth time he’d randomly deviated from talking about the Roman plumbing system to describe how the Apostle Paul and the other Apostles supposedly disagreed about who Jesus was (big lie, not true at all, but often used to “discredit” the Bible) to say, “sir, that’s not true. It doesn’t make sense. There’s a verse in the Bible where the Apostle Peter literally tells the church that the Apostle Paul’s words are directly from God.” And then he was like, “okay, I’m going to move on.”

I mean I just felt kind of stupid because the whole class was confused about the interaction; nobody was treating it like it was as important as me or the professor was, so it felt awkward to “make a stand.” But rest assured, all over the freakin’ country, people are excited to use up way too much of their brain power and emotional energy mocking, disparaging, and trying to discredit the God of the Bible and Christianity. They don’t believe in Him, but they’re so he’ll-bent on making sure nobody else does either?? Like, I don’t believe in Big Foot, but I’m not walking around trying to barter my students into reading anti-Big Foot books by giving them a pass on their midterms. But that’s how lots and lots of “athiests” treat the specific Christian God.

That’s not new. It’s not dramatic. It’s not persecution. It’s alllll part of the same old song and dance.

But it is real. The worst thing about God’s Not Dead is it made it feel fake and caricature, when it happens all the time and matters 🤷‍♀️ Anyway. Hope that answered your question.

[fallinginvictus]

do you have any wips at all for the time loop au? 🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday Andrew & Aaron Time Loop AU

I haven't had time to write lately so I only have a tiny little bit of the first part of chapter 3 and I'm not actually sure that's how it's going to stay when I actually post the whole chapter but I'll post anyways.

part one

part two

tw: character death, suicide, mention of drug abuse, Tilda, suicidal thoughts

“You're a parasite,” his mother had told him once when he was five, her head resting on the couch, her black eyes staring at the ceiling, her clouded mind lost in the high. “You suck everything out of me and then still expect me to give you more of my love.”

Aaron stood there for a second, his puffy little hands holding tightly onto the drawing he had been trying to show her, the mother he had drawn staring lovingly at him, the mother in real life taking a puff of her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the ceiling, never looking at her son.

“I just wanted to give you the gift that I made you,” he tried to defend himself with a pout on his lips, hoping his mother would want to look at it, look at him. Hoping she would smile and thank him for his thoughtfulness, for his kindness. Hoping she would acknowledge his existence.

“I just wanted,” his mother repeated mockingly, grey smoke slithering out of her lips. “That's all you do, Aaron. You want and you want and you want and you never once think about how much you take from people. As long as you get what you want you are willing to suck me dry.”

“I-I wasn't asking to take anything,” he said softly, tears pooling in his eyes. “I just wanted to give you a gift to make you happy.”

At those words his mother's gaze finally turned towards Aaron, her black eyes looking straight through him.

“To make me happy?” she scoffed before extending her long, pale fingers towards him. “Show me then.”

Aaron hesitated for a second, his hold on his precious drawing getting tighter, the paper wrinkling in his hands.

“Come on now,” his mother tilted her head, a grin painted on her thin lips, her coral-red lipstick a little smudged. “You wanted to show me my gift, so show me my gift.”

Aaron stepped forward, a spark of hope lighting inside of his chest, the drumming of his own heart echoing in his ears, a little smile forming on his lips as he carefully handed the drawing to his mum. He had worked on it for hours that morning while she was busy getting high, he had picked his best colours and tried his hardest to stay inside the lines. It was a drawing of his mum and Aaron holding hands, big and happy smiles drawn on their faces, colourful butterflies were dancing all around them and a big yellow sun was shining on the top-right corner of the page.

“This is me and you,” he said as he shily pointed towards the two stick figures on the paper and then he placed a kiss on her cheek, his soft lips meeting the hardness of her cheekbone, his warm hands gently holding onto her cold shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“You made this just for me,” she said, arching a perfectly trimmed brow.

“For my mummy,” he nodded while smiling at her. “A gift to make you happy.”

“Oh, to make me happy you say?” she chuckled. Her tone made Aaron take two steps back and he stumbled a little when his naked feet got tangled in the black carpet. His mother's eyes were cold, the black of her pupils drowning the light brown of her eyes, none of the softness that he sometimes saw in them was visible.

“Yes I-”

“So you didn't give it to me so that I could thank you and tell you how good you are?”

Aaron didn't reply. He hadn't made her the drawing to get compliments but a part of him had still hoped for them, had hoped to hear nice words and receive warm smiles. Had hoped for warmth and love, for attention.

“See Aaron?” she said, her eyes burning holes into his skin. “You pretend to be such a lovely boy who only wants to please others but you can't fool me, I'm your mother. I know you like nobody else does. I put up with it because I love you, but no one else other than me will ever be able to put up with your selfish behaviour, with your endless needs, with your wanting and taking. I can see right through you.”

☆☆

As he lays on his unmade bed, the darkness of his room engulfing his body and his mind, Aaron finally feels light and free, the weight of the sky no longer resting on his shoulders, the cloud of darkness that had for so long engulfed his lungs finally dissipating.

He stays there for a while, staring at the darkness, searching for a crack in his heart, an ounce of doubt in his blood, regret in his mind. He searches thoroughly and critically, every thought gets analysed and pulled apart, every emotion gets dissected and categorised, and only when he's sure that nothing at all has been overlooked he finally gets out of bed, ready to face the final day of his life.

He takes longer than usual in the shower, letting the hot streams of water untangle his muscles, warm his bones. He uses all of his shampoo and conditioner, until there is not one drop left inside the bottles. He lets the water wash over him until it starts to turn cold, until there is no hot water left at all. When he finally steps out of the shower, condensation has filled the air and all of the glass surfaces and mirrors are fogged over. Aaron prefers it that way, he doesn't want to look at his face, doesn't want the reminder of what he's leaving behind. Of who he's leaving behind.

When he looks at his phone it's thirty-two minutes past seven in the morning and Aaron's heart stops beating for a few seconds: Andrew had called him five times.

A few seconds later it rings again, the phone vibrating in his hand as the ringtone fills the air, covering the sound of his now racing heart.

“What? Is something wrong?” Aaron asks as soon as he picks up the phone, worry crawling under his skin and spreading throughout his body, rooting him to the ground. Andrew would never call him of his own free will, he would never contact him unless something had gone terribly wrong.

“Are you still clean?” is what Andrew says from the other side of the line, his voice sounding strange, strained.

“What?” Aaron's blood turns into ice, freezing his veins. His thoughts drift towards the hospital's supply room, towards what he knows will take place that afternoon. For a second, for a naive and stupid second, Aaron feels touched and warmth tries to melt his frozen veins: maybe Andrew still cares for him, he thinks, maybe he still wants for Aaron to be safe.

“Just answer. Are you still clean?”

“Yes, I am. Almost 10 years.”

“Do you feel like using again?” The question feels like a trick, a trap.

“No,” he says and smiles a little: he doesn't feel like using again but it doesn't mean he won't.

“Good. Don't,” Andrew says before hanging up the phone.

Once Andrew's voice is gone and only silence can be heard in his empty house, Aaron feels hollow again. He wants to call his brother back, to hear him talk about his day, his week, his life; he wants to tell him about his annoying neighbour and his stupid little dog that barks all day and night and won't let Aaron rest; he wants to go to a café and eat three different types of cakes and discuss with him which one is better; he wants Andrew to trust him and confide in him; he wants to confess his pain and tell Andrew that there is a tiredness in him that won't ever leave him, that drags him down. He wants Andrew to burst through his door and save him. He wants and wants and wants and he hates his mother for being right: he's a parasite that will never be satisfied. Aaron won't suck Andrew and Nicky dry like he did with his mother.

☆☆

When he was thirteen, Aaron discovered that he had a brother, a twin, and something that he thought had long been lost sparked in chest again after years of laying dormant between his ribs: hope.

The whole night he paced around his bedroom, up and down and down and up, his whole body buzzing with that long forgotten feeling, thoughts getting tangled in his brain as he tried to organise them, to make sense of them.

He had a twin brother.

He stood in front of the broken and dirty floor-length mirror at the side of his room and stared at himself for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes: in front of him stood his reflection, dark circles under his eyes, hollowed-out cheeks and sharp cheekbones, rosey lips and messy blond hair. Soon enough there wouldn't just be a mindless reflection standing in front of him, but a real-life human with feelings and thoughts, a brother that looked just like him, a twin that had once been part of him, with whom he had shared the first nine months of his life.

He walked towards his desk and ripped a page from his chemistry notebook. He stared at it for a while, thinking about what he should write. He knew he was an unlovable child, he knew his personality was unlikeable and his mere presence exhausting; he wasn't friendly and he wasn't funny, he was neither sweet nor cute and he had never once been good at making friends, but he was desperate, the need to make a good first impression was burnings in his veins.

He picked up a black-ink pen. He had stolen it from one of his classmates, it was new and expensive, the gel ink rich and deep.

Five different times he began to write his letter and five different times he ripped out the page, his hands shaking, his breaths getting erratic. Aaron had never been a writer, had never liked reading, had never cared about literature, often falling asleep during Mr. Jackson lessons and now he could do nothing but curse at himself for such oversight: he didn't want his brother to think of him as an illiterate idiot who couldn't string two sentences together.

Aaron had never felt more dumb than he did on that Thursday evening as he tried his best to present himself as someone that Andrew could love, someone that was worthy of love.

☆☆

“You look happy today Doctor Minyard,” is the first thing he hears when he walks in front of the nurses station. “Did something good happen?”

Aaron smiles at Nurse Mary, “Just a good day,” he shrugs. Maybe it is a lie or maybe it isn't, Aaron isn't sure anymore.

The day passes slowly and then all at once, a strange feeling buzzing under his skin, electricity licking up his veins. He wonders if it's anticipation or dread, joy or sadness. He wonders if maybe it's a mixture of every emotion that he has ever felt throughout his life. It had been so long since he had felt so much and so strongly; it had been so long since he had felt something other than emptiness and loneliness for a prolonged period of time. He can't decide whether he enjoys the feeling or if he despises it.

He feels guilty as he walks towards the supply room: all around him are those afflicted by unimaginable sicknesses and pains and every day and every night they fight as hard they can to keep their lives: they hold on tightly onto a thin rope that is on the brink of snapping, their knuckles white, their hands bloody, their muscles aching from the strain. And here Aaron is, forfeiting his life as if it means nothing.

The keypad beeps four times, short and loud, and then a third time as the door opens. Aaron takes a deep breath as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, the dim light inside the small room casting shadows on his face, the stale air making him feel as if he's going to suffocate at any moment. There's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and a slight shake overtakes his hands as he tightly grips the glass vial. He stops for a second as the syringe sinks into the grey rubber stopper, his laboured breaths the only sound inside the quiet room.

There is a second after Aaron sinks the syringe in his body where flashes of Nicky's warm smile and Andrew's concerned face dance behind his eyelids, a moment where he could change his mind, put the syringe away and walk out of that room alive. But the faces disappear as quickly as they had appeared, smothered by the knowledge that he would only suck them dry, that his wants and needs would only ever hurt them. No matter how hard he tries to keep his wants sealed inside of his chest, beneath his ribs, Aaron knows that they would always find a way to escape. He's a parasite, his existence would only ever bring pain to those around him.

He pushes the morphine in his veins.

That morning he had told Andrew that he didn't feel like using again and while it had been true it hadn't been the full truth. Aaron had long since learnt that a drug addict could never stop being a drug addict. He could get clean and he could stay clean, but the addiction would never fully leave him, a part of him would always crave the drugs, the high, like a broken bone that had never healed quite right and would ache when it rained and when it snowed.

When the morphine finally makes its home in his veins, Aaron welcomes her like an old friend. He lets himself feel the euphoria as it rushes through his body and down his veins, as it reaches his every cell. His body goes limp and he slumps against the wall, the syringe slipping from his fingers. Aaron had forgotten what happiness felt like but as he lays on the snow-white hospital tiles, he thinks he has finally found it again. Maybe drugs, he ponders, had been his only real friends.

His brain goes numb after a while, a dense fog making its way inside of his mind, clouding his thoughts, blurring his vision. His body feels heavy and he lets it fall to the ground, the sound of his head forcefully hitting the ground echoing inside of the silent room. Aaron doesn't even notice. Nothing hurts anymore, the constant and unbearable ache that is his loneliness now hidden inside of the dense fog that is clouding his brain.

Why couldn't you make me just a little lovable, Aaron asks God as he falls into darkness. Why do I always have to be alone?

[blueesnow]

(6/6) Otori Eiji's Private Story [Utapri Live Emotion]

Ch 1: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 6 with Eiji)

-Park- Haruka: (That's strange… I'm sure I heard that the location where they were shooting a movie today was supposed to be around here…) Eiji: Eh, are you possibly…Nanami-san? Oh, it's indeed you. Haruka: Eiji-kun…! I'm so glad that I meet with one of the cast members. You see… I'm actually lost right now. Eiji: I see. Then again today's location is a bit secluded so I don't blame you. Eiji: I'm just on my way to go back after having a quick break. If you don't mind shall we go together? Haruka: Really? Thank you so much, you really help me out. Eiji: You're welcome. By the way I've heard the news. You're the one who will be in charge for the soundtracks of this movie right, Nanami-san? Haruka: Ah, yes. As an assistant of my senior composer*, I was given an opportunity to work on this movie. Haruka: It's also the work from this recently popular director too. To be honest I'm feeling so much pressure just working on it… Eiji: It was the same for me too. Although I was happy when I heard the news, sometimes I can't help but wonder if I'm really the right person for the role. Eiji: The original work for this movie was known as a best-selling novel, its story was refreshing, and the role that I'm playing is the love rival which is quite an important role. Eiji: Ever since the filming began, I've been feeling nervous while making sure that I'm not making trouble for everyone. Eiji: But…since I've already accepted the job, I have no choice but to do my best. I must fulfill the expectations of the director who picked me after all. Haruka: Eiji-kun…that was such a wonderful way of thinking. I'll make sure to support you! Eiji: Thank you. It's very reassuring to know that there's people watching over you. Let's work hard together shall we.

*: I'm not sure how to translate the 作曲家先生 to be honest. I remember he did appear from the ori game, where Haruchan finally got accepted into Shining Agency, but as she was a newbie she was appointed to be working under this 作曲家先生 first before she accept any real job offers from other clients, you could say that she's interning(?) under his care while learning how to work around the field. Anyway he's not exactly a teacher as he's one of the composer in Shining Agency but you could say that he's Haruchan's... senpai in a way(?)

Ch 2: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 11 with Eiji)

-Park- Haruka: (Looks like Eiji-kun's scene will come out soon. He keeps having quite a lively discussion with the director.) Eiji: About this line… I understand, I'll try to be aware for the timing. I'm looking forward to be working with you. Eiji: "…I love you. So much that I can't help it." Eiji: "This feeling of mine won't lose to anyone. I'd promise that I will treasure you. That's why…rather than him, I want you to choose me instead." Haruka: ( …Wow. His expression and his voice…all of them perfectly capture all of his feelings. Even though I know it's all just acting it still made my heart beats…) Eiji: "Ah… did your mind slightly waver just now? Of course I noticed, I mean I've been watching you all this time." Eiji: "As long as there is a possibilty no matter how little they are, I won't give up. I'll definitely make you fall in love with me so…be prepared." - Eiji: …Phew. Thank you very much. Haruka: …Eiji-kun, good job! My eyes can't take their eyes off of you. (choices) <I was moved with the gap of your acting!> Haruka: Your face at that time looks so much more different than the usual Eiji-kun. Anyway I was moved with the gap of your acting! Eiji: Oh no, you're exaggerating. But…it was something I tried to do consciously, so I'm glad you noticed that. Eiji: Being able to become someone else is one of the charms of acting itself. <You're shining brightly> Haruka: Just watching you make my heart beats… Eiji-kun, you're shining so brightly. Eiji: T-That much!? Compared to all of my co-stars, I still have a long way to go. I'm always overwhelmed by their actings during our shooting. Eiji: But knowing you complimented me just now must means that I'm a little bit closer than before. Thank you. (back to story) Eiji: Wait, Nanami-san, what's wrong with your finger? Don't tell me you're hurt…? Haruka: Oh, you're right. I probably accidentally cut myself when I was trying to take a note. Eiji: Although it's just a small wound, it might turn worse if you didn't properly treat it. Please wait here for a moment, I'll be back soon.

Ch 3: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 21 with Eiji)

-Park- Eiji: Sorry for making you wait so long. Here's a band-aid. I think it'd be much better if you put one just in case. Haruka: Thank you so much. I'm sorry for the trouble. Eiji: Don't worry about it. Maybe I'm worrying too much, but it'll be too late if anything happens to you. Haruka: I'll be more careful from now on… But still, it's amazing that you can quickly find a band-aid this fast. Eiji: I-Is that so? I usually carry a first aid kit with me. Though people do sometimes say that I'm quite a worrier. Eiji: But, there are lot of times when I'm glad that I have it with me. Since I also tends to get hurt too sometimes. Eiji: Just like for today, I might be of help to someone else too. This kind of thing really made me happy. Eiji: Especially to everyone in HE★VENS, I want them to always stay healthy and be in their best possible condition. At the very least, this is the only thing that I can do. Haruka: That's not true…! I don't think Eiji-kun's attentiveness is something that everyone else can do. Haruka: And you're also very good at acting too. Seeing you in action really cheered me up and it made me want to try even more harder with my work. Eiji: Really? …Although I'm a bit embarrassed, I'm glad that I might be of help to you even if it's just a little bit. Haruka: (Eiji-kun is really such a kind person. To think that he'd be so considerate and caring to me.) Eiji: Oh…it looks like it's almost time for the next shoot. Actually, after this I have a special appearance later with a big-name actor. Eiji: I've been nervous since this morning, but hearing your encouragements made me feel like I can really do my best now. Eiji: No, I need to be more greedy and make sure it'll turn out to be a great scene. Well then, I'll be going now.

Ch 4: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 31 with Eiji)

-Shopping Mall- Haruka: (As I thought, there aren't that many people on weekdays. The ticket booth is… Eh? The one standing over there…) Haruka: Eiji-kun…is that you? Eiji: …Nanami-san! You surprised me. Talk about a coincidence. Did you come here to watch this movie too? Haruka: Yes. I was hoping that it might help me as a reference for my songwriting… Oh, it's for the soundtrack of the movie when I came to watch you on set the other day! Eiji: So that's why! …If you don't mind, can we go and watch this movie together? Eiji: I just happened to be thinking of watching this same movie too. But of course you don't have to force yourself, feel free to say no if I'm bothering you. Haruka: Oh no, I'm actually happy for the invitation. It'd be my pleasure to join you! Eiji: I'm glad to hear that. Now then, I'm going to go to the ticket booth to buy two tickets, okay. Haruka: Oh… I'm sorry, thank you for your generosity. Eiji: It's okay, you can just wait for me here for a bit. I'm looking forward to watch the movie. - Haruka: …*sigh* That was an amazing movie, isn't it? I had no idea such a wonderful piece of work exist. Eiji: You're right. I was also especially moved by the acting of the main character's actor. Even though he acts calm and cool, somehow I can feel quite a mysterious passion hidden inside him. Eiji: The fact that he can express his emotion just by his eyes only is amazing. Eiji: You can also felt the presence from the supporting characters too… Oh no, sorry! I ended up talking by myself. Eiji: Um… I'll walk you home later, so could you give me a little bit more of your time? I'd love to hear your thoughts of the movie.

Ch 5: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 41 with Eiji)

-Cafe- Eiji: Um…Nanami-san. You can take a seat in the back first. Haruka: Well then…excuse me. …Oh, this is the food menu, shall we take a look at it together? Eiji: It's okay, there's also one over here… Oh no, this one only have drinks selection. Eiji: I'm sorry, but could you actually share the menu with me? …Hmm, there's so many options here. What do you want to eat? (choices) <I'll be ordering sandwich!> Haruka: I'll be ordering sandwich! You could say that I'm a little bit hungry after watching the movie. Eiji: Really? In fact, I was kind of starving too. Maybe the smell of the popcorn was luring me in. Eiji: Whenever I smell it, I was once reminded that I'm really in a movie theater, and sometimes it makes me want to buy it. <I want to eat pudding> Haruka: I think…I want to eat the pudding. It came out at the movie we saw earlier. Eiji: Heroine's favorite food, right. The scene where the main character bought it for her without even knowing it's her favorite, and it deepens the bond between them. Eiji: And from that point on, the relationship between the two of them begins to change little by little. Although the way it presented was quite comical, it's also quite important and was very memorable to me. Haruka: Fufu, I totally get what you mean. How about you Eiji-kun? What do you want to eat? (back to story) Eiji: You know what…since we're here now, I think I'll be ordering the same as yours. You don't mind, do you? Haruka: Of course not! Eiji: Thanks. …Excuse me, I'd like to order please. Eiji: Um, can we get both of this, please… Eh? This one only have one left? Then, can I please change one of them to this one? Yes, thank you. Haruka: O-Oh no, I'm sorry. Are you okay with it…? Eiji: It's okay. To be honest, I actually couldn't decide to choose between two of them at first, so talk about perfect timing. Eiji: Oh…that's right. Talking about the movie we saw earlier, there's actually one scene that caught my attention. The one where the main character…

Ch 6: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 51 with Eiji)

-Cafe- Eiji: …So you thought that those words were foreshadowing as well. I thought I could be wrong for misinterpreting it, it's a relief to know that I'm not the only one. Haruka: Even their casual conversation added depth to the story, right. Oh, and the BGM there was also very good! Eiji: You're right. I can even still hear them now in my ears. Especially during the scene where the main character was staring at the riverー Haruka: That piano solo, right! While it has a gentle and soft melody, yet somehow it felt a little bit melancholic too. Eiji: It was perfect for the scenery as the sun gradually went down. I feel that the music adds color to the world of the movie. Eiji: I'm looking forward to the song that you'll create too. I wonder what kind of color you will add to in the movie that we're working on. Haruka: I'll try to do my best so that my music won't lose to the visual of the movie as well. I mean, Eiji-kun's acting is so good after all. Eiji: That's not true. And besides, I'm the one who always feel like I have to properly prove myself that I'm worthy to sing your brilliant songs. Eiji: The songs that you wrote for HE★VENS are like my treasure. I really love your music. And I'm sure that everyone also feel the same way. Eiji: So I hope that you can be more confident in yourself. Remember that you're an amazing composer. Haruka: T-To think I'm hearing so many compliments from you… Thank you so much… Eiji: …Eh? Your face looks a little bit red. Are you feeling sick? Everything's okay? Haruka: I…It's nothing! Don't worry. Eiji: If you say so… I guess now it's time for us to go home. Sorry for dragging you along with me for so long. Eiji: But I actually had a lot of fun today. I'd be happy if we could talk again just like this. Either if it's about movie or music.

[qiutls]

TNGDH 008

I climbed on Sen's palm and looked around.

Since Kyle is busy searching with his eyes wide open, this girl should head straight over to his study. Earlier, I couldn't take a good look on the way here because I was in a hurry to run away, so I should take this chance to learn.

That way tomorrow, I can use "Summon" at the storage room and wear Kyle's clothes that I hid, then I can go to the opposite room from the study.

The point is that I can only specify the location for "Summon" to be within 10m radius. Of course, I have to get more clothes. It's so damn cold, it isn't called the North for a reason.

"Sen, where are you going?"

A maid who was moving a laundry basket called Sen. The place I was hiding in, seemed to be where the servants do the laundry.

"I found it!"

Sen lifted me up proudly, and I carefully held onto her palm with my body in case I slip. Hey, don't raise me up so high, I can't see anything.

"I guess it wasn't that shy. It even seemed nice. It's so cute looking around trying to find the way back."

After hearing that, the maids gathered around her and said, 'I envy you,' 'It must be cute,' 'I want to raise one too,' and etcetera. If you wrote their words and arranged them in one line, it seemed like it would even reach Busan.

I burrowed my face in Sen's palm feeling ashamed.

'... Was I too obvious while looking around?'

I'll get weary if I'm too self-conscious.

"Can you take me with you?"

A maid who seemed to be close with Sen approached me with her eyes shining. How dare you put your spoon into someone else's bowl. No, hmph. Is this decision up to Serena?

― Squeak [ Get lost! ]

She was visibly embarrassed when I started squeaking and stretching out of Sen's palm.

"Ack! What's wrong with it? Wasn't it very quiet just a while ago..."

― Squeak! Squeak! [ You foolish human! You want to share the merit, how greedy! ]

Were you fated to be Serena, the best woman in the empire? Of course, I must've messed up that fate but anyways... Why do you need Kyle's favorable impression!

Right then, a low voice rang behind us.

"Cashew Nut."

"G-grand Duke!"

This ghostlike bastard. He found me so easily.

Kyle's eyes which were tinted with red turned to look at me, then he frowned slightly... That action made everyone feel more intimidated. Seriously, his looks are enough to win a battle.

Hey! Why won't you smile. Didn't you find me already. I don't even have a single scratch on my body. Don't make the atmosphere too heavy, don't you feel sorry for these maids.

Speaking of them, among all the maids, only Sen wasn't shaking with fear, and even turned towards Kyle.

"Your Highness, I've found the beast as you've commanded."

Kyle tried to reach out to me but stopped when he saw me sitting comfortably on Sen's hand.

"... I guess it's comfortable staying with you."

"That, Your Highness..."

"Will you come to my study with me?"

Sen looked down at me for a moment, stroked my back with her thumb and nodded. The other maids have went back to their original positions and could only glance.

After arriving at the study, Kyle tried to put me inside the hamster house.

Of course, I tried my best to resist. You said we would sleep together today! How can you give me freedom then take it away like this, you cheating bastard!

Sadly, Kyle seemed to have misunderstood my actions.

"It seems like it really likes you."

"I guess it does, Your Highness."

Sen smiled slightly, with a hint of embarrassment and happiness. However, she still put me firmly inside the hamster house.

"You have to go in. It's bad to leave the house so recklessly. You made His Highness worried."

But, I'll be back after 30 minutes anyways. I was just taking a quick walk.

"I'll make it up to you."

Kyle said after closing the ceiling of the hamster house. Sen only stared at him, so he added.

"I thought it would be hard to find. I had that hunch after the magicians said they couldn't track its mana. But thanks to you, I was able to easily find Cashew Nut..."

"....."

"Tell me what you want. I swear on the name the Grand Duke of Blake, I will grant you anything you wish."

Sen's eyes turned to me, who was leaning on the wheel. She seemed to be troubled.

Her eyes were filled with both longing and resignation then it turned to melancholy for a moment, but it quickly snapped back to her usual look.

"It's alright, Your Highness, there's no need."

Sen replied in a firm voice.

"What I wish for is something Your Highness cannot grant, so I'll handle it myself. Please just know that I have done my best, and if there comes to be a day in this castle where I face injustice, I just hope that Your Highness is willing to lend a hand."

"Interesting."

Kyle leaned back onto the sofa and spoke slowly.

"Is there a wish that cannot be granted within this territory of mine?"

Hey, don't fight with a maid and her wish. I mumbled while washing my dirty paws in the water bowl.

'... By the way, what could Sen's wish be?'

To marry Belial? Anyway, I don't remember what the ending of the story was but I remember these two were in love with each other. And isn't it a common ending for novels for the leads to live happily ever after. This ending is basically a national rule.

But... It's impossible to fall in love with Belial here in the north, which is a long way from the Imperial City, maybe her wish is to raise her status?

Then a system window popped up.

[ Revenge. ]

'Revenge?'

Sen's wish is revenge?

[ Serena's only wish is revenge. ]

Not Sen, but Serena's.

The system was still calling her Serena and not Sen.

Does that mean, she's still fated to be Serena.

Even if the fate of transmigration was changed, the part of her becoming empress seems to not have changed. This made me feel strange. I blinked and looked up at Sen.

'What the hell happened to you.'

It felt really strange to think that the novel I read is someone's vivid life and not just a few lines typed on paper.

"By the way."

Kyle called Sen's attention quietly and she looked back at him calmly, not afraid of his aura a single bit. Seems like her liver is big.

*Koreans equate the liver to what English equates the heart to bigger heart / liver = more courageous*

"Your face looks familiar."

Sen flinched and her shoulders stiffened, her strong appearance seemed to crumble right there and then. Her green eyes which had been calm all this time shook and her lower lip turned pale for a moment.

But she quickly recovered, she turned her head towards me and closed her eyes tightly. The moment she opened them, she smiled and it looked so natural, making me think twice whether the expression I saw earlier was a moment of illusion.

"I'm not even a maid that's in charge of Your Highness, how could I look familiar?"

"But... It seems like we have met before?"

​Your Highness, the Grand Duke, that's such an old-fashioned comment.

Sen replied with a meaningful smile.

"I am one of your subjects. Besides, I'm a maid working in this castle, so it's natural that my face is familiar."

"Yes, I suppose so."

Kyle seemed to move on without much thought on the problem.

Come to think of it, Kyle was quite obsessed with Serena in the original version of the novel. But what was the reason? There must have been a good reason to be obsessed with someone who you could not even see in your territory...

It was not easy to remember all the content of the novel because there was so much happening, it's a good thing that the system helps most of the time.

"What's your name?"

"Sen, Your Highness."

"Alright, Sen."

Kyle thought of something then looked at me.

No, don't look so friendly, maintain your dignity as a solemn and grand person. Don't suddenly open the door and lift me up and shower me with kisses.

"I'll cut back on your work a little, so can you come and check on Cashew Nut from time to time?"

Sen was undeniably shocked at the unexpected request.

"Cashew Nut, this magical beast?"

*might use demonic & magical interchangeably since sometimes the characters mention the word in obvious demeaning tone and sometimes it's neutral like this one.*

"Yeah it seems to like being around you. Originally, I was the only one it met here at the study all day, and it must have felt lonely because I was away preparing for the festival. I think it might have run away in frustration..."

Well, that's not such a bad decision. I'll take it.

The first part of the original revolved around Serena, Belial and Kyle. Right now, since Belial is at the Imperial City, it can't be helped that I can only increase the miracle value by changing Kyle & Serena's fates.

Unfortunately, I have to spend most of the day as a hamster so it's better if they are the ones to approach me.

Sen turned towards where I was again, and I slowly approached the wall that was near her and put my hands up against it. I didn't forget to wink either. I used up all my sincerity for this fanservice.

"... I'll do it!"

Sen called out as if she was possessed.

"I-I mean, I've never taken care of a mouse, no a h-hamster, but I've raised a dog before... I'll study hard to learn how to take care of it! I-"

"It's not just a hamster, it's a magical beast."

Just like this, Sen became my second guardian.

Both of you please get along well. Don't be too obsessed, okay? Don't fight each other for my affection alright?

After Sen left the study, Kyle looked at me in the hamster house for a long time. He looks like he was dying to take me out, but wouldn't dare to do so hastily.

'Were you that shocked to lose me once.'

But I couldn't help it either. If you came back to a strange man on the bed naked, and the hamster was gone, the situation would be a lot worse.

Then a rumor will spread that Your Highness, who is not married, has a taste for men. Of course, I couldn't let that happen.

In any case, it's a difficult situation, I also would not take out a hamster outside of the cage if there's a single chance it might run away again.

Should I pretend to be depressed for a while. No, this isn't my fault, it's all because of this "Summon" skill. Why didn't you explain the details of the skill to me first!

[ (อิ_อี;;;) ]

'Anyways... Tomorrow, it should be fine right?'

The clothes were hidden well, so I'll use "Summon" in that location and take a look at the situation in the castle. It's time for the festival anways so it wouldn't look weird to see a stranger walking around.

'Before that... I'll have to get some pants and shoes.'

If I keep walking barefoot all this time in this freezing weather, all my toes will fall off.

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[risingsuntarot]

1--2

3

What are you currently not seeing ?

My lord I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long I kinda jus felt so unmotivated and kinda went hermit mode for quite a while so I apologize for my absence!! Anyways I wanted to make a come back with a reading regarding being trapped, blinded or stuck on something that is unfortunately, hindering your process ;+(

Also * will indicate a reversal from here on out also only three piles because I wanted to get this out ASAP !!

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Pile 1

---Cards pulled---

5 of Coins/4 of Wands*/The magician

3 of coins*/The Moon

---Clarification---

9 of coins/9 of Swords/The hierophant

Ace of wands/3 of wands

There is most likely a financial or material issue happening, I heard "just enough to get by"

It looks like you lack in what you currently need as well? But despite this you are content or try to come off that way

Maybe you just moved into your own apartment recently? Or now have to pay rent or something along those lines

A new responsibility within your family/home life too

There's a lack of confidence here especially within self and home life

Something or someone in your home isn't making you feel quite safe? Or you get nightmares about them (if this is the case please seek help!!) that might be a very specific message BUT Could also be ready as you may be dealing with flashbacks at this time due to financial or material loss !! Maybe you grew up in poverty or an unstable home? Or your parents/caregivers weren't able to provide necessities?

It looks like with the magician and the hierophant there is a gift on the horizon or a very promising belief or like system? Maybe a change in routine or spending habits and thinking will help tremendously

I see that on your end for some your guides are frustrated with your lack of effort and motivation to make your thousands of ideas a reality

They absolutely love your creativity tho don't get me wrong

Maybe you have a hard time focusing right now and have many great ideas to put into place but lack motivation or resources as well so this leads to lack of movement or commitment

Sadness, restless emotions and late sleepless nights are prominent here, someone may deal with insomnia here but y'all sleep schedule is wack (same tho)

Feeling blocked and frustrated >:+(

---ORACLE/ADVICE---

Summer - "Bask in Joy and Light"

"Rise up, open your wings and shine. Bring your projects and plans into into the light, into manifestation" as soon as I opened the guidebook lil

DEADASS do that's just that, start off easy with a lobes hobby, draw something new or listen to a new genre, learn that new music sheet that has been challenging you or even get into a new type of skill to re motivate you !!

This also indicates summer may be your time of change!! New opportunities, new memories maybe even knew people

I feel like this is the perfect time to go outside, bask in sunlight and enjoy a nearby park or go on a nature hike, try meeting new people at libraries, bars or events even book clubs?

I'm getting a message to connect more with water so swimming or maybe even kayaking?

The big message here is try something n e w but I'm also being told to "loosen up" I'm tensing up a lot with this reading

Bumble bees maybe significant to someone :+) or honeycombs cereal? Lmao honey and bee related things here

---Channeled Songs---

Ego brain - SOAD

"You see my pain is real

Watch my world dissolve

And pretend that none of us see the fall

As I turned to sand

You took me by the hand

And declared, that love prevails over all"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Pile 2

---Cards pulled---

Temperance/9 of Wands/Ace of cups*

Knight of Coins/6 of Wands

---Clarification---

5 of Coins/The Lovers*/8 of Coins

The Moon/Queen of Wands

Okay so there's a sense for reluctance from this pile tbh like to fully acknowledge the truth

I keep wanting to say what happened so you may be being asked this question a lot

For one there is guilt over either healing and moving on or from not healing and moving on from a difficult situation but for most it's a romantic connection

I feel like voices were silenced, and you were constantly fighting for you right to be heard, seen or acknowledged fairly

It was a toxic dynamic that you still look back on to this day but almost feel indifferent but it seems it's just suppressed emotions and memories that you have yet to actually acknowledge

You seem to be a BIT too logical with what happened, like everything was supposed to be this way even this you didn't at all anticipate it if that makes sense

Like you knew what it was exactly, no bs and people tried convincing you otherwise

It looks like someone may come to you to talk about what happened although you may be reluctant to actually open up and speak on your side or even acknowledge that it hurts

It's like you go on about your day with a heavy rain cloud over your head and this person can see :+(

it maybe a friend to help you through this for some possibly offering you a type of hype sesh or even help you glow up a bit even if it's confidence lol

---ORACLE/ADVICE---

Wolf- "Take care of your needs"

I feel like you definitely need rest here, this card says "Do everything you need to do to be at your best, Then move beyond your fears and limitations"

it feels like a state of I can FINALLY get some rest from running and running and running

You've been in survival mode for so long or you just genuinely feel exhausted from the expectations around you or the trauma in your past

Know that's it's okay to just chill out and it's okay to be on your own for a while it's all part of the process, in fact I believe your guides are asking you to spend time with yourself more

Self care and YouTube days are recommend :+))

---Channeled Songs---

Around the fur - Deftones

"Please don't fuck around and die like this

'Cause I love her"

Brand new numb - Motionless in white

"All of my flaws, I wear 'em with honor

A purple heartbreak for all we've suffered"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Pile 3

---Cards pulled---

The Hierophant*/King of cups/4 of Swords

Wheel of fortune/5 of wands*

---Clarification---

Ace of Swords*/5 of Swords/Queen of Coins

The Hermit*/Queen of Cups

This may be a more masculine in terms of energy for this pile but I'll still read the same

So it seems there was a hypocrisy or an act that went against your morals and you were quick to act and deliver your opinion... "sharply"

You stood your ground and what you believed in in your heart despite the haters lol, and despite the arguments or how many people you had to leave behind something about conflict here

Although the way you did this was quite nonchalantly and someone was not a fan I'm picking up on black hair and green for the description for some reason

This person tends to be the center of attention? Or is very attractive, or maybe even a bit out of place almost ? But you not caring is pissing them off

I see there's gonna be change to the situation but someone may have to trail off onto their own path :+( a bit shunned almost but it's a high probability it's this other person

It's possible someone with the same morals and values as you is helping the conflict "die out" but not caring or almost standing in solidarity

---ORACLE/ADVICE---

High Priest - "Intend and Create"

"Recognize you have the power to change you life. Face your fear and align with the light"

Kind of a plain message but with this card I am getting that you can literally move anyway you want with this and just move on

It seems your intentions were nothing but pure in the end so no Karma was ever delivered to you

How unfortunate for the other person :+pp

It also seems some may follow in your path a bit here but spirits asking you to reach out to someone like a teacher for further guidance if you feel stuck

---Channeled Songs---

Riptide - Grandson

"I've tried getting better, did all of the twelve steps

Whoever would'a thought? Whoever could've guessed?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

[chaoticgoodthief]

Redraw Time :D

So... It's been a while since I drew this. And... I gave into the siren call to do a redraw of my voice designs!

Alright, starting off with a major design change. Went with something a bit more abstract that I really think better captures "submission". Harsh edges (almost like broken glass) since no matter how weak-willed he is, he can and will still be a major threat against you.

Oh my gosh I am SO HAPPY with my Paranoid redraw I cannot begin to articulate how much I adore this new version compared to the last. Would have included a bit more blood, but... yeah I'm happy I went without. Because a) my hands already hurt and b) eh probably would have not looked that good anyway.

Poor, well-intentioned Smitten. He wants so badly to be human, to be the noble prince sweeping the princess off her feet. Such a shame he's doomed to be the monster no matter how hard he tries.

Another major design change, this time less abstract! Tried to keep the same animalistic look to him (Wide eyes, ear tufts looking like rabbit ears) but a lot more humanoid and mobile (my boy is fleeing) than before. Originally, I was trying to shape this into a Paranoid design, but I think Hunted fits it much better.

Often I see people giving Hero the knight in shining armour treatment. Which, honestly, fair. He is Hero after all. But look me in my digital eyes and tell me Stubborn isn't rocking the look. Dented armour and tattered cloak to add a bit of flavour. He's not just ready for battle. He is the battle.

Alright, I gave into masked Opportunist. What can I say? He is rocking the mask + suit combo. Inspiration for his mask comes mainly from bird-themed masquerade masks. One of the few designs that I actually kept the wings, mainly becuase they're just too him to leave out.

Not much changes with Cheated, mainly just changing his facial expression to better fit his personality and getting him mobile. Yes, I know he's literally just wearing bandages. Laugh all you want, but it's pretty convenient when you're getting turned into bird mâché.

Once again, not much changes needed for Cold. Just a bit of changing the placement of the string, a little additional violence (as a treat) and a few other minor aesthetic details to spruce up his Look TM.

Same general expression, but a lot of changes design-wise. Tried to include as many curving, amlost question-mark shapes in as I could and I think I'm happy with how it turned out. Also yes, he's literally leaving no stone unturned.

Hey come back here I haven't finished your backround yet- Oh well whatever guess I'll just get started then. Only voice other than Smitten with a brightly coloured outfit, a face that makes it hard to tell whether he's grinning or has downcast eyes, jester outfit because why not?

Alright, I lied. Hero still gets a bit of knight in the design of his ear tufts. Tried to keep with a more simplistic, abstract design while still adding a lot more of a Friend TM vibe that I think really worked out quite well.

Extra fun facts:

All the counterpart voices have the same arm markings! Spikes for Broken and Stubborn. Chain-like loops for Paranoid and Cold. Daggers/Blades for Smitten and Skeptic. Arrowheads for Hunted and Opportunist. Wavy lines for Cheated and Contrarian.

Counterpart voices also have the same ear tufts, some of them are just hidden from sight. Yes, this means that Opportunist's "ear tufts" are actually just part of his mask. He has the bunny ears too >:3

[transman-badass]

A Meeting at the Sow's Ear - a Cthulhu Mythos Short Story

"Evening to you, too, Mr. O'Tipp," I said and I felt the tightness of my words on my tongue.  Nathan O'Tipp smiled wider. He looks like a fine man until he smiles. Looks like he should be wandering a Hollywood studio, him with his perfect fair skin and his nice suits. But when he smiles, it stretches too wide, and his eyes have got a shine to them that I've never seen anyone else have. Even when the darkness hides everything else, I see his eyes, almost the same shade as my own. No, there's not a drop of human or humanity in him. I hope he doesn't know I know. "Come out of the dark, Harbinger," he said. "Let me get a better look at you. You are such a treasure to me, I can't let anyone else break you."

Part of the Pharaoh Syndicate Investigations series - a reupload with some edits

CW: blood, discussions of homicide, Prohibition and all that implies, body horror, mild trans/homophobia early on,

Arkham, 1931

Overhead the stars walked the sky like restless strangers, and the fat moon lounged back and watched us all. But it’d missed the fun. Before sunset, I shot two people for the contents of a dirty old bag. Now I walked with that bag down the street to Dad's house. No idea who's Dad he is. He may give me an allowance, but he sure ain't no family of mine.

From five houses down I heard it, one of the favored songbirds singing like it was still 1926. Closer I got, the reason why I heard her became obvious - they’d opened half the windows on the Sow’s Ear. No point hiding it from the coppers anymore. The boss owned them too.

Part of the ‘contract’ with my old boss and the new one took my name. Like the new boss said, I didn't need it anymore. I liked that name. I chose that name. I still use it with one single person. But for everyone else, I'm the Harbinger. And that means I’m whoever the boss wants me to be.

He don't know about this, so don't let me catch you calling me shit like Gumshoe or Dick Dickless. I get enough of that bull from my coworkers. If you wanna call me anything, call me by my real name.

My name was Lazarus, once. I'm 23 years old, pretty sure. I was born a woman. Not long ago, I was an investigator at Keller and Queens Detective Agency. Now I serve a monster pretending to be human. I don't think he knows I know that. I hope he doesn’t know I know that.

There are two speakeasies in town, and until I got my new job, I'd never been to either of them. I was a good citizen once upon a time. One of the speakeasies is run by a cult. The other is a cult. I'll let you guess which one I go to. Only real difference is who's at the center of it anyway.

The Sow's Ear is the center of the boss's operations in a part of Arkham nice people like to forget about. Pretty sure he lives above it. So what? Times are hard. Not a bad place to live anyway. Cute little spot, two stories, looks like all the others in town. Customers come in through the back, employees in the front. Somebody put a sign up for the Women's Christian Temperance Movement by the front door years ago. Boss must've thought it was funny. Now it's as worn and dirty as everything else in the city.

Adds to the charm, I guess.

I got one solid knock in on the door before it cracked open, and two glaring eyes met my own.

"What's the password?" The man spat out.

This was the dumbest part of the whole thing. He knew who I was, and I knew who he was. But old Lyman didn't like me much, and he took every opportunity to try and screw me over.

With a huff, I let the words out.

"Kynyarle keh-urak ghottu."

No, I don't know what that means either.

Lyman stared at me. He pulled away from the door.

"Tell Mr. O'Tipp his dyke is back," he said to someone on the other side.

The door swung open. I caught a glimpse of Lyman's back vanishing into the bar. I ground my teeth. Some men take it real personal, when you don't stick between the lines. I told myself again, I'll get him back for all the shit he'd put me through.

But the bag.

I closed the door behind me, adjusted my sweaty grip on my cargo. The stairs sat right in front of the door. Up I went into the maw.

Always felt like the steps were gonna collapse under me, with how they creaked and groaned underfoot. I go up and down them least once a week, mostly more, but the old wood hated me like everybody else. Not a single fucking picture hung on the wall to distract me, either.

What I really hate? The fact it's on purpose. The fact the bastard didn't need any message sent saying I was here. The fact he had my footsteps memorized the very first day we met.

I won't let him get to me, I said to myself, I lied to myself.

At the top of the stairs he has a velvet curtain hiding his little home away from home. Expensive, purple, golden gild and soft under my tired hand. I lifted it aside and walked into the shadows waiting for me. Heard the music nice and loud now, a voice deep and sweet blessing my ears. Not from the hallway in front of me, that led to his office. It came from the right. From the balcony that overlooked the speakeasy below. 

Two golden cats in the antique Egyptian style stood by on either side of the entry. Framing the view, more purple curtains, held back by golden chains. Between them, looking out over the dancing, thriving crowd… him.

As I watched him, me in the shadows and him in the light, he looked over his shoulder at me, and smiled.

"My personal investigator returns," he said. He folded his arms behind his back, took a step forward as he turned all the way to face me. "Once again you've cheated death, haven't you?"

I set my jaw, didn't look down where his eyes settled on my body. Didn't have time to wash out the blood before I headed here. Didn't want to tell him how much of that blood was mine.

"Evening to you, too, Mr. O'Tipp," I said and I felt the tightness of my words on my tongue. 

Nathan O'Tipp smiled wider. He looks like a fine man until he smiles. Looks like he should be wandering a Hollywood studio, him with his perfect fair skin and his nice suits. But when he smiles, it stretches too wide, and his eyes have got a shine to them that I've never seen anyone else have. Even when the darkness hides everything else, I see his eyes, almost the same shade as my own. No, there's not a drop of human or humanity in him. I hope he doesn't know I know.

"Come out of the dark, Harbinger," he said. "Let me get a better look at you. You are such a treasure to me, I can't let anyone else break you."

I ground my teeth, but didn't hesitate. Oh, I knew from experience what happened if you hesitated. Over the music I heard my shoes click on the tile. I walked to him and watched his smile grow even wider.

"That's my boy," he said. His hand gestured to the view beyond his balcony. "What a lovely night, isn't it? Beautiful summer, with all her life and bounty, rejoicing in her brilliance as she has for centuries."

Over the railing, there lay a different world. A little softer, a little dimmer, the glitz and gems a touch tarnished, but still beautiful like the dresses on the ladies. People dancing and gambling and kissing and drinking, like the world wasn't dying slow beyond these walls. 

God, the people, it caught me dead even in that moment. More shades of skin filled the room than I had ever seen before coming to this city. I thought I was more sophisticated than people wanted to believe, when I left that miserable place. Thought I'd impress people with how much I knew even if I was from Alabama. But nothing like this existed back there. The police would rather burn the whole place down with everyone inside than let white and black blend together. I guess I thought the whole country was like that, whether I liked it or not.

But Arkham was different. Arkham was… better. It sure taught me a lot of lessons. Biggest one is, I don't know as much as I think.

"It is lovely, sir," I said. At the sound of the last word, my grip tightened on the bag.

In the light his eyes did not quite shine but something dark and cruel glowed through his expression.

"I do love how you call me that," he said. He said, like I had any choice but to do so. "It's so much better than your previous defiance."

He must have seen how I fought the rage down, how my fists shook and trembled the bag. He must have, I saw it in the dark twist of his smile.

I wasn't just a detective back at the old agency. I was in charge of the entire investigation into O'Tipp and his tricks. I hunted him, and he hunted me. So many nights I spent on him, staking out his territory, talking to witnesses, finding the clues that could unlock whatever terrible dirty secrets he held.

And I lost. I didn't even know it was a game, that I was never a threat to him, that he was enjoying the hunt. I lost and he won, he won me and my sister, too. Now I'm gonna be working for this bastard for the rest of my life.

And I know, he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Mr. O'Tipp gestured with a finger, guiding me away from the view below. I watched the muscles of his face tighten with hunger or anticipation as he looked at the bag in my hand.

"How much did it cost?" He stepped into the shadows, his long fingers tracing the dangling chains on the wall.

I looked away from him. O'Tipp didn't mean cash.

"Two." I mumbled the word. 

"Oh?" He glanced back at me. 

Details. He wanted details. I forced myself to inhale. 

"The first bled out, I think." I couldn't have saved the poor bastard even if I knew how. "Took a bullet to the chest." Took my bullet to the chest. "The other was guarding… It." Nausea curled inside my stomach. It. The thing in the bag. "I shot him in the back of the head. Like you told me to."

"Good boy," O'Tipp said, and the light cast a shadow on his face, like the skin were paper and the flesh were a mask. "Did you look into the bag?"

I closed my eyes. I couldn't force the memory down. How my fingers curled around the box-like shape within the burlap, only for my flesh to sink into something cold and beating like a pulse beneath them.

"No, sir," I said

"But you're sure it's the right thing?" 

I did not open my eyes. I could not handle the thought of seeing the smile I heard. I could not help but think that if I opened my eyes, the face looking at me would not be human anymore.

 "Very much so, sir."

"My dear Harbinger," O'Tipp said, "Where is your curiosity? Wouldn't you like to see what you've brought me?"

Now I opened my eyes, and they opened wider than I wanted them to.

"Definitely not, sir."

He stood in front of the door to his office, smiling at me. I looked at his eyes to fight the thought of too many teeth.

"A pity," O'Tipp said. "It would have been better for you if you'd been willing to… expand your knowledge of the world."

My stomach sank with understanding.

"But!" He beamed at me, like a father gazing proud at his offspring. "That makes it more fun for me. Come on then."

He opened the door. Numb, I followed.

A strange little otherworld, Nathan O'Tipp's office is. A little antique and ancient, a lot of books and papers. Globes on the shelves of bookcases stacked to the ceiling. Star charts papering the exposed walls. Nonsense maps full of nonsense places. The world beyond the window, hidden by the same curtains he used everywhere else, golden tacks pinning down the fabric so not a drop of sunlight could fall inside. Furniture in all types of wood, light, dark, painted, lacquered, raw. 

His empty desk waited for us.

I don't even remember when he took the bag from me. He rested it on the desk, and the fabric sunk way, way down. The same boxy shape, thick as my wrist, and yet the fabric darkened around the edges of it, wet.

O'Tipp breathed in, and exhaled a light chuckle.

He raised a hand, looked at me. With care, he removed the glove from each finger, one at a time, and let it drop to the floor. 

"Don't look away," he whispered, and I knew that was an order.

His hand rested on the flat surface of the bag, and sank down. The fabric and the thing beneath it shivered like disturbed water. 

My throat locked up. I did not look away.

"Yes," O'Tipp said, eyes locked on the bag. "You’re the real thing, aren't you?" He nodded his head, looked up at me, and I saw it exposed bare to me, the disconnect between what I knew of reality, and what he knew of it.

"Don't," I mumbled.

"I've been waiting years to find this," he said. "And it came into my grasp so easily. I did not even need to negotiate with their god to do it." O'Tipp leaned over the desk towards me. "Dagon will be furious to know I have this. This sick creation, somewhere between science and witchcraft - the creation of a mind as brilliant as our own beloved Keziah Mason!"

"Please let me leave," I thought, I mumbled.

"You are a miracle worker, you know that, boy? You are, undoubtedly, my favorite curse upon this tiny planet. And this book?"

His wet fingers gripped the cord on the bag. With one pull, the bag opened, releasing a smell I've never forgotten. 

"It’s mine now. Mine just as much as you and she are."

Without ceremony or care, O'Tipp snatched the bottom of the bag and upended it. Something green, or something black, something both and neither and iridescent tumbled down. It hit the wood with a crack like a breaking bone, the sick smack of flesh falling from a height it could not survive.

It gurgled like a drowning animal. Water, dark and grimy, bubbled from the open hole of the spine.

And the smell. That goddamn smell. Like the sea became as stagnant as still water. The copper rot of an untreated open wound. Seaweed and fish left dead in the sun and storm.

And my voice shook as I spoke, as I recognized the thing by its shape.

"A book?" I said. "That's it? It's a book?"

O'Tipp pulled his other glove off with his teeth and I could have imagined it but before he tossed it aside, I saw holes in the fabric. Barehanded, he ran his fingers over the cover, and it rippled under his touch.

"A grimoire," he said, stroking the dark, slick surface. "Written by a stranger in a land far more obscure than any on the surface." His smile, his smile, there was nothing I knew of sanity in that smile. He looked to me and his mouth stretched wider.

"Have you ever been to Innsmouth?" He said, and did not wait, because he already knew the answer. "Quaint town with too many secrets. It's up north from here. The whole place was claimed by a cult worshiping a god that lives in the sea, so they say, until the federal agents burned it all down. So they all say. So all you need to know right now.” He tilted his head, the smile staying still. “Look at you, you're so pale. Have you never seen a book before?"

I said nothing. He seemed to like that.

"If you care to believe me," he said, "this-" his fingers tapped the surface of the book, sending waves through the flesh. "Was made from the body of one of those cultists.” He chuckled at me. “Oh, please don't faint, you still have to walk home. Don't be upset." His voice lowered. "This isn't made from a human."

I shouldn't have said it, but I couldn't look away from it. From him.

"Then what is it made of?"

"A Deep One. Skin, cartilage, preserved flesh - no scales, did you notice?"

I shook my head. His expression dripped with sarcastic, amused pity.

"Don't worry, I'll spare you the bookbinding lesson. It's a gruesome thing, so I've heard. But I'll show you one more thing."

Please don't, I thought.

"It still drips with sea water, did you notice?" His hand traced over the lock. A flick of the fingers and without a key, it opened. "But look inside…"

I didn't want to. I did.

The pages, bone white, dark letters of a language I'd never seen before. Bone white pages. Bone dry pages.

"Fascinating, isn't it? What horrors lie in this book, do you think, in that language I have yet to teach you?”

O'Tipp slammed the book shut. I stumbled back, and he laughed.

"Go home, my precious detective," he said. "You've done a wonderful job today. No need to come in for a while. Keziah and I are going to be very busy with my new prize. Enjoy a break - I’ll find you when I need you.”

Despite the way my veins pounded, so loud in my ears I barely heard anything else, I answered him.

"I know, sir."

His gaze hungered. 

"Good boy."

I did not head home quickly. In fact, I did not leave the building quickly. No, I'll tell you the truth: I did not even go down the stairs for a good long while. I stepped from the office, the air chilling on my colorless face, and swayed. My body hit the wall. Somehow I did not fall despite the tremble in my legs, the sickness in my gut.

My eyes closed. I welcomed the dark, my mind not again showing me the hideous thing, the hideous, handsome man I served. The black swallowed me and I breathed in the air, ghosts of tobacco and perfume and alcohol wafting up from the floor below.

Again I thought of myself less than four months before, my bright eyes in the mirror, my determination throbbing within my soul. Again I thought of myself back then, and I thought, what nightmare was I hunting?

The office door opened.

“Oh! You’re still here!” O’Tipp said. “I was afraid I’d have to track you down.”

I did not want to do it. I opened my eyes and shifted towards him. His beaming smile, so paternal, churned my stomach anew.

“I almost forgot,” he said, stepping towards me. “Your allowance.”

His gloveless hand gripped my wrist, his other shoved something into my palm. Damp hands, hands far too warm for this night, far too warm for what he’d been handling.

“You’ve done excellent work today, my boy.” O’Tipp patted my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t have a choice but to speak.

“Thank you sir,” I whispered.

As his eyes narrowed and his smile darkened, I almost thought - I don’t know what I thought. But he said nothing more. He stepped away, his hand lingering on my skin, and that was the last thing I truly knew before his office door slammed shut.

I could have left then, when my legs recovered their strength. I could have fled, and run down the street, and never looked back. And yet within my disjointed soul, I understood something almost instinctive - I should not be alone right now, not after that.

My feet carried me to the balcony. I sat on the floor, and watched the people below.

To be part of society and yet apart from it. Yes, I knew that very well, as my cruel grandparents taught me, as I knew now as a different kind of man. A separation from humanity, a barrier put between me and anyone that could have, in another life, loved me. Yes, I understood that. Perhaps it helped me understand them.

How happy they all were, down there. How sweet the woman, a different one now, sang her songs of love and loss. How the people moved between tables, greeting friends. How they clinked their fancy drinks in fancier glasses together. 

A sample of humanity, together. All those colors of clothes and hair and skin, together. Like the world beyond did not exist, like there was not an even bigger nightmare lurking at the edges of the horrors we all pretended not to think about.

A Deep One. A living thing that was not human. Something below the surface of the ocean waves. A god. A cult - another damned cult, of course there would be. Could I not escape them? A small amount of distance allowed me to think of it more. So long as I did not picture the book, I could wonder about it. What was a Deep One? What kind of a life did a thing like that have? Did it have a family? Did it have friends? Did it feel love, as humans did?

Was it still alive, even as a book?

In my soul, I ached. Not for the dead, but for me, taken from my home just as the book was.

My gaze drifted, my thoughts eased to a crawl. Down there, down on the floor, I saw him. I did not truly understand what I saw, but I did, I saw him, and he saw me. I let myself blink, focus, in time to see his lips curl into a smile. Dark skin, red clothes, sharp eyes.

He knew me. I knew him. No one else might understand. No one else could understand, I think, that little jolt of electricity that surged within me. That little taste of… hope, perhaps. He knew me, he knew of me, I knew him, knew of him. That brilliant man with his glittering grin. We were both born women. We were both skilled in our fields despite our ages. We were both connected to this nightmare in ways others could not understand. 

I tilted my hat to him. He raised his glass to me.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I left.

The city struggled through the night, and the old blood had wrecked my vest. I buttoned up my jacket over it. I’d survived another mission, somehow, by that monster I am bound to serve. There’s a lot of ways to die in this town, and not all of them involve a bullet.

I was so tired of thinking about that. That money he gave me rested heavy in my pocket.

Little detour and then, to home I went. To the Witch House, where I’d lived since arriving in Arkham. O’Tipp bought it too, along with me. Sure enough, on that battered old porch, they waited for me. The old gate creaked as I shoved it open. A set of bright eyes behind round glasses looked up from the book she’d been reading aloud. Sadie, my partner in crime, my sister in soul, Sadie, jumped from her chair.

“Lazarus!” Her arms wrapped around me and I hugged her tight right back, and the grin that formed threatened to split my face in two. “You’re alright!”

Couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. 

“Well, mostly,” I said. 

On the porch, the other woman hadn’t moved, rocking back and forth in her chair. Her hands in her lap, her hair fallen past the bandages over her eyes, her focus all on me. She smiled, and I could taste the hope that radiated from her.

“I got a surprise for you guys,” I said, and reached into my pocket.

I can imagine what O’Tipp would say, spending so much of my allowance on candy like a child. But what did I care about his thoughts? It was more than a snack for my two favorite girls, it was an offering for their happiness. For my happiness. What was the point of going through this nightmare, if you couldn’t be happy every now and then?

Overhead the fat moon sat and watched it all. I settled into one of the chairs, let myself relax for the first time since the sun rose that morning. Soon, the others who lived in this ancient building would return, and we all could rest for the first time in hours. But underneath the sound of the summer night and my sister’s voice, I heard the pages turning.

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[stargazingfordreams]

The Star that missed The Sun

Nyx x Reader

Warning- arrange marriage, cute stuff.

A/N- Soo you guys are fantastic I really didn't expect anyone to like part one so much; I really just thought that maybe it was going to be a one-shot but you guys seemed to have loved it, so here is a part two

Word Count- 2.1K

Part One

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of birds chirping outside of my room. The morning sun crept in, shining on my face. I sighed deeply and lifted myself off my bed, blinking a few times while waiting for my eyes to adjust. I threw myself back down on my bed, hoping to resume my sleep. Until I heard a slight knock at my door

"My lady? I came in to give you a wake-up call," a handmaiden came in. I recognized her as one of the ones who helped me get ready for my wedding. It was hard to forget how she looked with her short blonde hair, tan skin, and blue eyes. She looked like she would have loved being back home.

"Yes, thank you."

She smiled and entered and began to run a bath for me and unload my luggage to find a dress for the day. I went into the bathroom and sunk into the tub, adding some floral scents to the water. I allowed the warm water to ease my mussels.

After a while, I left the tub and re-entered my room, where the handmaiden stood waiting and helped me get ready.

"How do I get to the garden?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, my lady, but Lord Nyx had an emergency this morning and cannot join you for breakfast. He extends his apologies." I felt disappointed, snuggling its way into my body. But should I have gotten my hopes up? My father did his best to be present, and he was, but that doesn't mean that he was always there, and I shouldn't expect that of my husband either.

"Oh, I see. Well, I suppose I can explore Velaris," I told her. She bowed

"I'll go and grab your cloak, my lady."

"I didn't catch your name?" I called out to her

"It's Althaia."

"It's good to meet you" I smiled as she handed me my white cloak, and I went out the door. The street is bright and filled with bustling shops. Everything was so different. In Day court, the road was paved with white gold brick that matched the building, and the sun always hung high on the most beautiful days, but here everything was different. The buildings were lined in all different colors, with the streets black and brown cobblestone. Until I walked to a bridge, shops looked like they were setting up for lunch. Then, I looked at one shop that caught my eye, Eleftheria Saoirse, in bold letters. I was greeted by a woman who looked a few years older than me.

"My name is Abrial. Thank you for coming in." I smiled at her enthusiasm when I entered. I introduce myself.

"Oh yes, your lord Nyx's new bride!" she exclaimed

"Your shop is lovely" I gazed over the dresses and fabric.

"Oh, thank you, dear. Do you sew?" she asked.

"Me? Oh no, my mother did, but she never taught me" she looked at me, a little sad.

"What a shame, well what can I do for you?" it dawned on me at this moment that I didn't have any money.

"Oh, thank you, but I wouldn't be able-"

"Don't worry, truly I don't mind," she interrupted. She must have seen that I was going to protest again, so she continued before I could.

"At least let me give you a cloak; it will help you blend in better" I looked down at my attire.

"Nothing is wrong with it, but it makes it obvious that you are not from here. Anyway, Lord Nyx has a credit line that you can use" I didn't like the idea of me just using Nyx's credit line. I'll pay him back when he gets home.

"Okay, a cloak then." She lit up and went to get a plain night court blue cloak. I reached out to take it, but she moved to her sewing machine.

"I have this wonderful idea for a design; it would be lovely."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to, plus I've been doing this forever, so it won't take me long! I made a dress that would look great with the design I was thinking about. So maybe you can try it on, and don't worry, it's just a try on" she gave me a wink and pushed me into a dressing room with the dress in my hand.

I slipped the dress on, and she was right. The fabric was night court blue and had golden swirls embroidered at the bottom that rose to my knee, and in between the wheels were little gold stars and suns; I looked at myself in the mirror though I frowned a little. I studied my arms. I wasn't happy with it. I know I shouldn't think about these things, but sometimes I couldn't help. I began to pick apart everything that was wrong with me.

You look Beautiful

The thought crept into my head.

"Abrial? Did you say something" I ask

"No, dear, I didn't. Did you try the dress? I must see how it looks" I looked once again at myself for some reason feeling just a little more confident. I stepped out of the dressing room and gave her a twirl.

"Just as I thought, it's a great fit." She walked up with the cloak and placed it on me. The cloak matches perfectly with the gold thread that made a design on the back.

Half a sun and half a moon meet together to create one. The symbol of both courts.

"It's perfect." I breathed out in disbelief at how beautiful they looked together. She packed up my old clothes and put them in a bag. I gave her a look.

"The dress was made for you consider it a wedding gift."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"I wouldn't mind the company every once and a while. Maybe I can even teach you to sew." She handed me the shopping bag.

"I can definitely do that, thank you. "I gave her a respectful bow before heading towards the door. I opened it and had one foot out when I stopped.

"How did you know that I was from day court?" I asked her.

"What?"

"The sun and the moon is the design that you did, but I didn't tell you I was from day court"

"You clothes, dear, I have been sewing for a long time, and I recognized the clothes and cloak from day court," she said, giving me a wave and cleaning up her station.

"Right, of course, you did say I looked like an outsider" I chuckled at her, simply nodding. I must be losing it. I first heard voices and now questioning people who had been kind to me.

"Have a good evening, My lady."

"You too, Abrial. See you soon!" I walked out of the shop and continued walking around Velaris, visiting many shops just to look. It wasn't until I was tired and starving that I realized I had no idea how to return to the townhouse. Oh no, this is great, just great.

I walked around trying to stop people, but everyone was either going home in a rush or getting restaurants ready for dinner and had no time to stop what they were doing. I sighed in defeat. I looked up at the sky and saw the sun setting. It will be dark soon. I almost gave up when I ran into Lord Cassian and Lady Nesta. But, no actually ran into them. Lord Cassian had to steady me to stop me from falling over.

"Whoa, there little spell-cleaver are you okay" once I was upright, he let go.

"I'm sorry, Lord Cassian, I'm a little turned around, actually lost." Cassian laughed at me. My cheeks heated. Did I say something wrong? Nesta lightly hit his stomach.

"It's hard to believe that you are Helion's daughter. You're far too polite to be related, little fawn," he said in between fits of laughter.

"Calling us Nesta and Cassian is just fine, love; we can help you get back home" Nesta shook her head at Cassian but gave me a smirk. He threw his arm around us, tucking me in between him and Nesta.

"Cassian, you're scaring the poor girl, and she's not a little doll, you know," she said, seeing amusement on his face.

"I can't be excited for our new niece Nes" his smile beamed at me.

"Ignore him; he lacks manners. I've tried to teach him, but I've been failing since we've been mated." Her face was serious, but I couldn't help but giggle. I looked down and noticed the book she had tucked under her arm.

"If you like that series, try the one her brother wrote. It gives a unique look at a romance book from a male's perspective."

"Do you like romance books?" Nesta asked, her face lighting up since the first time I met her at my wedding

"Yes, of course, you should have seen our library back home; my father gave me my section when he learned I liked to read books for fun," I told her.

"Oh no, not you too! You enjoy those smutty books that Nes can't seem to put down." she rolled her eyes at him but still held such a strong sense of love behind them.

"Please come by the house of wind. My friends and I like to meet up occasionally to discuss what we are reading, and we have a library underground that I wouldn't mind showing you." I don't know how long we were walking back, but before I knew it, here we were.

"I'll take you up on that, Nesta, and thank you for helping me find my way back," I said my goodbyes and went to the townhouse. I took off my cloak and set down my bag before the aroma of food flooded my senses. I followed it to the back of the house and into the garden. There I found a table for two with mountains of food and lights that hung in the sky. Nyx was fixing the table. When I came in, he turned to me.

"You have perfect timing," he said proudly, looking at his work.

"What is this?" I said in complete shock at the masterpiece before me

"Well, I really wanted to have breakfast with you this morning, but something came up that I couldn't ignore, but I made a promise to you, and well, I'm sorry that I couldn't keep it." he held out his hand seating me in the chair and pushing it in.

"Oh, I understand, really. You didn't have to go through all of this."

"It's okay, I wanted to," he sat across from me.

We had spent the night eating and talking, and I opened up to him. I told him about my childhood and how much trouble I got into with my two sisters. I told him about the pegasus that I had back home and the first flying lesson that I ever had. Some of the adventures that I had in the summer court with Cordelia, Cressida's daughter. And, of course, some of my safer experiences. Nyx had opened up to me too, telling me how close his family is, and not just with him and his siblings but also with his cousins, his one big happy family. I enjoyed it even if it made me sad to think about my brother, who hardly acknowledged us, or my absent mother. His family seems inseparable from my messy dysfunctional one.

"So, how did you like Velaris? I heard you went out and explored."

'It's different."

"A good different?"

"It's beautiful, truly it is. I found a dress shop, and the owner was so nice."

"I should have told you when you walked in that you look beautiful; that dress really does look amazing on you," he said.

You look beautiful. That voice.

"It was you? Were you in my head" I half believed it myself?

"Oh yes, I'm sorry, must have forgotten that detail," he smirked, holding his wine glass to his lips.

"May I?" he asked. I nodded my head, and then this familiar presence pulled over me.

I wouldn't do it not without your permission, but I felt your thoughts, and they were racing. I thought that you might be in trouble.

And you can do this whenever you want

Only if you allow me

I paused momentarily, unsure how to process it, but then I remembered the dress shop and how it made me feel better after hearing him.

I wouldn't mind.