#but YES i do this for free and sometimes it drains my sanity

[sytoran]

i came across this kink while doing my research for kinktober... it was mainly for those anime guys where fem!reader is a mermaid, but i was like "let's switch things up" and this was the result 👀

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟓 — 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

kinktober day 005 | mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader

as captain of a notorious gang of pirates, you've got a reputation of steel, but when there's a pretty little mermaid presenting herself for you, there's no chance in hell you're not saying yes.

cont. sweet talk, begging, humiliation, overstimulation word count. 2178

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Righto, fellas, so we got sixty ducats – twenty doubloons, is it?” Bucky asks lackadaisically, tossing gold coins up and down with his good hand. 

A loud guffaw surrounds the group of you huddled around the campfire. You shake your head with a toothy grin at your right-hand man’s idiocy. Even the least educated pirates in your gang knew what sixty divided by two was.

You reach over and knock the side of Bucky’s head with your bloodied knuckles. “That brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin’ cup for a canary, buddy.” 

“Aw, kiss my boot, ya fuckin’ cunt-licker,” the dark-haired man grumbles in response, still playing with his shiny gold coins. He playfully punches your arm his prosthetic one.

In record timing, you whip out your dagger from your cow-skin belt and pierce the hole in Bucky’s coin midair, pinning the coin to the nearest tree with a deadly aim.

“Cunt-licker is right,” you say smugly, going to ruffle Bucky’s already shaggy hair. The impressed hoots and jeering taunts at your dagger-throwing skills are all good-hearted, as is the general atmosphere within your gang.

The lot of you were specialists in your craft, the most formidable and deadly in the piracy industry. Five years ago, you had claimed the largest plot of land that was the very island you lived on with your mates. Tu’Au was surrounded by the freshest of ocean water and the most gorgeous of views.

There was also a legend of the mystical mermaids that lived beneath Tu’Au, but you didn’t believe any of that bosh and bullshit about supernatural creatures. You’d believe it when you saw one with your very own eyes.

“Yall’ finish up counting our loot for the day, I’m gonna take a walk by the shore,” you say, adjusting the piece of tobacco between your lips and then dusting off your pants. “Don’t let Buck do the counting.”

“Got it, boss,” Steve answers promptly, ever the loyal one. Bucky rolls his eyes.

Loveable idiots, you think, tossing your hat to the side. Strolling away from the main camp, you finally take a deep inhale of that tobacco, smoke trailing off into the orange sunset.

As you walk along the shore, bare feet on the wet sand, you look up and close your eyes. It was times like these that were simple, times like these that you never wanted to end—

“I said, get away from me! Please, just leave me alone!”

A feminine, desperate cry from the distant ocean has you blinking open your eyes in sudden alertness, darting to the source of the sound.

From a short distance to shore, there is chaos occurring within the waters. What seems to be a muscular, bare-chested man is swimming inhumanly fast towards a significantly smaller-sized woman with long, cascading hair. 

Though both of them certainly spoke like regular humans, there was a certain way about their moving in the waters and tremendous presence that had you second-guessing yourself.

“Get back here, you good for nothin’! You’ll make up your mind when I fuckin’ want you to!”

He’s yelling foul words at her, catching up to her already, clearly incredibly unpleased. Suddenly, the man dives down, and you catch sight of a shimmering blue tail above the waters before it disappears.

Hang on a damn moment. Merfolk are real?

But before your brain can process what you truly just saw, the merman reemerges much closer to the mermaid, massive gold spear in a vice grip.

As if a gear was kicked into motion, you sprint towards the water. Kicking up water as you run through the shallow part of the ocean, you stumble but never slow down, eyes set on the target. It’s prey-or-predator right now, either conquer the enemy or die trying.

The said target has got the mermaid in his massive arms, wrapping around her torso and forcefully dragging her back into the deep waters. Her strangled cries get muffled by the water, cries and pleas ringing in your ears.

Just before you dive into the water, your hand flies to that trusty weapon holster, and a sharp dagger flies at the merman with an air-cutting, brutal force. “Y/N bullseye L/N,” you remember Bucky saying with a stupid grin on his face. “Never misses a shot.”

A millisecond before your plunge into the ocean, the stunning blue eyes of the mermaid meet yours, and you lose all the air in your lungs.

You’ve never seen anything like it, never laid your eyes upon such a breathtaking beauty before. Blue eyes deeper than the depths of the ocean, sparkling more than the brightest of glimmering stars, 

An agonized cry from the merman hauls you out of your trance. The dagger struck him directly in the right eye, just as expected, just as you had calculated. Opaque red blood comes out in spurts, and his hands release the mermaid and go to clutch at his eye.

Your arms glide in the water, smooth and cutting, bringing you closer to the struggling pair. 

Seizing the moment of the merman’s distractedness, you wrap your arms around the mermaid. You immediately notice the way she sinks into your embrace, head drooping to lean against your chest as you struggle to move through the water.

You really try to not think too hard about the lithe body in your arms. It was proving to be an incredibly difficult task.

After your hell of an escapade, you have the mermaid girl propped up against the wet rocks. It takes a while for you to notice that you’re on all fours above her, panting heavily with wide eyes and a drenched white shirt.

When you do realise it, though, you get off her immediately, clearing your throat awkwardly. So much for being a scary pirate.

“You alright?” you ask instead, fiddling with the collar of your white shirt. It had gotten drenched while you were in the water, along with all your clothes and your hair.

You were having a hard time trying to avoid looking at her chest since it was literally in front of you.

“You saved me,” the mermaid finally speaks, eyelashes wet with drops of water, her voice softer and sweeter than you could ever have imagined. You get a bit lost in the delicacy of her red lips as she stares back at you.

“Right,” you answer, your throat suddenly dry. 

“What is your name, human?” the mermaid asks, hand going to stroke at the curvature of your jawline that was dotted with droplets of water. The touch was honey-like.

“Y/N. How ‘bout you?”

“Wanda.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Prettier than me?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly, voice a little hoarser than before. Your eyes dart around to focus on anything but the ethereal mermaid before you, but soon they land on a wound at her tail.

“Oh, shucks, you’re bleeding. I’ll go get bandages an’ stuff from base,” you say, looking at the nasty wound on the tip of Wanda’s tail, incarnadine blood leaking out of it.

“Don’t go,” the mermaid suddenly says, and there’s this little begging lilt to her voice that messes up your brain chemistry. “I mean, mermaids have healing properties, so you don’t have to go,” she mumbles, looking away with her cheeks flushed. Cute.

“That’s cool,” you answer, leaning back to let your hands run over the tip of her tail. Just like she said, the wound heals itself, slowly stitching back that scaly-smooth skin with a magical touch.

You give her tail a long stroke, running your fingers through the little scales that decorate this new thing you’d like to explore.

“Hng,” a little whimper suddenly escapes from the mermaid, and the both of you freeze. It’s a fine line between comedy and erotica.

You rub at her tail again, harder this time, and Wanda lets out a louder moan. 

You start massaging her tail, hands spreading out over the sensitive area, kneading gently. Wanda’s face is absolutely flushed, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Kiss me?” she asks, breathlessly, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Warm mouths meet in an inferno of lust, Wanda’s head tilting up to meet yours, your head tilting down to chase hers. The moment you taste the sweetness of her lips, a trigger is flicked inside of your brain, and your body kicks it into overdrive.

Your hands tug off the seashell bra with unbridled haste, flinging it behind you without a care in the world. Wanda squeaks against your lips at your sudden boldness, hands going to encircle the back of your neck.

But that’s before you’re grabbing both her wrists with one hand and pinning it above her head against the wet rock. She moans as your lips make their way down the column of her porcelain, leaving red hickeys into the pale canvas like it was a work of art.

It was true, to a certain extent, because this mermaid before you was a work of art: brown hair splayed onto the wet rock like something out of a Renaissance painting, water droplets across her eyelids, breathing and panting your name, hips moving helplessly under your stronger body, trying to chase a fraction of the pleasure that you’re dangling out of reach.

Your mouth latches on to her supple breasts with eagerness, lips wrapping around her hardened bud. Wanda lets out a shriek when you suck on it, hard. As a mermaid, the sensations and emotions that they felt were many times that of a human, and you were making it no easier for her.

“N-Need you,” Wanda pleads, when you flick at her other pretty pink nipple, admiring how her body arches along with the sensation. 

“Need me where?” you ask, a lust-coated rasp in your voice, edged with a tone of teasing that has Wanda’s head spinning. 

You finally release her hands, and Wanda grabs your right hand with certainty, sliding it down her shuddering body and scaled tail to where a pussy would be.

Instead, your fingertips find a hot, wet, slit.

“Fuck,” you growl into Wanda’s skin, lost in the sheer thoughts of how much you could ruin her.

“Please?” Wanda begs again, giving you the biggest doe eyes she could. You didn’t need any convincing, anyway.

“All this for me?” You ask, ruthlessly plunging two fingers into her dripping slit. It’s warm and wet, and so tight. Your fingers explore, straightening out then curling in, going in big circles then in smaller ones.

All through your unabashed exploration of Wanda’s cunt, the pretty little mermaid is left completely at your mercy. She’s writhing, never been touched like this before.

“S’ too, too much,” she babbles incoherently when you slide a third finger in, thrusting in and out of her gorgeous little cunt like it’d be the last time you’d get to do this. Because in all honesty, it might be.

That thought alone spurs you on to go even faster, playing with Wanda’s body like a fiddle, making all the right noises with the right fingerings.

“Y/N,” she cries, long fingernails ripping the back of your vest to shreds. You don’t give a damn about it.

Turns out, mermaids have several sweet spots, because you’re finding all of them and breaking her with it.

“Gonna cum already?” you ask, “Needy little thing, hm? Couldn’t even wait five minutes?” Wanda tries to shake her head, but your other hand is stroking the length of her tail.

“Come f’me, sweet thing.”

Those words send her over the edge, snapping the knot that had been building in her belly.

“Y/N!” Wanda screams, a melodious tune, hands clawing at the edges of the rocks, then the back of your neck, all while her head is thrown back. Her tail is flapping in a state of no control, lost in the pleasure you’re feeding her.

Acknowledging the delicious tightening of Wanda’s mermaid slit around your three fingers, you opt to instead go at an even faster pace, fingers thrusting deeper into her body, because you wanted every inch of it.

“Y/N,” Wanda sobs, because she sees stars. Those brilliant blue eyes getting teary with your relentless pace. The tears escape the corners of her eyes and cascade down her cheeks like a waterfall.

It’s a sight you’d imprint into your memory forever, when Wanda’s ocean blue eyes roll into the back of her head and her little mermaid body goes limp in your arms.

You admire her for many moments, at how she had made you fuck her silly, at how she was yours now.

—

“Why’re you smilin’ like a baked possum?” Bucky asks you once you head back to camp. It’s early the next day, still dark out in the wide seas. He’s sprawled out on a wide hammock, sharpening a knife. Steve is cuddled into his chest.

Your lips curve into a stupidly smug smirk. “Not that you would know a dime about pussy, but remember what you said about cunt-lickers?”

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[yanaleese]

hear me out... Karma with a silly incubus/succubus MC? :) but MC doesn't drain Karma of his energy/life when they get freaky

Ok so first of all i attempted to a gender neutral MC here. However the first one looked a little too fem so I did a more masculine look to balance things out! I also don't mean to offend anyone here!

But let's get back to brainstorming together!!! <3333

SO FIRST OF ALL - VERY WHOLESOME. They'd be super cute together!!!

Incubus/Succubus! MC in Karma's world would have a hard time facing discrimination since they're seen as promiscuous, flirtatious, manipulative, dangerous, and useless. Not even werewolves get such bullying and/or harassment compared to these type of demons. It's even worse if sucubi/incubi do not fit the beauty type displayed. I honestly see this MC having a lot of challenges just being themselves, that they put on multiple facades.

Therefore, this MC would be distant upon first interaction, and distrustful of others. I can imagine multiple types of Incubus/Succubus! MCs:

(1) A sly, ‘mean’ MC within the sex industry. Their main job would be (but not limited to) helping wives test their husbands without making them suspicious. But little did the wives know, MCs getting extra money thanks sleeping with these cheaters. When the cheaters are then caught red-handed, MC would taunt them and be like “Oh my gosh? Really? You had a husband???” In the fakest way possible. They enjoy serving karma (👀), since MC couldn’t serve karma due to the abuse and injustice they got growing up. I imagine them meeting Karma when he becomes the new boss of MC’s company, replacing their actually kind, caring boss and best friend they loved to have company with.

While yes, it is a desperate move, he knows it will be worth it. After all, why would vampires, who are welcomed into society - stoop so low for sex work? That would enrage that MC that they’ll look for any and every good reason to tear Karma; cue the haters to lovers arc (lol).

(2) A ‘play dumb’, approachable MC. This MC would use their bright smile in the day doing odd jobs, and use their sex appeal in nightclubs, hostess clubs, strip clubs. As a result, MC either has serious networking or serious drama underneath their belt. To not catch unwanted attention, MC would act like an airhead, cutesy, or just plain innocent like 😇🥺🥹😜🥸🫢. Karma and MC’s first interaction would happen if MC gets framed, blackmailed, and just anything that puts them in danger lol, so basically the Superman option. The other option is the “casual client” scenario, where Karma’s always been their client on the day or night side, until something goes to shit LMAO

(3) The most interesting one here is Incubus/Succubus! MC meeting Dark! Karma. Maybe Karma went on a trip overseas, saw you and boom. Hooked. After that, he does his best to meet you, but under the pretense of keeping your affair a secret with NO sex involved. Realizing you’ve hit jackpot, you think life will be easy. But note that, sometimes the biggest diamond requires the biggest risks - and maaaaaybe that risk will cost your freedom and sanity.

There are so many ideas to come out of this; so feel free to choose which route you wanna go, Anon!!!

[lovebvni]

Pink Pick-A-Pile (from 08.28.2022)

LMFAOOA IDK WHY I USED THIS PICTURE!!

but before reading, please realize when i made this, i was in a My Hero Academia reality shifting community. Currently, I am no active there, so if you find these posts,,, yes they were me. LMFAOOAOAO and some of this blog has been edited for my sanity.

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 27.8.22

[  ] published ⋮  27.8.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hi lovelies!! changing what i did last time for a pick a pile, im going to be doing a more motivational one!

by no means does it mean im going to be all nice, im just going to praise you and all that you and all you’re doing. its just gonna be less about WHAT and more about HOW you can change it and also motivating you to do more/what other things you can do to help you shift faster (if you’re still working to your first attempt) or how you can positively change your shifting journey. also you guys know i can be kind of blunt and then the alice in wonderland tarot is BRUTAL but im using the White Numen deck this time (which honestly is my nsfw deck LFMAJSUHNTE BUT I WANT AN EXCUSE TO USE THEM FOR A PICK A PILE!!!)

breathe in...

and out...

now please, pick a pile or two

Pile 1

Hello pile 1 and welcome to your reading!!

confirmation for this pile: 1111, angel numbers, reunions, supernatural dr, stability, not changing ‘im not seeing results’, pisces, water signs, christmas/yule, holidays, “its just out my reach”, unstable perspectives, cows, animals, outdoors

cards: the hanged man, knight of cups (r), six of wands, ace of swords

not even gonna lie, at first i got 11 cards.., i shuffled the 11 i got to make this pile smaller so i dont drain myself during the first pile jaoishtioeh

this pile is in either a state of waiting or a state of wanting change. you’re waiting for it and you’re working on it but its almost tiring? maybe you’re loosing the hope, motivation, the fire under your ass because of this waiting. i just remember that one blog that said that sometimes shifting is like a waiting game, i feel like thats the place you guys are right now.

in the kindest way possible, your emotions are out of wack. i feel a lot of stress, anger, hurt and just instability in emotions. maybe doing shadow work, vent art, sharing your feelings, poetry, etc. dont avoid these feelings because once you confront them and move on with life, it will be much easier.

again with being creative and venting in a not natural (?) way, ace of swords and six of wands is kinda like a ‘yeah do this.’ a nod in the right direction. being creative and changing the way you develop and think about things will help you a lot. you got this babes! you’ll get the big change you want when you start thinking outside the box. dont do the things you always used to do, but change the way you approach them and how you look at things. glass half full not half empty.

thank you pile one! i hope this resonates!! 

Pile 2

hello pile 2! and welcome to your pile

heres confirmation:  burning bridges, coming to an end, breaking negative cycles, “i know how it is”, not trustworthy, being pissed off and arrogant, 555, spiritual connection (soulmates, twin flames, etc), 888,666, snakes

cards: Temperance, the hierophant (r), 10 of wands (r), the lovers

okay wow the first thing i have to say is so many major arcana cards - literally i thought the would ALL be major

this pile seems burnt out in a way (no pun intended based on the pile image) and you need to find a way to light your flame again. dont give up, and dont be scared to ask for help. if you’re struggling with spiritual beliefs/shifting/your journey PLEASE ask for help. dont cry in silence. break free from any cycle you’ve been in. cleanse your energy and the energies around you. break ties with people who aren’t helping you in any way. who are negative in your life. hold your ground and speak what you think and know is right. dont let someone else control and manipulate you in any way. be powerful, because you are. you’re in control.

with temperance and the lovers coming out i feel like this is almost why you’re shifting/what keeps moving you to shift. its moving into your god/goddess energy. being that powerful being you are. being assertive and knowing what is right for you. when you’re shifting/thinking about shifting/making an attempt remember why you started. remember your past self and who you want to be in the future, and who you want to surround yourself with. the people? are they different? know how to control and change the situation if you need it. you got this okay? you’ll see who you want to see and be who you want to be.

thank you pile 2! i hope this resonated

Pile 3

hi pile 3!! literally accidently typed 333 so anyways

confirmation: 333, childhood, hello kitty, red, actions speak louder than words but its more about the effect on you life rather than what they did, water, ocean, 555, penguins

cards: five of wands (r), three of pentacles (r), death (r), the chariot, five of wands

okay first things first we have 3 reversed cards and thats like kinda?? because pile 3, accidently typing 333 and three of pentacles?? but lets move on

you’re moving away from hardships and being stuck in your own head and coming to terms and being at peace with your cr/or. you’re letting go of the things that made it bad and accepting them as memories and just things to hold on to and never let go of. more about the people than what they did.

are your goals not written out pile 3 and your true intentions behind them? or are you just not working to them? you may know your goals and not work to them, are you burnt out? take a break then! take care of yourself. you guys are the stubborn time but you need to listen to me when i say TAKE A BREAK ITS FOR THE BETTER! you may even shift on your break. you need to take a moment and be still because it will actually boost you forwards in the long run. sometime taking breaks helps you move forward. being able to take time and relight your candle. this will lead you to a peaceful and good ending. you can see the shore and you’re about to pull up.

honestly five of wands seems out of place to me, i ask spirit to give me cards in a way thats comprehensive and makes sense with the cards near/around it. it represents rivalry, conflict in a way. maybe spirit is saying on this break fix your relationship with someone, stop fighting and going back and forth. hold your ground, agree to disagree, and let go. also shifting isnt a race or competition, so dont rush it or you can get thrown off course.

thank you pile 3! i hope this resonated

Pile 4

confirmation: water, water signs, oceans, harmony, boobies , feet?? IN WATER??, “the universe must have divined this” - dove cameron’s ‘boyfriend’, bo burnham, “i gotta get out of here”, deities, blue, white, red, AMERICA

cards: two of wands, four of cups, six of swords, three of cups

okay so something i noticed right off the bat is there is a LOT of water i mean even in a card that supposedly represents air signs, shes in a boat in the water. anyways you guys are PLANNING unlike the last pile, you guys have a set out plan, goals, and reasoning. now you have a decision to make, are you going to look to external sources or work with yourself? i was called to get an oracle card bc you guys are different.

I got two cards actually, a time to give rather than take, new moon in virgo and a time for healing balsmic moon. so these cards, surprisingly, are saying the same thing. a change is coming, it may seem like its slow but its coming. i promise, and it will be surprising when it happens.

back again to tarot, because i actually only got to one card(!!) you guys are reevaluating and reflecting, i feel like you have been for a while, thinking and dwelling on the things you can change, have changed, and how far you’ve come (NOT GOODBYE BY BO BURNHAM COMING ON IM DONE walks out door ok im back.. but anyways) stop romanizing everything and look at it in worse case scenario vs best case. the best case was already stated, now look at it as the worst thing that can happen. make that like the fuel for your flame and dont let it hold you back, let it drive you forward. this is where six of swords comes in, you ARE moving forward and you will keep moving forward the more you do. you will heal (ORACLE!!) and you are healing. six of swords can also be interpreted as an escape. maybe shifting is an escape for you?

for the last card, 3 of cups is all about harmony, friendships and community.

i know a lot of people (AND I MEAN A LOT OF PEOPLE) have left the MHA shifting community recently, but keep close to the ones you need/have made an impact on you. maybe they’re leaving/have left but yk what you do? ask around. search and find. it reminds me of a bible verse “ask and you shall gain” or something like that. keep close to those who help you, keep the positive in your life not the negative. keep friends close okay? and talk to them, dont let go.

okay pile 4!! thats it, hope this resonated and you have a great day! also little side note, throughout writing this pick a pile i saw the lovers. so that may be important to some of you. im not putting it in confirmation because if you get this far down that means something for you.

[cactiandtumbleweeds]

Demanding (Mahito x Reader)

I was challenged to write the softest Mahito I could. I might try it against at some other point but for now, enjoy this:

CW: None

~

You felt his weight against your back while waiting in line; arms slithered their way around your front and long hair cascaded over your shoulders, tickled your cheek as it fell. You laughed a little at the unexpectedness and tilted your face to the side.

“I told you it wouldn’t be long until we saw each other again.”

“You’re going to make me look insane,” you whispered, all too aware of the crowd around you – none of them could see the man leaning so heavily against you, nor hear his words.

“Why do you care? It’s not like any of these people matter to you.” Mahito brought his lips close to your ear, fully aware of the gooseflesh he caused. “And would they really be so wrong?”

You shrugged a little with your free arm. “Maybe not. I am taking to myself, after all.”

Sometimes you wondered if it could be all in your imagination – wrapped up in the arms of man nobody but yourself could see. Then again, you’d seen him interact with the world around you and you’d had to remove his hair from the shower drain frequently enough to believe he was, at the very least, real in some way.

A man jostled his way past you, making you wince. Mahito’s grip tightened, pulling you closer into him. “You don’t want to be here. You should just leave – look at how uncomfortable it makes you.”

“I can’t. A friend has work and I owe him one. He loves this idol so much; I have to get him one of those signed poster things. I won’t be long.”

“Well, rather than wait here for ages, you can steal one off somebody leaving.”

You shook your head though the warmth of his voice when he lowered it always managed to pull a smile from your lips. “You’re an awful influence, do you know that?”

He chuckled. “I’m not. Who decides if something is bad or not anyway?”

“Stealing is wrong?”

“Accourding to who?”

“Me.”

He sighed dramatically as though you could actually stop him from doing something. How does one explain the concept of right and wrong to a creature whose entire life spoke of the latter. Something abnormal formed from the hatred pulsing between people.

Yet still a being you allowed to drape himself over your shoulders and whisper awful into your ears with no complaint. Maybe he really had a point about your sanity.

You leaned back against him, trying to make sure you didn’t appear strange as you did so. He played with the hem of your shirt, chilled fingers slipping beneath to the skin there.

“I was busy thinking while you were away,” he hummed. “And I’ve decided what I want to transfigure you into. You would do so well.”

“Really?”

The teasing brush of his fingers turned to a full palm, pressed flush to your hip bone. “Yes. I want to carry you around with me all the time so I’m going shrink you all the way down. Then I’d never have to worry about where you are.”

Your pulse quickened a little at the treat but instead of moving away, you shifted your weight and pushed against his hand. If he’d been human, you would have worried about his circulation. No matter what you did, he never warmed up.

“I think if you wanted to, you would have transfigured me already.”

“What if I only decided that I wanted to do it today? Imagine how all these people would scream when they noticed.”

“Then do it. If you really want to.”

He chuckled and thought about it for a few seconds. Several very drawn-out seconds where you wondered whether or not you trusted the curse enough.

And then he laughed, soft and low in your ear. He released the press against your side and went back to tracing circles over your waist. “Maybe not yet. I want to find a way to keep your pretty face intact first. I like looking at you too much.”

“Well, the best way to do that is leave me in my human form.”

He pressed a small kiss against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “But you’d be so cute, you know. And you’d be even better than any other I’ve ever made.”

“It’s so sad you’ll never get to see me that way then.”

“I could.”

“You won’t.”

It may be arrogant of you but the confidence you’d gained around the curse grew with each passing day. Maybe it would lead to your death eventually but maybe… just maybe it would be worth it in some way.

After all, you couldn’t say Mahito’s company or attentions were unwelcome.

The line continued to move forward and you a step, practically dragging the curse behind you.

“Why are you hanging off me?”

“I want you to carry me.”

“I can’t. Not now at least.”

The man standing in front of you turned slightly, frowning over his shoulder. You made a vague gesture, pretending to tap a non-existent earphone as an explanation. One day, you should buy an actual one to excuse how often you speak to yourself.

It got embarrassing to be stared at.

Mahito sighed dramatically. “How boring.”

“I know. The waiting in line thing is awful which is why I didn’t invite you in the first place. I knew you’d be done after a few seconds.”

“Then let’s just go home and do something more fun. Look, I’ve already got what you needed.”

You turned, confused to see a third appendage wrap around your waist, holding a signed poster before you. Mahito’s pride smile only grew.

“Who did you steal that from?”

“Somebody who’s already long gone. Come on, we can just go back to the house and do something fun.” His eyes danced with excitement and you sighed, unable to deny him anything when he looked up at you from beneath lowered lashes.

“Fine, but it’s still not right.”

“Mm, if you say so.”

[xiaosstepstool]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Genshin Tickle Drabble

X READER EDITION

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hi! It’s me, Océane <3 Today I wrote a quick little Drabble for @danibby, because her fics have always been amazing and I’ve always loved reading them. She’s a total light in my life and I wanted to return the favour, now that I have a blog I feel safe to do so on!

This fic is Aether x Reader, so anyone can read it. It’s mainly Ler!Aether, with a little switching in there at the end, per suggestion. I wrote it VERY quick and proofread even quicker, so if there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes, I’m sorry! I’ll probably find them and fix them later ehe! There’s really no setting, or plot, those are for longer fics! This was just for fluff and tickles <3

For now, enjoy this as is! Thanks to everyone who reads it <3

Without further ado…

AETHER

A/N: This fic is very specifically tickle related. If that’s not your thing, please skip!

Aether found great pleasure in sometimes talking for, well, hours. It was excusable, however, because he associated this habit with the fact he’d really never been alone before. He’d always had Lumine by his side, someone he could talk to for hours because they’d always had a great relationship, and then Paimon. Paimon, his favourite little emergency food, that could talk anyone’s ear off. Even his own!

So really, who could blame him? Well, anyone, who had to put up with him for more than half an hour at a time. But he didn’t mind. He believed his ability to talk forever was a good thing! He knew when to stop when needed… he thought he did.

Maybe he didn’t, though. Because there you were, dazing off into space while he talked about Archon knows what. You thought you were listening, really! How could you possibly not pay attention to the adorable blond beside you? It was just, the more he talked, the more you found your mind drifting off to places that just weren’t there….

What would you have for supper that night?

“Hey? Hey!” Aether seemed to finally catch on to the fact you weren’t present in that moment, and he snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Were you really not listening to me that entire time? That was an awesome story! Now I have to tell it all over again. So, yes-“

“No!” You had to cut him off, for your own sanity. “I was listening! I heard every word, promise. You don’t have to tell the story again. How about we just, go for another walk around Wolvendom?”

Aether hummed. That did sound rather appealing! He just couldn’t shake the feeling you weren’t being honest with him.

“Are you sure you were listening…? How many electro slimes were there?” He watched the colour drain from your face and he clicked his tongue. “I knew you were lying! That’s so mean, y’know that? Honesty is the best quality! You failed at that!”

“Hey! I was being honest!” You tried to defend yourself. “It’s just, I uh, forgot! Do you know how many numbers there are? So many!” You chuckled, thinking you’d saved yourself. “How am I supposed to remember which one you’d said?”

You weren’t safe, however. You couldn’t have seen it coming, that sly little gloved hand that oh-so sneakily snaked behind you, to pinch you on your hip, right below your side. The squeak you let out was delectable, and Aether smirked.

“Do you know what happens to liars?“ He questioned, his sweet voice a purr as he took a step closer to you. Your heart pounded and you could feel it, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“They get let free and never have to talk about this again?”

“Nope!” Then he pounced. “They get tickled!”

You tried to flee, but you tripped over your own feet and ended up in a heap on the ground within seconds. Aether made no effort to help you, his fingers had found their places on your body. Your tummy, your sides, your ribs- wherever he could get them! Whatever made you laugh the hardest, and let out the cutest squeals.

“Aehehehether! I’m sorry!” The pleas fell on deaf ears. Aether seemed to have absolutely no interest in being merciful, which was confirmed when he managed to wiggle those devious fingers under your arms and he finally lingered in a spot. A bad one, at that. He watched tears come to your eyes and still couldn’t be bothered to let up! He was determined to teach you a lesson for lying to him.

Oh, and he was a tease. “You deserve this,” he cooed at you. “Liars get tickled, especially on their worst spots~! Like… right here!” He dug into your armpits, to emphasis his point.

You could only think of one way out of this. Aether might’ve been a ruthless ler, but he left his own tickle spots so out in the open, so exposed! You just had to lift your arms, just a little…

“Oho, making this easier for me, are we?” He chuckled. “I knew you liked this, but wow! I didn’t think you’d- ack! Wahahait!”

Despite the red flush on your cheeks from Aether’s cruel teasing, you’d managed to reach out just enough to claw your fingers over his tummy. That succeeded in getting him to remove his hands from you, as he couldn’t sit still for the life of him, and he just had to swat your hands away. “Noho! You ca-cahahant!”

“Oh yes I can, you little rat!”

And so commenced, the most epic tickle fight that ever existed…

“… it was three electro slimes.”

“Archons, Aether!”

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER

Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader

SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}

"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.

"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.

"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled

Everyone groaned because why???

"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."

'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.

"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.

"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"

"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.

"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.

"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"

'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.

"I wanted to talk about something else."

"O-kay?"

"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"

'Oh there it is.'

"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."

"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.

"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."

"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.

"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.

He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."

"Mm-hmm its true."

"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?

"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.

"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."

"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."

"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."

"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be friends." you resigned.

"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.

"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"

"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"

"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.

"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"

"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.

"Uh, Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked sweetly.

"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.

You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.

It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.

"What?" You groaned into the phone.

"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Food?"

"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.

"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.

"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.

"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.

"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.

As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.

"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.

"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.

"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.

"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.

"What?" You asked innocently.

You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.

"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.

"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.

"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.

"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.

"S-sorry, I've just never-"

"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Paper Planes

A/N: Hey guys!! Here is the first chapter of the fic, “Devil’s Advocate”!!! I’m excited about this, and writing it is getting me through a lot right now, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Here ya go :)

Summary: After a traumatic experience, you are forced back into the field with Neil, but the mission is personal and possibly too close for home for you to handle. Neil helps you through it, but you’re not sure if you can get the job done.

Warnings: Violence, guns, death, drowning, injuries, angst, cursing, and yes, luckily some fluff :)

Word Count: 4,405

The weight of your cold, dark black glock settles heavily into your right hand as you pick it up off the table to your left. You secure a pair of noise cancelling headphones around the top of your head. You load the gun and cock it. 

The headphones blast with music, helping you to concentrate on the man-shaped target in front of you.

Everyone’s a winner, we’re making our fame.

Bonafide hustler making my name.

 You extend your gun out in front of you as you shut your left eye tightly to aim. 

All I wanna do is…

BANG BANG BANG BANG 

And uh, and take your money. 

You lower the gun as the target pushes forward towards you. You can’t help but smile confidently as you look at the deep hole you made in center of the paper man. You reach to take it down, but a warm hand grabs onto your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, freezing you in place.

The hand twists your body slightly, just enough to make you turn around. You reach up to the top of your head and slip your off headphones, letting them rest around your neck. 

A charming, wild grin pulls at Neil’s lips as his gaze meets yours. “That was bloody incredible!” He shouts. There’s a bright flash of excitement in his eyes. His hands gesture towards the hole you made in the wall. You had aimed perfectly, shooting in the exact same spot each time you pulled the trigger. 

“Thanks,” You say back as your cheeks flush with heat despite the boost of confidence rushing through your veins from Neil’s praise. A compliment from Neil means a lot to you, even though you’ve known him for years. He was your closest friend and made sure to tell you the truth, even when it hurt. That honesty grounded you in the chaos of your life. He was a constant, a steadfast star in your sky. 

Neil chuckles a bit as his eyes look down to the headphones hanging around your neck. You don’t hear how loud your music still is. Your mind is too focused on the sound of Neil’s laugh. 

M.I.A Third World Democracy

Yeah I got more records than the KGB

So uh, no funny business!

“A bit loud, isn’t it?” Neil laughs again as he steps closer to you. He brings his hands to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he grabs the headphones and slips them off of you. 

That smile, You think before mentally slapping yourself across the face. Snap the fuck out of it. 

Your feelings for him were always at the back of your throat, clawing for supremacy, climbing up to the tip of your tongue, threatening to force your mouth open to spill your guts. Somehow, even after all these years, you were able to hold back. Maybe it was because you didn’t need more than what you had with him. That was an absolute lie. Maybe it was because he never belonged to anyone else. There was no need to be jealous. Maybe it was because there was a certain, silent promise of belonging to each other despite the lack of an official relationship.

That was more like it. 

Neil puts the headphones back on the table as the next song plays. The absurdly loud riff of the guitar pulls you back into reality. 

Fell in love with a girl,

I fell in love once and I almost completely.

She’s in love with the world

But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading. 

Blushing again, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to press the pause button. The music stops and you smile shyly. A creeping sense of embarrassment crawls into your stomach. You were beyond happy that Neil was able to see you in your element, and usually his presence made you feel good, but his attention was overwhelming at times. Now, the confidence that settled in before had been sucked from your soul and replaced with a racing heart and a cluttered mind. 

You push thoughts of Neil to the back of your head. “So what’s up?” You ask, setting the gun on the table next to your headphones. You casually slip your hands into the pockets of your baggy jeans. You mentally acknowledge that you may be overdoing the whole ‘playing it cool’ thing in front of Neil, possibly even to the point that he might be able to see straight through your act. 

“Well,” Neil pauses. His hand moves to the back of his neck. “I’ve got some news,” Neil says finally, his smirk falling from his lips. Your heart skips a beat. He looks unbelievably nervous. His brows furrow cautiously, knowing his next words are going to achieve some sort of poor reaction from you. 

You gulp anxiously and nod. “W-what is it?” You stutter as you predict the words Neil is about to say. 

I can’t fucking do this, not yet. 

Neil steps closer to you and grabs your hand in his. The touch was familiar but still shocked you to your very core, your nerves tingly frantically under his fingers. 

Please don’t say it, please don’t fucking say it. 

Neil’s voice is quiet in anticipation of your panic. “The boss, he wants you back in the field…” Neil trails off, continuing on about something in London, something about him going with you. You feel your chest tightening. You’re not listening anymore. You’re too focused on what happened last time, too focused on the trauma, too focused on the tears, the shouts, the deaths. 

“NO!” You scream, your long, HDM hung heavily in your hand. The lifeless body of a new recruit crashes to the floor. 

You raise up your arm and cock the gun. You’re ready to aim and shoot, but two large men grab your hands. Your gun falls to the ground with a clatter. 

The man with the dark hair cackles cacophonously. He shakes his head, his piercing emerald eyes dissolving your soul as he picks a new body to hold roughly in his arms. A revolver presses tightly against the person’s head. You can’t tell exactly who it is, as there’s a burlap sack covering their face. There are 8 other people in a semi circle, each appearing the same as the last, tied up in a chair with a burlap sack hiding their identity. 

“What?” He shouted barbarically, his voice echoing against the silver, metal walls of the chamber. “You think your fucking screams can get you out of this?” He grinned maliciously, licking his lips as he cocked the gun. Tears roll down your cheeks. 

You are helpless. 

You are useless.

“(Y/N),” The voice of the person cries out, knowing that their fate is already sealed. It was a woman’s voice, and you felt a bit guilty as you prayed to God that it wasn’t Wheeler.

BANG! 

The lifeless body slumps into the chair. You whimper, stifling a sob in the back of your throat. 

The man with the dark hair moves onto his next victim. You struggle, trying to shake off the two men holding you back. You look around the room, searching for something, anything to get you out of this. 

The man’s face lights up with malignant excitement, sensing that his next kill would hurt you the most. 

Fuck, no no no no no, You think to yourself. You could recognize those stupid, posh little black dress shoes anywhere. You knew the curves of his body, the shape of his hands. Blood dripped down his neck from the cut on his forehead he had gotten earlier. 

Neil.

“Please,” You beg. “Don’t touch him. Just kill me instead.” 

The man with the dark hair only grins more widely now. “Darling,” He snarls. You cringe at his use of the nickname. Neil usually was the one to call you that. “Your begging only makes this more fun for me. In fact, it makes me want to kill you even less, just so you have to live with the image of everyone you care for dying in front of your very eyes for the rest of your life.” His cold words send shivers down your spine. 

He maneuvers differently around Neil, as he grabs the bottom of the burlap sack and removes it from his face. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. You heart feels like it’s being stepped on as it sinks deeply to the bottom of your chest. You can barely breathe now. You huff, trying to keep your sanity, trying to find a way out of this fucking mess. 

“I figured you would want to watch the life drain from his pretty little face, (Y/N),” The man retorts. You shake your head violently. You look left to right, searching for some sort of weakness in the two large men that were keeping you in place. You notice a brace around the knee of the man on your right. 

Thank God for shorts, You think to yourself. 

The man with the dark hair raises the revolver to Neil’s right temple. 

“(Y/N),” Neil mutters. “I l-,”

Before Neil can get his last words out, you raise your right leg, bending it in and snapping it out at the back of the man’s knees, launching him forward. With your right hand now free, you sucker punch the man to your left square in the nose. You round house him in the stomach, sending him backwards. You grab your gun off the floor and aim it back to the man with the dark hair. 

The man chuckles evilly. “You shoot me, and I shoot him. It’s really as simple as that.” Your heart pounds in your chest. 

An idea suddenly dawns upon you. You shift subtly enough so that the man doesn’t catch on to your train of thought. The gun is already cocked, all you need to do is pull the trigger.

BANG! 

“Fuck!” The man cries out, stumbling forwards into the center of the semi circle as he releases Neil from his grasp. His gun falls to the floor. You turn away sharply at the realization that you blew his hand off. 

You run over to Neil first, quickly untying his hands and setting him free. He starts untying everyone else and you walk over the the man with the dark hair. You catch a quick glimpse of Wheeler, and sigh in relief that she’s safe. 

You breathe in hard and part your lips. “Don’t you dare ever fuck with me or my team again,” You pause, kicking the man in your ribs. There’s something extremely personal about your tone.  He grunts in response. “Now tell me where Edgar is keeping the weapons. And tell me where the fuck the lab is, you prick.” 

He chuckles, breathing shallowly. “Prick?” He pronounces the word articulately. “That’s no way to address your uncle.”

“Fucking answer my question ass hat!” You shout, aiming your gun at his head. With another swift kick to the stomach, he curls up in a ball, clutching at his core. You cock your gun again, ready to shoot. Neil rushes to your side, giving you a look that implored you to let him finish before you blew his brains out. 

“F-fine,” He stutters. “It’s in London.” He gives you a set of coordinates, and Neil takes them down. “I suppose I should tell your father that you’re calling him by his first name now, hm?” 

“No, you won’t be getting the chance to,” You say. 

You pull the trigger. 

BANG!

You hear someone in the distance calling your name. 

Two slender, toned arms wrap around your back, resting on your waist as they pull you into an embrace. The smell of Neil’s musky, cinnamon and citrus cologne heightens your senses and brings you back down to Earth. 

Your breathing slows down a good deal as you press your face into Neil’s chest. His right hand comes up to the nape of your neck, and he begins to rake his long fingers through your hair. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Neil whispers in your ear. 

You swallow roughly. “No,” You say without even needing to think. “I’m not ready yet. I can’t leave Headquarters yet. I’m just not ready.” You feel tears begin to swell in your eyes and you bite down on your lip, hoping to keep them at bay. It had only been a month since you had killed your own uncle. He was a piece of shit, but that didn’t make the situation much easier to deal with. 

It had only been a week since you watched two of your friends die. That part may have been the hardest for you to swallow. 

Neil shakes his head and breaks away from you bit, just enough to get a good look at you. “You’re ready, (Y/N).” His voice is calm and reassuring. “And unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. We have to leave for the airport in,” Neil pauses, checking his silver watch, “45 minutes.” 

“W-what?” You gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I just found out a few minutes ago,” Neil admits. “If I knew earlier, I would’ve told you.”

You nod, believing him entirely. “So we’re going to London? To the coordinates?” You ask, looking up into Neil’s ocean eyes. You could feel yourself beginning to drown in them, just as you always were. 

Neil simply nods back. He rests a hand on the center of your chest, feeling your heartbeat quicken with anxiety. “It’s just going to be you and I for a few days, and then everyone else will join when we confront…” He doesn’t same his name. He doesn’t want to make you panic again. But you know exactly who he means. 

Your father. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” Neil’s comforting tone relaxes you a bit. “I won’t leave your side for a second,” He adds. You sigh audibly in relief. 

You let a single tear slide down your cheek. “Thank you,” You whisper. 

Neil pulls you into his chest again. “Anything for you,” Neil responds. You shudder at his words. Sometimes you could swear that he didn’t only see you as his best friend, but something more. 

You let the ideas ruminate and run freely in your mind for a few seconds before shooing them away like pesky little children. 

You take a step back, allowing a small space to fill between the two of you. “I guess I should go pack now.” 

Neil instinctively closes the gap again. You can tell  that he’s worried you’ll break down, and you hate it, but his support feels nice. “Do you want me to go with you? I’ve been told I’m good company.” He grins and sends a wink in your direction.

The corner of your mouth turns up a bit into a half smile, and you let out a small giggle. He always had a way of making you smile, of making you feel good. 

“Nah,” You say, smiling fully now. “I’ll be alright by myself.”

Neil nods and smiles back. “Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby at two o’clock,” Neil says. His smile turns into a smug smirk, and he turns his back to you. His dress shoes tap against the floor as he walks away. 

“Make sure to bring that silk pajama set you wore that time we went undercover in Monte Carlo,” He calls finally, wagging his pointer finger in the air. “I liked it.” 

You felt heat rising in your cheeks at his words. You almost tripped over the completely flat ground as Neil’s chuckle echoed down the hallway. 

————

You clutched the handle of your suitcase in your hands. You let it dangle in front of your legs, nervously bouncing it with your knees every few seconds. Your eyes searched the lobby for a head of fluffy blonde hair, but it was nowhere to be seen. You glance up to the analog clock above the front door. 

1:59. You were early. You were always early, for everything. Being late made you too anxious. You never wanted to miss a beat. 

The clock ticked 45 more times, and you counted each second. Finally, the sound of dress shoes echoed from down the hall. You looked past the reception desk to see Neil carrying a leather duffle bag in his right hand, and a bottle of water in his left. 

He smiled, releasing your butterflies from their cage inside your stomach as he finally reached your side. You open your mouth to say something, but Neil cuts you off.

“Don’t try to tell me I’m late,” Neil remarks sardonically, his eyes drifting off of you and onto the analog clock. “You’re just always early.” His smirk tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but smirk back. 

“I wasn’t going to say you were late!” You playfully smack his arm with your hand. “I was just going to tell you to be earlier next time.” 

Neil grins and shakes his head. He brings his hand up to the small of your back and brushes lightly. Outside the front doors, underneath the awning, a sleek, jet black town car pulls up. You feel your breath hitch in your throat at the realization that it was time.

This was it. 

Neil looks to you. “Are you ready?” His voice is reserved, almost as if he was scared to ask the question in the first place. 

You nod once. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You swallow your fear and let Neil guide you out the doors. He grabs your duffle bag out of your hand, and opens the already popped trunk, carefully placing the luggage inside. You go to open the door, but Neil beats you to it. 

“I can open doors you know,” You say sarcastically, glaring disapprovingly in his direction. 

Neil doesn’t seem to care. “A thank you would be nice, love,” Neil says, shooting a charming smile in your direction. His hand is still holding the door open for you. You step inside the car and look up at Neil. 

“Thank you Neil,” You say mockingly. Neil smiles slyly and closes the door. 

The car ride to the airport is relatively uneventful. Neil gave you the run down. He told you your cover, where you were staying, and the overall gist of the mission. 

“So we’re married?” You ask, making sure you had heard that part of the plan right and hadn’t dreamt it up from a fantasy.

Neil smiles and nods. “We’re newlyweds, traveling the world together one city at a time.”  There’s a whimsy in his voice, almost as if he’s telling a fairytale. You can’t help but chuckle a bit, despite the anxiety growing in your stomach. 

The car turns onto an exit ramp, and suddenly the airport is in plain sight. You shiver a bit, feeling the air around you growing colder and colder. You check the temperature gauge at the front of the car, and notice that he hasn’t changed at all. You wrap your arms around your chest, rubbing up and down along your body, hoping to warm up. 

Neil’s smile fades away as he furrows his brows in concern. He wraps his right arm around your shoulders. You jump at the sudden warmth. 

“Are you alright?” He asks as he brings his other arm up to wrap around you completely. 

Your anxiety is begging you to tell him no. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” You lie. Neil doesn’t buy it, and rightfully so. 

Neil squeezes you tightly. “I know you’re not okay, you don’t need to lie to me,” He whispers. “I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your eyes begin to well up, and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Alright,” You sigh, wiping the tear away. You sniffle a bit, trying to clear your head in the process. The car rolls to a stop. “I’m ready whenever you are,” You say, trying to seem more confident than you actually were. 

You open the door and slip out. The chaos of the outside of the airport takes you aback, despite the fact you had been in an airport millions of times before. Neil steps out behind you, and goes over to the trunk. He takes the luggage out and steps towards to you. You stare up at the massive building, petrified to enter. 

Neil ticks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “There’s not much time, (Y/N). We have to go inside now,” He says, his gaze staring into the side of your head. You refuse to meet his eyes, you’re too focused on the building, the mission, the future. 

After a few seconds, you nod to Neil and walk into the airport. You and Neil only have one duffle bag each, and thus you could skip checking in any bags. He guides you over to security, which happened to be a breeze. 

A short walk later, you approach the gate. There was a line of people waiting to enter, and you and Neil shuffled to the back of it. A few minutes later, a nice steward scanned your ticket. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, you’ll be in row 2, seats A and B. Have a nice flight,” He smiles, and gestures for you to enter the bridge to the plane. 

Your heartbeat quickens as you take small steps. “N-Neil,” You stutter as you reach to center of the bridge. “I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. I mean it. I-I’m sorry I just can’t.” Panic is heavy in your voice. It feels as though the walls are closing in on you. 

Neil puts the luggage down and brings you to the side of the bridge. He pushes strands of your hair out of your eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” Neil reassures. “You can do this. I’m said I’m not going anywhere, and I meant that.” 

Neil picks the luggage back up, and guides you through the entrance of the plane and to your seat. You hesitantly sit down, quickly placing your hand on the armrest, wondering if there’s still time for you to run out of the door and back to headquarters. To your dismay, you watch the doors of the plane begin to shut. Neil wasn’t kidding before when he said there wasn’t much time. 

He stores the luggage in the overhead compartment, and takes his place next to you. He notices that you’re still shaking, and he places his hand on top of yours and brushes your skin lightly with his thumb. 

A comfortable silence rests gently between you and Neil as his hand remains on top of yours. Sometimes words aren’t necessary. You can get the idea of what someone means by their actions alone.

A few moments later, the captain makes an announcement, followed by a series of other voices sharing information. You're too wrapped up in your thoughts to pay attention to anything they have to say. Before you know it, the plane begins to move down the tarmac. It gains speed, and suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted in the air.

You shiver again, the anxiety becoming too much to handle. You try to ease into your seat in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail. You’re petrified and uncomfortable, a terrible duo of emotions to be faced with simultaneously.

Suddenly, you feel Neil’s warm hand leave yours. You watch in confusion as he lifts the armrest up, tucking it in between the seats. He lifts his arm, and wraps it around your shoulder, just like he had done in the car, and so many countless times before. You accept the invitation willingly, and snuggle into his side. 

Minutes later, you’re fast asleep in Neil’s arms. 

———

An evil chuckle echoes against the concrete and spreads down to the grassy beach below. “There’s no saving him now, (Y/N)!” A man shouts from the top of an overpass. 

You look down and watch as a familiar figure waves their arms frantically underwater, trying to swim up to the surface, but they can’t. There’s a brick tied around each of their angles. Their dirty blonde hair floats freely in the water as they continue to sink to the bottom.

“N-Neil!” You shout, trying to step forward to dive in after him. But your stuck, tied against a chair, guarded by two large men. “Please, please stop this!”

The man laughs, ignoring your pleas. “This is what you get, (Y/N). You’re worthless, and you fucking know it. Don’t you ever forget it, darling.” 

You shake side to side. The chair tumbles over and you fall into the dark, black, cold water. Your nerves are shot by the shock of the frigidness, and you can’t move. 

“Neil!” You gargle, left to watch as he sinks to the bottom of the lake. “Neil!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Neil!”

“(Y/N)?” 

Your eyes shoot open and you practically jump out of your seat. Your seatbelt pushes you down, keeping held tightly. You’re trembling. You can’t breathe at all. 

“(Y/N),” Neil repeats. “It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.” He wraps his arms around you, bringing you tightly into his chest. 

You bury your face into his white shirt, sobbing softly. His right hand reaches up to the nape of your neck, his fingers gently combing through your hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” Neil whispers, his voice filled with kindness. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” 

You whimper into his chest as pain explodes in your heart. “What am I going to do?” You mutter. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Neil says, his kind tone persisting in each word he utters. “I’ve got you, it’ll be okay.”

It needed to be okay. You needed to be okay. You couldn’t risk any fuck ups, not this time. This was real. This was life or death. 

This was the end of the world. 

Or at least it could be. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him for what he’s done to you,” Neil states, the kindness in his voice is replaced with anger and frustration. “I’m going to kill Edgar, I swear.” 

You shake your head against his chest. “No…

“Leave that part up to me.”

>>> Chapter 2

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Long Nights - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: Praise you

(see chapter 1)

summary: you found tremendous joy in coming up with new ways to make the lockpicking sessions challenging. And entertaining. 

...even if the last part was mostly a one-sided thing.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, teasing, implied smut I guess? oh, and of course - ✨hand content✨

author’s note: Took me a while, but it was fun to write! Didn’t expect it to get this long, but here we are - over 4,2k words of shameless hand content

The song for this chapter is Fatboy Slim - Praise you

Anyway, enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @vaneilla @gallifreyan-uprising​ @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway​ @truly-insatiable​ (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

-----

You cracked it.

It took you a good while, though. A whole sleepless night, even.

And half of the morning after that.

But maybe the absolute exhaustion was the key, pun intended.

At first, it boggled your mind so much that you were dangerously close to using brute force just to examine that lock. You tried every technique that you could think of - to no effect. It wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. The mechanism wasn’t responding as usual, it was more like a thing from goddamn Upside Down, or however the fuck that was called.

It became a matter of pride.

The sun had risen over an hour ago and the sunlight was pouring through the gaps in the blinds. Grasping at the last strands of sanity, you decided to take a break. You put on your headphones and danced around your apartment to the sounds of a song with that one bloody line that somehow seemed fitting for this madness.

Is it worth it? Let me work it, I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it

Because it felt exactly like that was what had happened to it. And no amount of cursing and switching tools would help in the face of glitched reality.

And when you sat down at your desk again, with your head so empty that your last brain cell was amusing itself by yodeling and listening to an echo, you bound the first pin. The sound was so distorted it almost startled you. The last thing you needed right then was to break the hook inside the keyway, so you leveled your breath and continued, even though your fingers cramped painfully. That wasn’t enough to stop you. Not as you finally got proof that the task was actually within your reach. 

With every click like a backwards version of the sound you knew so well, the next pins got set quicker and smoother. And when you opened the lock, you couldn’t help the cheerful scream that escaped your mouth.

“Fuck yes!” You punched the air, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the biggest grin lighting up your face.

That’s when you knew there was no way you were going to sleep anytime soon. Besides, you still didn’t know how you managed to convince that device to cooperate. You had to prove to yourself that it wasn’t dumb luck, and should you ever come upon a bloody nightmare like that, you’d be able to use the experience to crack it open. Because of that, you spent the next couple of hours reverse-picking it (which turned out to be another level of bonkers) to lock the damn thing, only to open it back again. And again. And then three times more. When you got comfortable with the process, your eyes were burning, your fingers stiff and trembling, but the immense satisfaction was worth every bit of it.

You were about to crash on the bed as your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the incoming message.

//did you pick it?

At first, you assumed you got it from Mahir, but as you were typing in a long rant, you realized that there was no history of the previous conversations on the screen, so you checked the sender again.

Neil.

Huh.

You’d exchanged the numbers the day before, but you didn’t expect to hear from him until they got everything ready to start the lessons. Oh well. You snapped the picture of the open lock and sent it back, adding a short message.

          //that was fun, hope you have more of them

As you faceplanted on the bed, the phone buzzed with a reply.

//N: you bet

You couldn’t wait to get all the answers about how they managed to manufacture the most bizarre and mind-bending thing you’d ever seen, but there was no point in asking those questions over the phone. Plus, you really needed to get some rest.

          //awesome! now excuse me, imma get some Zs - let me know when you  guys are ready to start

After a second, you typed in another text.

          //ps. how’s your nose?

//N: will do, sleep well!

//N: as for my nose...let’s say I’m glad it wasn’t the straightest one in the first place

That cheeky bastard.

          //hey, don’t try to guilt-trip me, i’m trying to sleep

You almost drifted off, but you couldn’t resist checking that last notification.

//N: ...I wouldn’t dare

Snorting, you rolled to the side.

Then you fell asleep, dreaming of the impossible locks.

-------

It took them another day to prepare all the stuff, and after several further messages you got a date and location.

The building looked like a contemporary tenement house, definitely standing out from two older ones at its sides. You always assumed it belonged to one of those fancy start-ups, but apparently it was some sort of temporary headquarters of your new associates.

It didn’t surprise you that you weren’t given a tour of the place, you assumed you needed to have some sort of clearance to walk freely through the area. For now, you were restricted to the ground floor, or rather to the lobby and your classroom - a rather cozy space, but equipped with everything you needed to begin.

Neil turned out to be a fast learner, at least when it came to covering the theoretical side of lockpicking. You walked him through the basics, but you couldn’t help the itch in the back of your brain. After the encounter with the preposterous lock, your mind started to question everything that used to be unshakeable.

And of course you asked Neil about that bloody device as soon as you saw him, but he just smiled lightly and said that The Protagonist insisted on telling you all that himself when the time was right. So you had nothing left to do but to continue with the lessons, hoping that you the man himself would decide to grace you with his presence sooner than later.

You propped the chin on your hand and watched as Neil grabbed the tools. Your gaze wandered over his outrageously long fingers as he gave the lock a try, but apparently, the most idiotic grin on your face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, eyes up here,” snorted Neil, and you looked at him just to meet his amused face. He caught you shamelessly staring, and there was no point in denying it.

Trying to salvage your mental coherence, you choked out, “Dude, your hands are--”

“What?” he asked, tilting his head.

“...huge,” you finished, the wide smile not leaving even for a second. You bit your lip and glanced back at Neil. “Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna stare for a bit longer.”

A hint of a blush crept upon his cheeks. My, oh my. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat and proceeded to bind the first pin, pressing his mouth into a thin line in an attempt to keep a composed demeanor. The sparkles in his gaze were quite telling, though.

The sight was utterly adorable, but more importantly, it planted a rather gut-busting idea into your head.

You stifled a giggle.

All in due time.

____

One of the perks of the location was a small cafe on the other side of the street.

Neil took you there on your second day during a break, walking in with a confidence of a true regular. He knew the staff by name and vice-versa, so it didn’t surprise you as he charmed his way through the conversation.

“I’ve got this,” he said, raising a hand to stop you before you could place your order. “One black coffee and one--...” he hesitated, still preventing you from chiming in. You crossed your arms and watched as his forehead creased, the confidence leaving him with every second passed. He narrowed his eyes, and you could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.

Whatever he was doing, or trying to do, it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Iced mocha for me, please,” you said, wondering which one of you had a more puzzled expression. “Cat got your tongue?”

Neil shook his head.

“No, it’s just…” - he let out a small sigh - “I can’t read you.”

“Good,” you snorted. “Why would you want to, anyway?”

The young barista smiled, putting the first coffee on the counter.

“Oh, your colleague here has a thing.”

“Oh?” You arched a brow. “Do tell!”

“It’s nothing,” said Neil, cringing slightly, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the enthusiastic answer from spilling from the barista.

“He likes to guess the orders of his companions, but this is prolly the first time I ever saw him freeze like that. Can’t wait to tell Doris!”

Neil groaned, avoiding your amused stare. “Spare me, Max.”

“Aww, man, I’m honored to be your first!” you teased, nudging his arm lightly and snickering at the absolutely done face he gave you in return.

That cafe quickly became your place of choice during breaks, but sometimes, if the weather was nice enough, you ordered to-go, just to spend that bit of free time between lockpicking sessions sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a bank of the river. You chatted about everything and nothing in particular, or simply sat in silence, enjoying the ambiance, beverages, and each other’s company.

The last thing took you by surprise, in a way. You’d expected those brief moments of a break during the day to be your sacred moments of solitude, the usual necessity to avoid getting too cranky around people. As Neil joined you on that second day, you found out that his presence was not bothering you, or at least your social batteries weren’t being drained in their regular manner. Sure, it probably helped that he was incredibly easy on the eyes, but a real treat were those moments when you ventured onto a territory he felt strongly about. In a wink, he was ready to drop his typical composure just to go straight into bubbly rants, gesturing wildly, the blue irises lit by the fire that he most often kept under wraps.

There was nothing more boring than people who lacked passion.

Lucky for you, that was not the case with Neil.

Moreover, he made you laugh.

A dangerous combination.

Alluring, even.

Good thing that you were not one to become smitten that easily.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun, though.

--------

“You need to listen to what the lock has to say,” you prompted, pacing through the room and watching as Neil struggled with a new type of mechanism. “It’s all about feedback.”

He pulled out the tools and rubbed his face, trying to hide the first hints of frustration.

“What if we apply heavier tension to amplify it?” he said and glared at the lock as if it was taunting him from its place on the practice stand.

“Sure, “ - you leaned over the table to rest the chin on your laced fingers - “but can you think of any reasons not to do that, my dear Physics Boy?”

“The higher possibility of breaking tools?”

“Precisely,” you said as you snapped and pointed your fingers. ”Also, you risk binding the pins too tightly and you wouldn’t want that, either.”

Neil sighed and slumped his shoulders.

“So...patience, then?”

“Yes,” you beamed. “It really comes down to one thing - you have to feel it.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “I’ve heard it before,” he said, shifting in his seat.

You shrugged, eyeing him curiously.  

“Maybe because that’s one universally useful advice?”

“Would help if I understood it, too.” He gave you a weak smile, but his expression told you he wasn’t convinced.

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Listen, I can smarten it up for you, but let me just show you what I mean.” You grabbed the second pair of tools from the table and placed them inside the keyway, but as soon as you opened your mouth to provide some follow-up instructions, you got struck by a better idea. Your eyes flared up. “Okay, know what? I’m just gonna-- if you could scoot back a bit--...” you said, shuffling in his direction. Neil’s brows snapped together in consternation, but he moved back. Without further ado, you sat down in front of him, nestling yourself between his spread legs on the edge of the chair, and let out a content sigh. “Should be easier now. Put your hands on mine.“

Neil tensed, and you could swear you heard him swallowing hard behind your back. He followed your suggestion, wrapping his arms around you and placing his hands on top of yours.  

“Now, lay your fingers on the tools just above mine,” you continued as you slid your digits back to make more room for him. “Great, try not to press them and focus. Close your eyes, if you want.” As you gently moved the tools, you couldn’t resist but to add, “You can breathe though, you know?”

“Blimey.”

You giggled at the sarcastic bit in his tone and drew a long breath, hoping that Neil would follow it, and focused back on the lock. Purposefully slowing down your movements to allow him to feel how the mechanism responded to your ministrations, you kept sliding the hook back and forth the keyway, setting pin after pin. Neil relaxed after a moment, his shallow breath ghosting over your shoulder got deeper and more steady. His palms rested heavier on your hands, and you marveled at their size again, nibbling on your bottom lip. With all your senses sharpened, you stole a brief moment of self-indulgence, closing your eyes and relishing in the warmth radiating from Neil, the way it enveloped you, carrying a scent of his cologne - airy citrus undertones mixed with hints of powdery musk, a fresh and unostentatious combination you found fitting him so well.

The final click, more pressure and voilà - the lock was open.

“Did you feel it?” you asked softly, weirdly unwilling to move, hoping to linger in the position for a little while longer.  

“Yes,” said Neil, and his husky voice made you turn your head to look at him. As he pulled his hands back somewhat hesitantly, you noticed his dazed expression and slightly flushed cheeks.

“Good,” you chirped, grinning, then reached out over your shoulder and lightly booped his nose, enjoying probably a bit too much the way his eyes widened. “Your turn.”

-----

Days. Weeks. Or was it months, plural?

You lost track of how much time had passed since that morning in the Old Town district.

The progress was counted by the number of models you introduced to Neil, showing him all the tricks you’d learned over the years. You still waited for the meeting with The Protagonist, although, ever since your student spilled a little too much information during one of his enthusiastic rants at the breaks (seriously, how could a person that bad at keeping secrets survive so long in any sort of spying business was beyond you), your initial curiosity itch had been scratched, and you were now in that blessed moment before it got unbearable again and demanded taking further actions.

It also helped that you found tremendous joy in coming up with new ways to make the lockpicking sessions challenging. And entertaining. Even if the last part was mostly a one-sided thing.

Neil was clearly feeling confident that evening. He really started to get a hang of this, and you loved watching him like that - fully focused, blonde strands falling to the eyes, with the tip of the tongue poking out...

It would be a shame if someone was to test his level of concentration.

“You know, I spend so much time looking at your hands that they recently started making cameos in my dreams.”

The blue eyes darted at you from under raised brows.

“Is that so?" asked Neil, switching his attention to the lock again.

“Yep. Mind you, most of those dreams are rather uneventful.” You pouted, sliding from your place on the windowsill. “Still waiting for one that is not so boringly PG-13.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed with effort.

...warmer...

Circling the table, you stopped behind Neil’s chair.

"I’m just saying,” - leaning over, you purred right into his ear - ”that such long fingers like yours can give a girl all sorts of ideas--"

Snap.

You bit back a satisfied smile and smacked your tongue. “Those were perfectly fine tools, you know.”

Neil turned in his seat and gaped at you.

“Why are you like this?” he complained, helpless and flustered.

You shrugged. “I thought it was a high time for a little stress test. Might come in handy later.” Snickering at his puzzled face, you added, “What? You’re not exactly in a stress-free line of work.”

He shook the head lightly and scoffed. “... yeah, I see your point,” he said, a corner of his mouth curling into a half-smile. “But I don’t think there’s a high risk of someone trying to seduce me in the field.”

“Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” you asked, arching a brow, your tone nothing but serious.

“I-...”

The panicked look on his face as he blinked rapidly was more than enough to break your deadpan façade.

“Oh man, I’m just pulling your leg. You should’ve seen your face though.” Giggling, you grabbed a fresh lock from a shelf and tossed it to Neil. He sighed and replaced the messed-up device. “Besides,” you continued, “if there is one thing that the espionage movies have taught me, it’s that the spy always has plenty of beautiful creatures willing to keep his bed warm.”

The playful sparks appeared in Neil’s eyes.

“Is this a very elaborate way of asking me if I’m seeing someone or are you volunteering?”

Well, well, well.

“What if it’s both?”

“Then the first answer is no. As for the second one--” he hesitated, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. “...a follow-up question - is it a good idea?”

You tilted your head, sitting down on the edge of the table in front of him.

“Why?”

“What if it’s gonna make things… I don’t know, weird?”

You gestured vaguely. “Can’t get any weirder than all your timey-wimey, inverted entropy bullshit.”

“That’s not exactly--”

“I know what you meant,” you sighed and met his darkened gaze, a shade of smile tainting your lips. “And yet, you’re trying to appeal to my reason while looking at me like that.” You left your seat and grabbed your backpack. “It’s getting late. Finish with this one and get some rest.”

Then you left, not waiting for a reply.

It was one of the warm nights and you decided to take a walk. A promenade near the river was not as crowded as you expected, making your journey home way more enjoyable. With your favourite tunes seeping through the headphones, you took in the view, the city lights reflecting in the water only added to the ambiance.

The phone buzzed in your pocket.

//N: I can’t believe you left like that

You chuckled, texting him back.

          //why, you had any plans?

The answer came almost instantly.

//N: maybe

He was adorable. But--

          //have you finished with the lock?

//N: …no    

//N: wait are you gonna use our conversation as some sort of motivational tool now

Even if you weren’t, after getting a message like that?

You just had to.

          //maybe?

//N: jesus

          //sex is but a great metaphorical carrot. besides - it’s all about that delayed gratification and whatnot

A moment of silence.

And then:

//N: you’re evil.

That spiteful period at the end got you snickering loudly, earning you some curious looks.

A huge grin lit up your face.

          //gn <3

-----

You must admit, that game was quite exciting.

And Neil was getting better at it, and soon implying became no longer enough to make him lose his focus.

At first, it was relatively easy to prompt a blush or a slight tremble of a hand. But with every next attempt, he grew more and more resilient, and soon, the only indication that he heard you was the fire burning in his eyes.

Then you got really mean, throwing some ambitious tasks in front of him, tricky locks and complex mechanisms, as your teasing got more straightforward.

And descriptive.

It became hard to shake it off once you left the training room. The lingering looks. The accidental touches. The atmosphere, almost electric. In other words - the heat sink was ready to be popped, and it was no longer a matter of if, but more of when.

“4 minutes.”

Neil barely nodded, lips pressed together and brows knitted in concentration.

3 locks in 15 minutes. Difficult, but doable, considering his current level of skill. Too bad he’d slacked at the second one, not leaving too much time for the final push. Sure, you didn’t go easy on him along the way, but the real challenge was supposed to be a race against the clock, so now you just watched him with bated breath.

Click.

You checked the time.

“45 seconds”

“Goddamnit!” he uttered through gritted teeth, readjusting cramping fingers on the tools.

“Come on, you’ve got this,” you said, taking a step closer.

Another click.

He didn’t know that there was only one pin left to set. You did, that’s why you tried your best not to reveal it with your expression. Too early to celebrate, anyway.

“Nine... eight… seven… six… five…”

That’s when you heard a final click and you looked up from your phone, only to see the lock giving in and opening up.

“Yeah!” Neil cheered, banging a fist on the table and tossing the tools away.

You smiled, hiding the phone in the pocket. “Good job, I knew--” but before you could finish a sentence, Neil sprung up from his chair and closed the gap between you, then cupped your face with his palms and kissed you hungrily.

You froze for a second, but as your mind caught up, you kissed him back, tugging at the light blue shirt. He smiled against your lips and made you back away until you hit the wall, huffing at the sudden coldness of the surface. But he was bent on kissing you senseless until you both ended up gasping for air.

“You’re so paying for all that teasing,” he panted, running the tip of the tongue through his swollen lips. “Not to mention, you’ve given me a few fascinating ideas, and I’m very much willing to give them all a try.”

You grinned, fighting with your evidently short-circuiting brain for a grasp of coherence as his hands traveled down your body.

“My, my, all of them?”

“The night is young,” - his throaty chuckle sent a wave of heat through your body - “and I’m up for a challenge.”

“I’m counting on it,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his hair, and pulling him into a kiss again.

Actually, the challenge started right away, and that meant getting to Neil’s place, as the company conveniently rented him a room in a nearby hotel. Walking distance, but in your current quite heated state, every distance seemed way too long. Especially when you had to keep up appearances.

At least until the elevator’s door closed behind you.

The dark gaze fixed on you. Your breaths intertwining. His bottom lip between your teeth. The five o’clock shadow under your fingertips. Your hands sliding under his shirt. His knee parting your legs. The intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your quiet moan. His tongue slipping into your mouth--

A quiet sound announced you reached your floor, and you stumbled out into the corridor, giggling, unable to keep hands and lips off each other.

Your back hit the door, barely missing the knob. Without skipping a beat, Neil reached to the pocket of his pants, then into the other one. When he tried the third one, you broke the kiss, your expression nothing but innocent.

“Looking for this?” you asked, showing him a key card.

He furrowed his brows. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know how--...” he started, but when he tried to snatch his property, you hid your hand behind your back. His jaw went slack as it dawned on him and he stared at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He groaned.

“You’re unbelievable,” he uttered as he pulled out his wallet. “Credit card?”

“Only if you’re not overly attached to it.” The roguish lights danced in your gaze. “Especially when you’re in a hurry,” you hinted, palming over the bulge in his pants. Neil squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a moan, and you stifled a chuckle. “Try any membership card.”

He glared at you. “You’re so in for it, you have no idea.”

“Promises, promises,” you pouted, trying not to burst into laughter at his wounded expression. “Work it.”

“Gladly, just tell me what to do.”

So you walked him through the process.

Fortunately, Neil really was a fast learner, making the door give way in no time.

“Good boy,” you hummed, and the blue eyes flared up.

He crashed his lips on yours, closing the door behind you.

Then he gave you a taste of what was coming for you.

And then some more.

And then…

...he gave you all.

(next chapter ->)

[creepypocky]

Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

[gay-otlc]

To Love Unafraid (With An Ugly, Poisonous Heart)

Summary: Fintan was silent for a long time. Then he nodded and said, "The life of a pyrokinetic is a lonely one. It's hard to get close to people. When you do, it's too easy to hurt them. It's best to just isolate yourself from the good parts of society. If the council doesn't lock you up, you lock yourself up. I'm sorry you had to manifest this curse. I'm sorry you're turning into a monster like me."

(Or, Marella has OCD, and her intrusive thoughts feature hurting Biana.)

Word count: 3374

Content warnings: Wow, this is gonna be a long list. Um. Intrusive thoughts and depictions of OCD is the main one. Severe guilt and self loathing. Cursing. Fire and (imagined) death/murder. Mentions of suicidal thoughts and self harm. Generally disturbing. And yes, I did warn you that this would be fucked up.

Written for Marelliana week. Would probably fit under day two (nightmares) but also a free day. Whatever. It's all Marelliana. @marelliana-week

Read on AO3

Every time Marella looked into Biana's eyes a little too long, she thought she would catch on fire.

It wasn't her fault Biana was so... Biana. Were there really any words for how wonderful ae was? Beautiful, one could say, but that would barely cover it. Yes, Biana was so fucking beautiful, so beautiful it was unfair, with mahogany skin and a wide smile and stiff, dark hair with streaks of lavender. Marella had never been especially poetic, but she wanted to color Biana with adjectives and metaphors until the page reflected even a tenth of aer beauty.

She couldn't write that beautifully, though. She could only watch aer and think that if she could freeze time right then, she would be happy forever.

"You're staring again," Biana said, a hint of a laugh in aer voice.

"Sorry! You're just... you're just really pretty."

Ae looked down, cheeks turning pink. Sheepishly, ae scratched the back of aer neck. "Aww. Thanks. You're the sweetest."

Biana's lips are the sweetest. They'd only kissed a few times, and before then, Marella had thought nothing could taste better challah. She'd been proven wrong. At the thought, she noticed she'd been staring specifically at Biana's pink lips. She blushed harder, looking away. Until warm skin touched her hand, and wrapped fingers around hers. Marella looked back, surprised. Biana chuckled quietly, the prettiest smile on aer face. Marella brushed her thumb over aer knuckles, wondering how the hell she'd gotten so lucky as to date the princaess next to her.

And then the princaess burst into flames. Ae was a girl on fire, stunning. Ae looked like a phoenix, a mythical creature even for the elves. But aer face didn't look triumphant or majestic or beautiful. Just scared. And sad. Aer skin turned charred, angry red burns blistering across aer face. The girl Marella loved crumpled into ashes.

She blinked. Biana was back, alive, not on fire, beautiful as ever. But Marella couldn't appreciate aer beauty nearly as much, because the image of Biana burning was seared into her mind.

Do it. Do it. Burn aer. You know you want to.

Marella ripped her hand out of Biana's.

"Love? You alright?"

Deep breaths forced their way out of Marella's lungs. She clenched her fists so hard her nails painfully dug into her palms. "Yeah," she choked. "Don't feel well."

"Oh." Biana gave her a sympathetic look, and she squeezed her fists tighter. She didn't deserve Biana's sympathy. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

Let aer stay. Talk to aer. Don't push aer away.

"No," she replied forcefully; half a scream, half a sob. Hurt flashed across Biana's face, and Marella somehow felt even guiltier. If she could snap at aer like that, what would stopping her from getting just angry enough to really snap and... well... see the scared, sad, girl on fire once again. She took a deep breath, feeling tears rise to her eyes. She looked away. "No, I think I'm just going to lie down. Thanks, though."

"Okay." Biana still looked worried. If she could have, she would have comforted aer. But she didn't know exactly how to explain I'm not sick, I don't have some life threatening disease, I'm just getting horrible visions of murdering you and I'd prefer not to let those visions become reality, because I couldn't stand to lose you, and I don't think I could be responsible for that without burning away my ugly heart and soul as well.

Once Biana tore aer gaze away from the mess that ae had the misfortune to love, and light leaped away, Marella let herself crumble. She didn't even wait to get up to her room and hide under her blankets. Just let her knees collapse as she sank to the grassy yard in front of her house. Her shoulders shook with sobs. It felt like she would explode with anger and guilt and fear, and if she wasn't careful, the fire that exploded out of her would burn everything else in her life as well. All the things she cared about.

(Biana Vacker.)

She'd had thoughts like this before. Attacking people she was close to. Usually physically, but sometimes verbally. Still, that was all before she manifested. The worst she had ever thought about doing to anyone would have left a few bruises. Not like this.

Not a pile of ashes where a girl used to be.

When she was a kid, she'd been confident that her mother's accident was her fault, that she was the one to push Caprise Redek. She needed constant reassurance that she had been in a completely different room of the house at the time, that she couldn't possibly be responsible. Her dad thought it was a grief response, the guilt, the nightmares with false memories.

It could have been, if it was just a one off. But lately, Marella had begun to think there was some sort of monster living in her brain, whispering these horrible thoughts. Trying to convince her to carry out its wicked instructions. She would beat her head trying to force it out.

That didn't work, of course. And ever since Marella manifested, it felt like the monster was on fire. Bigger. More powerful. The monster was just an entity of flames, wanting to burn anything and everything that had the misfortune to be in Marella's path.

Sometimes Marella thought she was the monster.

And monsters didn't deserve to collapse on the front lawn crying, mourning the girl she used to be, who wasn't a danger to everyone around her. The girl she could have been, if she was just a little less twisted.

Glaring, jaw clenched, she stood up and swiped an arm across her face. She screamed as loudly as she could, trying to force the monster and the fire and all the poison out of her. Then she took a deep breath. She needed to talk to someone about this, because the secret, or the monster, or both, would eat her from the inside if she didn't let some of it out. Obviously, she couldn't tell Biana. Nor her dad- he didn't need to be more worried about her than he already was. Nor any of her friends, they had a hard enough time trusting her already.

Marella needed advice from someone who was just as dark and twisted as she was, so she could escape all the judgement. Someone who knew about monsters. And fire.

She needed advice from Fintan.

Reluctantly, she took out the leaping crystal that directed her to her much-dreaded training sessions with Fintan. Once the world materialized around her, she shivered. I'm never going to get used to the cold here.

Maybe it'll freeze out the monster.

Don't be ridiculous. The monster will never leave. The monster is you. The monster won't die unless you die.

Then maybe it would be best if-

"Marella?" Fintan's raspy voice said, interrupting Marella's spiral of thoughts swirling down the drain, slowly disappearing just like any goodness, or sanity, she had. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Marella swallowed. "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"What about your girlfriend's house?" Fintan asked, smirking a little. Marella really hadn't done a very good job of hiding that.

"I can't go to her. I'm too dangerous to be around her. If she's too close to me, she'll get hurt."

"Because you're a pyrokinetic?"

"Because I'm a monster."

"Please. If you were a 'monster', you wouldn't resist every time I suggested you join the Neverseen. You're disgustingly concerned with morals."

The words spilled out before Marella could stop them. "I'm also disgustingly obsessed with burning the love of my life to a pile of ashes!" Fintan stayed silent, and for a heartbeat, Marella thought, This is it. She was such a monster she even horrified Fintan. But her mouth kept talking, and her heart kept bleeding. "There's a monster in my head, that tells me to do really horrible things, like- like kill Biana, set her on fire until she can't survive me, and the more it goes on, the more I realize I'm the monster, it's my own actions. The monster tells me I want to do those things, and why would I think it if I didn't want to carry it out?"

"Do you want to hurt Biana?" Fintan asked, his voice calm and collected as ever. What a dickhead.

"I don't know!" Marella screamed, spinning around to punch the wall. Her knuckles split apart, droplets of blood appearing on them. "Part of me, part of me loves her more than anything else, can't stand to see her in even the least bit of pain. And the other part wants her to burn. And I don't know which part is real, or how to stop the second part. All I know is I can't be around her. I'm too dangerous."

Fintan was silent for a long time. Then he nodded and said, "The life of a pyrokinetic is a lonely one. It's hard to get close to people. When you do, it's too easy to hurt them. It's best to just isolate yourself from the good parts of society. If the council doesn't lock you up, you lock yourself up. I'm sorry you had to manifest this curse. I'm sorry you're turning into a monster like me."

"I'm sorry too," said Marella, not quite knowing what she was apologizing for. And then she ran.

Where was she running to? She didn't know that. Just... away.

When she finally had to take a breath to catch her breath, calves burning and lungs aching, it finally occurred to her. Where the pyrokinetic monsters had to go. The only place in the world that the world could possibly be safe from her. She'd considered the Forbidden Cities, midway through her run, so she wouldn't hurt anyone she knew and cared about... but she could kill humans, and that was still monstrous. Same with any cities for the other intelligent species. If she was around people- any people- they'd be in danger.

Exile. She had to go to Exile. A place meant to keep the rest of the world safe from her.

But how the fuck do I get there?

Marella screamed. No one was allowed to hear her. She screamed, because she was so damn close to keeping everyone she loved safe, and at this last step she couldn't make it. How the fuck did she get to Exile? Did she turn herself in to the Council, have a tribunal? Would they lock her up? They fucking should. The Council had thrown innocent elves into Exile, they wouldn't mind banishing a Pyrokinetic with a fucked up brain.

To Eternalia, she supposed, since she didn't have many other options.

She leaped there, starting heading towards the Councillor's castle, barely able to focus on anything around her other than the screaming in her head and the thunderous beating of her ugly, poisoned heart. Which is how she didn't notice that there was a person right in her path... and how she managed to bump into them.

Aer.

Biana.

"Hey, watch where- Marella? Love? Are you alright?"

Just her luck, the person she needed to stay away from. "What are you doing here?" Marella blurted, before she could really think about it. It sounded harsh, and she saw the hurt flash across Biana's face.

Ae recovered quickly. "I was getting some work done for Team Valiant, since we weren't together; it's too hard to do it around you, your pretty face always distracts me." Under aer breath, ae mumbled something that sounded like Biana, you disastaer queer.

Normally, Marella was happy to laugh about being a disaster queer- a concept she was well acquainted with, but that was drowned out by the fact that Biana was still affectionate with her. Still found her pretty, wanted to date her, just as in love as ae was before. Why wouldn't ae be? Ae didn't know. But ae needed to know- it wasn't fair to keep lying to Biana, manipulate aer into thinking aer girlfriend was a good person.

"We need to break up," said the words spilling out of Marella's mouth. In horror, she watched as Biana's face fell, looking like slow motion. She could see the heartbreak dawn on aer, moment by moment.

Aer brown eyes filling with tears, ae whispered "Marella?"

"I- you can't- we- I need to go to Exile," Marella said. "We can't date if I'm in Exile."

"Why the fuck would you need to go to Exile? The fuck did you do?"

"Nothing yet. I'd like to keep it that way. Which is why I can't see you again."

"You're not making any sense, Marella!" The tears spilled onto aer cheeks, and whatever was left of Marella's ugly heart broke.

She didn't want to tell Biana. She really, really didn't want to look Biana in the eye and explain that she fantasized about killing aer. She would rather be anywhere else- preferably Exile- but Biana had a right to know why Marella was breaking up with aer. So she swallowed. "I... I get these thoughts," she started, not quite knowing how to verbalize this secret she'd kept so close to her forever. "About... hurting people. Hurting you. Earlier today, right before I left, I thought about killing you. Burning you. It was really vivid... I could see you on fire, looking so scared of me, before you turned to ashes and smoke. And then my brain whispered..."

Marella broke off into a sob, not daring to look at Biana's face. Ae probably hated her now. Ae hated herself too.

"It whispered, 'Do it. Burn aer. I know you want to.' I'm so fucked up, Biana, I'm too dangerous to be around you. Please just leave before you get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, but this monster that lives in my head wants me to. Or maybe the monster is me, it's all so fucked up, but I don't want to let the monster win, whatever it is. Protect yourself. Don't let it win."

"Marella..."

"Biana, please don't let it win! It would kill me to see you die, know it was all my fault... my heart's full of poison and seeing you die would still break it. I love you, I love you more than anything, which is why I have to keep you safe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She turned away, almost crying too hard to speak. "I'm sorry. I'll just... I'll go."

Cold fingers wrapped around her wrist. "Not a chance in hell," snapped Biana, whirling Marella back around. "Don't you dare push me away. I am your girlfriend, and I call the shots on whether or not you're too dangerous to be around me. And the only danger you pose is trying to make my head explode from gay panic."

"Hello!? And also burning you!" Why the fuck couldn't ae understand? Ae needed to get away.

"I'll carry around a damn fire extinguisher, I don't care. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself in life or death situations. I've survived the Neverseen a million times over, I can survive the off chance that you lose control and set me on fire. I'll take precautions and I'll be ready to defend myself if I need to, but I don't think I'm going to need to."

"You don't know that! You don't know how horrible I am!" Marella couldn't stop screaming. She wasn't angry at Biana. Just angry at herself. Angry at the monster. Just... angry. She needed to stop before she set anything on fire. Monster.

"No, I don't know for sure that you'll never hurt me. But I know that I love you. I'm not going to stop loving you just because you're a flawed package. It's not like I'm little miss perfect or anything. We can be fucked up together."

"You're not perfect, but you're damn well closer than I am! Even Fintan thought I was fucked up. Fintan. I love you, Biana, I do, but my heart's too ugly and poisonous to be in love like we are. I just need to cut our ties and hope the pain from missing you goes away eventually."

"I love you, you fucking idiot!" Biana shouted. "I love you, because you're Marella fucking Redek, and you make me want to freeze time and be happy with you forever. I love you so much that it feels like burning any time I think of life without you in it. I love you so much that it feels like my world is a little bit off-kilter and then I kiss you and that's the only time everything feels right. I love you because you've been with me through all the shit in my life and made me smile through it all, so now it's my turn to help you with your shit. I love you so, so much, and I love everything about you. Even the flaws. Even the monster. I wish I could tell the monster to stay away from my Marella, but I can't, so I'm going to tell Marella to stop being so hard on my Marella. I love her, and she's not as bad as she thinks she is. She's not bad at all. I love everything about you, Marella, but I can't love you the way I want to if you keep pushing me away. So we'll be in love, and then we'll also have my scars and your monster and all our history with the Neverseen, but we'll love each other through it all. I need you to understand that I love you, you fucking idiot." Biana's eyes were wild with desperation. Ae exhaled heavily, giving Marella a pleading look.

"I love you," whispered Marella. It was all she could say before collapsing into a hug, crying. "I love you. I'm so sorry I tried to leave. You're the best. I love you."

"I want you to love yourself almost as much as I love you. You deserve it."

Maybe Marella would believe that, eventually. Maybe she'd get there.

She was still broken; how could she not be, with a monster living in her head? A little bit burnt, a little damaged, a little horrible. But she kept living. (Biana stayed alive and un-burnt too, to Marella's delighted surprise.) Her ugly, poisonous heart kept beating.

Elwin gave her a little pill to help keep the monster quiet, help keep her from freaking out so much every time the monster reared its fiery head. She eventually got to a point where she could make little fires with her hand and not spiral into a panic. Biana held her other hand as Marella lit the Hanukkah candles herself, and she was a bit scared, but it melted away with the laughter and latkes and warm lighting. It was hard not to push aer away; hard to keep herself from running away.

But Marella did it, because she loved Biana. And she loved herself, just a little bit. And she tolerated the monster. So she kept going, and she allowed herself to love Biana. To love unafraid, with an ugly, poisonous heart.

[artificialqueens]

That's So Us (Crystal x Gigi) - Frankenvenus

a/n hi everybody. tysm for the love on the last fic! here’s a little fluffy angsty thing i wrote whilst i was soft over a pr*tty g*rl! enjoy ;)

.

Heidi cryssie, why aren’t u coming out with us tonight? It’s gonna be so much fun. the whole gang!! :(

Crystal sighed and glanced at the text from her friend for a while. The truth was, she didn’t exactly feel like being surrounded by everyone in her friendship group and their significant others. It would just increase the riddling loneliness in her chest.

Crystal sorry girl i am so so tired. i’ve been working on this thing with lux all week and i’m just not feeling it. maybe we can do it another time?

It was a lie. She was just making up excuses, but she was running out of them. She had spent her entire day on her couch with popcorn and Hulu, and she would continue to do so into the night whilst her friends got inebriated all over Instagram stories.

Heidi but girl it’s gigi and caleb’s 6 month anniversary! caleb is putting all our drinks on his tab. what a gentleman.

That was the problem. Caleb was the problem. Crystal and Gigi had been inseparable best friends since freshman year, but then the latter met Caleb at college, and then suddenly Crystal was no longer her beck and call. Crystal was always behind on what was going on in Gigi’s life now, because the girl would only ever tell her boyfriend.

However, Gigi seemed happy, and Crystal wasn’t such a terrible person that she would consider ruining her friend’s relationship. She supported them, but sometimes she would skip out on certain get-togethers and night-outs, for her own sanity mostly.

Crystal i really cant heidi. another time. have fun. send pics x

Thankfully, Heidi left it there. Crystal loved the girl with her whole heart, but doing free shots with her friends wasn’t worth having to watch Caleb touch her best friend all over for an entire night. It wasn’t that Crystal was an over-protective best friend, because that wasn’t true - Crystal was always willing to add another girl to the friendship group. It was when someone would jeopardise the magnetic force that caused her and Gigi to be attached by the hip that she would grow frustrated. Caleb just barged in and snatched Gigi away, and it stung.

It had only been an hour and Jan had already posted many Instagram stories of Gigi doing body shots off Caleb, her long, dirty-blonde curls brushing his skin as her tongue licked across his neck. Crystal stared at the images for longer than she should’ve, watching the way her friend’s eyes rolled back as she pressed her lips against her boyfriend’s jaw. It took everything in Crystal to press the off button on her phone, and she let out a breath of relief when the screen turned black.

Her expression was reminiscent of someone who had just bitten into a lemon, and she caught a glance at the look in the mirror. Her own face caused her to question why she was so bothered. P.D.A wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Caleb had come between her and Gigi’s friendship, that was all. Crystal scrutinized herself in the mirror, attempting to run her fingers through her large tuft of red curls and failing after getting tangled up at the ends. She sighed at her own appearance, noticing that the happy glow she usually sported had faded. She used to look radiant with crazy hair, and now she simply looked burned out with a tangled mess on her head.

“Fuck this,” she muttered to herself, slowly pushing herself off the couch and towards the bathroom. A wash was very much necessary at that moment. She had been too drained to shower for the past three days, and her hair had become greasy and matted - so much so that even Jackie had pointed it out, and the Persian was never one to criticise.

She turned on the shower dial to a warm setting and stepped in, grabbing her curly shampoo off the small bathroom shelf. Almost instantly, it slipped through her hands, hitting her foot with a loud thud. She shrieked and grabbed her foot with pain, trying to massage the sharp feeling away, to no avail. She watched as her skin reddened and knew that it would soon turn purple. Could things possibly get worse?

Apparently yes, they could, because Dahlia from upstairs decided it would be fun to run a bath right as the redhead stepped into the shower, and the bath always fucked up the water pipe. Crystal’s shower water suddenly turned chilly, causing the girl to quickly hop away from the head and towards her heated towel rail.

She limped to her bedroom, sat by her dresser, sprayed an ungodly amount of dry shampoo in her hair before placing curl serum on a comb and brushing her hair through. The serum made it less impossible to bring a brush through her hair without snapping the handle or getting it stuck. A downside was, it would add even more grease to her hair, but it wasn’t her fault that Dahlia decided to have a bath at eleven at night.

Whilst Crystal was blow-drying her hair, she heard her phone begin to ring from the living room. She overlooked it at first - assuming it’d be a drunk facetime from Heidi - but then it didn’t stop, and the redhead grew concerned. She placed the hairdryer down and padded to the living room, her foot still aching. She made a mental note to place frozen peas on it as she picked her phone up.

Incoming call from Gigi Goode

As much as Crystal wished to distance herself from the blonde that night, she still couldn’t ignore her completely, especially when there could be something wrong. In her mind, the predominant thought was ’What does she need to ask me so bad that she can’t ask him?’ She picked up the phone before it was too late, and was instantly met with the sound of heavy breathing and sniffles.

“G?” Crystal asked, her voice laced with concern, “Are you there?”

”I don’t like him, Crystal.” - her voice was shaky, but not the kind of shaky that was caused by poor mobile reception. No, this shake was triggered by tears.

“Don’t like who, G? Caleb?”

”Yeah. I was just watching him from across the bar, and I was watching his face and I- I guess I just realised that I can’t be with him cause I don’t like him,“ the blonde began whimpering, and Crystal instantly made a beeline for the set of car keys hanging on her wall. ”So I told him that I didn’t like him and he shouted at me, so I left.”

The redhead was relieved that she had chosen to drink lemonade instead of cider that night, and she was limping her way towards the underground car park before she even had the chance to ask Gigi for her location.

“Where are you, Gee?” she inquired, frantically fiddling with her keys to unlock her Skoda. Her hair was still lightly dripping over her shoulder, and she was practically in her pyjamas, but that was the last thing on her mind at that moment.

”I kinda wandered off and now I’m at Grand Hope Park on the swing set. I don’t know where the others are.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming.”

Crystal began to drive and saw the streets bustling with people. The roads were almost empty, but the streetlights were against her. She had caught almost every red light on route, and every time she saw another one she would curse at it like a sailor.

She parked her car a block away from Grand Hope, soon noticing that she had forgotten to bring her purse with her. Briefly, she scanned her surroundings for nearby meter maids. When she was sure the coast was clear, she made her way towards the park, and spotted Gigi almost instantly. The blonde was sitting at the bottom of a plastic slide, face illuminated by her phone screen. Crystal called out her name from a few metres away, and the blonde’s head instantly shot up. It was then that Crystal saw what a mess she had made of her eyeshadow. She must’ve cried then rubbed her eyes because now the mocha-coloured powder that she had so intricately applied to her lids was spread across her cheeks like Halloween makeup.

All the words became unspoken. Gigi’s eyes became hooded as Crystal drew closer and closer, soon towering over the former. The redhead held out her hand and the blonde took it, hoisting herself up and instantly embracing her in a cold hug. Gigi’s arms were bare - she was wearing nothing but a flimsy jumpsuit - so Crystal found herself gently stroking her upper arms with her own warm hands.

They were silent when Crystal took her hand, and they remained silent when the girl led Gigi to the next block, into the car. Crystal didn’t ask questions when Gigi flicked on the car stereo and leaned her forehead against the passenger window, and she didn’t question the blonde when she quietly began to sing along to the tune that played quietly through the speakers - Sign of the times by Harry Styles.

Had Crystal been alone, she would’ve belted the song in its entirety, but she refrained from doing so for the mental state of her best friend. Instead, she took one hand off the wheel and placed it on Gigi’s thigh after noticing it beginning to bounce anxiously.

“He was so mad, Crys,” Gigi spoke up suddenly, her mumbled words nearly inaudible under the buzz of the engine. After a pause, the blonde lifted her head off the window and turned to Crystal, tears spilling from her eyes.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” the redhead raised a brow.

“No, but I was scared that he would. He has a really really short temper and he- well he reminded me of my dad so-”

Crystal swiftly pulled into a rest area after hearing Gigi utter that final sentence. She halted the car once they had exited the main road, and pulled the blonde into a much more meaningful hug this time.

“Oh, Geeg,” she sighed into the blonde’s curls, listening painfully as the sound of Gigi’s sobs filled the car. “You don’t owe him your love. It’s better that you told him not before it’s too late. You can’t force attraction. At least you knew better than to pretend.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Can you, uh- could I stay over at your place tonight? I just need a change of setting and I mean… I haven’t slept over in a while.”

She was right. She hadn’t slept over in a while. In fact, they hadn’t spoken this much in quite a while. Although Crystal was nice enough to keep it to herself, her brain was in overdrive of gratitude that Gigi and Caleb were now over. Perhaps now she could get her friend back.

The redhead agreed to the girl staying over, and soon they had set off again and were pulling in to the car park beneath Crystal’s building. Realising that Gigi was still quite drunk, Crystal assisted her up the staircase. They could’ve taken the elevator, though both of them had forever vowed to stop doing that after once getting trapped there for three hours together.

“I don’t know why you helped me. I didn’t even have to ask. Even though I have treated you like shit for the last half-year. You had every reason to decline my call,” the blonde rambled as Crystal pushed open the door to her apartment.

The redhead turned to Gigi with a confused look on her face.

“That’s not true. Sure I missed you a little bit, but I’m not a shitty friend and I would never leave you hanging,” Crystal assured, pulling Gigi in and closing the door, “Go sit on the couch and I’ll grab you some makeup remover, okay?”

Gigi nodded and disappeared into the living room, leaving Crystal to steady herself. The blonde was an honest drunk and she had drunkenly rambled to Crystal on her couch after clubbing countless times before, but this was different, somehow. The redhead tried to think of ways she should comfort her friend whilst she searched for cotton pads, but the truth was all she wanted to say was ‘He was never going to treat you right. I’ll always treat you right.’ She instantly became disgusted with herself at the prospect. What kind of friend was so obsessive?Her ex-boyfriend was right. She did need therapy.

She entered the living room where Gigi was sat in her green velvet armchair, clutching her knees to her chest. Surprisingly, the blonde had the hint of a smile on her glossy lips.

“What?” Crystal asked as she approached the girl, squeezing the makeup remover onto the cotton pad and dragging it across Gigi’s caked cheeks. The blonde pushed her hair to the side, giving Crystal more access to the product-covered parts of her face.

“It’s just crazy. I didn’t like him so I got sad, and you were the only person I knew wasn’t drinking tonight so I called you, but I don’t like him because of you,” Gigi smiled like it meant nothing, but Crystal’s breathing came to a halt.

“I’m lost…”

Gigi breathed and sat forward so her and Crystal’s faces were close enough to radiate heat off one another.

“I just mean like… every time he fucked me, I just thought about you. I mean, it’s not my fault though. The times I didn’t think about you I would have to fake it. Ugh.”

Gigi said those words with such confidence that Crystal wasn’t sure if she was drunkenly telling the truth or merely pulling her leg. The redhead dropped the makeup remover and stepped back.

“Are you fucking with me, Gigi?”

“God no. I wish I was, I mean I’ve liked you since I was what? Fourteen? God knows how long. I’m only telling you this cause I have nothing else to lose. I know you like guys though.”

Crystal bit her lip and sat herself down on her couch opposite her armchair, “You are so beyond drunk right now, Geeg. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Gigi stood up from her seat, nearly tripping over as she made her way towards Crystal, her brows furrowed and her lip pouted, “I promise I’m telling the truth.”

The redhead stood up so they were face-to-face once more. They were usually the same height, but Gigi stood a little higher due to the platforms she sported that night. Crystal leaned upwards and tapped Gigi’s nose softly before pulling out the sofa bed.

“Go to sleep. If you’re not bullshitting me, then you’ll tell me in the morning exactly what you told me now. Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll make a note.”

[chilling-seavey]

Passchadaele letters between Corbyn and Daniel cause I miss them ~T

I miss these boys so much :( This is a very good insight into their post-war lives so thank you for this! Sorry it took so long! 

(Also, this contains spoilers so only read if you have finished the novel!)

TW // mentions of post-war trauma, PTSD/shellshock, and suicidal thoughts

June 8, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

I hope you are well since arriving home. I am sorry it has been a while for me to write you, things here have been a little crazy. Elizabeth’s alive and well and she picked me up from the train station when we returned. She was sent home early from Belgium and didn’t even know about the bombings of the field hospital. I am so grateful however I can’t find it in myself to feel happy. I’m sure it will fade with time as I settle back into life at home but for now, I will be praying for Christian and Zach and our lost friends.

Elizabeth would love to meet you and your girl one day. She has been absolute thrilled with the idea of making a new friend. We should set something up.

Write me back soon.

Daniel

~~

June 11, 1915

Dear Daniel,

You have no idea how relieved I was to receive your letter! I was starting to think you got lost on your way home from the train station! It is so good to hear about Elizabeth and her safety and good health. Give her a hug for me and tell her that Christine and I would be more than happy to host the two of you whenever you please. I am sure she will be cleaning and baking for days in preparation!

Is your family well? I can’t imagine any of your pain in regard to Christian and the war. I have been praying for your peace every night. I know you mentioned your father isn’t the easiest man so I am hoping you’re hanging in there and keeping your sanity through Elizabeth!

Corbyn

~~

June 15, 1915

Corbyn,

I don’t want to bother you with my nonsense, but it’s been hard. They didn’t know of Christian’s passing, so I had to break the news to them. The formal letter came last week, and mother has cried a lot, not even trying to hide it now; I can’t help but feel her sorrow as well. It feels like he’s in my arms sometimes, like I can feel his body weight in my lap and his blood on my hands and the nightmares are worse. Father has had plenty of angry words for me when I cry even when I’ve hidden it the best I could. I just want it all to stop.

Elizabeth is my best distraction and I’m blessed to have her with me. She’s so patient. Her parents treat me like one of their own…I wish my parents were as understanding as hers are. I am going to ask her to marry me tomorrow. I cannot imagine life without her and when I was forced to, the world felt so much darker. I hope she says yes.

Your friend,

Daniel

~~

June 18, 1915

Dear Friend, Daniel,

That is oh-so exciting about the engagement! I am almost positive she will say yes. Let me know what her exact words were!

You are never bothering me with your letters. You’re like a brother to me and you’re so young, I want to make sure you’re okay; we went through something life changing together, something life ruining together, it’s not easy. You mentioned nightmares? What kind of nightmares, if you don’t mind me asking? I have had a few myself, feeling like I’m back with a rifle in my hand and thousands of lives under my control. Waiting to go over the top. The waiting is the worst.

Just remember that you’re safe now.

Corbyn

~~

June 21, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

Elizabeth said yes before I even could open my mouth to ask her! We were under the tree in her garden and I had my grandmother’s engagement ring in my pocket and barely pulled it out and she was kissing me and telling me she would love nothing more than to marry me. We are hoping to be married when the war is over. I hope it’s soon. Father wasn’t impressed with the engagement as he never liked Elizabeth and how she and her mother are fighting for the women’s vote. I am proud of her though. Mother and Anna are excited for us which I am glad of. I just can’t wait to get out of this house.

My nightmares contain lots of things. Mostly reliving the Kitchener’s Wood attack where I find myself either on the brink of death with its cold grip around my throat or stabbing that German boy over and over and watching the life drain out of him makes me sick to my stomach. Its every night. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep as I always take hours to fall asleep and I wake up in a pool of sweat. Sometimes the dreams are so real I can’t remember where I am when I wake up. Anna says she can hear me screaming in my sleep often. I want it all to stop. I want to forget it all and get away from the haunting memories of the death and the torture and the chilling and never-ending mud. I want my brother back and I want Zach back and I want to be okay again. I can’t remember what happiness feels like, I can’t remember what rest felt like, I can’t remember calmness. I can’t even shave without being scared of the blade. I’m scared of myself and my own capabilities that I know to be true. What would happen if I accidentally slit my throat with it and bled out just like Christian? I can’t bring myself to even touch the shaving kit.

Elizabeth helps all she can, and I love her for it, but I feel so badly for being miserable and for being such a handful and such a burden for her. I can’t bare to tell her about all this in fear of worrying her or scaring her off. She deserves more than me.

D

~~

June 24, 1915

Daniel,

Listen to me, you’re not a burden to anyone and especially not Elizabeth or to me. It seems you’re suffering from shellshock; it’s a new term that front-line doctors have come up with to describe the mental effects of post-war trauma. You aren’t alone and you’re not the only one going through this, I promise. You aren’t a bad person for killing that German boy. We were ordered to by the government and you hold no responsibility for that. You were fighting for your life and you did what you had to do to survive. You are safe now. Safe with people who love you and are willing to listen to you and care for you. Confide in Elizabeth as much as you confide in me; she has the benefit of being able to be a comfort to you in person. Keep holding on and being the strong man you are; you’re doing great and you will get through this dark patch. I am always here to listen to you and guide you the best I can.

You’re my brother and I love you like my own family.

Your dear friend,

Corbyn

~~

June 30, 1915

Daniel,

I haven’t heard back from you and I’m getting worried. I will stop by your house if I don’t hear word from you in three days. I hope you are just taking some time to yourself with Elizabeth and forgot to reply. Please write me as soon as you get this, even just one word to know you’re still okay.

Corbyn

~~

July 6, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

Mother said you stopped by the other day. I am sorry for worrying you. I have been in bed the last few short weeks because facing the world makes everything feel worse. A woman at the shops had yelled at me, calling me a coward for coming home early when all our other men are still overseas, throwing things at me to get me out of her shop. I think Elizabeth hit her to shut her up, but I can’t remember because I think I blacked out. It all feels hopeless. Father says I’m a disappointment of a son for being such a crybaby; I think he would tell me he would rather me have died in battle than Christian if he wasn’t worried what mother would say to him. I honestly don’t blame him. I wish I did too.

Like you said, I have confided in Elizabeth and she’s been over often to try and help me take my mind off of things. She’s really amazing and I can’t believe she’s mine. I guess things are getting better although it hurts so bad sometimes. Thank you for caring about me so much. I know I have you and Elizabeth when all feels hopeless.

I want to be able to marry her and to watch my kids grow up. I can only pray this war is over soon and I will be able to provide and safe and peaceful life for my children, free from conflict and violence and death. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.

We may be out of the gunfire but it’s still a struggle to survive at home. Just taking it day by day for now.

Miss you, brother.

Daniel

[midnightprelude]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

It’s 1 AM here suckers, so even if I haven’t slept on Saturday I’m going to beat all of you to the punch, MUAHAHA!

Feel free to post your WIP whenever you have a chance, no matter the day and more (or less) six sentences if you want. Rules are guidelines here on the tumbles. For example, I wasn’t sure where to cut this one. 

Tagging @tryvyalsynnes, @johaeryslavellan, @elveny, @kunstpause, @solas-disapproves, @serial-chillr, @pikapeppa, @oftachancer, @theherocomplex, @aban-asaara, @kittimau, @theaiobhan, @fandomn00blr, @cornfedcryptid (congrats on graduating!), and @lavellanlove as well as ANYONE ELSE I MAY HAVE MISSED! Tag me if you wanna play and I didn’t get you (but also don’t feel obligated or save the tag for later if you want)!

“Dominus?”

“Hmm?” Dorian turned to the voice, not realizing he’d had company. His head servant was addressing him, a look of polite embarrassment on his face.

“I did not mean to disturb you, Master, I simply wished to inquire after your dinner preferences? Would you prefer your dinner be brought to your study again?”

Dorian sighed, turning to his majordomo, resigned. “Perhaps it’s for the best… I feel like I’m drowning in work and nothing seems to make much of a difference. Was it like this for my father as well, Livius?”

The majordomo, Livius, had served the Pavus family since before Dorian had been born, when Dorian’s grandfather was still the master of the house; he was a slave for over four decades and freed with the rest of the Pavus staff when Dorian inherited the estate. He’d helped raise both Halward and his son in turn and had been in the majordomo of the family’s Qarinus property when Dorian was in his late twenties. He’d been one of the slaves who’d helped him escape when Halward Pavus had kept him in captivity.

The aging servant shook his head slightly, looking at Dorian, but not quite meeting his eyes. “If you will forgive my forthrightness, it is easier to maintain a system than try to change it. Master Halward preferred the former. Should I send for Master Anders as well?”

“Of course, if he’s not too busy….” He turned to look back at his lover, who was patting down the soil around his plants like they were the most delicate possessions he owned. “I’m so worn out, so completely drained… I don’t understand how they can’t see; we’re trying to make the Imperium better… Sometimes I wonder why I’m fighting. It’s like I’m pushing against a wall made of steel.”

The majordomo moved to his side, a respectable distance away, and finally met his eyes. “Perhaps you need some rest, Dominus, if you do not mind me saying so. You have seemed… pained… of late.”

Anders had finally noticed them standing upon the balcony and waved, his fingers blackened from the soil. Dorian felt a familiar tug in his chest as he smiled back, meeting his lover’s gaze fondly.  

“Yes, perhaps a day in bed is just what I need. Send for Anders, if you’d be so kind, have him cleaned up and dressed and I’ll do the same. We’ll dine formally, in the gardens, when the sun begins to set.”

There was a glint in Livius’ eyes at the phrase ‘a day in bed’. The staff had been warned, prepared, for the eventuality. Dorian hadn’t expected he’d need it so soon.

“As you wish, Dominus, it will be seen to accordingly.”

He turned to Livius, the man who had probably saved his life those many years ago and spent his days since making sure Dorian maintained his sanity, clasping his hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

[angelofrainfrogs]

And They Were Flatmates...

Fandoms: The Bartimaeus Trilogy (Modern College AU)

Description: Kitty is studying for midterms at a café when a familiar face asks to sit at her table. The boy turns out to be her flatmate’s brother, and their chance meeting leads to some interesting revelations and the beginning of a new friendship. 

Rating: K+

Genre: General/Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736820

This story was written for @avaenox during the 2020 Bartimaeus Fic Exchange. Check out the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Bartimaeus_Exchange_2020

“Oh my god, will you shut up?!” Kitty hissed at her phone, glaring as notification after notification popped up in quick succession.

“I haven’t said anything yet, but message received,” a soft voice responded. Kitty jumped, startled, and noticed a boy standing next to her table, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Kitty’s mouth fell open in shock.

“…Bartimaeus?” she asked slowly, utterly confused. This boy looked nearly identical to the flatmate who was currently blowing up her phone, if a tad younger.

The boy laughed, a bright sound, and Kitty couldn’t help but a smile a little in response.

“No, not Bartimaeus, but I certainly know him,” the boy said. He gestured to the open seat across from Kitty and she nodded, quickly gathering up the plethora of books she’d scattered across the tabletop. The boy sat down and shrugged off his backpack, then placed his coffee on the table and held out his other hand to Kitty. “My name is Ptolemy.”

“Kitty,” she responded, shaking his hand. The name struck a chord, though she couldn’t immediately place where it came from. She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her own coffee before asking, “I’m assuming you and Bartimaeus are related?”

“Yes, he’s my older brother,” Ptolemy replied, gesturing to himself with a laugh. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“Oh!” Kitty exclaimed, slapping a palm to her forehead. “Oh my god, Ptolemy! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize the name, wow… Nice to finally meet you!”

“I take it Bartimaeus has mentioned me, then?” Ptolemy asked, and Kitty rolled her eyes exasperatedly, though there was no real malice in the action.

“Only all the time.”

Ptolemy grimaced, then took a big swig of coffee before responding. “Yes, that’s sort of why I wanted to get a different roommate this year… I do love him, but he definitely takes the overprotective big brother roll to the extreme.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Kitty said, and Ptolemy’s expression shifted to one of mild concern.

“I hope he’s not causing you too much trouble…”

“Oh no, no!” Kitty shook her head, needing to wipe that expression off Ptolemy’s face immediately. It looked wrong for him to be upset. “I mean, I’ll admit he can be a handful, but he’s alright 80% of the time.”

“Wow, that’s much better than I was expecting.” Ptolemy nodded somberly, then met Kitty’s gaze and they both broke out into a round of giggles.

“I’m sorry if I distracted you, by the way,” Ptolemy said once they’d settled down. He gestured to Kitty’s collection of textbooks and notes. “I had actually meant to talk to you, but only to ask if I could sit here and do my own work; this is the only available spot in the café.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kitty responded, waving away his apology. “I was losing focus anyway; I’ve been trying to write this paper for hours and I don’t know how much more my mind can handle today.”

“Ah, yes—midterms.” Ptolemy dug around in his backpack and brought out a humongous textbook. It was obviously quite heavy, because he barely got it over the table before it slipped from his grip and landed just shy of his coffee cup with a loud bang! In unison, all patrons in the shop turned towards their corner as Ptolemy’s eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Oops,” he murmured, then gestured to the offending book. “This ethics book has been the bane of my existence for the past two weeks.”

“I can imagine,” Kitty responded, grimacing at the plethora of colored tabs sticking out of the pages.

“Yes… although, I have to say I’m not nearly as stressed as my flatmate.” A haunted look flashed across Ptolemy’s face so quickly Kitty thought she imagined it. “He’s been absolutely losing his mind, poor thing… that’s why I figured I’d get out and try to do some work at the nearby café.”

“To escape for a bit?” Kitty took a sip of coffee, glancing at him knowingly over the rim of her cup, and Ptolemy tried to suppress another pained grimace.

“To give him some space,” he corrected. Then, after a pause, he added, “And yes, to give myself a few hours of sanity as well.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Well, by this point I’m used to the way he acts when he gets overly stressed—which, unfortunately, is quite often.” Ptolemy paused, musing on some inner thoughts. “I do wish I could help him more, but I’ve realized the best solution when he gets this way is to let him work things out in his own time. An unfortunate downside is that he’s quite restless and tends to wander around the flat muttering to himself, not to mention his tendency to leave things scattered around at random, so… neither of us gets any peace and quiet during this stage.”

“I understand.” Kitty nodded knowingly. “I rarely get any time to myself with Bartimaeus—I mean he’s constantly trying to hang out, which is fine usually, but when midterms come up…” She shook her head exhaustedly. “And then, sometimes when he really wants attention—” Suddenly, Kitty realized that she’d been dangerously close to insulting the brother of the boy sitting across from her. She met Ptolemy’s gaze, ready to apologize, but found him chuckling and nodding his head.

“Trust me, no one understands your predicament better than myself,” he responded, and his grin showed no ill-will. “I’m sorry that you’re now the brunt of his focus.”

“No, no,” Kitty waved away the apology. “Like I said, most of the time it’s fine, but I suppose certain times are just more stressful for everyone.”

“And everyone shows their stress in different ways.”

Kitty nodded, and a companionable silence descended over the table. Soon, the pair had their respective textbooks open and were pouring over notes from the past semester of classes. They both became so wrapped up in their studying that a sharp ding! from Ptolemy’s backpack nearly made them jump out of their seats. He gave an apologetic grimace and fished around the backpack for his phone.

“Ah,” he said, a corner of his mouth lifting as he read the message he’d just received. “It seems my flatmate has calmed down and wants to know if I’d like any company.”

“Well, feel free to go if you—wait.” Kitty pulled her phone out of her pocket, long since put on silent mode, and scrolled through the barrage of texts that had piled up during her short time with Ptolemy. She raised an eyebrow at said boy, who looked inquisitively back at her. “Has Bartimaeus met your flatmate yet?”

“No, we just recently moved in together; why?”

Kitty flashed a mischievous smile. “What do you say we give your brother a new friend to entertain?”

Ptolemy laughed, his entire face lighting up. “I’d say that’s a very good idea.”

***

“Hmm…not very intimidating, is he?” Bartimaeus asked, circling the pale boy as if he were a lion trying to decide if this particular prey was worth the effort. “Looks like a gust of wind might knock the poor sod over…”

“Excuse me,” the boy snapped, his unexpectedly stern voice overtaking Ptolemy’s groan of embarrassment. “I can hear everything you’re saying, in case you didn’t realize.”

“Oh no, I realized.” Bartimaeus flashed a grin and ruffled the boy’s hair, earning a snarl of annoyance. “Aw, don’t get so bent out of shape, Natty boy.”

“That is not my name!” Nathaniel hissed, swatting Bartimaeus’ hand away.

“…Well, this isn’t quite the way I expected things to go,” Kitty commented as the pair started bickering in earnest. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Ptolemy running a stressed hand through his hair.

“It was one of the two ways I thought this would turn out, actually,” he admitted guiltily. “I figured my brother would either take Nathaniel under his wing, or they’d end up pretty much like this.”

Kitty pondered this in silence for a few seconds, before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Okay, yeah… Honestly, once you told me that Nathaniel Underwood was your roommate, my hopes of a smooth meeting went down the drain, too. That kid’s had a stick up his ass since Year 9.”

“You’ve known him that long?” Ptolemy asked, surprised.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Kitty smirked. “We didn’t interact that much at first, although I could tell he’s always had it out for me for some reason. One day after school he cornered me outside and started lecturing me on how rude I was for not paying attention during class… He was getting really aggressive about it, so I punched him in the face.”

“…Oh,” Ptolemy said, eyes shifting between Kitty and Nathaniel a few times before he nodded solemnly. “Yes, I can definitely see that happening.”

“What, him trying to boss people around, or me knocking a scrawny little kid upside the jaw?” Kitty raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Both,” Ptolemy responded, and the duo broke into a laugh.

“Hey!” Nathaniel exclaimed, his voice cutting through the amiable atmosphere like a knife.  “Ptolemy, can you please do something about this brother of yours? I don’t think I can stand another minute of him harassing me.”

“Listen, Nat, giving you fashion advice about your atrocious style isn’t ‘harassment,’ it’s helpful,” Bartimaeus said, to which Nathaniel shot him a deadly glare. Bartimaeus looked at Kitty imploringly. “Kitty, can you do something about your obnoxious childhood friend?”

“Oh, we’re not friends,” Kitty and Nathaniel said in unison, a bit too quickly. Ptolemy and Bartimaeus shared a disbelieving look.

“Ah, I see… old flames, then,” Bartimaeus said, nodding sagely.

“Oh god no!” Kitty exclaimed as Nathaniel sputtered unintelligibly.

“It’s okay, Nat, you can admit it.” Bartimaeus wrapped an amiable arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders, which the boy promptly shoved off.

“There’s nothing to admit!” he practically screeched, and just like that the pair were bickering even more heatedly than before.

“I’m glad we decided to host the meetup at my flat instead of the coffee shop,” Ptolemy murmured, pointedly ignoring the blush still covering Kitty’s face. “We’d have definitely been kicked out by now.”

“Oh, for sure,” she said with a laugh, grateful at the change of subject. She nodded her head to Bartimaeus and Nathaniel. “Think they’ll ever get along?”

“Only time will tell.” Ptolemy glanced sideways and met Kitty’s gaze, flashing a bright smile. “Well, at least we can hold a normal conversation—that’s got to count for something, right?”

“Definitely.” Kitty’s smile mirrored his and she held out a hand. “To new friendships?”

“To new friendships,” Ptolemy agreed, grasping her hand firmly. He let out a chuckle and gestured with his free hand to the still-warring pair across the room. “And to whatever that turns out to be.”

Kitty rolled her eyes in agreement, a smile still tugging at the edges of her lips. It seemed as though her life was about to get very interesting.

[thisiskatsblog]

Hi Kat, I often come to seek your wisdom and thoughts on matters such as these because you were the first Larry blog I ever found and the last time I did, you really seemed to understand me and my conflicting emotions and messiness haha. So. My question is what are your thoughts on the Ray and SBB twitter accounts? I found them a few months back when I found a thread explaining a theory of why it's L&H and go back now and again to see what is being posted. I am the darkest Larrie there is, yet

contd: I always prefer to be a cynic because I know just how devastating it is when you put your hope in something only to have it crumbled. And in this fandom, you can't trust anything or anyone unless there is hardcore evidence and proof (aka every millisecond of footage of fetus Larry). There is talk about clues, numbers, iphone/androids and these cryptic riddles and hidden meanings. People do admit in the comments it feels like they're clowning yet I also see thousands resting their hopes contd: on these obscure tweets. I will admit the proof thread I originally read made it seem believable but I then I thought 'who am I kidding, there's no way it could genuinely by H&L'. It doesn't seem like something they would risk, nor something either of them would actually do. It seems like two people baiting Larries and giving us false hope (because in this era where we never get public interaction, many have become far more gullible and willing to believe anything, no matter how far

fetched. Ahh I don't know. It just seems far too good to be true that the two of them are communicating with us through cryptic pictures and riddles and messages. Yes I do believe they both have always found ways to communicate with us, whether it is through songs or body language, because we opened our eyes, we were by their sides and stay strong for them because this is a fight they will win, but I really don't know. It's very cruel if someone is indeed baiting us. Thanks x

 (^^^ March 23rd) 

2.       Anonymous said:

March 25th 2020, 7:06:01 am · a month ago

okay so I just read some master posts explaining RBB and SBB in detail (I didn't get why people were hanging onto every word of Ray and Seymour's tweets like that) and my mind is literally going INSANE trying to process it all. As usual their reactions when asked about it directly on that christmas sweater interview told me all I needed to know back when I watched it but had no idea the sheer significance of these bears until now. It's crazy all the ways L&H showed us the truth all along, to

this day it's just mind-blowing to me. Like they were screaming in the midst of drowning (cough cough Director's Cut), desperate for us to listen and thank God so many of us weren't blind. Sometimes I do feel like maybe I am going crazy or I am delusional for believing in this, as FIMQ said, the cognitive dissonance is real. My mind spirals catastrophically and I doubt my own sanity, and then my mind plays all these touches and glances, slipped words and monumental actions on a loop, far too

much evidence to dispute, and I know I can never go back, how can I, when I've never in my whole life witnessed such magnificent, almost otherworldly love, never cared about any celebrity's love life yet this is far more than that, it is fighting for their love, because they should have never had to be that strong, to endure so much pain, so so young, but they weren't that strong for us to be weak. And I can't wait for the day they are free. No one on this earth deserves it more than L&H.

 3.        Anonymous said:

March 26th 2020, 12:44:47 pm · a month ago

Even I am the darkest Larrie (and yes there is no going back, ever) sometimes I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Loving and supporting and fighting so fucking hard for a love that is as tragic and excruciating as it is the most beautiful, magnificent thing I have ever witnessed. I wonder, did I get it all wrong and what if they don't find their way back to each other, my waking moments are haunted by memories of them, so young, so clearly smitten, like who the fuck finds their soulmate at

that age? What if even if it is 'always going to be h for Lou', even if they were 'too young to know they had everything' but h doesn't forgive him or remember that yes, their love is worth it? Sometimes I feel I am teetering on the brink of insanity, what if Lou actually has a kid? And Harry's album was about a horrible woman who never deserved him? I think I'll be strong for them, even if I have to wait ten or twenty years but I also feel so much pain thinking about it all. I have never

doubted my own sanity in my life, but lately I wonder so often if I am delusional for having faith in the love of two boys who we're fated to meet and fall in love. I can't even watch them in their baby boyfriends stage or watch edits anymore because I feel physical pain because they never deserved that. I feel pain thinking about their pain, no one should have to face that so young. To be that strong. I want to be strong yet and I try so hard but i also feel I am going mad. I don't even know.

______________________________

Three anons that I suspect are the same person (and maybe even the same one I just answered). Big hugs to you dear anonymous person! And thanks for the compliment. And the patience. I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer. Not sure if I have anything helpful to say, still, except: the fact that you’ve started doubting your sanity, that cognitive dissonance you feel, that dizzy head nauseous gut feeling you get when what you see and what you hear and what you read, just doesn’t match up but you haven’t been able to rationally unravel it yet. That feeling is probably your best proof that something is very amiss, and that Louis’ and Harry’s relationship is very real. We all know that feeling, and it tends to get worse the more caught up in fandom you get.

Your sanity is worth preserving though, so - in my view - it’s better to leave the fandom for a while, however short, to take care of yourself, and be strong for yourself when you feel like it’s draining you too much. You can do that by physically leaving social media, or by taking emotional, and mental distance on a regular basis.

I always remind myself that I have no influence over whether Louis and Harry eventually make it together. And next to no influence over their careers, management, label. I can decide what I do, and have a wee tiny bit of influence on the modest amount of followers of this blog, and then a wee little bit more through the other one - but all in all, my actions, the person they matter most to, the person they influence most, is me. So I try to do, in life, and in this fandom, the things that make me happy. Worrying, does not make me happy. Arguing with hets rads antis and all the other new abbreviations i don’t really get, doesnt make me happy either - I only do it when I’m having one of those days or one of them really sets me off like the other day. But in general, what makes me happy is focusing on the positive. What this fandom has brought me. And has brought other LGBTQ+ people. What are we learning here, what stories do we tell eachother, how are we making eachother better here. 

All of that said: Louis, and Harry, have both sung, in this past year, that they “made it”, and referenced eachother’s music videos in important ways. So I honestly don’t think there’s much to worry about. I think that, whatever was causing them difficulties, they already “found their way back”. I think they are allright.

And I want us to be allright to. That’s something we can influence, that we can do for eachother. So I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you

I enjoyed reading your SBB post, talking about the sweater interview. That part of it was wonderful, and everything we needed to know. I took RBB and SBB with a big grain of salt in the beginning, but I have reason to believe it was them, or someone very close to them, and that interview did confirm that.

With or without permission, that’s difficult to say. Was it queerbaiting? I’ve been asked that question so many times. In a sense noo, because they are LGBTQ+ themselves - but there is the fact that RBB & SSB very deliberately engaged with LGBTQ+ fans and kept them here while they must have known, at least after bullshit 2.0 happened, that they were going to stay closeted. 

I don’t know exactly how I feel about that. It was a crazy ride, and some of it was enjoyable, and I think the support is important to them, so I do want to stay around. But I also  think it’s shit that LGBTQ+ fans in this fandom have done SO much to support them, and are getting so much shit in return, still, not from them, not at all, but in this environment - and no one is stopping it. 

And that’s not just the case in Louis’ fandom, where we’re definitely experiencing enormous amounts of cognitive dissonance with the bearding and babygate. But also in Harry’s. When LGBTQ+ fans bring rainbows night after night, but it’s constantly portrayed as if Harry is the one bringing them, and when it’s LGBTQ+ fans organising to light up arena’s night after night across Europe, but the only time that gets featured is when it’s two straight girls organising it, insisting they are not doing it for queer fans but because we should be one happy family inclusiveness all around.. I can understand the frustration, the impression of queerbaiting, the feeling of being taken for granted, that made some people leave Harry’s fandom. I will stay, I think he’s amazing, and I think he needs and is grateful for the support, but as an LGBTQ+ fan, I still feel like I am in a hostile environment - knowing he is with Louis, and that he cannot speak about it, has never spoken about any concrete relationship with a man. That’s... - that still tells LGBTQ+ people they are not 100% legit. 

And that’s probably not a lot better for the straight fans who see what we see: a beautiful relationship they can’t speak about and that’s denied all the time. That, too, tells you your thoughts are not legit, and therefore you are not legit. The gaslighting... it’s probably the most poisonous, detrimental aspect of this fandom. Coming back after more than a year off, I was shocked, at how clear things seemed to me again, compared to how doubtful I had been about my own opinions when I left. Taking time off is not abandoning them. Remember that. For me, it made me stronger, and it allows me to support them now. 

So I hope this gets better. Soon. I am still convinced they want that too. And when I start doubting, I listen to Only The Brave... 

[lucarioisinthevoid]

(Okay, I recently realized a few asks that are very interesting and out of left field and whoever sends them, I really appreciate you. All asks are great, but it’s pretty fun to just look at an ask and go “… I never implied anything about this, but I will take this, no questions asked. I wish I weren’t so tired, otherwise I would answer them ALL in one go. … welp, I mean if I could I would answer ALL asks in one go, but my brain is just so drained. H e c k. Anyways! I’m happy about these, always feel free to go nuts on my inbox! Thank you!) Well this is quite the question! We’ll start easy! Mike is obviously wrath. That really doesn’t need explanation, does it? Hell, rage is his main emotion, both as a defense and to solve his problems. I think though if wrath was his true signature, as in him being a personification of wrath, ironically enough, he would have a better grip on it. Mike doesn’t LIKE his wrathful behavior, that’s why he doesn’t ever confronts it, thus getting better at acting on it or not. There would be something to rationalize himself with and that would do Mike some good. Now, you guys are probably going to laugh, but I’m serious: My Dave certainly represents Lust. Not in the outright sexual way, but he is led by his desire to feel good and happy, all his acts are led by his desires for good emotions and his immortal passions- which also tends to include killing children/building dangerous robots. It’s borderline impossible to make Dave do something he doesn’t want to do already, at least not without talking it up for him. The sinful nature of Lust is that it’s about picking up passions and indulging in them when they’re not helpful or healthy. That oftentimes is sexual in nature, but at its core, it can be a lot. Hell, it even got characterized in a few translations more as “set one's heart upon a thing, long for, covet, desire". He’s the little stupid impulse of doing something anyways, because it feels good and makes you giddy. That could go as far as theft, or to drive on the highway on your motorcycle without helmet, without a care in the world- Yes, Dave always submits to his impulses. Jeremy for sure is sloth. He isn’t EVIL. He isn’t MALICIOUS. But oh dear, he is inactive. What did he do to help? What did he do to find out the truth? No, as long as there isn’t an obvious problem, he stays in his bubble, happy as can be, a foolish boy who thinks making the world a better place is as easy as giving everyone a smile and a hug. He doesn’t understand anything and even worse, he never tries to learn. Any excuse to stay passive is taken. Like I said. Jeremy isn’t evil. But in a way, he is harmful. Now it’s getting less easy. Marion, COULD be envy, that is one of his characteristics, his envy towards the other kids and the guards who get to live and be grown up. But I think another fits just as well! Marion is Gluttony! Sure, usually Gluttony gets associated with food, but technically speaking it is merely over-indulgence… craving more and more of what you already have… and the Marionette certainly is the definition of that. One more row of kids doesn’t hurt. One more row. ONE more row. ONE MORE ROW. What did he think? Why didn’t he leave the spirits well enough alone? Sure, the murder and pain scarred their soul, but they could have rested in the purgatory, instead of being forced to perform in front of audience that laughs at their misery, just to afterwards be confronted with their killer constantly. Really, what would a group of terrified ten year olds really do? Creating an army against Dave and Henry was stupid and pointless from the beginning. But he couldn’t help it, could he? Just a little more. Just a little bit more. Not much, just a little bit extra. Stuffing kids into suit when they could have retreated without losing their sanity, hell, maybe moving on from purgatory on their own… Yet somehow, Marion needed more helper. More kids on his side. More kids he abandoned, alone, discarded because he never needed them in the first place. Gluttony is a tragic sin. Phone Guy is PROBABLY envy? He doesn’t show it a lot, he tries to stay focused on what he is doing and where he is. Though, it’s true, he doesn’t feel bad for the customers and part of that is, because he feels like he has a worse lot in life. Even compared to the kids- yes, they are dead and all, but so is he and he gets watched over 24/7. The animatronics were allowed to murder and fuck up, but he gets threatened with a SECOND death if he misbehaves. It’s unfair. And that makes him spiteful and uncaring. He inflicts misfortune on them with his lack of empathy, born by envy. It’s a sin, for certain, harming so many opportunities they could have helped each other! It doesn’t show itself outright, that makes it hard to pinpoint. But perhaps that is the toxic part. We never really realize we feel lesser than those around us, do we? Thus we can never really deal with such an emotion maturely. No, it shows itself in bad talk, in dragging the person down, attacking them more aggressively on other fronts, where we sense weakness in them. In finding excuses, seemingly good excuses to do harm to the others, to take something else from them, if we can’t directly have what they have. We start looking for the worst in the others, so we can say “sure, they may be/have x, but at also, they’re y, so I’m glad I’m not like them.” Yes, truly, this is the serpent’s sin, the sin of cowardice. Now though, we come to the hardest. Henry and Old Sport honestly are birds of a feather in regards to their sins, but I can’t decide to which I apply which sin. You may say “Of course Henry carries pride, the devil’s sin”. The sin to birth all sin? I don’t think so. I think Greed is the sin of humanity, out of which everything else comes. Hell, everything can be turned into an act of Greed. It would make sense if every other sin has elements of greed, of the desire for MORE, that Henry carries that sin- the others are creations of his making. He and Old Sport share the trait. They want more. More of everything. Drowning in their desire to overcome what they are and grow into more and more, into EVERYTHING. Restlessly searching out more stimuli, more goals, more life! Henry’s desire to be immortal is fully greedy. He wants to live more. Learn more. Experience more. That is also the part that he tries to keep under control the most. He knows it’s his weakness. Meanwhile Old Sport acts on all of these things, gathering things, tokens, then uses those to gather more items, they might become useful sometimes, oh, he wants this and that and he takes it, regardless of how many people it messes up. “More than you need”.   If that isn’t what describes these two, I don’t know what. Though Pride is also very prevalent in both of them. Neither of them thinks anyone else is more important than them. Sure, Old Sport used to and Henry fakes to, but both of them they’re the only ones that matters. Hell, his pride and savior complex led Henry to help a few people out, turning nasty really quickly when he felt replaced by someone who apparently did it “better”. He’s desperate to become the best at everything and he cannot bear the thought of someone being smarter and more capable than him. That is all the more motivation for him to get better, solely to overcome that person. Sure, he’s not canon level Henry, who pretty much killed children to get his doctorate back, but he’s pretty bad. Meanwhile Old Sport solely acts good due to validation. As soon as the praise from the puppet and the ghost children became insufficient, he turned to other things to get his kicks… eventually Dave, who is seemingly endless supply of love, validation and admiration. Hopefully he is right about that, because if Old Sport feels like Dave doesn’t respect or cares about him enough… oh dear. Jesus Christ, even my good route Old Sport is willing to let children die, despite being able to wake and release the puppet, just because he craves being surrounded by admiring and grateful yes. Yes, these two are more alike than either of them likes. You get your pick which of these you think fits best. Every sin has its horrible side, but every sin also has their place within a human. As bad as these things above are, we need a little bit of all of them to be truly human. They have their good parts, even as sins and in the end, perhaps it will reveal itself to those that deal with them. Maybe they get the best out in each other. Or maybe they’re doomed to fall prey to their own vices. If you meet them, then don’t fear them. Know what to do with them. Then maybe they can turn into your most valuable asset.