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scorpioriesling · 2 days ago

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Invisible String - Finale

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution. 18+, MDNI

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: This is the final part! If you've stuck around this long, thank you -- I hope this series was enjoyable and everything you'd hoped it'd be. I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come, however the (canon) NSFW portion of this part can be bypassed & not affect the story in it's entirety! So, if you're not about reading that, I have included warnings in the passage so you know what to skip , but for those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Thank you all for your patience with me as far as this series goes, it has truly been a pleasure to write. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"When's daddy coming back?"

You slide the tray of warm cookies from the oven, keeping a careful eye on the curious girl standing a few feet behind you. Setting it down atop the stove, you push the oven door shut and hold a hand in front of her as she inches closer.

"Stand back Riles -- the oven is really hot, okay?"

She sighs, taking a half step away from the oven and frowning.

"Y/N, when is daddy home?" She asks again. You turn to face her, unlacing your apron and setting it on the counter before kneeling to her level.

"Sweetheart, we talked about this, remember? Just a few more days and-"

Your hand stills from brushing a stray hair from her ponytail out of her face as a knock sounds at the front door. Riley sucks in a breath, her attention snapping toward the sound in the foyer.

"Daddy!" She squeals, and your heart sinks. Before you can grab ahold of her, she's darting for the front door -- but you know deep down, it's not him. He never knocks, its his home anyway.

"Riley... Riley please, wait-" You round the corner, seconds late as her arms strain to pull the front door open. Your heart jumps into your throat as nerves and fear sweep in, anxiety for who is at Eris' home while he would be away.

Silence stretches as you make up the last few steps to the door, pulling Riley behind you as the visitor is exposed at once.

The face before you doesn't exactly calm any of those nerves, though.

"Gram?" Riley squeaks, peeking around your leg as she grips your pants fabric. The older woman smiles warmly, offering the little one a small wave.

"Hello, dear," she turns her gaze to you, surely met with a look of confusion. "Hello, Y/N."

You swallow, dipping your head in greeting. She waves a light but dismissive hand.

"Please -- no need for that. I just came by to say hello," she explains. Riley loosens her grip on your pants, peering around your leg once more.

"Oh," you say, not really sure of the situation. You take a step back, pulling Riley to your side as the Lady of Autumn takes a small step forward.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

✧･ﾟ: *

"...and this one is bunny, my very favorite." RIley explains, extending her stuffed rabbit to her grandmother. The Lady of Autumn takes it, inspecting it with faux wonder.

"Oh wow, my dear, yes -- bunny is quite lovely, isn't she?" Riley giggles, taking her well-loved stuffie back and making to stand.

"Bunny says its tea party time." She states, stepping out of the small circle the three of you had been sitting in for the past half hour and making way to her room. "I be back!" She shouts, making the Lady of Autumn chuckle.

"A quite unique one, she is," she states, her attention focusing back on you. You offer a smile, thinking of all the unique qualities Riley bestows.

"Oh yes, she's always so interested in... well, everything," you laugh. "She's so kind, and full of wonder... so curious about the world-"

"Mmm, just like her father was." She nods once, remembering. "He was quite the handful as a small boy; you've done such a great job with her, she is a very respectful young lady."

Your cheeks pinken, the compliment seeming so opposite to how her husband had treated you mere nights before.

"Oh... that's, well..." you fumble. "Eris, is... an amazing dad. Riley is always wondering when he'll be home next." You shrug. The Lady of Autumn chuckles, placing a hand over yours resting in your lap.

"Indeed, he is," she agrees. You meet the warm browns of her irises as she looks to you. "But, he could never have done any of this without you, dear."

You weren't sure where all this was coming from -- the visit, the niceties, the compliments -- it seemed that just last week, her husband had been so against you being in the picture in any way.

"And," she sighs, straightening once more. "As far as being gone so much, all the missions and errands he must attend..." she trails off, searching for the right words. "Well, let's just say he'll be doing less of that, real soon."

Your brow furrows in confusion as Riley's footsteps are heard bounding down the hallway. In seconds, she's setting down her fancy pink trunk full of plastic tea cups, saucers, you name it. It seems she's also taken interest in her tiara again -- the plastic one, of course.

"Gram, you like tea too?" She asks, working hastily to set out all the place settings. The Lady of Autumn helps, adding a fourth one beside her.

"Oh, yes -- it's been so long since I had a tea party," she says. As though it was the most normal thing in the world, Riley adjusts Bunny to sit behind the fourth place her grandma had set up.

"Ok... let me pour the tea."

✧･ﾟ: *

The sun was setting when the Lady of Autumn declared it was time for her to head back, most of the day spent talking and exchanging pleasant conversations. Along with playing tea time, of course.

"Why leaving?" Riley says, munching on one of the forgotten cookies from this morning. The Lady of Autumn pats her head as they walk to the front door together.

"Well, I need to get back because it's almost dinner time," she explains, and Riley nods. Five year old logic.

You open the door, watching as the Lady of Autumn embraces her granddaughter one last time.

"I'll visit again soon, sweetheart." She promises, and Riley nods in agreement. "Do you want to go put on your pajamas before dinner?"

Her face lights up, remembering the cozy pink footie jumper she'd abandoned this morning. She trots to her room, not thinking twice.

The Lady of Autumn chuckles, making for the entryway when she abruptly turns to you.

"I almost forgot dear -- I brought a few things for you." She says, quickly heading toward the awaiting horse she'd rode in on. You watch as she hauls a trunk of her own back inside, and you watch with confusion as she bends to start unlatching it.

"What's this for?" You ask, and she flashes you a wicked smile from below. The trunk finally gives, springing open to reveal quite literally the smoothest fabrics you'd ever seen.

She stands, pulling a wad of fabric with her and unraveling it to reveal a long, velvet green gown. Golden swirls adorn the neckline and sleeves, as small flecks of golden sparkle down the skirt.

You gasp, and she gazes at the piece adoringly.

"I wore this one," she says, swaying it side to side. "The first time I attended the Autumn Court Ball," she smiles at the memory. "It's surely one of my favorites." She drapes it across the back of the couch, reaching down to unveil a similar gown in peach -- less glitter on this one, but just as refined.

"This one, ooh..." she shudders. "I met Beron while wearing this. We were at a royal luncheon, and," she shakes her head in disapproval. "Ugh, the memory completely ruins that one for me -- though it's a gorgeous work, indeed." Along with the green one, she drapes it over the couch, reaching for another packed neatly inside; maroon, this time.

"Lady of Autumn," you interrupt, your hand reaching to lightly touch her forearm as she holds up the next burgundy piece. "I-"

"Please," she insists. "Just call me Autumn."

"Oh, umm... okay, Autumn." She winks at you, then turning to inspect her gown once more. "I'm just... I suppose I'm, confused." You say, your fingers fumbling with one another.

"What about?" She asks, nonchalantly.

You bite your lip. "I... I don't understand. Giving me these... are you wanting me to keep them for Riley-"

"Oh, Heavens no -- gowns like these are meant to be worn." She says simply, draping the maroon one over the couch and finally meeting your eye. "These, dear, are for you."

Your stomach twists, confusion knotting it into a complicated, ball of yarn to untangle.

"But... why?" You ask quietly. She smiles sidelong at you.

"Because -- they're mine to give. And, I choose you to recieve them." She chuckles, brushing a hand over the dress laid on top.

"I... I thought, typically a daughter-in-law would-"

"And I want you to be the one who has them." She states, looking to you in finality. Your cheeks heat, and you watch as she folds her arms across her chest.

After a moment of silence, you try and form a sentence. "What... what if, Eris marries, and then you'll need these to give-"

"Oh, my dear, Eris won't be marrying anyone else." She shrugs, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Other than you, of course." She looks you straight in the eyes.

"He speaks of you often, so much that I hadn't even realized you'd started simply as a nanny," she elaborates. “I’d been delighted to hear he’d found someone so wonderful after that witch of a woman left him and my granddaughter all those years ago.”

Your face deepens in color, and she reaches for you. "He is in love, Y/N. He truly is." Pulling you into a soft embrace, she sighs delightfully. "And if I’m reading this right, it seems you are too."

You swear your heart could burst as joyful tears prick the backs of your eyes.

"I believe he's finally fallen in true love. With you, my dear."

✧･ﾟ: *

You adjusted the ribbon that tied your hair half-back, looking up and down at yourself in the mirror before you. Usually not one for black, you felt you should wear it -- you were, after all, attenting the High Lord's funeral.

When Eris had returned earlier in the week, he came bearing news -- Beron, news, that is. During this last mission, the High Lord did not return from battle so unmarred as his son, being killed while protecting the Autumn court.

Or so Eris tells you.

He had barely shed a tear since returning. Sure, the High Lord (or, previous? High Lord?) was a pain -- a rude, entitled, royal pain. But, was is son truly so unaffected by his own father's death?

"You look lovely."

His voice is rich from behind you, his hands snaking around your waist as he approaches in a simple black suit. The lack of color is so contrasting to the firey red atop his head, making every freckle on his face stand out against his cream-white skin.

"Well, I hoped you wouldn't say that... we are attending your dad's funeral, rather." You sighed, and he pursed his lips. "I wasn't trying to look anything."

He scoffs, his hands sliding from your waist. "Well, that's unfortunate, because I think you'd look ravishing even in a potato sack."

You can't help but giggle, the thought of him making jokes the day of his father's funeral barely phasing you.

"Shoes?" He asks, heading for your closet. You glance down at your bare feet.

"Yes -- the pointed-toe ones, please, they should be in the back." You straighten your skirts once more, as Eris rifles through your wardrobe.

"Darling I'm not finding..."

The rustling stops.

"Where did you get these?" He asks quietly.

You glance over to the closet, realizing what he has stumbled upon. You rush over, attempting to close the doors before him.

"I... I, uh-"

"These," he says, reaching out to feel the maroon fabric with a soft hand. "These, are my mother's." He turns to you, eyes full of intrigue and... shock?

"Eris... she came by, while you were gone." You mumble. You hadn’t told him of his mother’s unannounced visit, let alone the extraordinary gift she’d given to you.

He stares blankly at the gowns hung before him, looking in awe at them hanging in your closet. "She said... well, she said she wanted me to have them."

He turns slowly to face you, the adoration written all over his face.

"My mother, gave you these?"

"Yes." You whisper. He smiles softly, a tiny blush fanning over his cheekbones. You reach out, your fingers brushing over the warmed skin.

"I can give them back if you're uncomfort-"

"No, no." He smiles, his eyes looking down before he pulls you to his chest. "They're exactly where they should be."

Now, it's your turn to blush. He holds you against him, his long arms wrapped around you as you both take in the garments before you. Your eye catches on the peach one, and you grin up at him.

"You know... I think I may change, before we head out."

✧･ﾟ: *

The funeral was nothing short of what you'd expect -- royals, dressed head to toe in the most luxurious fabrics, weeping and mourning the loss of the High Lord. Fae from other courts attended, extending their condolences to all of the Vanserra family; but, Eris didn't need any. He didn't let a single tear fall for the entirety of the ceremony.

Honestly, the Lady of Autumn didn't either. In fact, she looked truly delighted when she spotted you wearing the new peach gown she'd given to you, murmuring to Eris how she understood his liking to you.

You had to admit, watching his mother get him all flustered and bashful in front of you was quite the entertainment.

What was different was the empty house you returned to afterward -- Riley had spent the day with Autumn's first hand maidens, so you were able to attend the funeral with Eris. He didn’t want her exposed to it all quite yet, instead opting to tell her himself one day when she was a bit older and would understand the concept better. You couldn’t agree with him more — however, Autumn’s offer to spend time with the little girl herself extended to the night following.

"Odd to be here, without those little feet running about." Eris noticed it too. You shrugged off your shawl, kicking your heels off in the foyer before heading for the kitchen.

"Yes, quite odd for this place to be so... quiet." You say, unpinning your hair and allowing it to fall freely over your shoulders. You groan at the feeling, running your fingers through it as you rounded the corner of the island.

Eris follows, setting his cufflinks on the marble and trying (failing) not to allow you to catch him staring.

"Are you.." you begin, after a few quiet moments. "Are you... okay, Eris?"

He looks to you, setting the other metal set beside him and shrugging.

"Yeah," he mutters. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You sigh, stepping closer to him. That gets his attention.

"Eris... you buried your father today."

He purses his lips, his movements stilling as he avoids your eye.

"Are you not upset? At all?" You ask, growing frustrated at his lack of answering. "We've establishled you can talk to me, you know? I mean, you haven't even so much as cried once since-"

"I did it."

You pause. Your heartbeat grows louder and louder in your ears, the only sound between you two are your shared breaths.

"You... you what?" You whisper.

Eris looks up at you, eyes watering as he confesses.

"I did it, Y/N. I... I killed my..." his voice cracks, and he takes a shaky breath. "My own father."

You take a step back from him, and watch as his face becomes pained. You feel that all the way to your heart, as though it's been strung too tight with twine.

"Y/N, please, you have to understand-"

You brace your hands on the edge of the island, drawing in a long breath. From everything you'd heard, all that his father put Eris through -- forcing him into marriage, the degradation-

"It's okay."

You turn slowly, looking to the male beside you. Tears silently stream down his face, his wide eyes searching yours for some forgiveness you didn't need to give.

"It's... okay, Eris." You breathe. "I understand."

His chest shakes, his gratitude evident as fresh tears line his eyes. You inch closer to him, your hand finding purchace on his upper arm.

"It's okay." You repeat. He continues to silently cry, and you guide him to you as you wrap your arms around his neck. He breathes heavily against your neck, and you feel the tightening in your heart once more.

"I didn't think you'd love me if you found out what I'd done," he sobs. You run a calming hand through his hair, scratching lightly as he shakes against your embrace.

"Eris, I... I don't think I could ever not love you." You admit, the weight of the words finally lifting from your shoulders. He pulls back slowly, wiping at his eyes with his thumb.

"You really," he sniffles. "You really mean that, Y/N?" He asks. You smile softly, a wave of emotion hitting you as you come to terms with what you'd known for years at this point.

"Eris -- I loved you the day I met you," you admit, a single tear slipping free and trailing down your cheek. His eyes only widen. "I loved you when you were still married, I loved you even more when I met your daughter, I loved you before I'd barely known you," you explain, more tears falling freely and landing on the front of your gown.

"It's always been you, Eris." You say, and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. You wrap your arms around his torso, crying right onto the front of his jacket when suddenly, a gleaming, golden spark within makes itself known.

You pull back, your hand clutching your chest as your twine-wrapped heart breaks free -- a warm, golden feeling replacing the discomfort instead. You gasp, staring at Eris in disbelief as he smiles broadly at you, tear-stained face and all.

A hand reaches for the counter to steady yourself as you grapple with the feeling -- so familiar, yet so foreign. The light, as though creating a bridge, flows from your end and outward; the feeling returned full of adoration, the purest form of love. True love.

"H-how long have you known?" You ask. Eris steps closer, taking both of your hands in his as he helps you stand upright.

"Well," he admits sheepishly. "Quite some time, but... I believe the night you finally put me in my place, was what did it for me." He chuckles, and you stare up at him in surprise. "And, I'd be happy if you'd keep doing just that for as long as we both live."

Mate. He was your mate.

You look down, the small bead of uncertainty weaving it's way along the golden bridge between the two of you. "Eris, I... you realize, I'm not like you. I'm not High Fae, or-"

"I don't want any one else, Y/N." He admits, squeezing both of your hands and forcing you to look to him once more. "I didn't tell you about the bond, because... well, because you have a choice, too. I wanted you to be able to choose, whether you loved me or not." He sighs. "You have such a good heart -- I didn't want you to be tied to me just because you felt obligated to."

Your lips part as love flows full force down the bond, and you peer over Eris' shoulder. You depart from him for only a moment, reaching for the cookie jar with only a few left in it.

"Y/N, you're sure you don't want to think on it-"

You face him again, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to you at once. Those lips, Gods you'd wanted to press yours to them for weeks -- now, you finally could.

His mouth slides against yours, his hands pulling you against him by your waist as he deepens the contact. You're almost too caught up in the moment, the raw feelings and emotion flowing between the two of you that you-

"Wait," you pull away, gasping for air as he heaves before you. You hold up the red velvet cookie, his favorite of course -- and he quietly accepts it from you. "Please, Eris, I need'nt not think on this decision..."

He eats it in two bites, gazing into your eyes as he swallows the rest of it. When he opens his mouth again, you can't help but smile.

"I'm truly grateful, because I don't think I could imagine this family without you in it."

✧･ﾟ: *

(cue the nsfw; 18+, mdni)

You laid back against the silky maroon sheets -- so familiar, but the feeling was new.

You'd sleep on these for the rest of your life. Together.

Eris hovers over you, his hand sliding from beneath your back as he helped you lie down gently against the sheets. His eyes scan your face, looking for any signs of discomfort. As you look back, his eyes are only filled with hunger. Desire. The need for you -- pure lust.

"You have to tell me... if anything is uncomfortable," he huffs, tugging his shirt over his head. You'd never tire of the sight of his exposed, toned torso -- the wounds from months back now fully healed.

"Y/N," he prods.

"Hm?" You'd been so distracted that you forgot to answer. "Oh, uh. Mhm. Okay." Your fingers slid along the ribbed muscles beneath his smooth skin, and he lowered himself to his forearms. His mouth was on yours again, this time more hungry and feverish than when you'd tangoed down the hallway to get to his room minutes before.

You catch his lip between your teeth, playfully tugging it and he groans, his fingers digging into your hips in warning.

"You're... a wicked little thing," he sighs, sliding the gown over your shoulders and tugging it lower and lower beneath him. He sucks in a sharp breath as your chest becomes more and more exposed; and practically orgasms when you're in nothing but your underwear beneath him.

"Gods, Y/N..." he swears, tossing your gown aside and sliding a hand over your breasts. "I've been... thinking about this, for so long..." He draws his bottom lip between his teeth, eyeing your nipples as they harden beneath his touch.

"Eris... please..." you beg. He chuckles, leaning down to take one in his mouth. His tongue swirls around the hardened peak, making you squeak beneath him. He releases his mouth from you, only to press kisses along your collarbone and eventually, you lips.

"I need you," you whimper, and he smiles down at you.

"I'll give you what you want," he whispers, biting the sensitive skin just below your ear. You squirm, your hands threading through his amber strands.

He descends, pressing soft kisses down your body until he gets to your inner thighs. Kissing each side, he toys with you, holding out from where you need him most.

"Eris-"

"Shhh, pretty girl." He kisses the outside of your undies, the inner fabric already soaked with need. Smirking, he hooks a finger around the lace, yanking it from your soaked core as he looks up at you in awe.

"Such a wet little cunt for me," he growls, diving right in and licking a thick stripe between your folds. You groan, the feeling of his tongue playing with you almost too much in your lust-filled state. He continues to torture you -- sucking roughly on your clit, adding one finger, then two... you're a quaking mess by the time your orgasm racks through you.

He leans back, pleased with his work, and wipes his glistening chin before crawling atop you once more. You push up onto your elbows weakly, but he only tuts at you.

"Lie back down, princess." He smirks, kicking off his pants as his cock springs free. The sight of it makes your mouth water -- so. Fucking. Big.

"Eris, let me-"

"Ah ah ah." He shakes his head as his fingers pull on his throbbing dick, pumping himself at the sight of you. "You can taste me next time -- allow me to make you feel good tonight, my darling."

You bite your lip as he aligns himself with your entrance, ever so slowly pushing the head in. The stretch is deliciously tight, so good you moan as he pushes in farther.

"Fuck, Y/N." He grits out, ever so slowly deepening himself. "So fucking tight..." His eyes squeeze shut before he bottoms out, and he opens them as he pulls all the way out and shoves right back in.

"Eris!" You cry out, his cock stretching you out. His fingers hold tight to your waist, and you can't help but grip his hair tighter as he sets his pace fucking into you.

"So good... so, so good," he grunts. You feel your second orgasm quickly approaching, the heat building in your lower stomach with every thrust he gives you. He reaches a hand up, cupping your cheek as he continues to bring you pleasure.

"My perfect girl," he admires breathily, his thumb sliding along your lower lip. You take the opportunity to open your mouth, sucking his finger inside. His eyes roll back as he speeds up, your groans of pleasure only spurring him on.

He's fucking you so hard, he settles both hands on your waist once more, his thrusts becoming rougher.

"Eris... oh Gods, I'm gonna..." Your mouth drops open, a small "o" shape as Eris groans above you.

"My perfect mate... ahhhh, yes, my mate-" He pushes in to the hilt as your walls flutter around him, hot ropes of cum pumping deep into your cunt. You breathe heavily, watching the gorgeous male above you catch his breath.

He sighs, a smile forming on his face as he rests his forehead against yours. After a few moments of quiet, he chuckles.

"I almost don't want to pull out of you," he admits, drawing a giggle from your lips. You smack his shoulder playfully, and he indeed unsheaths himself from you to lie down beside you on the mattress.

It isn't long before your eyelids feel heavy, the small peppering of kisses along your hairline from your mate sending you into a deep, peaceful sleep.

✧･ﾟ: *

(all clean from here on!)

Epilogue

The warmth from the early-autumn sun kissed your bare shoulders as you walked along, wicker basket in hand. You heard the sound of their voices before you saw them -- always listening, just in case it got too quiet.

"Nooo, Olive -- do not put that yucky grass in your mouth!"

You chuckled, rounding the corner and spotting your two little ones seated in the shade of a large apple tree. You'd only been a few feet away, but even in your absence, Riley took the role of "big sister" quite seriously.

"Mom, Olive is trying to eat the grass again. Really, she's trying really hard this time!"

You approach the honest eight year old, watching as she motions to the tiny tot still seated in the grass. Sure enough, each fist is full of freshly yanked grass. She peers up at you with a big grin.

"No need to worry, Riles." You unclench the baby's hands, and the grass stems flutter back to the ground where they came.

Scooping the toddler up, you place a kiss atop Riley's head. "Thank you for being mindful of your baby sister, and for telling me." You turn your attention to the tiny child in your arms, shaking your head slowly.

"Noooo, eating grass, Miss Olive."

She giggles, a string of spit running down her chin as she grips the straps of your sundress. You sigh, looking to the basket for the spit-cloth.

When you turn, Riley is already holding it out to you, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Here you go, mom!" She beams. You smile gratefully to her, accepting the cloth and wiping the baby's chin. Riley hums to herself, and you pull her close for a gentle hug.

"You're such a good sister, Riley." You admit, your voice thick with emotion. You remembered when Riley was barely older than this, still small enough to carry in your arms. Now, she'd grown a bit -- nonetheless, she was still your little girl.

"Ahh, there's my girls!"

You turn, watching Riley bound down the garden path toward her father, walking to her with open arms. He picks her up and spins her around, her dress-up princess dress fanning out behind her. He sets her down with a kiss on the cheek, and they continue their way to you.

"My dear," Eris grins, pulling you in for a kiss as his hand wraps around your waist. His attention snags on Olive, and he kisses her tiny nose. She laughs, and he beams down at her.

"Miss Olive -- I see we've been trying to eat the grass again." He chuckles, brushing a few stray pieces from her little skirt. She reaches out, and you're happy to allow her father to hold her a bit.

"No strenuous High Lord duties today?" You question with a playful brow raise. Eris laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"No, no my darling -- nothing too taxing today." Your heart swells. Eris had done so well taking on his father's title three years ago, and with so much happening at once -- the fall of Beron, accepting your mating bond, the new baby -- he handled it all so well.

"Olive, lookie! Look what I've found!"

Riley trots over to you, holding a bright orange flower in her hand. Eris sets the toddler down, her hand immediately being taken by Riley as she slowly walks the little one along the garden path.

Eris reaches for your hand, pulling you close.

"This, is a Chrysanthemum. A chris-an-the-mum, Olive." She continues to explain the plant to the baby, who happily steps right along side her big sister, listening intently.

"We truly have the best girls," You say, resting your head on your husband's shoulder as you stroll along behind the two sisters.

He grins, giving your hand a little squeeze.

"Yes, I sure do."

✧･ﾟ: *

71 notes · View notes

kenobiwanx · 3 days ago

Text

Happy New Year!!! 🌟

First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you. Thank you for supporting me and my art. This past year was a good one for me, and that's thanks to all of you!

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live by my art. This is my full-time job—it’s what pays my bills. And 2024 started off great: I received commissions every single month, something that hadn’t happened in previous years. That was a huge change for me, truly life-changing. I’m so grateful to everyone who decided to spend their money on my art, to trust me with your ideas, characters, and stories. It means SO much to me, and I say this from the bottom of my heart. I put everything I have into creating the best art I can for you, truly. When you message me saying how much you loved it and how much my work means to you, I cry for real. It moves me deeply. So thank you for all the kind words and support.

This is going to be a long message because I feel like I need to thank you and share a bit about myself. So, if you read all of this, you're a warrior, lol.

I don’t usually share much about myself or my personal life, but here are a few things. Well, I’m from Brazil—you probably already know that. I’m a self-taught artist, and honestly, I’m like that with everything I know how to do. I love learning on my own with the resources I have available. When I set my mind on doing something, I go all in. Drawing came into my life as a form of therapy, a way to focus on something other than my negative thoughts. I’ve always been a very anxious and depressive person and went through a lot of trauma that made things worse. Since I didn’t have the resources or support to seek professional help, I tried to find my own way—and that’s how I learned to draw!

I won’t say I’m 100% okay now because life hasn’t been easy for me. I lost my mom to breast cancer six years ago, and it had a massive impact on me and my mental health. She was my rock, my world, and losing her was devastating. She fought the disease for five years, and during that time, I was the one taking care of her, keeping the house running, and looking after my two younger siblings. I was just a teenager, but I suddenly had so many responsibilities. It messed me up a lot, but if I had to do it all over again just to have more time with my mom, I would.

I wish she were here to see how far I’ve come with my art because she was the only one who supported me back then. I know she’d be so proud of me for not giving up.

I used to do realistic traditional art before, spending a whole month on one piece. It was fun for a while, but it was just a hobby—I only sold a few pieces to family members. Then, in 2020, during the pandemic, I decided to switch to digital art. I wanted something that gave me more freedom to express myself creatively, and digital art offers that. So, I started learning. And guess who became my muse for this journey?

Yep, Pedro Pascal, lol. From my very first digital drawing, he was my go-to subject. And let me tell you, those early drawings weren’t great, poor guy, lmao. But thank God, I improved! I’m still drawing him to this day, and he’s been a huge reason I’ve gotten so many commissions since most of them are of his characters. I’m incredibly grateful to him and the roles he plays.

Anyway, I’m working on rebuilding myself, trying to move forward, achieve my goals, and take things step by step. This Christmas, I was able to buy a huge drawing tablet, which was a big milestone for me. I used to do everything on a small tablet, so this was a major upgrade—and it’s all thanks to everyone who commissioned me this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I hope 2025 will be just as good. I hope you’ll all stick with me and keep asking for commissions, lol. I wish you all the best in life, that you achieve everything you dream of, and that you stay healthy. Please take care of your mental health too; it’s just as important as your physical health.

I have a lot of personal projects I want to work on this year—art ideas I’ve set aside for years that I hope to finish in 2025.

This year, I plan to open commissions every month. The only exception will be if my waitlist gets full before I open them officially, like who Dm me to reserve a slot earlier, which happened in December. My DMs are always open!

I’ll also be updating my price sheet, adding new information to my terms and conditions, and increasing my prices. It’s been about two years since I last updated them, so it’s time. But don’t worry—it’ll only be an increase of about $10-$15. I still want to keep my art affordable for everyone.

I’ll sort all of that out in the coming days, so stay tuned for updates!

My January waitlist is already open, and there are a few people in line. If you want to reserve a spot, feel free! Just keep in mind the price adjustment I mentioned earlier.

I think that’s everything! I know this was a lot of text, lmao.

Thank you again, everyone! Happy New Year, and I love you all! And I love you, Pedro Pascal!

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mercutio-the-velaryon · 5 hours ago

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Lore about the Interview with the Vampire (Vampire Chronicles) meljayvik AU:

- Vampirism heals but doesn't cure which was just a roundabout way of ensuring my king Viktor is still disabled (I also just think its really interesting conceptually).

- Viktor has no idea who his maker is, all he knows is they abandoned him in the snowy wilderness and that he'd kill them if he ever met them again.

- Viktor is snubbed by the Vampire community due to his "shortcomings" (His disability is seen as an affront to the supposed perfectness required to reach vampiredom)

- As a fledgling Mel moves to a secluded castle in southern Italy, her persuasion powers from jump are pretty intense, and she uses them on the people of a nearby village to maintain her hermit lifestyle.

- Do not ask Mel and Viktor what happened that night in 1976 in New York, they will kill you about it.

- Mel and Viktor's feud begins because they were rivals in a love triangle but it wasn't with who you thinkkkkk.

- Indigenous Mexican Jayce Talis YUPPPP!!

- Jayce is a human journalist with a unique point of view, but is a science kid at heart, he discusses land rights activism in his journalistic pieces a lot.

- Czech Viktor!!

- Mel spends three decades in America from the 60s to the 80s.

- During the 60s, she joins a girl group quits then models for bit and garners little fame for it, vampirism and beauty aren't enough to overcome the racism of time, widespread fame would've complicated things too much anyway.

- In the 70s, she dances on a few episodes of Soul Train and spends her nights singing at underground clubs.

- In the 80s, she joins the Black Rose, a vampire coven that is also a radical art collective, but by the end of the decade, she's back to her recluse lifestyle in a castle somewhere in europe.

- Mel has only sired two vampires... she's not a fan of the process.

- Viktor has killed more than Mel but this is mainly because he hunts mercifully (kills people on their deathbed) and she's a picky eater.

- Viktor's interest in science began during his immortal life. He was intrigued by how technology had evolved so rapidly over time.

- Before that he was a prolific essayist and wannabe poet. His pieces concerned the environment, poverty and the human condition.

- He had two major romantic trysts in his mortal life, both went sourly.

- He fell in love with a human in his early vampire years... that also went sourly. You can thank Mel for that.

- Mel and Viktor meet Jayce at about the same time somewhere during their respective stints in America. Its true bloodlust at first sight for the both of them.

- And did I mention that you shouldn't ask them about what happened in 1976.

Nobody:

Nobody in heaven and earth:

Not a single soul:

The Vampire Mel Medarda in America for some reason:

#Indigenous Jayce Talis is very dear to me #Mel Medarda is THEE Singer in a smokey room #Viktor has witnessed countless horrors I am so sorry!!#Mel and Viktor in their respective castles telling each other to stay off their lawns #and then they kiss about it #they ALLLLL kiss about it #arcane #mel medarda #viktor arcane #jayce talis #viktor #melvik #meljay #meljayvik #jayvik

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fairyofshampgyu · 1 day ago

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FAIRYOFSHAMPGYU’S TUMBLR WRAPPED ! ⋆⭒˚⋆ <3

saw some mooties do this so I thought it’d be fun to do a little one as well !! Anyway, thank you so much for the love on all my fics I’ve written this year !! I appreciate it so much, whether it’s an ask, comment or reblog or like 😭🫶 I find myself always going back to read feedback bc it makes me so happy !! Thank you to all my moots too !! I received sm love this year thank you I forever am grateful !! >_< 🌷 The way I only wrote about 4 fics in total this year (excluding thoughts I wrote) is an abomination 💀…but I had a very busy year and tbh I do love to take my sweet time writing fics. 😭 I also had quite bad writers block. It’s absolutely crazy how fast this year went, it still felt like it had just started…😟 time is my biggest enemy. Regardless, I feel like every year for me gets better and better and I had an amazing 2024. Will 2025 be able to top 🤔 ? I hope everyone has a great year too !! <3

TOP FIC OF 2024:

Me pegged ?! (first time pegging gyu) 1.94k notes !!

I did not expect this to be my most popular fic this year 😭 but I received so much feedback and love for this so tysmm !! <3💞 I just wrote this pretty fast after my exams finally finished and after having terrible pegging beomgyu brain rot and there not being enough fics of him getting pegged 😪 so I did not expect this to reach nearly 2k already but tbh I get it, beomgyu is very cute in this 🤧 so thank you so so muchhh

MY FAV FIC I WROTE IN 2024:

not as tough as you look ! (Sub emo vinyl store worker gyu x vinyl collector reader)

This was incredibly self indulgent 😭 and somewhat based on a true story (there was no fucking 😪) but this is one of my fav fics I’ve written tbh SUB EMO VINYL STORE WORKER GYU ??!! like I still reread this and get giddy as if I didn’t fucking write it myself 💀 was made by for me LMAO

FAV FICS I READ IN 2024:

I barely read this year bc I was so busy ☹️ so there’s not much, I still have a big to read list to catch up on so many fics but pls pls give me some recs. istg there were way more favs than this and I’m just pulling my hair trying to remember but there’s also a lot still on my to read list so yeah

Star studded baggage (yeonjun, Soobin, beomgyu x reader, reincarnation au, celebrity au, series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Not finished but I remember highly enjoying this, such a good unique plot, well written, funny and I’m a sucker for reincarnation aus tbh

What a loser ! (sub, brat stoner gyu) @hyewka

short but I remember I was gagged by this. Love the idea and bratty sub gyu eating you in a skate park 😩 smut was tew good

backrow theatre (subby gyu x dom taehyun x resder) @boba-beom

SUBBY GYU AND DOM TAEHYUN. Enough said. 😮‍💨

Mogi & Nabi (college au, childhood best friends beomgyu to lovers series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Loved, loved this fic very much. I wrote a lot about this when I reblogged it yesterday 😭

Divinity for the damned (fallen angel dom gyu, horror, smut) @koqabear

Such a unique plot, so so well written and I love how dark it is and the idea of fallen angel beomgyu

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I (sequel series to yamqn, reincarnation au, switch gyu, series,) @wildernessuntothemselves

another fic I very highly enjoyed reading this year also cried to when it ended lol. The whole entirety of this story and prequel is one of the most compelling stories I’ve seen on here it could literally be like a drama or book and I was so sad that it ended 😭 so well written I love the story.

sub gyu drabble (sub gyu, public, vibrator plug) @hyewka

THIS IS SO GOOD AND YUMMY 😩😩 still come back to this

hybrid puppy gyu thought @wildernessuntothemselves

Still come back to this too, just the love the idea I love puppy gyu

An Ironman (sexbot gyu, sub gyu) @niningtori

Beomgyu was so cute in this and unique plot again, enjoyed reading this v much !!

Violets are blue (beomgyu, hanahaki disease, angst) @niningtori

This was so good and sad when I first read this. I CANNOT handle angst 😭😭💔 everything I read of niningtori puts me into cardiac arrest bc theres so much angst 😭 buts it’s all good bc I love the pain

night lounge (jazz bar, dom beomgyu, bassist gyu) @beomie3

JAZZ BAR, BASSIST GYU SMUT ?? Sign me tf up. Love the idea very much. I wanted to make my own jazz bar smut fic for ages too so I love this great minds think alike

Switch to me (beomkai x reader smut, sub kai, dom gyu) @chyuuiung

I WAS GAGGED !! THE FIRST TIME I READ THIS I fucking love beomkai why aren’t there more beomkai x reader smuts I will literally eat them all up. This was hot

Pretty princess (time travel, royal au, princess reader, fluff series) @beomiracles

Been a while but all I remember was that I had an exam the next day but I binge read the entirety of this. It was very cute and beomgyu was so silly 😭 and I love the plot and enjoyed reading it all

MY GOALS IN 2025:

- write a fucking yeonjun fic 😭 I cannot believe I have never written one. I am a failure. I had one in the drafts this year but then another writer wrote something pretty similar to it and I didn’t want to seem like I was copying 😭 so I’ve let it go. But best believe, I will fucking write that yeonjun fic. 💪‼️ I just need some more ideas.

- in general, write more for txt members 😭 I’m sorry guys beomgyu is my muse and it comes so easy and enjoyable writing for him 😪 I am terrible at going out of my comfort zone. But I do have a drummer college au kai fic in my drafts !!!

- read more fics !! I didn’t get to read as much this year but I hope to read lots

- write a super long fic - literally all my fics are so short 😞 idk how you guys do it but I’m in awe

- interact more with moots - the way I’m not close with any of my moots 😭 ily all though I’m terrible at interacting and socialising I’m so sorry but I will try 💪 I want to get closer to more of you 💞

THAT’S A WRAP ! <3

#nia speaks !#tumblr wrapped #tubatu!<3 #beomgyu !<3

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zara-renata · 3 hours ago

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So I had one holiday prompt that I couldn't include in the big holiday prompt fic I posted last week, and I also have been receiving some really sweet and cute ideas that weren't exactly requests, but the ideas were so nice that I wanted to write something for them. I've gathered them into one story that I hope isn't disappointing. I had intended to do separate, cute little drabbles, but I had a bad day the other day and somehow uh, really dark angst happened, and then I used the ideas people sent for the comfort half of the fic? So please forgive me for just... taking it as dark as you can go before including the sweet, cute ideas that people requested. I hope you like the result anyway, although please read the content warnings. Several of the people who sent requests/ideas apologized for doing so, as if sending the ideas was 'too much', but you don't have to apologize for sending asks. My requests are open, and I like seeing everyone's ideas even if I don't end up being able to write for them, or if I tweak them a little to make them work for the story that comes out of my brain despite my best laid plans to stick to an outline.

The river | ao3 | masterlist

It's Christmas Eve, you're at the end of your rope after an absolutely awful year, and you decide to end it all after pushing everyone in your life away. Sylus pulls you from the brink and convinces you to keep going.

Sylus x fem reader, Sylus x mc, hurt/comfort, angst, grief, banter, fluff. CW: attempted suicide, depressed thoughts, NSFW, Sylus penetrating reader (this is not sex ed, do not follow these idiots' example, no discussion of condom or birth control, this is fantasy and we're not going to worry about that in the fic)

Ask #1 You asked to keep sending silly little ideas for you to write so I thought I'd give my own request! After Caleb and Gran (supposedly) die it's pretty much canon that MC refuses help from their friends and isolates themself in certain ways. I always imagine MC sometimes sees Sylus as "the only one they have left" since he is the only one who goes out of his way to check up on MC. But MC kinda grows to resent this and has a moment when their drunk/really going through it and basically ask Sylus why he doesn't leave them be so they can just rot away in peace. Sorry if this is too lengthy or I'm overstepping! Brain worms are getting to me

Ask #2 Okay, so random thoughts here, but do you know that superstition that’s like, “the places where you have moles on your body show where your lover kissed you in a past life”? But like… can you imagine what it would be like if MC had a mole in the exact spot where Sylus bit her during Abyssal Mark (cus I have one there lol) and then that superstition randomly gets brought up, only for MC to show him that mole and Sylus is just s h o o k??? N e way that’s my random thoughts lol (sorry if this is a lot 💀)

Ask #3 I love the way you write the MC and I find myself relating to them at least 99% of the time. Sometimes I just imagine them giving Sylus one of those "Do you like me? Circle yes or no!" Love letters to Sylus because they are terrified of rejection -> i wrote the MC in this story really, really depressed, so if this didn't hit the spot for you in terms of fear of rejection, let me know, and I can include your prompt in another story idea I had before this one that's a lot lighter and sweeter before I got hit by the angst truck that this fic turned out to be. just let me know!

Ask #4 the last holiday prompt! -> idk if anyone sent it yet but from the xmas prompt list, i would love to see what you do with number 8 -> I'm so sorry that this is what I did with it, I hope you like it anyway😭

Thank you everyone who has sent me ideas! If you've sent me a request and I haven't answered it yet, it's because I'm still intending to do something with it.

Here you are. Again.

At the end of a long day. A long week. A long year.

A long rope.

It’s the dark, this time of year.

Maybe.

You’re restless. You’ve passed through the Deepspace Hunters Association doors for the last time this year. Empty days of leave stretch before you.

Normally, it would still be light out, leaving this early. But not now, this deep into the year—it’s already full night, as you leave work early.

The bright lights of the building pour over your upturned face as you look back, just once. You don’t know what for. You’ve successfully severed most of the ties you had built before.

Before everything.

Tara, Xavier. After Caleb, Josephine—they reached out, over and over, and you bit their outstretched hands with your sharp, sharp teeth.

You snapped enough times that they keep their distance, now.

They’re still kind.

Tara still comes, sits on your desk, shares tidbits of gossip during the workday. But she no longer invites you along to karaoke, to after-work drinks with other coworkers.

You and Xav work in sync, as you eliminate wanderers. He walks you to your door at the end of the day. But he no longer offers to lend you books. No longer invites you to the bookstore, or to try new restaurants.

You watch his broad back as he walks away from you, down your apartment building’s hallway. He feels as far away as a star in the velvet night sky.

It’s not their fault. You did this.

You wanted this.

You turn away from the warm light beaming from the Association as you leave early, the Christmas lights glittering in the windows, the holiday party you’re skipping still in full swing in the open, sleek company restaurant area on the ground floor. A division-wide shindig, to celebrate the end of the year, the holidays.

The night is cold. Fairy lights, nets of bright pinpricks in the dark night, cover the trees lining the sidewalk. Decorative light displays stretch across the busy road at periodic intervals, over the canals that parallel the streets, the gondolas and tour-boats festive under their own lights, red ribbons flapping in the cold winter wind.

You think about how they never recovered a body.

Only Josephine’s ashes fill an urn, sitting in a cold niche of a quiet columbarium. Caleb’s urn is empty.

You start walking, fast, along the busy sidewalk. People are out shopping, scurrying to tie up last minute errands before the city shuts down for the holiday tomorrow.

You want to unzip your coat. Unzip your uniform. Unzip your skin, your ribcage. Leave all these pieces of yourself behind, for others to puzzle over. To sweep up with the rest of the refuse left over from festive party goers on the street. You want to dissipate in the cold winter air like your breath with each cursed inhale, exhale.

You settle for beginning to jog to the metro station, your feet carrying you faster, faster, your boots heavy on the sidewalk. You see it lit in the distance, but you can’t stand the thought of being underground right now. Buried alive, with all the other people. You sprint past it.

You’re graceful enough to duck and weave, not disturb anyone else, until the crowds thin.

You’re running, running, the city is streaming past, like the tears from your eyes. Wet from the cold, because you haven’t cried since waking up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s silver chain glittering in the firelight on the walk up to your grandmother’s burning house.

Tears won’t bring a body back.

You don’t know how much longer you can stand this.

The days, one after another. Alarm, moving through the dark to get to work. Moving through the dark to get back to your apartment at the end of the day.

The pain—your only constant, now. The only thing you expect, have to look forward to, day after blurred day.

An echoing emptiness, like an urn without ashes. An emptiness that feels so full that your skin could burst with it.

You think about your apartment. The festive city outside its windows. The half-opened bottle of wine in the fridge, the only thing in it.

You veer from your neighborhood. Keep running. You’re sweating under your winter coat, your heavy Hunter uniform. It doesn’t matter.

You run, and run, and run, until you run out of streets, sidewalk.

Just the river, wide and black. There is a bridge, soaring over the water, in the distance. Its lights reflected in the water, along with the urban nightscape. Stars above, stars below.

You could drown in them.

You look at the bridge.

You could drown in it all.

There’s no one left, after all.

Who will miss you?

You slow. Stop.

Your breath is heavy in the quiet air. Fairy lights sparkle here, too. Pretty swooping light displays top each lamppost along the river path.

You would have gone to identify the body, as you did with Gran. She didn’t look like herself. Not even a sleeping version of herself. They did their best, reconstructing her face. But it wasn’t the stitches, the bruising. It was that she simply wasn’t there anymore. Like a stranger’s body on display. An empty house after the residents have been forced to flee in a night of unimaginable violence.

But running your hands through her hair, one last time. It soothed something in you. Enough that you could breathe in the cold mortuary air. Could nod. Could watch as they covered her again. As they escorted you out into the bustling hospital hallways, to stand under cold fluorescent lights. To stare vacantly at the wall, until you felt a strange, familiar feeling. You looked up, saw Zayne watching you, at the end of the long hallway. You stared at him, memorizing his beautiful face. His dark hair. His severe, cold loveliness. You let yourself look one last time, and he let you. Through the people filling the hallway, each walking with purpose, they were a blur and he was across the world, across time, a part of your past that should never have reappeared in your present. It hurt too much, to look at his beautiful, distant face. He left you behind, once. He should have stayed gone. You can’t stand to experience the loss again, the loss you felt every time he listened to your heart, expressionless, a stranger with a beautiful, familiar face from your past, a past in which Caleb was still alive.

You looked at Zayne one last time, across a bustling hallway in a place full of life, of death, and he let you. You then turned, headed to the reception desk. You switched doctors, hospitals.

You blocked his number, so you’ll never know if he sent you a text, tried to call and ask why, after. He let you walk out. Which is as it should be.

You wanted this.

The water churns under the whipping wind, the fast current. It looks so cold. Cold enough to numb. Cold enough to finally put out the fire that’s been burning in you, ever since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace shimmering in the flames.

You think of running your hands through his hair. Something the fire robbed you of—it would have been your first time, your last time. He would pat your head. Call you pipsqueak. Ignore your protests to not mess up your hair, to not treat you like a little kid. But he would always duck out of the way anytime you tried to return the favor, tease him, tousle his hair. His pretty brunette hair that always looked so soft. Now you’ll never know how soft it really was.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. The car headlights meteors streaking along their guardrail-gated orbit.

You think about going home. Waking up tomorrow, Christmas Day. The silence. You think about going back to work. Killing wanderer after wanderer. Wondering which one will be the one to finally kill you.

The days blur. The constant emptiness echoing inside your apartment, inside your ribcage.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. You imagine running your hands through Caleb’s hair for the first, the last time. A tender goodbye you’ll never have, because they never found his body.

There’s no one left to miss you.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You fish it out.

Rafayel no longer calls, or texts you words. He just sends photos, every once in a while. Mundane details of everyday life, rendered extraordinary through his artist’s eye. Paintings he’s working on. A foreign landscape. Leaves glistening with dew. The moon, waxing full.

You haven’t answered in months. You look at each one, tuck your phone back in your pocket.

You look back at the water. Think about taking a photo of the reflected stars, the thin crescent moon in the black waves, think of sending him one last response. But even you’re not that cruel. You don’t want him to realize later, that he was the last one to say anything to you.

You don’t open his text. You block his number. Tuck the phone back into your pocket.

You start to walk toward the bridge. As you walk, you keep your eyes on the path, its edges. Decorative, smooth stones line the walkway along the river embankment. You pick them up, here and there, as you walk. Slip them into your coat pockets.

Eventually you run out of room in your coat pockets, add more to your pants pockets.

You turn your eyes back to the bridge, looming now.

You think of your empty fridge. Josephine’s empty face. An empty urn.

You’re ready to scoop out what’s left of you, leave it behind on the sidewalk, smoldering as the cold night finally smothers the endless fire, the only thing left inside you. Maybe it will warm someone else, in passing. A last good deed, from you to someone in the world.

A metal staircase, leading up, up, into the black sky, mirroring the dark river, your heavy boots echoing. The cars are loud. If you close your eyes, they could be the rushing waves of an ocean, instead of a river of traffic, above a river of water.

You keep your eyes open. You’re not going to pretend that you’re not doing what you’re doing, now. You’re not at the ocean, its pure salt air drifting through your hair, now whipping around your face. You’re on a busy, exhaust- and oil-stained commuter bridge on the night before Christmas, having cut your ties with everyone you have always known never wanted or needed you in the first place. What’s the difference if a wanderer kills you tomorrow, or if something kills you today? Just empty time, blurry days, photo frames without pictures.

The guardrail isn’t so high as one would guess. It’s an easy step up. An easy step over. You stand, looking back over the city where you were raised. The city that contains all the past versions of yourself, from the moment you were pulled screaming into life from a mother whose face you’ll never know, through to now, an empty shell of a person. If your fellow hunters could see inside you, they’d mistake you for a wanderer and put you down, like the scientists who experimented on you, your own grandmother, did years ago.

Since learning that Gran was one of the people who fucked with your heart, you have often resented that she and her colleagues weren’t successful in finishing the job years ago, when they had the chance.

But now you wonder, standing over a dark, freezing river that reflects what’s inside you now, maybe they did finish it. You just didn’t realize it. Not till tonight, as you look down in the mirror of the rushing water, far below.

Even now, the tears won’t come.

What use are tears, when they can’t bring a body back. When they can’t wash it clean. When they can’t lovingly touch it, one last time, soft strands of hair under your fingers.

Your tears, your heart, your suffering, your existence—useless, for the entirety of a life you can only half remember.

You wonder if it’s the dark, tonight. Why tonight, and not yesterday? Why not six months ago?

Because it took that long to sever the ties binding you here?

Now you are assured, no one will miss you. It will take days before anyone even notices your absence because of your holiday leave.

You hope that they’ll assume it was a wanderer. Bad luck. Wrong time, wrong place. A modest little plaque on the wall of heroes, even though you know you’re no hero.

In the end, it doesn’t matter why it’s tonight, and not any other night.

No need to be dramatic, pretending there’s meaning in the meaningless.

You put your hands on the guardrail, the metal colder than your freezing hands. You lift a heavy booted foot. Take a deep breath.

It’s so cold. It will be over before you know it. You’ve read that from this height, it’s the impact, and not the drowning.

You’ve always had dreams of flying.

You lift your other foot, arms thrown wide for balance, just for a moment. The world feels so big, here at the end. The stars above, the stars below, the doubled crescent moon. You’re ready to drown in it all.

You only have one hope.

I don’t want to be reborn.

You breathe, empty your mind of Tara’s earnest smile, Xavier’s soft laughter, Zayne’s steady hands, Rafayel’s flashing violet eyes. Josephine’s empty face. Caleb’s soft, untouchable hair.

You let yourself fall.

You’re flying. Your heart is soaring. Your heart is seizing. The relief, the terror, mingle. You can’t scream, even if you wanted to.

You’re flying and it’s everything you ever dreamt, until it’s not.

Your body jerks, abruptly. Your hair whips down, lashes your face. You grunt with the impact against… nothing. You’re suspended over the water, drifting in the air. The wind tugs at your stone-weighted coat.

You twist away from the water, craning your neck to look up, up, back at the bridge.

You have withstood the uselessness of tears for almost a year now. But now, you want to cry so badly the pain of the need steals your breath.

You knew he was cruel. You knew he was merciless. You knew that he hated you. You just didn’t realize how much, until now.

You hang suspended over a dark, rushing river, wrapped in scarlet and ink tendrils, looking up into the sneering face of the one person you refused to think about as you made your final decision tonight, at the end of your desolate, half-remembered life.

His evol begins to lift you, away from the merciful impact, the numbing water. You, your past, your heart, the memories and despair and stones filling your pockets seem weightless, wrapped in his power.

His usual mask of bored indifference is gone. He is finally showing you his true face, what he must always feel when he looks at you—fury and disgust.

He says nothing, as he pulls you from the depths, back into the world. As he sets you gently back on your heavy feet on the sidewalk in front of him. His evol evaporates, winter breath in the wind.

He looks at your face with his wine-dark eyes. Looks at the water. Flicks his gaze back to your face.

You will not cry in front of this man. This man who hates you so much he won’t even let you seek the peace of death. Death, which has always been too good for you, but not for the people you loved the most.

You clench your jaw as the fire re-ignites in your chest. The flames you had tried so hard to scoop out, to leave behind.

You don’t want to feel this much anymore.

If you speak, you know you’ll cry. You can’t stand it.

Maybe, with enough repetition, he’ll get bored. He gets bored so easily, after all.

You turn, try to launch yourself over the guardrail again.

This time, it’s not his evol, but his arms that wrap around you, pull you back from the fall.

You struggle, throwing your elbows, kicking, throwing your head back, hoping to catch his perfect nose, break it under the hardness of your stupid, useless skull.

He says nothing, just holds you tighter, wraps one arm around your waist, the other over your chest, his big hand cradling the side of your face, pressing your head back into his own chest, as he hunches over you, an immovable wall of warmth. As you fight to break free of his hold, you are wrapped in his scent—cloves, gun oil.

Sylus.

Eventually, you tire yourself out—despite all of your strength, it is no match for his. He holds you against himself easily, as you pant, lungs burning with the effort, the sweat warm once again under your Hunter’s uniform. You become aware of a whimpering, the keening of a wounded animal.

It’s coming from your throat. Your eyes burn. You go limp in his arms.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. A voice like warm liquor in your veins. You think he’ll let you go. You prepare, hoping you can get to the guardrail again. Maybe this time he won't be so fast. But instead of releasing you, getting away from you as fast as he can, the arm around your waist moves up, cradling your upper back. He scoops his other arm under your legs, holds you against himself like you’re a delicate princess, if you were anyone else. But because it’s you, he’s probably just holding you like a useless sack of shit that would be too annoying to drop. He begins to walk, his stride steady, brisk.

He looks down into your face. “I bought a dress for you. Silk. A design like stars over a flowing river. That’s the only river you’re allowed in tonight, kitten.”

You stare at him. His breath puffs white in the cold air. The face of disgusted fury is replaced by his usual bored mask.

Why is he doing this to you? He wanted to kill you, just a few months ago. Why not let you do the job for him?

He is the only person in your life who didn’t take the hint. Who kept showing up, after you made it clear that you didn’t want their presence anymore. That you couldn’t handle the ties, because ties become nooses, snapping your neck when the other person leaves you behind.

When he showed up where you were, in a ‘coincidental’ meeting on the street, on a jog, you would turn, move in the other direction. He would match your stride, doggedly pestering you with questions, asking you about your evening or weekend plans, telling you silly stories from the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran’s latest antics. Sometimes he’d just walk in contemplative silence, thumbs hooked through his belt loops, or jog quietly next to you, never losing his breath, never complaining about the pace.

When you would routinely see him at various restaurants you were headed to in order to pick up takeout, you’d leave your food, immediately turning and hurrying away. When the same food was delivered to your door half an hour later, you’d refuse to answer, letting the confused and irritated delivery man leave. A half hour after that, the same man would be back, yell through the door that he had instructions to leave the food even if no one answered, and then he’d make good on his promise. You were faced with the choice of either letting the food go to waste, or eating it guiltily at your kitchen island.

No matter how many times you told the delivery person of the almost daily packages you received with no return address that you didn’t want to accept delivery, they would always insist that their instructions were to deliver regardless of recipient response. You were welcome to bin the items after receipt, but if you didn’t accept, the packages would just pile so high outside of your door that you couldn’t reach your apartment anymore.

You would accept, and then donate whatever exquisite item was inside to women’s shelters, children’s homes, university museums, soup kitchens, fundraiser auctions. No matter how clear it was that you wouldn’t accept anything from him, Sylus never stopped sending you gifts.

When you were sick, he’d show up personally, barge into your apartment when you were too tired to look at the doorbell camera before answering, a duffel bag gripped in his big hand filled with fever reducing medicine, homemade soup from his home chef, painkillers, hot water bottles, cooling pads, muscle pads, vitamins. He’d lounge on your couch, manspreading, insisting that he wouldn’t leave until he saw you swallow the pills and drink a gigantic glass of water.

He’d wait until you lay back down on your messy bed, until you fell asleep. He’d be gone when you woke again, but your apartment would be clean and your fridge and freezer would be stuffed full of healthy pre-prepared food.

You were half-convinced he was just buttering, fattening his prey before getting bored and mercifully ending its life.

Tonight, you are now fully convinced.

“Did your tongue freeze in your mouth?” he asks, descending the stairs you had just walked up, thinking it was your last time ascending them. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth to warm it up again?”

You scowl at him, at how appealing the idea of Sylus’s tongue in your mouth is, even now. You hate yourself, your traitorous body for being drawn to him, even now. “What’s the point of talking, when you never listen?” you grind out, your throat sore. You hadn’t realized how much your animal wailing had wrecked your throat. At least the tears are no longer so close to the surface that they’re threatening to spill.

“I listen to every word out of your beautiful mouth,” he counters serenely, with that same inexplicable kindness that makes your heart hurt. So at odds with how you know he must really feel about you. “I just listen to more than your mouth in order to hear what you’re really saying.”

“What?” You stare at his beautiful face, the way the lamplight illuminates its sharp features for a brief moment, before the night swallows it again as he moves between lampposts on his way… somewhere. Back the way you just came from.

He spares you a glance. “Your mouth says one thing, while the rest of you is screaming something else.”

You feel the blood draining from your face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

One corner of his beautiful mouth lifts. “Don’t play dumb, kitten. You’re too smart for it to be convincing.”

You were just falling into the river. You were just about to be free. How did you get here again? In this man’s arms, his smug, roguish smile filling you with the unease of being seen.

“I mean, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more honest about the fact that you want people to fight for you, right?”

You begin to struggle again, shame lancing through you, making your body unbearable to be in. You know it’s weak, to have wanted so desperately that the people you were carving from your life would see what you were doing and stop you, place their hands over yours holding the cleaver, gently push it down, down, until it dropped from your grasp—how desperately you wanted them to step into your space, hold you tightly, just like this man who sees right through you is holding you now. You wanted Tara to keep inviting you out with your ridiculous colleagues, to sing your heart out at shitty karaoke clubs, to forcibly drag you to sleepovers and arcade nights. You wanted Xavier to push himself into your apartment, try to bake something horrible in your oven, sheepishly offer to go to the bakery with you instead when the fire alarm inevitably went off. You wanted Zayne to walk through the crowd to reach you at the other end of the hallway after you identified Josephine’s body, to ask to take your hand, to ask how you were doing, even though you knew you wouldn’t have been able to answer. You wanted Rafayel to keep inventing excuses for you to visit his studio, to keep insisting that he needed you to accompany him to expositions and fancy lunches as his bodyguard.

But none of them did in the end, and that’s okay. You kept pushing them away, because your terror of their leaving was apparently bigger than your need for their presence in your life, and at least if they were already gone, as they inevitably would be, you’d finally be free.

But the last person you would want to see this utterly humiliating need inside you, exposing you like this, is the one looking down at you right now with deceptively soft, all-seeing eyes.

You know the feeling, this need, of pulling away and pulling away and then being heartbroken when people finally let you is weak, and pathetic.

You may experience weak and pathetic feelings, but you’re not weak or pathetic. Not at your core. You were prepared to do what was necessary, to save yourself from the pain of your emptiness, the fire raging inside your chest. You weren’t asking anything of anyone. You were doing it all on your own.

Not a burden.

Never a fucking burden.

You clench your teeth, buck in Sylus’s arms.

He just holds you tightly, a straightjacket for the insanity that you’re feeling, the insanity of this man, out of all the people in your life, stripping you of your masks, flaying you so that all of your most tender, shameful parts are exposed to both him and yourself.

“Stop that. You’re just going to tire yourself further, when I need you tonight.”

Of course. The quid pro quo. He helped you with the auction, the Aether Core. Now you owe him. He doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die—he just can’t let one of his assets destroy itself before it fulfills his purpose.

You go limp in his arms. Turn your head away from him.

He continues his train of thought. “No, it wouldn’t kill you to tell the truth to your friends, so you decided to take matters into your own hands, huh? Telling the people in your life that you actually need them wouldn’t kill you, so why bother, right, when you can just jump off of a fucking bridge?” His voice sounds like the night you met him. Controlled anger. Disgust. Accusation.

Then there’s something wrong with her.

You thought you had killed everything inside of you already. The yearning for human connection. The kindness of a friend. Family holding you in their arms. You thought you had scooped out most of it, even as some of it rekindled when he pulled you back from the fall.

But the way you’re hurting now, at the memory of his hate, the reminder that the people you love won’t fight for you even if it would be fighting against you, and that this man, for all of his false generosity, never cared for you from the beginning, that his gifts and his visits were all what you knew them to be, all along—a bored predator toying with its prey before using it and consuming it.

You let your thoughts drift back to the bridge, push your pain away. Feed it to the fire. When he’s done with you, maybe you won’t even have to jump.

“Just shut up, Sylus. I’ll help you with your problem tonight. Just promise me you’ll toss me over yourself, when you’re done with me,” you tell the night, because you still can’t bring yourself to look at him.

He stops walking. The wind is so cold against your face. You wish he’d snap your neck, right now. You’re so fucking tired.

“Look at me.” His voice is low. Menacing.

You watch the water. Wonder how long it would take if you just walked out into it, without jumping. Just walk in with your stone-weighted coat and let the cold paralyze you, the current pull you under.

“Look at me, my heart,” he whispers. The change in his tone, his bizarre endearment, has you turning your head, looking up into his face. “That is one promise I can never make you.” He looks like he’s in pain. You don’t know why. He leans down, rests his forehead against yours, hunching his big shoulders, lifting your body in his arms so he can meet you. His breath is warm against your lips. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

You want to snort. It’s rich, coming from him—the same man who is telling you not to tell him to shut up, after all the things he said to you as he starved you, strangled you.

“Please don’t tell me to kill you. To hurt you. That hurts me.”

You stare up into his face. See the sincerity in his eyes. The wind whips your hair. He wasn’t upset that you told him to shut up, but that you asked him to kill you? “What does it matter? Aren’t you going to, in the end?”

“Why would I stop you tonight, if I wanted you to die?”

Of course he won’t answer outright. When has Sylus Qin ever answered a direct question?

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Why bother stopping me, unless you just need to use me and then be done with me? I can’t be that irreplaceable. Just get someone else to put on the dress, and let me get on with my fucking life. Someone who you can train to say just the right things, at just the right time, who’ll look good in whatever fancy shit you want to put her in. There’s gotta be easier idiots than me to serve your purpose.”

He closes his eyes, breathes in the cold night air. When he opens them, you have to look away. You can’t handle whatever is in them. “I know I hurt you, when we first met. That I said cruel things to you. I’m sorry.”

You laugh, even as your heart wrenches at this strange apology. Of course he doesn’t explain what offended him so much about your existence at the beginning. Why he treated you exactly how you deserved. Probably just whatever he saw when he used his Aether Core on you. He saw the echoing chambers of your empty, fucked up heart and was enraged that it was you, and not someone worthy, who would absorb the Aether Core. “There’s never been any need to varnish the truth, Sylus. You almost choked me to death the day we met. You should have fucking finished what you started,” you sneer. “Why does no one ever finish what they start?” You think of Josephine, her researcher cronies. Think of Caleb, his promise to return, the last text he ever sent you. Your fucking parents, who you will never know.

You don’t expect an answer.

And yet, you’re surprised when Sylus wordlessly releases his hold on you. Lets you slip from his arms, sets you back on your feet. You settle in your heavy boots, the weight of your coat, the stones in your pockets, grounding you to the earth.

The lamplight shines in his silver-sheened, wind-tousled hair. His cheeks are red from the cold.

Of course. Of course.

No tool is irreplaceable.

You’re not irreplaceable.

You finally said the right thing, to push him away.

This is it. This is it. This is it.

Your mind returns to the bridge. Your hand is holding the cleaver, dripping with the blood from the last unwelcome tether to your life.

You try to memorize his face, just as you did Zayne’s, but for some reason looking at Sylus’s face hurts you so much more despite having known him for so little time. Just a sigh, in the timeline of your life. The warm glow of his irises. The softness of his lower lip. The pride in his shoulders, his nose.

Maybe you didn’t want to think of him before jumping because you had fallen in love with him, despite the fact that any affection he offered was counterfeit—the steady way he breathed next to you on a jog, the way he spread out on your couch, his dry humor, his intelligence, his piercing gaze, his kindness that was actually more cruel than if he had just tossed you out and never bothered to look for you again after the auction.

You knew it was fake. You knew it was calculated. You knew that the reality was, because he had told you from the very beginning—

Don’t tell me that you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?

Clearly you’ve read too many fairytales.

And yet you had believed, in the bright moments of receiving his kind attention, in the fairytale. Just for a heartbeat. A raindrop, splattering on the ground.

You thought that you couldn’t bear to see what it looks like when Sylus finally tires of you pushing him away, and stops reaching out, as everyone else has.

But with just a few words, you’ve finally managed to do it. He set the burden of you down, and now he’ll walk away, replace you with some other beautiful, breathing tool.

You learn in this moment that you actually can bear it. You can bear anything, as long as you know that very soon, you won’t have to bear anything at all.

“You wanted the truth?” you say, suddenly, the relief flooding through you that the worst has happened, that you’re now actually free. You think of the fabric of the dress, liquid stars over a night river, and wonder whose body it will caress, with Sylus’s big hand on her waist, his gentle fingers drifting across her collarbone, his forehead pressed against hers, for whatever ruse he needs to run tonight, on Christmas Eve.

He grows still. Watches you carefully, as if searching your face for a trick. You look back at him steadily, scooping everything inside you out, letting it splatter onto the sidewalk, here along this dark riverbank.

“Will you give it to me?” he finally asks.

“As a parting thank you gift, for cutting me loose.” You nod. Take a shuddering breath of the frigid air. “Here is me telling you the truth: you should treat the woman who ends up wearing the dress you got with more gentleness than you did me at the beginning. You could have the world eating out of the palm of your hand, if you skip the cruelty at the beginning and just treat people the way you treated me in the last few months. She’ll do anything for you, I think, if you do. Because somehow you made me love you, despite our beginning. I could bear to cut everyone else loose but you.” You laugh, and the sound is like icicles snapping, shattering on the ground. “Thank you for doing it for me, instead. It’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

You smile at him.

You don’t know why you’re surprised that he just frowns deeply, brow furrowing.

Well. That’s okay. You never expected him to be pleased to see your face, smiling or not.

“Good luck, Sylus.”

You turn, begin to walk back the way you came, for the second time tonight. Your thoughts are already at the bridge. You’ve been falling for months now. Soon you’ll finally hit the crystal water and shatter.

You hope you won’t be reborn.

“You said you love me.” His deep, low voice is carried by the wind.

You stop, turn your head. “Stupid, huh?” you ask, wondering if he wants to pour salt into the wound you just willingly exposed to him.

“Why would you love someone who treated you the way I did?”

You turn fully, face him across the night, one last time. “You’re so fucking funny. I’ve always appreciated men who can make me laugh.” You shrug. “And I’m a pathetic fool. You pretended to be kind, and I lapped it up like the thirsty dog I am.”

He tilts his head, takes a step towards you. “That’s all?”

You take a step back. You don’t need him and his pretty face, his delicious scent any closer to torment you.

You offer him more truth. “Of course not.”

“What else?”

You sigh. “What does it matter? We’ll never see each other again.”

He shakes his head. “Indulge me.”

So salt, it is. You press your fingers into the most tender part of yourself, peel yourself wide open. “Your cleverness. How sweet you can be when you want something—strangely pliant, for such a big, powerful man. The self confidence you have. I could say, do anything and you did so well pretending to never be embarrassed of me. You made me believe, very briefly, that you really wanted to be with me, do anything, go anywhere, just because I was there. It’s quite impressive, really. I can see why you’re so good at business. You’re competent. You’re beautiful to look at.” You pause, shake your head in turn. “But you already know all that. You know why you’re loveable. You made me feel cherished in a way that no one ever has, even as I was pushing you away. But honestly, those are just parts of you. They don’t fully cover what it is about you that makes my heart ache when I look at you. I love you because you’re you. Even hearing your name makes my heart race. Seeing your shoes in my foyer, because they were on your feet. The curve of your wrist, because it belongs to you. I know it’s pathetic, and stupid.” You shrug again. “Can’t help it, though.”

He stares at you.

You prod him. “Is that enough?”

“How can you ask if that’s enough, when it’s everything?”

You look at him in confusion. “Huh?”

He takes a step towards you, frowning. “Are you only telling me all this because you think I’ve finally given up and allowed you to push me away, because I set you back on your feet?”

You take a step back, as he takes another step forward.“What do you mean ‘I think’ you’ve given up?” You squint at him.

“Did you only tell me all this because you’re going straight back to the bridge to try again?”

You take another step back at the intensity of his face, his question. “What does it matter? You don’t have to worry about what happens to me after this.”

He takes two steps. “You tell me you love everything about me, and then you plan to fuck off and leave me alone again?”

Okay, this was a mistake. You don’t know why he’s mad, but he’s mad again. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what else to say. You’ve been sorry your whole life. This is yet another miscalculation. You should have just left. What did you think would happen if you told him how you feel? That he’d be happy about your pathetic heart bleeding pitifully for him?

He strides over to you, his long legs outpacing your own. “If you’re sorry, don’t fucking do it.”

“What?”

He looks down into your face, so close you can smell him again, you can see the fine lines around his eyes as he frowns. “If you’re really sorry for loving me, for ever meeting me—which are the only things you have to be sorry for, then make it up to me by staying. Don’t leave me. Don’t push me away anymore. Just stay, and love me.”

You huff. “Are you really that desperate for help tonight?”

He lifts his hands, places his palms on your cheeks, his long fingers dipping into your hair. “No, I’m desperate for you tonight. It’s Christmas—I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do. I want to spend it with you. You made me watch you jump off of a goddamned bridge. What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?” He sounds so upset. You’ve never seen him like this. The fear is naked on his lovely face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What does it matter? You said you could get someone else for the dress, for tonight.” You’re so confused. Why is he acting like this?

“I didn’t say any of that. You suggested that I replace you with someone else, I set you on the ground to make sure you were looking at my face, that you were listening to my words when I told you that you’re irreplaceable. That no one else will do. That after watching you almost die, I can’t continue being cautious and trying not to frighten you away anymore.”

“You… what?”

“You love me. Right? You weren’t lying?” he looks uncertain, like he can’t quite believe it.

You can’t bring yourself to lie. The truth is out. You’re witnessing the fallout. There’s no point in backpedaling. “Yeah.”

He nods, once, decisively. “Okay. That’s enough.”

You sigh in relief. Maybe he’ll let you go, finally, finally.

He checks his chunky watch, the platinum flashing in the lamplight. “There’s still time.”

“Time for what?”

“For my plans tonight. Come.” He closes the distance, sweeps you into his arms again, cradles your body against him like something fragile.

“What plans? Listen—” you start to argue.

“No. Now it’s my turn to speak, and for you to listen.” he squeezes you tightly. “Today was the last day you spend alone. If you can’t live for yourself, then you can live for me, until you remember why you want to live for yourself again. No matter what you say, or what you do to get rid of me, it’s not going to work.”

You can’t even process what is happening. “What are you—?” you begin, but he cuts you off again.

His voice is strained, rough. “You love me. So you have to take responsibility. You have to stay.”

You don’t know what to say.

I’m desperate for you tonight.

You can’t believe this. He hates you. He has hated you from the beginning. He was so kind to you because he wanted to use you for something he never bothered explaining to you. He needs you for your resonance, your amplification of his powers.

You’re irreplaceable. No one else will do.

Because of your resonance?

I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do.

He carries you along the wind-swept riverbank, through the frigid night. Stars above, stars below.

You made me watch you jump off a goddamned bridge.

You didn’t think anyone was left to care.

You were so careful, severing ties like arteries, so that you wouldn’t leave the world with more pain than you found it. It was already bleeding so much.

You just were so tired of bleeding with it.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Sylus carries you to the edge of the river’ embankment, where the concrete falls away, drops into the water.

He sets you down again, but doesn’t let you go. His big hands slide down the outside of your coat, dip into your pockets.

He pulls out a smooth stone. Turns it in his hands.

“I’ll never understand how someone so light can weigh so heavily in me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.”

His ember eyes flick back to yours. He hands you the stone.

“This is your conviction that the world won’t miss you, if you’re gone. You will hold it in your hand, one last time. And then you will throw it in the water.” He wraps your cold fingers around the stone. Somehow, his fingers are still warm.

You grasp it, look up into his face. You see yourself in them. It hurts, to be seen so clearly. You’re so ashamed. “How did you know?”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head a little. Opens them. “I looked into your soul, the day we met. I know you’re too soft-hearted in this life to kill yourself if you thought it would hurt someone else. You don’t carry that spite, anymore.”

In this life.

Anymore.

You can’t bring yourself to ask him what he means. You only know that once again, Sylus Qin has seen inside you, has seen you, in a way no one else ever has.

“But I don’t think anyone would miss me. I made sure of it.”

He huffs. “You’re a fool, if you actually believe that. The people you’ve pushed away still love you. But if you can’t believe that yet, then you can’t pretend to yourself that you’re disposable anymore, if for no other reason than I’m standing here now, telling you that I would miss you.”

You think of Tara, sitting on your desk, nudging a steaming latte she got for you on her way to work toward you, asking if you’ve heard the latest about Simone and Andrew.

You think of Xavier, walking you to your door at the end of a nasty wanderer encounter, reaching out, brushing a bit of mud off your cheek, then smearing it across his own cheek. See, we match now.

You think of Zayne, waiting across a busy hallway, patient, letting you choose to approach him, and respecting you by letting you walk away.

You think of Raf, the beauty he shares with you with every photo, the funny strings of emoji that don’t demand an answer.

“How do you know, that they would miss me?” you ask Sylus quietly.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, sweetie. Do you think I haven’t seen your friends’ faces when you walk away from them?”

You clutch the stone in your hand. “I don’t think I can change my thoughts, my conviction, just like that.”

“You love me, so you have to try. Throw it. Every time you try to drag it back up, I’ll remind you that you threw it away, and you can let it stay at the bottom of the river.” He reaches up, caresses your cheek with his fingertips.

You want to cry. You want to cry, because you’re so afraid. If you let yourself believe that people love you, you have to stay, for them. You have to feel, every day, the weight of grief, of existence, the pain of being alive, of being inside yourself, your body. The hollowness will return, even with your friends, even with Sylus filling most of it.

It’s like he can read your thoughts as his eyes devour your face, as his fingers tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I won’t let you pretend, anymore. You love me, and I will not survive if you aren’t here with me. So you have to stay. We don’t have to accept that life is a curse. We can fight back. Make it something better.”

“I’m scared,” you say.

His eyes are so tender, as he watches your mouth form your biggest truth, set it free in the night. “I will protect you, until you can protect yourself again. There’s nothing to be afraid of, if we’re together.”

You want to believe him. Your heart beats painfully behind your ribs. The moon is a sharp crescent in the sky.

But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.

“You’ll really stay?”

He finally smiles, a faint Sylus smile that feels like a grin. “I told you. Today was the last day you’ll ever be alone. You can’t get rid of me now, no matter what you do, or say.”

You turn, holding the stone in your cold hands. You think of all the lies you’ve been telling yourself, about your friends, your place in their lives, because you were so tired of living with an unnameable grief, one you carried inside you long before Caleb and Josephine died, but whose loss compounded, made unbearable the original sorrow.

And I will not survive if you aren’t here with me.

You don’t know why he feels this way. Does he love you too? He hasn’t said so. Can he even love you, in the way you love him?

Does it matter?

It’s enough, that he says he’ll stay. That he wants you to stay alive. That he’ll help remind you, when the whispers drift back in your mind, telling you that you’re just a burden, that no one actually loves you, would miss you when you’re gone. When the hollowness echoes so loudly it’s all you can hear.

You lean back, lift the stone, throw it as hard as you can, as far as you can, into the rushing river.

You don’t hear its splash over the wind.

You turn back to Sylus.

He dips into your pocket again. Pulls out another stone. “Your guilt, for having lived. For having been born.”

You take it from him. Let your mind drift. Feel along the contours of your memories, the jagged, missing pieces, all the way back to when it fades to black. You throw the stone.

You don’t see it sink to the riverbed.

He dips into your pocket again. “Your shame, for needing others. For being human, and imperfect. For not being able to do it all alone. For wanting to be loved.”

You take the stone. “Is it really okay?” you ask, helplessly. There’s no point pretending everything he is saying isn’t true. “To want these things, when I haven’t earned them?”

He steps closer to you. Places his hands on your shoulders, draws you in. “There is no okay, or not okay. There is no crime and punishment, no transgression, no sin. How can it be shameful, to want what you were born to want? Why does love have to be earned, instead of just given?”

You lean into him, press your face into his chest, his thick wool coat soft against your skin.

“I don’t know.”

He reaches into your pocket, places a stone in your other hand. “One for your shame, one for the idea that love must be earned. Throw them.”

You lean back again, and it’s already too far away from him. But you throw each stone, and they disappear under the cold water.

“That’s enough, for now. We’ll take the rest home.” He draws you back into his arms. Lifts you without effort, stone-filled pockets and all. The weight of all of you. “When you have thoughts of shame, of guilt, of not being loved, we’ll come back. You’ll throw them again. Until they’re all gone. We’ll gather other stones, when other feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.”

Sylus carries you along the path back to the road that snakes along the river. His motorcycle gleams under a bright lamppost.

He settles a helmet on your head, checks to make sure it’s secure. Puts his own on. You sit behind him, cling to him. Rest your head against his broad back, close your eyes. The motorcycle is loud, and he drives it carefully through the busy, holiday bustling streets, until he reaches your apartment building. He holds your hand as he leads you through the front doors, as he stands quietly beside you in the elevator, his red, warm eyes never leaving your face in the elevator mirrors. He leads you to your front door, waits patiently while you unlock it with your cold finger.

In the hallway, he kneels at your feet, unlaces your tall boots while you look down at him, the soft fall of his silver hair, his big, nimble fingers working the laces.

He then removes his own boots. His coat. He’s wearing a garishly bright Christmas sweater, with prancing reindeer. He hangs his coat on a peg in the wall. He turns, slowly unzips yours. Eyes flicking between the zipper and your face. He gently lifts it from your body, again like it’s weightless, even though it’s still filled with stones. He pulls it from your arms, hangs it next to his.

He pulls you further into your place.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. It’s so warm, like someone came in while you were gone and turned on the heating.

The next thing you notice is the Christmas tree. The one you didn’t get this year, because the thought of the holidays without Caleb and your grandmother was unbearable.

Beautifully, tastefully decorated. Silver and gold, twinkling lights. Its pine scent fills your place.

Sylus moves to a record player on one of the cabinets along your living room wall. A record player that wasn’t here before you went to work today. He fiddles with the arm, and suddenly Joni Mitchell’s River fills your house.

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He walks back to you. “Is this okay?”

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Whoa I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The music flows around you, paralyzing you. You stare into his face, into the warm glow of his eyes. How could you have missed this? The way he’s looking at you now? Through all the long months since the auction?

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The words wash over you, through you. The scent of pine warms you, memories without form filling you with the sense of home, safety, love.

I made my baby cry

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

Now I've gone and lost the best baby

That I ever had

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He takes your hands in his, thumbs across your skin. “Is it too much?”

You think of how cold it was, standing on the guardrail of the bridge.

You were running toward the bridge, while Sylus was filling your home with warmth.

What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?

You think of him spreading out on your couch, as a fever raged through your body. You think of your freezer, filled with food. You think of the takeout boxes, still steaming, sitting in front of your closed door.

You think of him hanging delicate ornaments on a fragrant tree.

I made my baby cry

You shake your head, the enormity of what almost happened filling you. The enormity of the choice you made, that you enacted, until Sylus pulled you back from the rushing dark.

You start to shake.

“Kitten?”

“It’s not too much,” you say, teeth chattering. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He stares down at you, seems to make a decision. “Shower. Now.”

You nod, moving away from him, but he follows.

Inside your small bathroom, he takes up the entire space. He peels off your hunter’s uniform, tosses it beyond the open bathroom door. His gaze flicks from your undershirt, your underwear, to your face. “Do you want me to leave?”

You think of the dark water, an impact that never came. Sylus plugging in the record player, choosing a record with one of your favorite Christmas songs on it. Placing it delicately on the turntable.

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again.”

He smiles a little. “I mean, leave the bathroom.”

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again,” you repeat.

He stares into your eyes. Nods. Lifts your undershirt. He reaches behind you, unhooks your bra with the same agility that he unlaced your boots. He lifts it from your body, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales.

You shiver.

He tosses the bra behind him. Kneels. Pulls your underwear from your hips, down your legs. You step out of them. He stands again.

He leans over, his ridiculous, festive sweater soft against your cheek, as he reaches past you to turn on the shower faucet. As he messes with the knobs until steam begins to fill the small space. He nudges you forward, past the sliding glass door and into the small shower cabin, letting the hot water pour over you. You turn, watch him through the clear glass. He picks up your underwear, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales as he did with your bra. His eyes close for a moment, and then open. He tucks the little slip of fabric into his pants pocket, sits on the closed toilet, rests his elbows on his knees, and continues to watch you.

You let the hot water flow over your tired, cold body. You stare at Sylus’s face, let it fill your vision, blot out the rushing river, the impact that never came, the idea of everything you would have missed, if he hadn’t pulled you out. Everything you would have missed, in such a short amount of time. What else would you miss, if he hadn’t caught you? If he could give you so much within an hour, how much would you have missed in a day? In a week?

What have you been fighting, this whole time?

Just yourself.

You think of the stones at the bottom of the riverbed, instead of your body. Your conviction that you’re not loved, your guilt, your shame, instead of you.

You stare at the man who handed you each one, and told you to get rid of them, instead of yourself. The man sitting in your tiny bathroom, filling it with his big body, his even bigger presence, staring at you, staring at him.

You stop shaking.

Reach for the body wash, lather your hands. Run your hands along your body, under your armpits. He frowns, eyes on your hands. You palm your breasts, dip between your legs.

He lowers his head, eyes still on your hands, rests his full lips on his long steepled fingers.

You finish lathering your body, let the water wash it away. He’s too far away, even this close, on the other side of the glass.

As you turn off the water, he stands, lifts one of your towels from the rack. Holds it out for you. You step into it, him, let him wrap it around you. He turns you both, so that you’re looking in the bathroom mirror, which is mostly fogged.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod, soaking in his warmth at your back, the steam of the bathroom.

You have a question, a question you can’t bring yourself to say out loud yet.

You reach out with one hand. Trace a finger through the fogged mirror.

Sylus watches you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

Letters, a question.

Do you like me? Circle yes or no

Sylus smiles again, lifts an eyebrow. He reaches out, takes your hand in his. He circles no with your finger.

You frown, heart sinking, but Sylus just whispers, “Patience, kitten,” and flattens your palm across like. Guides your finger again, just above the erased like, drags it through the moisture in an elegant script.

love

He then gently sets your hand down. Lifts his own, circles with one long finger, yes.

He watches your reaction in the mirror.

You had no idea.

This whole time, you had no idea, even though he was showing you, with every ‘chance’ encounter, his pestering you with questions about work, life, his silly stories about the N109 Zone. His packages at your door. Fever medication, a big glass of water shoved into your hands.

You think of the rushing water, what almost happened. What you almost missed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me believe you still hated me?”

He looks down at you now, away from your reflection in the mirror. His eyes trail your face, down your curved neck. He palms the back of your neck, his thumb drifting along the side, over a mole there.

“Have you heard of the myth that where we have moles is where someone kissed us in a past life?”

Even if so much has changed between you in just the last few hours, you’re reassured that Sylus Qin still can’t answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer.

You shake your head. “No, I had never heard of that.”

Sylus smiles, and it looks a little sad. He leans down, presses the softest of kisses against your skin, the mole there. “Like most human legends, it’s a pretty lie. Not quite true.”

You laugh. “I could have guessed as much.” You tilt your neck, enjoying the press of his warm lips on your skin for the first time.

He opens his mouth, runs his teeth over where he just kissed you. Bites, gently.

You shiver again. Press your neck into, instead of away from his teeth.

He bites harder.

You gasp.

“I was afraid I’d frighten you with the enormity of my feelings for you, when in your mind, we’d only just met,” he murmurs against your neck, his saliva, the indentation of his teeth hot on your skin.

He bites again, presses himself into your ass through the towel. You realize he’s hard.

You forget about the last part of his sentence. Had you not only just met?

You lift your hands, let the towel unfurl from around your body, let it drop to the floor.

You almost died tonight.

What have you been fighting this whole time?

Just yourself.

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

You turn in his arms. He’s breathing hard, cheeks pink.

“You love me?”

He closes his eyes. Opens them. Shakes his head. “Love isn’t intense enough.”

“Adore me?” You lift your arms, wrap them around his neck. Pull his face closer to your own.

He shakes his head again. “Still not enough.”

“You won’t survive without me?” You lift on your toes, his soft sweater almost unbearable against your sensitive nipples.

He nods. “You’re getting closer. Can’t breathe without you. When I saw you jump…” He swallows, thickly. “You might as well have pulled me down with you, beloved. If it ever gets to be too much again, take me with you. I’ll never leave you alone again. Promise me the same,” he demands, big, calloused hands running up your naked sides, the fabric of his dark jeans rough against your body, where your thighs meet, as he helplessly nudges against you again with his hips, his hard dick behind his zipper.

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

“I wouldn’t have known, unless you told me,” you breathe against his lips. “Promise that you’ll tell me how you’re feeling from now on, and I’ll promise to take you with me if I can’t leave the stones in the riverbed, even with you here.”

His voice is deep, rough like the fabric of his pants against your sensitive skin. “Deal.” He closes the distance, presses his soft lips to yours. Licks into your mouth.

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

His hands drift down your sides as his tongue dips into your throat, as he swallows your noises of pleasure, just from kissing him, his hands on you. He grips your ass, urges your legs around his waist. He carries you out of the tiny, steaming bathroom, manages not to knock you against the doorway, or into any furniture on the way to your bedroom, even as he continues to kiss you, as your hands in his soft hair probably block his peripheral view. He lays you down on your bed, the puff of your duvet. It’s so warm in your place that you’re not even shivering. You watch as he pulls his cheerful sweater and undershirt over his head, tosses them to the floor. As he unzips himself, hastily yanks down his pants and boxers, his socks. He blankets you with his big body.

You wrap your arms around him, pull him tightly to you, arch your breasts into his chest. He leans down, runs his nose along your cheek, inhales the scent of your hair at your temple. You just feel each other, for a long stretch of time. His soft chest hair against your skin, the silken skin of his dick between your thighs where he just leisurely rubs himself against you, as your palms run down the muscles of his back, the line of his spine. You’ve refused to think of him like this, ever since he wrapped his hand around your throat. You couldn’t bear his beauty, through all the long months that followed. You fled, every time your heart raced at the flash of silver as he approached you, met you where you were, over and over and over.

But now he says he has loved you, through it all. That he’ll never leave you alone again.

You let yourself feel him, under your hands, under your tongue, as you lick into his ear, feel him shiver. As you squeeze your thighs together, offering him a tight, snug space for him to keep pleasuring himself, as you feel your own wetness begin to coat your inner thighs, his cock, the longer you feel him on top of you, inhale the scent of his skin, the ever-present gun oil, the cloves, his clean sweat underneath it all.

After a lifetime, or only a few minutes, he leans down, says softly into your ear. “I want you. Tell me you want me too.”

“Can’t you tell?” you ask, bucking a little, squeezing him with your legs again.

He makes a low, pleasured sound in his throat. “I want to hear you say it. You’ve gone through a lot tonight. I need to know you actually want this. That you’re not just—” his breath hitches, as you move your hips again, as his dick slips between your wet, soft places. “That you’re not too tired to say otherwise, not thinking straight.”

“Use your Aether Core on me. Then you’ll know that my body is telling you what my mouth would, if I said the words.” You smile at him, teasing.

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

You had wanted to fly. You had settled for flying for a brief moment, before shattering.

But Sylus is offering you constant flight, under, over, along his crow’s wings.

You think of the rushing water. The tide of cars behind you, the wind whipping your hair. You almost missed this. You don’t want to waste any more time.

He lowers his forehead to yours, breathes, speaks against your saliva-slick lips with his own. “I don’t want to use my Aether Core on you. I want the words in your mouth, in your heart. I want your free will, your freely given consent. I almost lost you because I tried to force you, at the beginning. You believed I hated you, this whole time. Don’t ask me to force you again, my heart.”

You understand. You accept his request, his demand. “I want you, Sylus.”

He exhales, shifts above you, slips his wet cock between your legs, slides into your body with gentle, firm, graceful waves of his hips.

You whine, the feeling of fullness layering into the pleasure of the warmth of his skin, the taste of his tongue. For once, the feelings inside you threatening to burst out of your skin are so good, instead of painful, so pleasurable, that you can barely stand it.

He kisses you, his velvet tongue big, heavy in your mouth. You suck, whine again as he lifts a hand, palms your breast, begins to thrust into you.

You are filled with him. His warmth. The size of him.

You widen your legs, wrap them around his thick ass. Urge him with your own body to move faster, to fuck you harder. He gives you everything you want. Just the pressure of his body against yours has you coming, the release bright, sudden—you shake with it.

Your pleasure seems to trigger his. He grunts, roots into you, buries his teeth in your neck, bites where he bit you before, over the mole on your neck. The sting makes you clench, and he whimpers, groans, comes with a jerk of his hips.

He slows, still filling you, still pleasuring you, as he lifts his head to look into your eyes.

You stare at each other, breath mingling, warm between you.

You smile at him.

He smiles at you. Nudges your nose with his.

“Can we do that again?” you ask.

He laughs, low and surprised. “Yeah,” he says, kissing you softly. “Just tell me, and I’m yours, anytime, anyplace.”

“I’m telling you.” You move your hips, feel his cum drip drown your ass. Feel him gasp at your movement.

“Now?” He’s surprised again.

“Problem?” you grin at him.

“Fuck no.” He kisses you, hard. Slips out of you. Flips you over, lifts your hips with one big hand, pressing his other between your shoulder blades.

He presses his cock back between your legs, the slide easy and wet, and fucks you until you come again, until he blankets your back with his sweat-slicked, matted-hair chest.

“Was that enough, your highness?” he teases.

“I’m telling you,” you pant, wondering what he’ll do.

“As you wish,” he murmurs, before flipping you again. Before watching your face as he slowly, leisurely works himself, his cum into you, makes you come again.

In the morning, the sky through your windows is heavy, dark, gray. You wake slowly. Turn your head, find Sylus’s sleeping face next to yours on the pillow. He’s lying on his stomach. You take in the dark sweep of his lashes, his generous mouth, slightly parted.

You slip out of the bed, use the bathroom. You wander into the living room, gaze at the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights.

It’s Christmas.

Caleb and your grandmother are dead.

But you’re still alive.

Your body aches from Sylus’s efforts, but it feels good. For once, it feels good to be inside your body. To breathe deeply.

You think of riverstones, sinking deep in the riverbed.

You know that the feelings tied to them will try to rise, clawing to the surface again.

We’ll gather other stones, when your feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.

Your eyes drift to the top of the Christmas tree. It’s empty.

“I thought we should finish it together.” Sylus’s warm arms wrap around you from behind. He leans over your shoulder, kisses your cheek softly. “Do you want to do the honors?”

You smile, wrapping your hands over his forearms around your waist. “You’re taller.”

“Use me as much as you like, kitten.” He turns, grabs a pretty golden glass tree-topper from your kitchen table, hands it to you. He lifts you up onto one shoulder, easily, and you fit it gently over the highest point of the tree. He holds you against him, as he lowers you. You slide along his body, until he sets you gently on your feet again.

You both stand, admiring it for a moment. It’s beautiful, like the rest of the decorations.

You hug him, look up into his face.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles down at you, ruby eyes twinkling with reflected light from the tree.

You would have missed this moment, and all the moments like it, if Sylus hadn’t stopped you last night. You shudder, hug him more tightly.

You know your feelings will return. That no one person can solve a lifetime of wounds. But you promised him that you’d try. That you’d stay. You can only do your best.

You hear your phone vibrating, reluctantly pull away from him, head to your coat in the hallway where you thought you left it last night, but Sylus stops you. He points at your kitchen island. Your phone is lying on the counter. You look at him in confusion, but go to check it.

You’re shocked at how many missed texts you have.

From Tara.

Xavier.

Your eyes widen.

Zayne, who you thought you had blocked, months ago.

Rafayel, who you’re sure you blocked last night.

Each one is a response from a text you never sent. Telling them Merry Christmas. Telling them you love them. Telling them you hope to spend time with them soon.

None of them shame you, call you out on your behavior of the last year. Even Zayne simply suggests that you try a new bakery, that you’ve been in his thoughts, that he’s relieved you felt comfortable enough to reach out. Rafayel sends a bunch of firework emojis, suggests blowing shit up on the beach for New Year’s.

You turn to Sylus.

He looks steadily back at you, silver hair sleep-tousled, wine-bright eyes glowing.

Your eyes feel hot, and you realize you’re crying, the tears fat on your cheeks, dripping down your neck.

This is the first time you’ve cried since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace bright in the reflected fire.

Sylus walks over to you. Leans down, licks the tears from your cheeks with his warm tongue, one after the other. He kisses you, ignoring your suddenly snotty nose, your morning breath.

“If it’s too much, we can take it slow. We can throw more stones in the river. But please answer your friends. You need them. And you’re a fool, if you can’t see that they need you too, if that makes you feel better about your own need.”

You continue to cry as you wrap your arms around Sylus’s neck. As he gently sways with you, to music that isn’t playing. He hums, and you think it’s Joni Mitchell’s The River, but you can’t be sure. You smile against his chest.

A thought occurs to you.

“Last night, you said there was still time. That you had plans for us, a pretty dress for me. What did we miss?”

Sylus sighs, holds you closer against himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

You stop, look up into his face. “What did you have planned, Sylus? Are you sorry we missed it?”

He smiles at you. “Oh yes, so sorry I got to spend all night fucking you instead of going to a holiday concert featuring the organ.” His voice drips sarcasm. “But we can go tonight, if you’d like to make it up to me.”

You laugh, bury your face back into his chest. “And here I had planned to suck your cock while watching a black and white Christmas film marathon tonight,” you say forlornly. You smile into his chest as he chokes. “Oh well, the concert it is.”

He just laughs, rich and deep, and continues to sway you slowly in your living room.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Sylus says against your hair, in your pine scented apartment, as snow begins to fall outside your windows, as your phone continues to vibrate, filled with the love of your friends.

Here you are. Again.

You’re so grateful, to be here, again.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #my fanfic

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blueberrybeomgyu · 1 day ago

Note

It's 🍒 anon again,

Can I please get some headcannons of sub leehan? Can you pretty please include something with reader jerking him off. If you can't that's okay, thank you for answering anyway.

I really like the idea of taking leehan apart slowly. (Omg can I get some milking in here too? ). Making him sit back hands held against his sides as you milk his cock dry.

I wanted to include that I really think leehan has a skinny but lengthy penis, because i know you fuck with that.

I like to think leehan, really has a thing for watching you jerk him off. It makes the pleasure more intense for him.

Okay I'm done bye bye -🍒

HIHIII CHERRY NONNIE <333 MWAHMWAH some headcannons about jerking leehan up oh this is soooo up my alley

leehannie would be the absolute best to take apart slowly, he's a patient person and prefers sex when there's no rush to it, both of you like handjobs cause they're often a bit more relaxed than other positions

my fav handjob position is wraparound, leehan sitting in your lap on the bed or couch, head leaning back on your shoulder, and he's definitely watching every moment as you touch him, he wants to see you flick your thumb over his head and rub the sensitive spot below it, seeing it happen just heightens the pleasure so much for him (and i just read the part of your ask where you LITERALLY SAY THE SAME THING we are so on the same page rn cherry nonnie)

i also love the idea of jerking him off when he's pressed against the wall, hips chasing the friction of your hand while you kiss him and swallow his little noises, but i think a position like this works better when you guys arent home and are in a little of a rush, so let me fr not get sidetracked

i agree that leehan has a longer penis (i do fw that!!) that's a bit thin in size, he likes watching the slow strokes of your hand over the entire length, he personally likes the way his dick looks and it's a huge confidence boost to know that you do too

i think leehan's a bit of a toucher, if you want his hands put up you'll have to remind him a few times because he's a fidgeter, he'll wrap his hand around your arm or wrist, or he'll dig his fingers into his own thighs, or he'll hold onto yours for support, he's just a touchy boy in moments like these

id give anything in the world to milk leehan,, he doesn't mind not knowing how many you plan to pull out of him tonight, he'll just go with the flow, and his deep voice will get all soft and whiny, he babbles a lot when he's overstimmed but he's never really saying much, just a repeat of please and so good

i think out of all legal line members, he'd probably enjoy overstim the most, how mind numbing it feels and how you're working him through orgasms over and over, he likes when you pay special attention to him like that!!

#YAYYYY LEEHAN MY PRETTY BOY MY PRECIOUS BOY #i love how diverse the member choices have been #i love you guys mwahmwah #my little helpers #blueberrybeomgyu #fruit basket 🧺જ #cafe helpers 🧑‍🍳જ #anon 𐙚💌: 🍒#leehan hard hours #leehan hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #boynextdoor hard thoughts #leehan imagines #boynextdoor imagines #basket: leehan 👽જ

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 day ago

Text

Major Blog Update: Inbox Cleared, Life Updates, a big thank you and More!

First of all the big one:

The deed is done...The Inbox is dead.

Long live the inbox.

To get a fresh start, I've deleted the current inbox of all my asks.

The inbox memes, the nightmares...they're finally over...

ANYWAYS, feel free to send in any request you may have as per usual, just figured I clear that damn thing finally out considering I've had asks that are three years old in there.

Right now I'm really getting into Honkai: Star Rail since Natlan kinda killed my enjoyment of Genshin, but those gals I will still love and write for (I mean, I'm sure as heck not changing the blog url) so don't feel discouraged if you came to this blog because of my Genshin content. And of course my other fandoms are still good to rock and roll!

One last thing before the cut:

I want to thank EVERY ONE of you for following this blog and sticking around with my goofy ah for so long.

I genuinely get excited to read any message or request you put under my posts or inbox, whether it be feedback or joking around! And I know we have the memes going on about me being drowned, please know I do genuinely take the time to look at every single one that comes in everyday, even if I didn't say anything or respond. And it means the world to me that ya'll like my writing enough to continue asking of me.

You all are the reason I even put the effort I do in this blog for so many years, from my newer followers to those who have followed me since my first blog. I could not ask for a better group than ya'll.

From the bottom of my heart, thanks, and let's have a great year together!

ANYWHO: For those who care enough, this is what's been going on with me for the last few months.

Work:

As for why I've been absent for a while: simply put because I work a retail job. Thankfully nothing too bad, it's just normal scheduling and it IS work I very much enjoy and get paid relatively well. My love for writing is still very strong as is my simping, so no worries, I don't plan on going anywhere.

I DO greatly apologize for making everyone wait for literally ANYTHING, doubly so if you had an ask I didn't get to yet. I wanted to honestly save everything into my drafts, but alas I could only choose some select ones.

You're more than welcome to send it back in, and since things have calmed down I SHOULD be getting to them a lot faster.

Genshin:

In regards to what I said earlier about Genshin: Natlan kind of killed any enjoyment I had playing, characters were REALLY unappealing to me, it made my friends stop playing so therefore I stopped as well as that was the major reason I still had it installed. I don't really plan on adding anyone from Natlan or anyone else from that game in the future, so apologies if you were looking forward to that from me specifically.

Star Rail has been filling the hole in my heart and honestly? I have a lot more writing freedom writing the gals from there, but again, don't feel afraid to send me any genshin request! I still simp for my Mondstadt women after all.

Other things I've been doing/Ideas for the blog:

I've also been playing games (and getting distracted) with my irl friends and trying to catch up on my hobbies to prevent myself from burning out, Minecraft has been a big thing lately for me again: specifically Pixelmon LMAO.

For 2025 though, I plan to at least post an imagine once a week starting next week since things are still settling down and I have to get my work schedule.

I might also start posting (Eventually) my personal writing projects here to get feedback and possibly go to AO3 to post my crossover series since Tumblr isn't really the place to be doing so (Chief among them my FE3H AU: House Isekai), or if demand is high enough I'll post it here.

Oh, and with this major update I have once again updated my banner, not that it's really important, just that I put a good amount of effort in it, more than you'd think for how simple it is. I also want to see if anyone even gets my reference LMAO

Once this post goes live, I plan to add a few new characters, starting with the Commander from Girls' Frontline but we'll see how it goes.

I think that's all I got for right now, so see ya soon guys!

- Chris

#not an ask #chris's thoughts

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itspileofgoodthings · 1 month ago

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one of my favorite things about getting older is that I’m just more sure and more confident in taking control in social situations and making other people feel at ease. I really love it!

#have always wanted to be good at it but it takes time #at least for me #my mom was describing one of her college friends to me the other day #and she goes ‘yeah she was kind of like you. personable and direct and kind.#‘and she was always going to deal with you (positive) instead of ignoring you’#honestly compliment of all time! because it does not come totally naturally to me #and there’s a lot that gets in my way—shyness anxiety a certain stiffness #but I love when i can feel it sort of giving way #anyway just rambling #also once again teaching has helped with this so much #because kids HAVE to be guided through a social situation. they don’t know what to do #and if I let them run it it’s always stupid #so just taking control asking the questions kind of —situating them so we can have a moment and then I can dismiss them #not that I do the same with adults lol. but works more often than you think #just having some direction and taking charge of a social interaction #I remember this comedian once saying he loved when someone took control in a social situation re: greetings/handshakes/hugs #like ‘oh thank goodness someone is figuring this out’ it’s so true and so funny skskdkdjd #I hope there is nothing peremptory about it! but I often find I’m so much ruder by doing nothing #than by being proactively kind and (hopefully) appropriate to the occasion #you know I’ve spoken on it before but my life really changed #when I made myself go back and say goodbye to my students after graduation my second year teaching #like. I literally ran away because I was so shy and it felt so awkward and no one was taking charge of how to do it #and the students wouldn’t (can’t) so it felt like they didn’t want to #and then I realized no—if someone is going to take the lead here it has to be me #and then I did! and there was in fact so much love waiting for me #people just don’t know how to show it #so you have to give them an opportunity #this is so many thoughts but I feel this sooooo much and I care about it so much

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corviiids · 6 months ago

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THANKS @kimdokjafan you are so kind and generous. ok im cashing in the first of three blank checks to talk about faith trust and pixie dust (most recent chatfic) because the last two directors commentaries were too serious so let's do a silly one.

some p5r spoilers, and this is mostly about sumire, and it's long again. do i need to keep disclaiming that these are long? you should know me by now.

i had this written for a while before i started formatting it because i wasn't really sure if i should post it? i feel like silly chatfic is something people go to for predominantly lighthearted nonsense so i was like, maybe there's too much plot and dramatic misunderstanding and i should just keep this one for myself. but then i was like well nothing matters and maybe someone will have fun with it. it's kind of terrible how much fully or mostly completed fic there is my docs that just doesn't see the light of day lol. write for yourself etc but i like sharing! too bad it comes with the mortifying ordeal etc. anyway that was a tangent

potato counter is a neopets game. there's no deep lore i just like neopets. i guess in this universe ryuji doesn't play neopets? or maybe he's just never played potato counter specifically. i also have a different fic where ryuji DOES play neopets. it's about neopets and ryuji and goro talking on neopets.

i think this might literally be the first time ive written sumi in a fic because i haven't actually written that much fic for royal, like, now that im looking, literally almost none? and none that had a group dynamic. so it was kind of fun to find her voice for the first time in a silly groupchat like this. i was worried people would find her exclamation marks annoying but i personally thought it was endearing so i added it in there.

every time i do a gag where a character corrects their own typo i have to code more stupid little bubbles to make it happen but i think it's worth it. all the effort that goes into making tgis look as much like a real chat as possible

this obviously doesnt take place in the canon p5/r universe, but im imagining sort of a postcanon sumi personality where she's more comfortable being herself and isn't borrowing kasumi's brand of confidence, but she's visibly a really anxious person without that kasumi veneer. i also think in this universe sumire is a fairly recent addition to the friend group, and while everyone likes her a lot and she really likes them, i kind of wanted to emphasise that feeling of being in a friend group where everyone's established and you're sort of a plus-one? you don't really fit yet. part of that is her being new, part of it is her anxiety, part of it is just the kind of person sumi is where she's so polite and self-conscious she ends up taking herself out of things with her own good intentions. stuff like her interrupting the flow of an existing conversation by greeting everyone instead of jumping straight in because she doesn't feel comfortable inserting herself, which means everyone else stops to greet her even though that doesn't normally happen in a friend group, or making a point of thanking everyone for being invited to events while the others take it as a given.

idk i love that she feels a bit out of place with the phantom thieves in p5r. and part of that is a natural consequence of being a new addition in royal who can't be naturally integrated with an existing dynamic but i honestly feel like the writing team realised that and acknowledged it, and really leaned into it, and that made it work incredibly well for me. like, it's part of her character that she's sort of an outsider. it's not like p4g's incredibly clumsy integration of marie and subsequent attempt to shove her down everyone's throat as the canon love interest in p4ga (knife). sumi has that outsider vibe on purpose and it makes me really like her dynamic with the thieves as an individual

goro also feels slightly out of place in these chats, but his conversational style blends more naturally with the other thieves at this point and he even uses their codenames sometimes. i keep saying my chatfic series isn't a real Series because the lore keeps changing, but if we accept that they're all kind of following a General Continuity, assume this takes place some time after the last fic in which ren added goro to the groupchat and they made an effort to integrate him into their friend group. he's kind of there now and has settled into being the weird boyfriend. that's his role.

every time goro says something like "ren and i" assume it's the text equivalent of him talking to the group with his arm around ren's waist.

ok i got really fond of this silly running joke where sumi brings up the weather when she's feeling uncomfortable. she's so polite. i like this thread because setting it up meant i got to tie it off like this:

this just made me happy lol i liked writing this. i tried to use it to demonstrate that despite goro's abrasiveness he obviously knows sumire pretty well, he's attuned to her quirks and knows how to tell when she's having a bad time with her anxiety, so he uses her little weather habit to ground her.

i honestly dont think goro and sumire could be considered close in p5r and as much as i like the "royal trio" in canon they're not really... like... friends? with each other? they're both attached to ren, so it' more a V shape than anything else. but that said, i really LIKE goro and sumi's canon dynamic. he takes a really grouchy but politely attentive supervisory role to her during their few forays into the palace as a trio where he doesn't really know her well but clearly identifies her as a harmless little tryhard who needs some guidance and steps into that role grudgingly, and she immediately looks up to him despite being very wrong footed by his ruthlessness, which i find incredibly charming. i think given time they could be good friends, they just didn't get much chance to know each other very well in canon. so i tried to kinda do that here.

once goro stops being evil and joins the group they all kind of tiredly accept that his role is to occasionally push a cup off a bench while smirking and refuse to clean it up. emotionally, i mean.

wait i need to backtrack chronologically to talk about akeshu.

in this scene they're in the same room lol talking and snickering while typing. im trying to get at that vibe of the annoying couple who is flirting with each other, via you. you know? like ostensibly they're talking to you (sumire) but everything they say to you is part of their stupid game. sumi is incidental to goro and ren teasing each other about flirting with someone else, goro is reporting everything ren says because his boyfriend is so eye-rollingly foolish in a cute way. they're very tickled by how amusing and charming they are. gross. disgusting. sumire im so sorry for putting you through this

anyway here are too many of my favourite jokes from the fic

#futaba gets a lot of my favourite punchlines because i love her. i think she's an incredible vessel for comedic timing #once again you can see how much i overthink everything #given the amount of thought that goes into character shit for what LOOKS like a stupid 3 second chatfic #but is really. a stupid 3 second chatfic with twenty years of overthinking behind it #it takes time and effort. to be this stupid #anyway i love sumi. i think she's so cute. i like her dynamic with the thieves so much #ive said it before but i think chatfic is one of those mediums that looks so deceptively simple because #you know it's just silly dialogue and memes. it's very accessible. anyone can write a funny chatfic #but i think it's such a character-forward 'genre' that it's really really difficult to do well in the sense that it feels like the characte #s you know and not just mouthpieces for memes with familiar names attached. so im kinda obsessed with the genre #it relies so heavily on every character having a distinctive voice without trying too hard to be unique #ideally you should be able to read one of these with no names attached ands till get a general sense of who's talking #without having to rely on liek (sorry) homestuck style quirks which make it visibly obvious #that' skinda hard because irl people's typing styles aren't THAT distinct you know. theres only so many variations #you can make to a person's use of grammar punctuation capitalisation etc before it becomes a gimmick instead of an idiosyncrasy #but hopefully if the character voice is strong enough their identtiy should come through more subtly anyway. idk .idk if im there but i lov #to work towards it #wow i wrote anothr essay in the tags about my love for Modern Epistolary Fiction (chatfic)#after already writing a whole essay in the post #i mgonna shut up guys thanks for having me #rookfic #asks #p5 #rookthots

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skeletalheartattack · 3 months ago

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hi I like gelato a lot

youtube

#ask #anon #hi anon. sorry that i used this opportunity to talk about the sims 2 console port #ive had this template made and didn't use it for much besides a few jokes to send to friends #but i think it's on par for Gelato to be this knowledgeable about one of his favourite games.#but yeah basically i grew up with the xbox version of Sims 2 and since the xbox was my brothers console. i didnt get to play it a whole lot #and years later i bought the sims 2 on PS2 and noticed a lot of slowdown on actions and stuff #and the golden bolt (i think thats their youtube name) did a video about the console ports of sims 1 & 2 games #and i was kinda confused hearing them talk about how the sims 2 only had one save file (on PS2) because the xbox version had like eight #and so that. paired with me looking through the cutting room floor page of the sims 2 #i was kinda curious to see if the xbox version really performed as bad as it does on the ps2 version #because the golden bolt was also talking about that in their coverage of the ports #and so like again. there's only two videos on youtube that I could find of the xbox version #and the ones uploaded by IGN run on the ps2 version. because of the fucking button prompts they show on screen #anyway. so like thankfully one of the only other xbox videos showcased making a sim. and it's. so much fucking faster than the ps2 version #like on the ps2 version. you'd select a hairstyle. wait 5-10 seconds. and then the hair changes and you get the ui element to customize it #press cancel and you wait 5-10 seconds to revert back to your previous hairstyle #on the xbox version though? it's so much fucking faster #i haven't checked gameplay of the gamecube version but ik that speedrunners use specifically just that version of the port?#im not sure why only because i havent done the research to check what's better about the gamecube version #granted. i have to get around to getting an original xbox controller at some point to prove it for myself that the xbox port runs the best #i know it probably wont be perfect due to the disk having a few scratches. but its gotta beat my ps2 copy #im also curious to see how many save files i used. because im almost certain i used like 6-7 of them #just because i kept creating new story modes with almost identical alien sims with mohawks #in my last playthrough. i think i broke that tradition and gave my sim a flatter haircut. i also forget if i made him an alien or not.#i havent played it in a year due to getting my computer and it taking up the space i used for my crt setup #anyway. hi anon. sorry about that. im happy you like Gelato :)#i genuinely love him so much ever since Helper sketched him up. like she absolutely nailed it. literally couldn't ask for anything better #and writing up stuff for him has honestly made me love him so much more #thank you for the ask anon!! :)

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unriding · 17 days ago

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Moze was known for being sneaky and basically invisible, since barely anyone sees him while he sees everyone and everything. It might be creepy to think about, but this didn't intimidate you at all. Rather the opposite - this was one of the reasons why you became interested in him.

But your beloved would've never guessed that you can be the sneaky type too. At first, you sneaked into his heart slowly and carefully - and now you are sneaking sweet little messages on sticky notes everywhere he could see them.

Be it in his lunchbox, in his trouser pockets, on his daggers,.. everywhere he would find a sweet message like “Remember that you are so, so loved by me, Moze! ❤️” which he certainly wasn't used to seeing, but he didn't mind it in one bit.

He actually adores it and they became one of his favorite parts of the day - besides the part where he would see you.

So don't be surprised when you find a sticky note with the message “I love you, Evie.” one day too, and of course - he would've sneaked it into your lunchbox, too while watching your reaction in the shadows, slightly smiling to himself.

~ 💐 (18th door of the advent calendar)

#彡 inbox.#彡 cherishing.#🐦‍⬛🐕 .#彡 💐!#dresvi !!!!!!!!! ]: where would i even start?! the entire thing you’re doing - dropping by everyone’s inboxes is so sweet itself!! T T you #are full of so much kindness and everything you post gives me so much warmth n happiness waaa — which im sure is the case for everyone else #who has crossed paths with you!! thank you for doing such a sweet thing ): i appreciate this more than i could ever put into words!! but i #do have a thing for word dumping anyways — so i will do my best to convey my gratitude of course!! 🥹 holding this so dearly to my heart as #i type out this mass of text bahahhaa aaaaaa T T im in such disbelief HANSJD YOURE SO SWEET HELLO???????? DRESVI!!! T T !!!!!!#HIS STEALTH COMING OFF AS COOL IS SO VALID !!!!! i think it is very fun rather than scary …. the things you could do!! T T you could call #out to the void & say something concerning — watch as he emerges from the shadow to double check if what he heard was right bahhaha there is #much to experiment with !!!! what draws mr moze out of hiding 🎤 where does shadow moze like to go 🎤 much to learn!!! HEY!!! THE SNEAKING #INTO HIS HEART??? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 WAAA SJSNMSKKD AAAAAAA TO BE PERCEIVED BY HIM 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM BEYOND SPOILED WITH THIS SENTENCE DRES!!! T T !!! I LOVE U!!!#the notes becoming one of his favorite parts of the day ))))): i will start sobbing into my hands )))))): TO DO ANYTHING FOR HIM IS SUCH A #TREAT AJANSNSMX )))): I WILL BE SURE TO DECORATE THEM NICELY!!! WITH LOTS OF HEARTS AND SPARKLES AND DOODLED CROWS — CROWS WITH THE RED #RIBBON HE HAS ON HIS OUTFIT !!! CROZE (MOZE CROW) IF YOU WILL ….. DRESVI YOU WRITE HIM SO CUTELY IM SO ??????? FAVORITE PART ??? )))):#HE GAVE ME A NOTE BBBBAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKKK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 SOBBING INTO MY HANNNNDNSNSSSS HES SO PRECIOUS 😭😭😭#WATCHING FEOM THE SHADOWS )): HE SEES ME SQUEALING ONE SECOND AND HICCUPING AND SNIFFLING THE NEXT???#WOULD HE SEE ME TUCK HIS NOTE INSIDE MY PHONE CASE ): SNIFFLE ????? OMG T T DRESVI #lightly smiling to himself (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡ please dresvi (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡ im not strong enough to imagine (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡ such a sweet image in my head (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ #him smiling (ㅠ‸ㅠ) at my embarrassing reaction (ㅠ‸ㅠ) UUUUHRHEHEHHDH )))))): ))): !!!!!!!!! T T !!!!!!!!#IF SUCH A THING EVER HAPPENED I WOULD FORGET THE NOTES THE NEXT DAY !!!! ITS REAL TALKING TIME — SPRINTING AND HUGGING AND SOBBING INTO HIS #CHEST ASKING WHY HES SO PRECIOUS TIME — BUT ALAS I WOILD BE TOO EMBARRASSED SO PERHAPS I COULD JUST SIT NEAR HIM AND CRY INTO MY KNEES ALL #DAY 😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU AGAIN OH MY GOD im sorry i have typed out so much!!!! it is just too cute T T !!! YOURE SO SWEET UHEJJJJN IM LATCHING #ONTO UR LEG THANKING YOU A MILLION TIMES OVER ))): SNIFFLE

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shroomerr · 17 days ago

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Shroom, darling! It's me! In your inbox! I hope you're doing alright! I got questions about Anh!

1) Was she born in South Park, or did her family move in? What is her family life like?

2) You mentioned before that her and Craig are close, even touched on their dynamic a little bit! What do they do when they hang out? Do they remain close after high-school?

3) When she's an adult, what do you think she does for a living? Is she happy doing it?

4) I am absolutely in love with that picture you drew of her and Kyle where she's the witch! What school of magic does she master? Is that her TSOT outfit?

5) Have you made a Playlist for her yet? If so, gimbe 🤲 please!

Present day shroomer here: I'm so sorry this took so damn long you can tell exactly how long ago this was written because I talk about my assignments SJDLAHA WHATEVERR TIME IS A CONSTRUCT ANYWAY

AHH DUDEEE 💓💞💖 THANK YOU SM FOR THESE QUESTIONS!!! Other than these assignments making me low key tweak, I'm doing good esp now that there's only one week left (it is now past the semester oops)!! Having these asks is such a nice distraction from all of the monotonous work. It makes me so happy that you want to know more about Hanh!!

(also no youre not going crazy haha, I changed her name from Anh to Hanh. Her full name is Dao Hanh Tran! Tran being her last name)

Ok, onto the questions!!

Was the born in South Park, or did her family move in? What is her family life like?

I mention it briefly here, but Hanh and her family moved into South Park! Timeline wise, I imagine that this move happens before the town became gentrified and people from all over started moving in. They're originally from Michigan and moved to Colorado in order to be closer to family, and South Park seemed like the perfect place to call home (but mostly because her dad found a ridiculously cheap house listing that was too good to pass up). To which Hanh was sorely disappointed, seeing as they just went from one cold climate to an even colder climate, but this time with nothing but mountains and rednecks all around.

Her dad is a restaurant owner and her mom works at a nail salon that's owned by one of their relatives. I think it would be pretty funny if her dad owned the City Pho that we see in Post Covid and if he had a sort of rivalry with the Lu Kim from City Wok, lol. No siblings. When she's young, Hanh has a good relationship with her parents. No tragic deaths or backstories of the sort (yet). She kind of has the perfect life, despite their busy schedules: they bring her out to go a lot of places, spend a lot of time with her and are financially stable. When they first move to South Park, her parents would usually pick her up after school and bring her to the nail salon or at the restaurant either to do homework or to help out with the business (because you're not truly Asian until you participate in child labour! Whoo!).

It's only after integrating themselves into the town more and becoming familliar with the neighbors (aka the M4) that her parents trust her to stay at the boys' houses more, only after getting to know their parents well enough. This is mostly because their workplace is outside of South Park and their closing hours are relatively late, so they don't want to make her stay up too late with them.

As she grows up, her relationship with both of her parents becomes rocky. Around when she reaches Middle School, her parents start putting a lot of academic pressure and expectations on her, especially her mom. Their dad also starts becoming more distant, not only from working on expanding the restaurant chain but also because of family issues stemming from Hanh's grandma on their dad's side: a lot of back and forth trips from South Park to Denver, who takes care of grandma because no nursing home would take her, their grandma's dementia making her incredibly difficult to talk to, etc. It starts causing a lot stress for Hanh's dad and subsequently causes a lot of problems at home, where now both parents are constantly fighting (with very poor attempts at hiding it). Pair that with stubborn attitudes, insecurities and blame games? Yea, nothing constructive is coming out of this. Around this time Hanh tries to avoid being home as much as possible: spending time studying at the library, Kyle's house, hell even at Stan's farm if she can. If I ever get to explore this in a story or comic, this would be a major plot point of what I would want to explore, along with the other boys' problems and dynamics.

Maybe someday I'll figure out a happy ending for them...

You mentioned before that her and Craig are close, even touched on their dynamic a little bit! What do they do when they hang out? Do they remain close after high-school?

Oof that last one was kind of heavy, so let's talk about something more light-hearted! So I'd like to think that Hanh was close with Tweek before they became close with Craig. Speaking of Tweek!! I feel so bad that I completely forgot about him in the best friend ask, but he's arguably one of her closer friends. At the very least, closer than Wendy. But yea, since she became close to Craig thanks to Tweek, usually all three of them hang out together: either studying (very rarely and very begrudgingly: Tweek has barely any time for studying with working at the coffee shop and Craig just doesn't care), or usually their main activity is just going to Craig's place to watch Red Racer for the 100th time (shh don't tell Craig but at this point Hanh barely pays attention and she just draws the whole time, lol). They do this pre-Creek and even post-Creek, because both Craig and Tweek find it stupid to let their relationship affect their other friendships, so they still stay close to each other. They tried doing a group miniature model assembly thing with one of Tweek's sets, but he got too stressed out trying to tell them all of the instructions and seeing them mess up that they never tried it again, lol. If Tweek is busy at the coffee shop, both Craig and Hanh will go there to visit him and keep him company (though Hanh tries not to go with Craig too often just so that the two love birds can have some alone time 🤭). But for specifically Hanh and Craig, I think the two of them are the types of people to not want to do anything too extravagant when hanging out together because just the thought of it can be exhausting: so they stick to just hanging out, watching cartoons, maybe play video games (trying to beat each other in Smash, Mario Party, fighting games, etc.) and sometimes just silently doing their own thing but in the same room. I think after high school, they'd definitely talk a lot less since I imagine that Craig and Hanh would move out of South Park so that proximity aspect does affect their friendship. However, conversations always get picked up as if no time has passed. So, yes, they still remain close even after high school :)

When she's an adult, what do you think she does for a living? Is she happy doing it?

When she grows up she becomes an artist! Specifically an illustrator, so not the kind that makes paintings and puts them up in galleries, but the ones that work with clients, does commissions, work for certain companies, etc. I'm not too sure specifically what kind of illustrator she'd be, since there's so many different kinds. Maybe she'd work as a concept artist for a game company, or as a freelancer picking up odd job offers from different indie studios, or maybe she'd even try to establish her own brand and sell her own merchandise! If after high school she's still hesitant on choosing that path, she'd probably study psychology just to have a fallback plan, but the final goal will always be illustrator! And yea, it's definitely something she's happy doing.

I am absolutely in love with that picture you drew of her and Kyle where she's the witch! What school of magic does she master? Is that her TSOT outfit?

Ok I had to look this up because I am a DnD NOOB I only know like....... the very bare minimum.

So I didn't really have a specific school of magic in mind of Hanh when I made that witch design. I just kind of thought "haha funny witch" and rolled with it because I love witches HAHA so I think she's kind of got a bit from every school of magic? I'm so sorry if this isn't the answer you were looking for, I really didn't think too hard about it when I made that drawing haha

But I can tell you more about the other question! So no, that isn't her TSOT outfit. I guess you could say it's her in a Monster AU? Since we have Vampire Kyle that originated from the Pinkeye Halloween episode, I kind of thought "oh if she was celebrating Halloween with them, she'd have a witch costume for that episode. Oh, what if I turn that into some sort of Monster AU?" And since a lot of the inspiration was taken from that fic I mentioned in the original post, it just got the synapses sparking HAHA

Her TSOT version though.... ooo.... I've been working on it for a while, and I've still got the game to play but I think I've got a pretty concrete idea of how I want it to look? There's just some kinks I'm not 100% sure on, but I've mostly got the lore figured out.

Have you made a Playlist for her yet? If so, gimbe 🤲 please!

ok, so funny little story uh.......... im a "liked songs" kind of person and i NEVER make playlists. ive actually only started making playlists like 2 months ago (and only started using spotify like 2 weeks ago) when i got sick of scrolling through my liked songs and i didnt even have any playlists for my characters UNTIL THIS ASK LOLL

But!! I've learned since then!! So let me show you what I've got so far:

In terms of a playlist that she'd listen to, I cannot give you an answer to this because this girl will quite literally listen to everything lol (not me projecting but eh whatever this whole character is me projecting anyway). It'll go from Beabadoobee, to Mother Mother, to Sleep Token, to Tyler the Creator, to New Jeans, to JVB, to DPR Ian, to Nothing but Thieves, to Tame Impala, to the Beastie Boys, to Charli XCX— yea ok you get the picture. It's rare for her to like everything from a single artist and she has songs from every corner. She's a fan of pretty much every genre, it's just that she'll be picky about what songs she ends up enjoying. So yea, her music taste is my music taste!

As for the actual playlist I made for her: it's a mix of both songs that I think fit her vibe and songs that relate to her story. Good luck figuring out which is which, though, because I put both of them together HAHA

Some songs are not related to her story/do not fit her characterization at all (ex: i think there's a beabadoobee song that talks about one night stands? and that is nottt the kind of person she is). It's also because I haven't had the time to check all of the lyrics for each song to make sure they fit her vibe, so I just decided to lump the both of them together lol.

(Some day I'll make one that's specifically works for her story, but I'd have to actually write it out first. But for now, this works.)

#SO SORRY THESE TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER AGAIN!!#i hope the ask i sent you made up for it at least <333 #these were..... so hard to think about.....#WHICH IS GREAT!! it made me think about a lot of stuff i didnt think about before #so thank you!!#especially that playlist thing #they way i scrambled to immediately start curating a playlist because i realized shit thats something i should have #anyways love u 🫶 TYSM FOR THE ASKKKK GRAH YOU BRING THIS GIRL SO MUCH JOY #giving you the biggest kiss on the forehead #south park #south park oc #south park original character #sp oc #shroomer's archives: dao hanh #shroomer's inbox !#little-neighbor

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sweet-star-cookie · 2 months ago

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if you were to drop cassie + the zodiacs into a human/modern AU (an AU where all the zodiacs and constellations were humanized and there is no magic in the universe), what jobs do you think they would do? what would their new human names be? would their dynamics change as a result of the lack of magic and the trauma that comes along with it? and what do you think flicker's normal animal equivalent would be?

(definitely not related to a christmas special i'm cooking up nooope no frenzied AU writing here)

Oooooooh? 👀 Whatever you've got cooking, I'm very excited :D You know it's funny, now that I think about it I've done a lot more speculating about humanization/AU stuff for this set of characters than even I remembered initially, haha! The upside is that means I actually have some stuff to give you :D Of course I don't consider any of this to be "canon" even in an AU sense, as the ideas here are pretty spur-of-the-moment overall and I would need to develop them more if I were to ever make an actual AU story myself. Some of these I've never thought about prior to now, so it is by no means complete in terms of info, but I hope it helps!

With that in mind, don't feel restricted by what I give you here, if you come up with something different for these characters that you want to write about, go for it! Feel free to play around and have fun ^_^ Alright, on to the (very long) answers!

I'll start with the Flicker question, since that'll have the shortest answer comparatively! When figuring out their size in the main story I have compared them to a small kitten before. Considering they can fit in the palm of Cassie's hand most of the time too, something in the rodent family might be more suitable here. Given their stubby limbs, small paws/feet and round body, a hamster comes to mind for me (though I'm biased because I grew up with pet hamsters, haha).

As for Cassie and the zodiac, it would depend on what setting/context this takes place in to determine how they meet and interact with each other, and what dynamics they'd make or keep from their original counterparts, including what part of the world they/their theoretical ancestors are from. Are they all somehow in Cassie's town, or are they all somewhere else? How Cassie would meet them would obviously be very different too, and depending on their occupations she'd be less likely to meet some than others, but of course you can find ways to bring them together anyway.

Since there are nearly infinite options to answer the question of setting, I'll instead give you some general ideas for their possible occupations and such and you can go from there! Some of the "jobs" the adult zodiacs have on the Astral Plane do translate pretty easily to regular Earth occupations, but again you don't have to stick to those if you don't want to. Same with the names, I only have some that came to mind or that I've had previously so feel free to make some up for yourself!

------ ARIES

Possible Occupation: I could see him as a gym trainer or something, the kind that may yell a lot but that actually works for people who are motivated by that kind of intensity, and he genuinely cares about the health/strength goals of the patrons with great passion as well. Perhaps he's still underestimated for his size/height but is able to prove himself with his strength anyway, and thus everyone at the gym respects him. What's funny is Aries actually used to be half-human in canon! Here's the old concept art from around 2016, if that helps at all:

The only reason I eventually changed him was to balance out the cast a bit more variety wise, as Leo was the only anthropomorphic animal zodiac character at the time. This is the same reason I changed Capricorn to be anthropomorphic as well, though in his case I felt it also strengthened his concept as the "sea goat" a lot more easily that way.

Possible Name: For some reason any variant of Aaron comes to mind, I'm assuming because it matches with the "ar" syllable in Aries (though that may also be me thinking about Aran Ryan, the stereotypical unhinged/angry Irishman character from Punch-Out lol)

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: (If you're including them too) I'd imagine that Perseus would be a rather anxious member at the gym that takes a lot of effort to motivate properly, but Aries sees potential in him and sees it through anyway. Either that or he simply wants to help out with other things around the gym to build up his confidence more. He's young, so maybe it's his very first job or something, and a challenge for Aries to learn how to train someone who doesn't match his own demeanour very much at all.

------ TAURUS

Possible Occupation: I can see her as some kind of animal rescue operator or a park ranger that's focused on areas with protected species. A zookeeper could work well too, she'd definitely be one that would be excited and energetic when giving tours and facts about the animals because she loves them so much.

Possible Name: One that I have in my old "what if" notes is Tori Dellman (I don't remember why lol)

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: Wherever Orion would be in his original character arc could determine their relationship here, like maybe he's still a hunter/poacher that Taurus has to deal with but eventually befriends, or he is a fellow park ranger/animal rescuer/zookeeper.

Coincidentally, at the time of writing this I am finishing up Part 2 of Orion's updated reference sheet that shows his human form prior to his deer transformation, so stay tuned for that soon :D

------ GEMINI & LEO (Putting these two together since they're the children of the zodiac cast and thus wouldn't have set jobs/aspirations like the adults do)

Possible Names: The Gemini twins could theoretically keep their original names (Solana and Luna) but there are a bunch of other names that mean sun/moon that you could use if you want to keep that duality theme but in a subtler way.

Same with Leo, there are a bunch of names that mean "lion" that you could use (though that already includes Leo itself, of course).

Relationship with Zodiac Companions: I feel like this would also be determined by what dynamic they have with their guardians/parental figures (Sagittarius and Cancer) and if they're adopted as their children or not. This would extend to their companions as well, as I consider Leo Minor to be Leo's little brother in canon and that could be the same here. Auriga could be an older sister to the Gemini twins in turn, though I could also see her as a camp counsellor or some other kind of teenage volunteer on a school trip or something.

------ CANCER

Possible Occupation: Her giant claw cannons that can shoot water and her strong build make me think she could work well as a fire fighter, the kind that isn't weighed down by her gear very much and doesn't mind leaping into danger multiple times if necessary, still keeping that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ kind of attitude when it comes to her own safety.

Possible Name: The only name I have for her in my notes is Maura Kinloch, though this was a relic from a very, very old lore draft where it's implied that her incarnation of her constellation has been around for literal centuries, further implying that she was the only one of the armour clad characters on the Astral Plane who actually lived as a knight during the medieval times on Earth (make of that what you will lmao)

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: This would again depend on how you interpret Hydra/Hydrus and their relationship with her, though you don't necessarily have to humanize every single one of the animal characters either. Considering their constellations are defined as "the water snakes" you could also have them be her pets, either as snakes or some other kind of reptile/amphibian.

------ VIRGO

Possible Occupation: Considering her Lady Justice themeing in canon, she could have a similar job in a courtroom, though which one she has is up to you. A judge or attorney might be most fitting, but she could also be an investigator or detective as well.

Possible Name: Not sure, sorry ^^' Whenever I need to think of AU names I usually either pick a name that has a meaning adjacent to their original concept, or one that phonetically sounds similar/has some of the same syllables as their canon name to tie them together.

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: Given Corvus's status as a former thief/delinquent in canon, you could use that in the AU and whatever job Virgo has could determine what relationship they have. Perhaps Corvus is a part of a case she's working on as a suspect and she needs to prove his guilt/innocence, or he's the classic "help us out now and we'll reduce your sentence" kind of thing, perhaps acting as a sort of double agent.

------ LIBRA

Possible Occupation: I picture her keeping her job as a librarian/archivist, though how high up the "ladder" she is in terms of that occupation is up to you, and whether or not museum experience is included is a possibility as well. If you want to connect her AU part to Virgo's to match canon, she could also be either a fellow attorney/judge, or the stenographer (the person who transcribes what is said in a courtroom). They could always just be friends outside of their respective jobs too, though.

Possible Name: Elise, from my old notes. Not sure if I picked this one because they both have L in their spellings but I like it. :)

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: Lupus would still be some kind of assistant to Libra I think, regardless of what occupation either of them has. Similar to Scutum (see below!) I actually have a drawing of him as a human, though it's not finished yet:

I had fun with this one :D Though he appears a lot younger as a wolf, he's actually a young adult in terms of age. ------ SCORPIO

Possible Occupation: This is one I actually have a slightly more fleshed out AU idea for, believe it or not! I pictured Scorpio as some kind of secret agent/spy or maybe even a trained assassin or bounty hunter depending on whether he actually has a body count in this AU or not. Perhaps he's caught up in a conspiracy or plot where he realizes he's on the wrong side of it all with what he has been assigned, and has to pivot to save the victim(s) despite the extreme danger in doing so.

If you want a more "pedestrian" angle for the AU though, he could just be the type of guy who tries his best to get by with whoever will hire him, but somehow keeps finding trouble or having trouble find him. Maybe he was categorized as a delinquent in his youth because of his suspiciously adept knife skills, rightfully or otherwise, leading to his characteristic brooding pessimism even after he became a young adult.

If Virgo/Libra are still tied to the justice system in this hypothetical, I think it would be funny if Scorpio was truthfully just a regular guy, but one that constantly gets roped into ridiculous situations through no fault of his own. So once they get him on the stand and they look at him like "...again?" he's just like "for the love of god it's not me this time-"

Apparently I cannot give him a break even in an AU, sorry bud xD

Possible Name: To match his occupation, it's likely that his real name is unknown/redacted and he uses Agent Scorpio/Scorpius as a code name or alias instead. Not sure what his name would be in an otherwise normal situation though, maybe he has to keep changing it to avoid whatever trouble keeps finding him.

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: In sharp contrast to Scorpio, Scutum is a paramedic with a big heart and chipper attitude, the kind that may not follow the rules all the time but is always riding off on his Moped with his medical bag to save a life somewhere. If he arrives on the scene on time, he has a tendency to put himself between a victim and the assailant's weapon to protect them, earning him his nickname. I've actually drawn this version of him too :D

(this is still one of my favourite designs to date, heehee :'D )

Despite their opposing occupations, he and Scorpio end up working together a lot more than either of them expected. As a paramedic, Scutum has the MO of "everyone deserves rescuing", including trained assassins in this case! To him it doesn't matter who they are, a patient is a patient. ------ SAGITTARIUS

Possible Occupation: For some reason I picture him as an outdoorsman, like a hiker or survivalist or something. I think it would be funny if, even when fully human in this AU, he is still mistaken for a bear in the woods from a distance because of his hair and stocky build. Whether he practices archery as a job or simply a hobby is another thing as well, as that could factor into his survival skills or perhaps he competes in tournaments with it.

Possible Name: I have Argus or Darius as a first name here, and considering the Scottish inspiration for his canon design you could give him a Scottish surname as well if you like.

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: If you want to keep Centaurus's insatiable desire to explore, you could have him be a companion on Sagittarius's hikes or a survivalist-in-training. He might want to partake in some spelunking as well if the area in question has caves. Even in canon Centaurus's name is often shortened to Rus, so you could use that here as a short form of Russell.

------ CAPRICORN

Possible Occupation: I think he'd be a well-to-do patron of the arts, likely still an owner or an otherwise staunch financial supporter of a theatre, big or small. Whether he is/was an actor or is simply a performing arts enthusiast is up to you, but I think his refined taste and penchant for the extravagant would still shine through in his demeanour, clothing and possessions. Whether he and Aries are still brothers here is up to you too, though the contrast in their occupations might make for an amusing dynamic, as Capricorn in this AU likely wouldn't lay a finger on a weight even if his life depended on it.

Possible Name: Quentin Armanis, Noctus Finch, or Atticus Strombold (I'm really good at coming up with fancy names I guess lmao)

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: I think Pegasus and her siblings would still be in the performing arts here, though depending on the setting, how they and Capricorn meet might be different. Perhaps Capricorn has a more hidden altruistic side where he supports young and/or indie theatre efforts in addition to the larger ones, but all on the down-low for the sake of whatever reputation he's trying to keep.

------ AQUARIUS

Possible Occupation: I can see her keeping her fashion designer/hair stylist angle here, but how "high profile" she is in this regard could vary in the AU depending on her goals/passions. Regardless of whether her and Pisces are still married in this AU, I could see Pisces becoming at least a muse for Aquarius's designs if nothing else.

Possible Name: Odessa, or some other fancy name that a fashion designer would have.

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: Similar to their initial rivalry in canon, Aquila could be a rival of hers in the fashion world as well, perhaps even "fighting" with similar clothing styles and motifs to see who can do it better. Whether they patch things up or continue the drama would remain to be seen!

------ PISCES

Possible Occupation: For some reason I see her going in a lot of potential directions. She could work at a spa, an aquarium, or maybe she'd be a swimming instructor/competitive swimmer, all options to keep her water/fish theme. Whether or not her and Aquarius are married in this AU may alter one or both of their occupations as well.

Possible Name: Cherise, perhaps to match her predominantly pink/red colours in canon and cheerful personality. Depending on her occupation, I can see others calling her "Miss Cherry" as a nickname (the word cherry derives from cherise, and cerise is French for cherry).

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: This also depends on how you'd approach Austri in this AU, as even if she's still a circus performer like she is/was in canon, how she and Pisces meet would likely be very different regardless. They don't necessarily have to be connected outside of meeting each other at some point though. I could see Pisces simply knowing Austri for being a performer at the aforementioned circus or even as a mute comedian that specializes in physical comedy instead of verbal. Considering Austri's canon connections to Capricorn as well, perhaps they know each other through association that way.

------ OPHIUCHUS

(Including him too because he's sort of the 13th zodiac and it would feel wrong to exclude him considering how important he is to canon lol) Possible Occupation: Considering he's a healer in canon, I'd imagine him being in the medical field would be appropriate, especially since the caduceus (a symbol associated with Ophiuchus and traditionally represents healing) is still used as a medical symbol today. Depending on what you wish to do with Scorpio/Scutum's part of the AU, you could have them be connected (for better or worse!)

Possible Name: No idea, sorry ^^' It could be similarly long/complicated as his constellation name, and maybe has a degree of unintentional intimidation to it. For me at least, the name Ophiuchus always felt very grandiose even if my character with that name is of a more humble nature comparatively, so you could play around with that depending on what angle you wish to take with his character's personality/goals in this AU. Is he still considered an antagonist here, or something else entirely?

Relationship with Zodiac Companion: A similar situation to Cancer where you don't necessarily have to humanize Serpens and Cetus and could make them pet snakes, though having them be Ophiuchus's assistants at his medical practice could also work well too, since that's basically what they do in canon (and the caduceus imagery often includes two snakes already).

#thank you for this!!! i've missed getting asks so this was a lovely surprise :D #honestly writing this out really makes me want to go back to that Scorpio/Scutum AU #it was a lot of fun to think about #though i am often distracted by these things when i should be working on canon first lmao #it is HEAVILY inspired by an anime called Buddy Daddies that I had just finished watching at the time #Scutum doesn't have a lot of similarity to Katsuki personality wise #but Rei has so much Scorpio energy it's actually unreal #if for whatever reason I ever needed a Japanese VA for him I'd pick Rei's VA instantly #no shade to his English VA but something about the Japanese one just hits different #it captures the EXACT energy he has and it's amazing #anyway!!!!#thanks again ^_^#asks #tabsters #long post #my art #my OCs #Starglass Zodiac #SGZ #AUs #non-canon shenanigans

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