#but for safety's sake i'll put all of them

[doeeyeddyke]

Snap Out of It

Desi LGBT Fest

Day 8: The Acceptance You Hoped For vs. The Acceptance You Got

@desi-lgbt-fest

TW/CW: Body Horror, Flashing Images

(I’m afraid I don’t know how to censor images so the gif is beneath the cut. For the non flashing ver, see my reblog.)

Snap Out of It

Desi LGBT Fest

Day 8: The Acceptance You Hoped For vs. The Acceptance You Got

@desi-lgbt-fest​

[izzy-b-hands]

Instead of making a vent post abt my stupid fucking brain and mental health and the things that i absolutely have time to do/don't need to be done now bearing down on me yesterday and today like an old school cartoon train deadset on running over the main character of the piece, while the rest of my brain marinates in a soup made of every horrific thing happening in the world rn-

I'm going to go searching on ebay for stuff for my grandad for father's day (so i maybe, fucking maybe, can get a gift out on time for once in my fucking life) and try not to think abt my work shift in like. an hour and a half

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 3

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)

part 1, part 2, part 4

"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."

When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."

"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"

This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.

"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."

"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"

Oh.

You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.

"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."

Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.

"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."

You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.

You hated it.

Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.

You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.

You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?

When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...

You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?

Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.

The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.

Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.

So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.

Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.

Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos

[akutasoda]

HELLOO

can I request a S/o who always puts others before herself and always gets hurt and injured after :3

you're selfless, im selfish

synopsis - you're rather selfless and they hate seeing you get hurt because of this

includes - blade, luocha, aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angstyy, slight blood mentions, wc - 968

a/n: Hellooo! you didn't specify and i am currently on a massive star rail fixation so i hope you don't mind! if you do please let me know and i'll write another!

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

blade ★↷

↪blade was immortal. he had little care for how many pieces he could be broken down into during a fight as at the end of the day he knew he would still walk away as a blade. weapon's were built to be durable, what kind of 'blade' would he be if he let up at the first sign of danger?

↪he was also used to thinking about nobody but himself, the stellaron hunters became the first exception but he knew they'd be able to take care fo themselves. so it made him suspicious when you'd willingly put him before yourself as what could you possibly gain by doing so?

↪it didn't occur to him just how angry he would get when he watched you get injured for the sake of his safety. not at you despite how much it semed that way. a weapon's job was to protect in a violent manner and his enemies quickly learnt that, especially when his shield would get hurt.

↪he would scold you for throwing yourself into dangerous situations but moved with a gentle contrast as he dressed your wounds. he'd remind you time and time again that he didn't need you to think about his safety, let alone others, and you should worry about yours.

↪but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you completely and so he would swear that he himself would protect you at all costs despite your insistence of putting him before you.

luocha ★↷

↪despite the coffin that shadowed the merchant, luocha was a healer. someone who followed yaoshi and valued that selfless, healing behaviour and that meant assisting those among the cosmo's in medical affairs for a fair exchange - he was also a wandering merchant afterall

↪he found it rather endearing at first, how you always put those you cared about above yourself. it was rather admirable but he thought less of this trait when it applied to battles. he would prefer you to be selfish and uncaring if it meant you didn't get unnecessarily harmed.

↪especially when it came to you throwing yourself straight into danger for his sake. luocha feared that one day you'd throw yourself into danger for the sake of someone else and he would lose you - he didn't want to carry around two coffins now.

↪he would start subconsciously keeping track of you during dangerous situations, he needed to make sure you didn't do anything too risky. although he didn't mind catering to your injuries, he'd prefer not to stare at his lover's bloody cuts and bruises or whatever injury you accumulated for too long.

↪the merchant may admire that selfless behaviour but allow him to be selfish for once when he places a kiss to your knuckles after dressing your wounds and asking you to stay by his side, to not leave him if he can't get to you in time.

aventurine ★↷

↪aventurine strived to follow the path of preservation, it was a goal of his. achieving this goal was solely for the purpose of protecting his people and those who had helped his journey not hindered it. so when he learnt his original quest was impossible, he needed to strive for something else.

↪he wanted to protect many things and his relationship with you was one of them. at first, he relished in that kindness you showed when you would openly admit or demonstrate how you would always place him above yourself - your selflessness was rather admirable.

↪but he didn't like as much when it meant you'd get hirt in the process. he would not be able to bear losing yet another person he cared about, especially when he had the power to prevent it - especially if you died for him.

↪most of the time, he would be able to prevent you from getting to hurt but crimson was an ugly colour on his lover and he felt a small sense of guilt when he saw it after a fight. you would notice how he'd always be shielding you if you ever threw yourself in danger.

boothill ★↷

↪only two people knew what happened to boothill, himself and the doctor - although some times he didn't think he knew himself. however one thing was clear, he had suffered an amount of pain that pushed his human body to it's limits and bended it to a point of no return. now, he didn't live for himself.

↪recklessness was what probably had landed him in this situation, however when one has a cyborg body how could he not be reckless? he found it rather charming how you always put those close to you above yourself, a noble quality but his perspective changed when he realised just what that meant.

↪he had seen first hand just how little you cared for your safety if it meant protecting someone you cared about. a bittersweet sentiment. it pained his synthetic heart when you would come from a fight all injured and bloody as if it was him in your shoes, he'd be fine. but you had willingly thrown yourself in the way for his safety.

↪he had a metal body, you had a human one - if anything he should be throwing himself in the way as he could be rebuilt. boothill would try so hard to get this message across to you as the last thing he wanted was for you to be pushed to those same limits of pain just for someone who had already been there.

↪he would'nt live for himself but he'd live for you if it meant keeping you safe.

[adinafay]

I like to think Bhaal spends the entire timeline of BG3 just so incredibly confused and absolutely pissy about why he can't convince anyone - even his most special, Chosen, purest of Bhaalspawn- to murder for simple murder's sake.

Not that Bhaal doesn't appreciate murder more generally, but also how in the hells is he supposed to achieve global-genocide when everyone, even his own idiot kids, keeps using his precious murder as a mere tool, a means to their own ends, ya know?

He has to be a helicopter-parent to Durge about it:

Pre-tadpole Durge is so in-want of connection that they have to be under constant supervision by their specially-assigned butler to try and keep them on task. ("Stop bitching and let me live vicariously through you like all the other sport-parents!")

Then, even that isn't enough to stop them from connecting with Bane's lil shit "Gortash" and eventually starting in with the crown/Absolute plan ("Why in the hells are we using MY MURDER to help fucking Bane with his fucking tyranny?!")

Shortly after that Durge goes and gets merc'd and tadpoled by the other one... ("Have I taught my children nothing!? Orin really should know well by now that it's not 'murder' if they survive...")

... And then - clearly still prone to frivolous connection - they fucking gang up with a bunch of weirdos only to head home with other, new bad habits like "thinking for themselves" and "the apparent intent to entirely trash the plan they insisted on making with Gortash!" ("If you didn't want to play you shouldn't have had me sign you up for the team! Get your ass back in the game! You already got your Deathstalker uniform and everything! Now stop embarrassing me and maybe I'll even give you a slayer form.")

And, while Durge is being a rebellious lil Bhaalspawn, Bhaal also has to contend with:

His cultists, who are apparently killing mostly just for notoriety and/or safety amongst themselves. ("Quit playing around! I assure you I do not give a single fuck which one of you did it or how clean it was so long as the murder(s) did happen.")

Orin, who is playing at being an artist and completely absorbed in her exploration of murder and maiming as novel media to express her innumerable daddy issues ("Yes, I DO still like your lobotomized bloodkin more; at least they never wasted my time asking me to put all their shitty artwork up on the fridge.")

And Bane and Myrkul, who are presumably laughing their godly asses off and/or absolutely raging at Bhaal's inability to keep anyone at heel and how it's interfering with their mutual plan.

TL;DR: Life is hard when you're The God of Murder and neither your employees or your children properly respect the family business and your frenemies mock you for it.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Could we get the Claymore Queens (and anyone else of your choice) reacting to their SO trying to be tough for their sake, not saying anything, not wincing (or trying not to), not complaining, although they're not in the best condition?

(Genshin Impact) Clorinde, Eula, Dehya, Beidou, Navia, Noelle, Furina and Xinyan's S/O trying to tough out their injuries

"Nah, I'd win." - Me at 1hp to my friends after getting hit by a boss's move dead on.

Clorinde has been in so many duels to the point where she can tell someone is bluffing, simply by their body language alone.

S/O was heavily injured: their legs were slightly trembling, breathing heavy, and weapon shaking.

And she's only glanced at them for a few seconds. They were in no condition to keep going, even if they insisted otherwise.

(Clorinde) "You need to rest, S/O. If we get into another fight, you've already lost."

She rests a firm but affectionate hand onto their shoulders in an attempt to get them to relax.

(Clorinde) "Getting yourself killed will not prove to me that you are strong."

Eula frowns the moment she hears her S/O say they're fine.

She doesn't even need to look at them, Eula immediately turns around and tells them what they need to hear.

(Eula) "You are not fine. Tend to your wounds, I won't be the one dragging your unconscious body back to Mondstadt."

Though her words are harsh, it comes from a place of concern and love.

She'd prefer not to have S/O injured at all and be the one in their shoes instead, but it'd at least make her heart rest easier knowing they were out of harm's way and recovering.

(Eula) "At the very least, just wrap the bandages around yourself."

Dehya scoffs and crosses her arms, shoulders sagging as she raises a single eyebrow.

(Dehya) "Psh, yeah right. I'm sure that blood dripping down your arms means you're completely rarin' to go, right?"

She shakes her head as she forces them to sit down, and with her arm strength and S/O's injuries, it is very easy to do.

(Dehya) "Sit still for a sec, you're not fooling anyone."

Dehya knows they weren't trying to worry her, but if anything this was doing the opposite.

...Then again, she can't exactly blame them. She'd probably do the same right now.

Beidou lightly punches their arm, and when S/O yelps out, that solidifies her decision.

(Beidou) "Thought so. You're sitting this one out for now."

Beidou's top priority is always the safety of her crew, S/O was no exception.

She doesn't take no for an answer easily, and Beidou does not care how much S/O tries to convince her otherwise.

(Beidou) "You'd convince me a lot more if you weren't hissing every single time my hand brushed against you, y'know."

Navia isn't even listening to S/O try to insist that they're fine.

Navia, along with some bodyguards that appeared out of nowhere, are already tending to their injuries.

(Navia) "We'll get you fixed up in no time, you leave everything to me!"

Her heart is pounding when she's looking at their injuries, trying her best to block the unpleasant thoughts out of her head.

What matters the most right now is that S/O not push themselves anymore for her sake.

Navia needed them to be okay.

(Navia) "No more of that talk, S/O! You're resting here and that's final! Gentlemen, S/O does not move an inch from this spot, understood?"

(Bodguards) "Yes. ma'am!"

Noelle pouts when she sees S/O trying to walk beside her.

Absolutely not! They weren't even in the condition to help her clean.

Granted, not a lot of people can clean an entire wagon just by lifting it with one arm, S/O included, but her point still stands.

(Noelle) "I do not think so! S/O, I ask you leave this work to me! You sit here and rest, I'll clean the rest of this mess up!"

Noelle is twice as determined to ensure not a single enemy gets through her. Her goal was to make S/O not worry, not the other way around!

As a dutiful maid should!

Plus, S/O knows if they try to protest, Noelle is using that superhuman strength to make them stay put.

Furina's fists clench when she sees S/O try to smile despite the heavy hits on their body.

...No. Enough was enough.

S/O would not get themselves hurt anymore for someone like her.

(Furina) "Do you take me for a fool, S/O?! I demand that you take a seat this instant!"

Her expression is angry, angrier than S/O had ever seen Furina.

But it quickly simmers down once her voice starts shaking.

(Furina) "I'd never forgive myself if you tried to keep going simply to not make me worry...Just be honest and tell me you have to rest!"

The irony of being honest was not lost on her, but they already knew the truth about her.

It's only fair that they didn't lie about how they were either.

Xinyan walks in front of S/O, hands on her hips.

(Xinyan) "Heck no, ya ain't fine! Ya look like yer about to keel over!"

She rushes to them and ushers for them to sit on the ground, while getting a few bandages out.

(Xinyan) "'Fine' my butt! You're lookin awful! Please just take a rest!"

A sigh of relief leaves her body once S/O complies, allowing her to tend to all their bruises.

It pained her to even see them this injured, but if anything, they won't strain themselves any further for her.

[temptaetions]

spellbound secrets ✩ stray kids (m.list)

welcome to the spellbound institute of magic! have a look around, but don't peer too much — you could end up in a sticky web of secrets, lies, and love.

general content warnings: fluff, smut, angst, possible darker/heavy themes. warnings for individual fics vary, please read them accordingly before proceeding.

˖⁺‧₊ angel eyes - bang chan ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @temptaetions

✩ pairing: bcc x reader

✩ specialty: healing | memory inducement

✩ genre: teacher x student | strangers/idiots to lovers

✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ one's elixir - lee minho ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @felixitate

✩ pairing: lmh x reader

✩ specialty: alchemy | potions

✩ genre: acquaintances to lovers | academic mentor

✩ synopsis: you’re a walking disaster. not just in minho’s eyes but for anyone in the academy so when he was asked to supervise you, he had to agree to ensure everyone’s safety. but is it worth the risk to involve himself in something that even you can't control?

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ sweet escape - seo changbin ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @temptaetions

✩ pairing: scb x reader

✩ specialty: interdimentionalism (pocket dimension creation) | empathic transference

✩ genre: friends to lovers | secret admirer

✩ synopsis: forever, perfectly together…and tell me, boy, now wouldn’t that be sweet?

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ fleeting mirage - hwang hyunjin ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @felixitate

✩ pairing: hhj x reader

✩ specialty: illusionism | phantasmagoria

✩ genre: rivals to lovers | childhood sweethearts?

✩ synopsis: as both the top students in your program, getting along should always have been maintained between you. however, something always sparks any feud, hindering your cooperation by whatever means necessary. would you be able to put it aside when your positions start to get threatened?

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ cherry bomb - han jisung ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @temptaetions

✩ pairing: hjs x reader

✩ specialty: fusionism | sentimental awakening

✩ genre: coworkers to lovers | mutual pining

✩ synopsis: lips on my lips, hearts beating as one…but you slip out of my fingertips, every time you run.

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ in bloom - felix lee ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @felixitate

✩ pairing: lyb x reader

✩ specialty: floramancy | herbalism

✩ genre: classmates to lovers | forbidden love

✩ synopsis: watching him from afar while he tends to those flowers never fails to make your heart flutter. but for the sake of your secret, you’ve kept your distance. until when can you avoid him before he notices the signs of your waning abilities that only he can maybe help with?

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ silver springs - kim seungmin ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @temptaetions

✩ pairing: ksm x reader

✩ specialty: catoptromancy | empathic transference

✩ genre: exes to lovers | semi-first loves au

✩ synopsis: i know i could've loved you, but you would not let me, i'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you.

✩ read here!

˖⁺‧₊ shifting feelings - yang jeongin ₊‧⁺˖

✩ sorceress: @felixitate

✩ pairing: yji x reader

✩ specialty: polymorphy | divination

✩ genre: enemies to lovers | soulmates

✩ synopsis: he’s an enigma. with enchanting eyes that became everyone’s whispers each time he passed by but you’re not shaken. who’s to say you can’t unravel the truth when he slowly reveals this part of himself that he’s been persistently guarding the more you pry?

✩ read here!

host notes: hey! thank you for reading our collab, we planned this so quickly it makes my head spin. just for reference, all specialties in italics are secondary to their primary specialty, or an extension of it. everyone is a wizard. if you’d like to know more about each story then please head to our respective mail boxes! feel free to comment or send an ask our way to be added to a taglist. please have your age and/or year of birth in your description, otherwise you will not be added to the taglist. we hope you enjoy!

temptaetions © 2024 || felixitate © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[delzinrowe]

Got amy headcanons about being in a secret relationship with jjk? I feel like they'd all have separate reasons for keeping everything down low

For the sake of my sanity i'm not doing all of jjk like in my hc posts I hope you're not mad at me for that

A/N: I only choose a few ones, if you want someone specific I haven't picked just send me another ask and I'll do my best. But these are the characters I feel the most and feel I can portray well. Includes: Yuji, Megumi, Takuma ☆ Choso, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Yaga

Yuji just kind of accidentally kept it a secret. With Nobara around she talks a lot, and Yuji listens, he doesn't interrupt his friends. He was going to tell them about you two eventually, but whenever he wanted to tell them something came up, mostly missions. And after a while it slipped his mind that he hasn't told anyone. He's a kind and good guy, but he's not pushy when it comes to his own daily life. When he has good news he likes to share it with friends, but after a while of trying and failing he forgot about it.

Megumi is and has always been a more private and reserved person. He takes a while to warm up with others. So, once it got serious with you two he asked if you're okay with keeping it more private. Or rather, he implied it, you already knew it was gonna be more private. He doesn't like his private business being the talk of the town. After a while he would confide into Yuji, with the promise of him not telling anyone. Nobara? Hell no, out of the question. Megumi's main goal is to keep Gojo in the dark because the poor boy would never hear the end of it if Gojo ever found out he has a partner.

Takuma would only tell it to Nanami. He might have the feeling of shouting it from the rooftops that the person he likes also likes him back. But he would much rather just confide in his mentor. Which he does. And thanks to Nanami's private nature he doesn't tell anyone else, but he is proud and happy for Takuma. That's enough for our local skaterboy. Hearing that his mentor is happy that he's happy is all he needs, therefore no one else really needs to know about it. After a while he would lose that mindset and it would be replaced with "fuck it, I wanna show you off" which is what he does. He'd have his arm around you and walk around the entire school grounds and all over Tokyo just yelling "That's my partner!" "Watch out, happy boyfriend coming through." He's the epitome of golden retriever energy.

Choso doesn't really know the etiquette of dating, his worst fear is to do something wrong and lose you. He isn't sure if being in a relationship is something you keep private or parade around. He does see couples on the street and on tv, but it's still new to him. He's only had a human body for a few short months. The thought to introduce you to his sorcerer friends doesn't even really occur to him until you ask, which prompts a conversation between you where he asks you all sorts of questions on this matter. He eventually settles for only telling his brother Yuji as he's concered for your safety. He is a curse who murdered people after all.

Gojo keeps your relationship a secret from the very first moment, even if you wouldn't have expected it from him. Being known as the strongest came with a big target on his back, he's had bounties on his head since he was a toddler. Even if he can easily take care of any threat, he would do anything to keep you safe and out of danger. The less people know about his sole weakness the better. He does apologise and spoil you to make up for it, but he cannot and will not risk putting you in harms way. If you're involved his judgement isn't as clear as it should be.

Geto could potentially have two reasons, depending on if he stayed with jujutsu high or defected. If he stayed the most prominent reason to keep your relationship a secret would be Gojo. His best friend has his nose in everything, but it's also partly since he's known as one of the strongest and you prove a weakness, in that sense he's similar to Gojo. Now... if he defected, then it's solely to keep up appearances as cult leader. Since he's not stupid he knows that a lot of people only join his cult because of his looks, and he fears that once it's known he's in a steady relationship that his cult would lose a lot of members.

Nanami is not a secretive person, but he is a more private one. He doesn't like sharing his business everywhere. What's going on in his private life will remain private. He does not like to mix personal with work, therefore he would keep your relationship quiet because it simply has no place in his work life. Especially since coming home to you is his happy place that brings him peace, he wouldn't taint that by mixing personal and work.

Yaga is an authority figure. As principal he holds a certain status, while he doesn't care much for the authority he holds, he does need to be respected. It's therefor a mix between Gojo and Nanami, where he doesn't want to mix personal too much with work, but also doesn't wanna put a target on your back. Considering he is also the only one who knows how to make cursed dolls he is already the target of some people. Dragging you into all of this would only be harmful. The only one who really knows about you two is Panda, obviously.

[from-beyond-the-woods]

Alright I'll bite. I live in Israel, yes. I served in the army, yeah. Does Israel mistreat Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank? Absolutely. My friends who are still enlisted tell me about the shit show that goes in there every day. I get it, there are a million reasons to hate the government and the IDF and whoever else you point fingers to. No side is innocent.

But assholes on motorcycles and in pickup trucks broke through the fence, entered civilian towns and military outposts alike, and just started MASACARING EVERYONE. THIS SHIT IS UNPRECEDENTED. And some MIGHT tiptoe around the point, and say that taking over outposts is fair because it's an occupation force and colonialism and what have you, but for fucks sake

They entered civilian homes. They shot everyone who moved. In locked houses, they set the home on fire and shot the families as they fled. I heard the phone calls - people screaming and begging for their lives as terrorists are walking around their home, stealing possessions, massacring everyone.

They didn't just murder colonialists, militants, occupying forces. They murdered kids who should've gone to school today. Parents working local agriculture, teachers, normal guys with an office job. They murdered dozens of elderly people who couldn't run away.

Not only murdered. Kidnapped. Living and dead, put on pickup trucks and herded back to Gaza. Stripped naked, desecrated and paraded around Gaza. I dare you to tell me the party goers, who were at a rave near one of the Kibbutzim near the fence, deserved to be shot at as they ran to safety. Hundreds of people missing. My Instagram stories filled with their faces, and a phone number attached - "help us find our loved ones. Contact lost. If anyone knows anything-" and at this point I skip them because there's nothing I can do.

My friends are enlisted down there. We're just a bunch of 20 year olds. My best friend is defending one of the villages who were infiltrated, she's trading shots with gunmen who already murdered half the place, she's messaging me once in a while to let me know she's alive. She should've been home for the weekend, we were supposed to watch Chicago now that it's on Netflix. Now neither of us sleeps, she's putting her life on the line and I'm wide awake terrified of the moment they call me and tell me she's gone.

This is mostly a rant. If you read all of it, thanks. I live up north, no need to worry for my safety for now. I don't have a good ending for this. Just, stay safe, I guess.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (28) - Bounce

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.5k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Kicked around, cut, stitched and scarred, I'll take the hit but not the fall, I know no fear, still standing tall-

She snuck through the shadows, careful to avoid being detected right away. If she remembered correctly Ghost-Lion was meant to patrol this corridor and then, just around the corner, she would reach the personal area Ghostface used as his meeting room and base of operation. Sure enough, she caught a glimpse of the robes and followed after the man. She needed to be careful not to cut his robes or damage the mask. After all, she needed them.

So, as he began climbing the stairs she ran up to him, put him in a chokehold you taught to her years ago and squeezed as hard as she could.

He grunted, turning and pushing back into the wall, making her almost let go of him, but she held on. She had to. For Tara. For Tara’s sake and safety Sam needed to be stronger than anyone, and so, in a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand when he began pulling her arms away from his neck, she leaned back and let both him and her tumble down the stairs.

~X~

Following Sam’s directions, you opened the doors and came face to face with a gun pointed at you.

“Shit, Y/N, it’s you,” Kirby sighed, lowering her gun.

Your eyes widened when you saw the state everyone was in. Anya was dead, Kirby had blood on her hands and was trying to help another woman out while Tara shakily walked over to you, and you automatically pulled her into your arms. “I’m here now,” you whispered softly, not entirely sure what happened here, but at least Tara was unharmed.

“Sam is trying to sacrifice herself,” Tara cried into your chest, and you had to pull away slightly.

“What?” you whispered, suddenly out of breath, but it made sense. The look on her face, her actions, she was tired of this and it wasn’t the first time she thought her death would solve everything.

But before you or anyone else could say anything you heard the sound of yacht sailing away, prompting you and Tara to run outside.

“Sam!” Tara cried out as the two of you saw the two figures through the windows, both wearing Ghostface masks and there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do to reach the yacht in time.

“You’re the MMA fighter, right? I have the boat, I can get you on board of that yacht,” the wounded woman said as she stumbled to her feet. You guessed this was Kirby’s mole, as well as the one who got hurt by the Ghostface you and Sam just killed.

“I owe you one,” you nodded. There was no doubt in your heart. One of those two was Sam, and you were going to bring her self-sacrificing ass back to Tara.

“Y/N,” Tara grabbed your hand and you just leaned down to kiss her.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, unlike Sam you had no intention of dying, or leaving Tara to raise your children alone. You knelt in front of her and kissed her belly twice. “I promise.”

“You better,” Tara whispered, letting go of your hand. You could see it in her eyes, though she was afraid, though she was worried for your life, she still had faith in you, she still believed you’d come back safe and with Sam with you.

~X~

She was staring right at her goal, at the end of this curse. She’d end the cult, her own life, and no one would ever target Tara again. She would be free from Billy’s legacy.

The sprained ankle and a couple of cuts on her body she got from fighting Ghost-Lion would be a disadvantage, but she’d push through the pain and finish the man off as quickly as possible. That was, at the very least, what Sam planned to do.

“I didn’t think you’d be the last one standing,” Ghostface told her. “I guess that’s the king of animals for you,” he chuckled a bit.

“Something like that, I guess. What now?” Sam approached him slowly, ready to stab him in the back.

“I’ll just start over, after all, much like killers from the Stab movies, we, as well, are replaceable. Though, this time I’ll start with killing Samantha,” he paused for a moment, looking ahead toward the open sea. “No more dramatic final girls, I’ll just kill her.”

His voice was calm, but Sam could sense the tension in it. Maybe it was just the fact that his entire plan fell apart in one night, or a few days at best, it didn’t really matter. But then she saw the glint of the knife and her eyes widened. He knew.

“I guess loyalty really is dogs’ greatest trait, only you weren’t loyal to me, were you, Samantha Carpenter,” he slashed at her and she just barely dodged being cut open. Instead, the blade cut through the robes and left her with a small cut on her abdomen instead. “Ghost-Lion was taller,” he simply said, continuing his assault as Sam stumbled back, unable to properly regain her footing with her ankle.

She was supposed to catch him off guard, not the other way around, but she still managed to catch his wrist and twist it to get him to drop the knife.

But her sprained ankle and the pain from falling down the stairs proved to be almost insurmountable disadvantage as he managed to lift her up and slam her against the controls, pushing the lever and speeding the yacht up in the process.

Sam gasped as the mask fell off her head and nearly blacked out when he punched her in the face, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. She lifted her leg up and kicked him in the balls, making him stumble back and drop to his knees.

“It’s about time I see who you are,” she didn’t know what to expect. Would it be someone she knew, even just vaguely, or would it be a complete stranger. What she saw made her freeze. The man looked like he was desperately trying to copy Billy Loomis, and in her disoriented state of mind she clutched her head and saw her father instead.

“I gotta say, he sure captured my look,” the monster in her head laughed at the sight and Sam shut her eyes, desperately trying to block the hallucinations out.

That one moment of weakness was enough for Ghostface to grab her and throw her to the floor. Before she could react he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the floor.

“I’m not going to stab you Samantha, I want to feel you die,” he said, an insane and sinister grin on his face told her everything. Her only hope was that the yacht would hit something and push him off her, but she still tried to pry his fingers from her throat.

~X~

The yacht was speeding up and you knew you’d only have one chance to do this.

“These aren’t good odds,” Kirby’s mole told you.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed and got ready to jump and grab onto the fence. “We don’t exactly have other options, go back to the harbor, get that wound properly treated, Sam and I got this!” you told the woman and jumped just barely reaching and clinging to the fence. “Oh, shit!” this definitely wasn’t as easy as regular pull ups, especially with your wounded palm, but you managed to climb over the fence. “All good! Now go!” you yelled and took off. Sam would likely be in the control room or however it was called.

You burst through what looked like important doors and saw Sam struggling to push the man off her as he tried to strangle her. He was no longer wearing his mask, but the robes made it clear he was the cult leader, the Ghostface. The sound of doors slamming against the wall made him look up and it gave Sam enough of an opportunity to push him off and roll away from him as you rushed in, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.

“Y/N!” Sam coughed, as she tried to regain her breath, but your entire attention was on the man as you slammed an uppercut into his jaw and followed it up by several hooks, each one gaining more momentum as you punched him from one side to another. Blood spilled from his mouth and nose and he stumbled back. You took a deep breath and pulled out a knife and before he could regain his composure you ended his life by slitting his throat.

You took a few deep breaths and turned to Sam. “You okay?” she wasn’t exactly okay, she had a few shallow cuts and her ankle was probably sprained, but she was alive.

Sam nodded, leaning back against the wall and tossing the knife aside. It was finally over. “On a scale from one to ten, how angry at me are you?”

“Nine point as long as Tara wants you in her life it doesn’t matter,” you were angry, but how you felt didn’t matter as much as Tara getting to keep her sister in her life. “But you better make it right for her, and Sam,” you paused, glaring at her. “She can never know you were the one who framed me,” you decided and went over to the levers and all the other things you have never seen in your life. “Right, let’s figure this shit out and just go home.”

Sam didn’t say a word, instead she just took what you said in and waited.

“As worthless as it is, I’m sorry I got you arrested,” she apologized, and you gritted your teeth.

“Just stop talking, Sam,” you really didn’t need reminders of that day.

~X~

Agent Woolf came back alone, without you or Sam, and barely clinging to consciousness as she stumbled out of the boat. Kirby quickly ran over to her and helped her over to where her and Tara were. Tara was happy the woman was still alive, and that she’d likely be fine, but she still worried. You and Sam were taking too long and the yacht was getting further away.

“They’ll be fine, Tara,” Kirby told her, but she was starting to lose hope.

“They better be,” she whispered, and then, just as she said that she saw the yacht turning in the distance and her heart soared. There could only be one reason for that!

A few long minutes later she saw you and Sam coming down from the yacht, and though Sam was limping she didn’t look like her life was in danger.

“Go,” Kirby pushed her lightly as she remained frozen just watching you and Sam coming closer to her. And as if broken out of her trance she just ran, jumping as she reached you and Sam and hugging both of you as tightly as she could.

“Thank goodness!” she cried out kissing you and then burying her face in Sam’s neck. “You asshole! Why would you do this to me?!” she felt her lungs burning as she sobbed.

“Tara I-“ Sam tried to speak.

“Not a word! You hear me! You don’t deserve to apologize, you just, you left me again!” she took a step back and nearly pushed Sam away, but then, through her tears, she took in Sam’s appearance. The sunken cheeks, the lost weight, the few cuts Sam received, as well as the way Sam was limping, and she just wailed and nearly dropped to her knees. She would have, if Sam didn’t reach her in time and pulled her into a hug.

“I missed you so much Tara, I don’t deserve to apologize, but I’m so, so sorry!” Sam was crying as well, clinging to Tara so hard it almost hurt.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to all the time she spent worrying for Sam, all the fear and despair and the need to have her sister back by her side. And she finally had Sam back in her life, and she didn’t ever want to let Sam stay away from her for this long again.

~X~

She didn’t deserve it, but around the beginning of May she walked out of the courtroom with essentially a slap on the wrist. Released on parole because of her efforts to bring the cult down and evidence she gave them that was putting people behind bars. She should have been in prison as well. She should have been punished, but she didn’t get that, she was almost rewarded instead.

Her impulses to kill, to hurt people were overlooked in favor of who she killed and what she brought. And Sam hated herself for that.

Could she ever truly forgive herself for everything that happened? For all the ways she put the people she loved in danger? For all the people she cared about that were dead?

She couldn’t know for sure, but she had her doubts as she approached the police car driven by the woman that was a mole in the cult. Tara would be pissed when she finds out Sam didn’t call her, but she wasn’t certain of the outcome of the trial, she didn’t even tell Tara when it would be. Just in case she was sentenced to years and years in prison, she didn’t want Tara to have to see her being taken away. She’d go and visit her baby sister, and you, though that would be a bit awkward, but she just needed to collect her thoughts. Thankfully, Kirby respected that.

“Congratulations on your freedom,” the woman said as Sam sat down next to her.

“Thanks. Not just for this, for everything you did,” Sam said, it was almost funny how she was yet to learn the woman’s name.

“No need to thank me, I was doing my job,” she replied and began driving Sam away from the court.

“Am I ever going to learn your name?” Sam asked out of the blue.

The woman grinned and turned to Sam when they reached the red light. She offered her hand to Sam and smiled softly. “I am Drew Woolf,” she said.

And so, Sam properly met the lady that was for some time her only ally in the cult.

~X~

It didn’t have anything to do with Ghostface showing up again, Tara and you had the conversation even before she got pregnant. You both wanted to let your kids grow away from the busy streets, to have clean air, or as clean as it could get, and lots of space to play around. No more apartments, no more busy streets. You wanted to settle down, to have complete control over your home. So, you went and purchased a fairly big empty patch of land in Colorado Springs, a short drive away from Pikes Peak and though it took some time, especially since Ghostface thing happened, the house was built and you were finally ready to move in in the middle of July.

You parked your car outside the house. A two-story tall building, fairly large and spacious, with a yet to be filled backyard. But that was a project for another day, or, well, a year, since a lot of your attention would be taken up by the kids that would be born by the end of September.

You got out of the car, smiling at Tara and winking, silently telling her to stay in her seat as you went around and opened the doors for her.

“My lady, your hand please,” you bowed slightly, offering Tara your hand, and she laughed, accepting your joking gesture.

“It looks good from the outside,” she said, the house looked secure, and, because you had to be careful, there were motion sensor cameras around the house already installed. “Secure,” she smiled as you hugged her from behind, your hands resting on her belly.

“We’ll be fine,” you whispered, kissing her cheek and smiling when you felt one of the twins kicking. They were active babies, and if anyone asked you Tara looked incredible.

“Mhm, let’s go inside,” she leaned back against you for a moment and then took your hand and pulled you along. The basement was elevated, and only four feet of it were beneath the ground, for one reason. The gym. You separated the basement into two parts, a garage for your car and an empty space if Tara ever decided she wanted one as well, and then there was a still empty separated part that was meant to be used as your gym. For the sake of convenience, the gym had a small bathroom, just in case you wanted to take a quick shower, or simply wash your hands before going upstairs. The gym was also connected to the first floor via indoor stairs. Tara led you up, to a spacious living room, that doubled as a mini library of books and movies and all the things you and Tara learnt to enjoy over the years, your gaming console included, a very nice kitchen and dining room. There was also the hall leading to the main entrance and the stairs that led to the second floor where you had five rooms, one of which was designated as home office for you and Tara.

Overall, it was a big house, maybe even a bit too big for your soon to be family of four, but you wanted a room for each of the kids, and your own room and a guestroom so, that was the logic behind the number of rooms on the second floor.

Tara kissed you on the lips when you finally sat down on your bed. “It’s perfect,” she whispered against your lips before she pushed you to lie down and straddled you, a mischievous smile on her face.

~X~

September was coming to a close, as was Tara’s pregnancy, and one slow night you were just lazing around in the living room, watching some TV show. Tara had to leave you for a few minutes, so you just scrolled trough the news until she came back.

“You know, this is at least partly your fault,” Tara groaned as she sat down next to you. She’d give birth any day now, so you were both extra careful and always ready to drive to the hospital if the kids decided to rush things.

You gently lifted her feet up to the sofa and took her socks off. Giving Tara a massage became a bit of a habit, and she repeatedly showed you how much she appreciated your efforts. “How so?” you humored her as you began rubbing her left foot. It became her go-to joke lately, a tiny tease and complain do to all the extra weight she was carrying around.

“How? You got me pregnant,” she nudged you jokingly with her right foot.

You grinned at that. “Mhm, my strap can do anything,” you chuckled when Tara jerked slightly. You accidentally tickled her, and her feet were ridiculously ticklish.

She sighed contently. “Wouldn’t that be nice, no medical procedures and all that,” she placed her hand on her belly. “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said, smiling widely all of a sudden. “They are kicking more often. Tiny MMA fighters,” she chuckled as you laughed.

You reached over, placing your hand next to hers. Soon, soon your children would be born and it would no longer be just you and Tara, it would be four of you.

“Y/N,” she spoke softly, almost timidly and you looked into her eyes.

“Yeah?” you instinctively moved to hold her hand.

“What if they end up having asthma?” she asked.

Your eyes softened. It wasn’t asthma itself Tara was worried about. She knew both of you would take care of your children and love them regardless of their health. It was the idea of the children, or even one of the kids inheriting something she had, in her eyes passing down her asthma felt like hurting them.

You opened your mouth but closed them in order to properly phrase your answer. “If they do, they’ll have us to teach them how to live without it affecting them too much,” you remembered sleepless nights with Tara when you were kids, you remembered how worried you were, how much she would struggle to breathe during the worst nights, no matter what you did. You remembered how weak and delirious from the sickness she would be, how she would end up being so exhausted she often wouldn’t remember everything.

~X~

One such time was shortly after Tara turned seventeen, a few days after Christmas. You came back from a fight to find her just about ready to pass out at your doorstep, she was just sitting in the hall, barely conscious when you climbed up the stairs of the apartment building.

“Shit! Tara!” you rushed to her side and picked her up off the floor. “You’re burning up, damn it why didn’t you call me?” you managed to unlock your doors and quickly put her in your bed, sitting her up and letting her lean against the propped-up pillow. You were gone for one day and this happened. You knew her mother wasn’t at home, the damn drunk, but Tara didn’t even tell you she was sick, and this wasn’t how she should be after only one day.

“Fight. You were busy,” she mumbled, pulling your blanket over her body.

You turned the heating on and poured water into the kettle. “You know I would have thrown the fight if I knew,” you would scold her later, once she recovered, for now you were looking for medicine that could help her. You had a bunch of medicine thanks to Tara’s frail health. “Right, temperature first,” you fussed over her like you usually did when she was sick. “I should really take you to the doctor,” but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“You’re all I need,” she muttered. Doctors were expensive and she made you swear you wouldn’t take her to the hospital and pay for the bills a long time ago because she knew you’d pay if you took her there. You did do that once, about two years ago, and Tara still complained about that every now and then. She tried to pay you back, but you wouldn’t budge.

“Tara,” you sighed, respecting her wishes for now, but if she didn’t get better by the morning you’d actually take her to the hospital, promises be damned.

“Just come here,” she sat up and you knew what she wanted, so you got behind her and reached out for the pillow, only for Tara to place her hand over yours. “Skip it, please,” she just lied down on your chest and, though she coughed afterwards, took a deep breath. “I love you, you know? I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” she said in her exhaustion, and you just held her.

“I love you too, you dumbass,” you whispered, your heart breaking when she got hit with another coughing fit and all you could do was hold her and rub her back.

Tara was better tomorrow morning, her temperature dropped as the night went on and she woke up in the bed alone around noon. That’s how exhausted she was.

“Hey, sleepy head, how are you feeling?” you sat down on the bed with the glass of water and her medicine in hand.

Tara leaned her head back, groaning a bit. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she apologized and winced when the sudden movement made her dizzy.

“Apology accepted if you’re apologizing for not telling me you were sick,” you sighed, waiting for her to properly wake up.

“You know what I mean,” she mumbled, and you knew, unfortunately, you knew. She was apologizing for relying on you again. Finally, she accepted the medicine and leaned back once again, she was still a bit weak, so she needed to rest. “I hate being sick, I can’t separate what’s real and what’s a fever dream,” she complained as you got up to make her a breakfast. “Like, last night I dreamt you, you know what, never mind, it’s too embarrassing,” her face was red, and you assumed sickness was only partly to blame.

~X~

You never found out what her fever dreams were. It didn’t matter now. You moved from the end of the sofa and hugged Tara from behind. You kissed the top of her head and pulled her close to you. “Whatever happens, whether they are healthy or not, we’ll be there for them every step of the way,” you whispered, absolutely certain of your words.

“I know,” Tara nodded, turning her head to kiss you. “My Love,” she rested her head against your chest and listened to your heartbeat.

~X~

A few days later it was happening! It happened! It…

You were about to pass out, you weren’t ready for this! You held Tara through her labor as much as she held you and you nearly fainted when you heard the first baby, a boy, crying at exactly fourteen minutes after two a.m. only for the second one, this time a girl, to come out twenty-three minutes later.

“Congratulations! You got a boy and a girl!” the midwives brought the two babies and gave them to Tara as she was resting, and you couldn’t help but cry as you watched the two bundles of joy.

“You two really are tiny,” she whispered, bringing them closer and carefully hugging them.

Could you touch them? You were an MMA fighter, you were used to violence, not babies that were born less than an hour ago!

“Hey, come here,” Tara whispered, exhaustion vanished from her eyes the moment she got to hold them, and you swallowed the lump in your throat and reached over to touch them.

“I…” you couldn’t say anything, you were completely speechless.

“I know,” Tara smiled, she could feel the tremble of your hands on her own, as you chose to place them there just in case. “I thought of names.”

“I’m fine with any names you want,” you quickly told her, only now realizing you didn’t really have this conversation.

“How about Zack and Susan?”

You just froze and looked at Tara, honestly unable to process all the emotions you were feeling, so, instead, you just nodded, leaning over to quickly kiss her on the lips to hopefully convey even the smallest bit of what you were feeling.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Taglist: @alexkolax

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 4: something to look forward to

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: You and Edith make significant progress on your mission to put Lucille behind bars; Thomas makes a confession before you go to sleep

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: ghosts; a lil bit of steam [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; more pining; simp Thomas

The ink had dried enough on the final document you were working on duplicating for tonight that you could group them together and place the original papers back in Lucille's hiding place. Tomorrow morning if ever she were to check on them, she would be none the wiser of what had been transpiring over the last two weeks. You repeatedly clenched and unclenched your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them after writing with barely a pause for break over the last few hours.

"Tomorrow we'll be done with all the documents," you whispered into the silence, feeling Edith's presence nearby as you made your way to Thomas' workshop. "I'll need you to show me where the phonograph cylinders are hidden, and if you know which one has Lucille's demented confession…"

"I'll show you the way," she confirmed. "And I'll make sure that none of the more…how do I put this…bloodthirsty spirits don't touch you. They tend to be a bit overly protective of their turf."

"The what?" You froze in place at her mention of bloodthirsty spirits. You had enough of a fright when you'd first "met" her and Enola, you might not survive encountering their less agreeable companions. The feel of someone nudging you from behind had you moving down the corridor again.

"Don't you worry about them, Y/N. I'll do my part to keep them away, explain to them that you're our friend, and you'll put an end to Lucille's lifelong murder spree. It might take time for them to fully understand, but they will."

Once you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, you heard the exaggerated groan that belonged to your fleeting husband. Checking the candle in your hand, there was only about a thumb's worth left.

"Right on schedule," Edith remarked before you felt a nudging sensation on your shoulder. "You know he must really care for you if he's willing to endure being with her for the sake of your safety. Before she made him go back out into the city to find a new wife--well, a new victim, he looked gaunt. Almost like he found his life grotesque. Then he came back here with you and…there was color in his face again. Like he's allowed himself to live while he wooed and married you. There's a happiness in him when he's with you that I only ever saw glimpses of back when I was--"

Her words fell dead, but you had a feeling you knew what the sentiment was. Back when I was alive. Back when I was his wife.

"Why Miss Edith Cushing, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing matchmaker with your ex-husband and his current charlatan of a wife," you mumbled, trying not to look to deeply into her words, her testimony of Thomas' time before you. You were already having enough trouble keeping your affections for him at bay whenever he engaged in your routine of a kiss to cap off the night, marking yet another rung on the progression ladder. Lucille's incarceration becoming ever closer.

You decided to hide the duplicated papers in between the pages of his sketchbook, thinking the chances were slim that Lucille would look into them since he only kept concept art of the toys he wished to work on within it. Flipping through the pages to evenly distribute the additional papers, you found a set of sketches that had absolutely nothing to do with toy designs.

The last few pages that he'd worked on in the journal were filled with sketches of you. Some depicted you asleep, others as if the image he had in mind was of you next to him at the dining table. And a full page that showed the bedroom you shared with the baronet, you perched on the edge, a light wash of orange painted on the page, like the scene was illuminated by firelight.

That was the day you arrived at Allerdale Hall. The fleeting moments of desirous bliss you had before reality came crashing down on you.

"You say this marriage is all an act for you both now, but it doesn't look that way. Not from where I'm standing…well, floating." Both of you shared a chuckle before she posed a question at you. "Y/N something I noticed at night when he makes his way back to you…there's an excitement in him, as if he can't move fast enough."

"I--I didn't know about that part," you answered her in hushed tones as you made your way to your shared bedroom, maneuvering the barely moonlit halls with what little candlelight remained. "I usually try not to look at him before we sleep. I fail, of course, but I make the effort. Granting his request for a kiss after he washes the night off of him was already a miscalculation on my part--"

"Completely understandable miscalculation," she quipped, managing to quietly open the bedroom door wide open. "Far too handsome for me to even think of knowing any better back then."

"My thoughts exactly," you mumbled, stepping into the bedroom and disposing of the used candlewax before stretching and allowing yourself to relax from the night's clandestine activities. "Goodnight, Edith."

"I'll talk to the spirits inhabiting the corridor where the cylinders are hidden," she offered, a faint whispering joining her once again before you heard her echoing chuckle. "It seems your husband's rushing to make his way to you. You still have quite the night ahead. Goodnight, my friend."

You could feel the fatigue setting in as you let the tub fill for Thomas' bath before putting away your tools and your blades, mentally preparing yourself for another night of insufficient sleep. Just as you had for the better part of the last two weeks.

Right as you made your way back to your side of the bed and shook your hair loose from your bun, Thomas walked through the open door. You gave him a small smile. "I should be done with the documents tomorrow, Edith and I will work on transcribing the recording cylinders that can lead the case more to Lucille than you two days from now at the latest."

"That's wonderful news, darling," he beamed at you, running his gaze over you briefly before walking toward the bathroom. "I shall see you in a few moments," he told you, his voice echoing across the tiles. A few seconds later the sound of the water sloshing and a sinfully satisfied groan filled the room as he sat into the tub. "You truly are a godsend, my wife. Thank you."

You did your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach hearing him call you that. You wouldn't hear it for much longer with the progress you were making. "You're welcome," you answered back, fighting back your own sounds of relief once your back hit the bed and you allowed yourself to finally relax for the night.

The cumulative efforts of the last dozen or so days seem to have finally taken its toll on you, your eyes fluttering shut as soon as your head hit the pillow. You hadn't been able to hear the sound of Thomas padding his feet on the floor and back to you, or his little gasp as he saw you in your slumbering state.

"No…" he sighed, climbing into bed with you. "Y/N, darling, please tell me you haven't completely fallen asleep yet," he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hmm?" You leaned in to his touch, feeling a strange sense of comfort when your cheek rubbed against his slightly calloused hand. "'M awake…" you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. He gave you a tender smile when your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but return it.

It was only in these moments just before you both went to sleep, your parts in this perilous operation done for the night, that you could allow yourself to almost feel as if you were a normal married couple. Just laying in bed together before going to sleep, sharing a quick goodnight kiss before he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

Perhaps even indulge yourself, even for a moment, in the dangerous truth that once this was all over, you would miss these fleeting moments of peace with him. You'd miss how he held you through the night and how you'd wake up wrapped in his arms. How in the last few days he would greet you in the morning with a soft kiss to your nose before you both made your way out of bed and stepped out of your room.

You would miss him when all this was over. When you'd both signed the divorce papers and went on your separate ways, and you were back in your apartment in the city, going to bed alone, you would miss him.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a small sound coming from the back of his throat as he sighed into the kiss, almost as if he was relieved. "This is the only thing getting me through the nights," he said solemnly, settling more comfortably into the bed as he kept kissing you. "Knowing that this was what awaited me when I get back."

Instead of your usual night routine of a few kisses and he would pull you into his arms, both of you falling asleep to the sound of the other's breath evening out, he moved his body closer, kissing his way to your neck, his hand traveling down the side of your body until it settled at your waist. His lips began to trace along the neckline of your nightgown, the contented hums against your skin combined with the feel of his lips on you had you struggling for breath. "Thomas--"

"It should be you," he whimpered, his exhales warming your skin. "I should be spending my night with you. Laying with you." He kept on kissing along your neckline, his other hand pulling along the string that exposed your décolletage and he immediately pressed his lips to your chest, above your heart. "You're my wife, I should be with you."

He kissed his way back to your lips, your shock from his confession letting his tongue slip past your lips and tangle with your own. It was like flames licked all along your body at the contact, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingers weaved into his onyx curls.

"Thomas, wait--" you tried to say, placing your hands on his chest in a paltry attempt to get him to pause for a moment, failing to fight against your eyes fluttering closed and your entire body melting under him the moment his tongue delicately ran along the roof of your mouth.

"I want to lay with you," he said once he pulled away, looking at you with those wide pleading eyes that likened him to a pup asking for a treat. "May I?"

For the love of all things good in this world say yes, you hissed at yourself. You struggled to breathe properly, fighting against every instinct to give in as he repeatedly whispered "please" into your skin. Trying to not let the curiosity and desire consume you and see how far your husband was willing to go.

This was the fantasy you wanted to lose yourself in, where by some miracle when all this was over and you both made it out alive, that you'd found something with each other that neither of you wanted to lose. That after all this perhaps you could have a life together, preferably far away from Allerdale Hall and the figurative and literal ghosts that roam the corridors.

The fantasy that perhaps when you were both safe from Lucille and she was serving her time behind bars, locked away where she couldn't harm anyone anymore, that Thomas might not want to sign the divorce papers. Because maybe he was falling in love, too.

"We've come so far already, we can't afford to lose focus now," you answered him, your voice coming out so small it was like the words all but refused to get through the lump in your throat. "Once all this is done, and we're free of her, you'll be free to do whatever you please…with whomever you please."

The last part left a bitter taste in your mouth, like it physically pained you to say the words.

"You're right," he sighed, leaning away enough so that he could look at you. The expression on his face was akin to that of a wounded pup, making the guilt and regret from your decision overwhelm your system. "Of course." He moved over to his side of the bed, taking a breath before hesitantly touching his fingers to yours. "May I still hold you?"

You didn't think twice, moving over to him and settling into his arms. "Yes, of course." The words refused to be spoken, but you'd found a strange comfort in his embrace. That despite the very real danger you both found yourselves in, and the looming dire consequences of Lucille and the business end of her cleaver if you made so much as one misstep on this perilous endeavor of yours, you felt almost a safety in his warm embrace.

And while no one would ever be able to get you to admit it, it made getting up out of bed in the mornings near impossible. You didn't want to leave him. You wanted him all to yourself.

All the more reason why you needed to be done with this and go your separate ways. You should never be so selfish as to beg him to stay with you and deny him yet another freedom. So much had already been stolen from him.

He brushed a lock of your hair away from your face before asking softly, "How long do you reckon before Scotland Yard comes here after you send the papers?"

"Not long," you answered him, your words full of confidence in your peers. "I'll include a summary of my findings to help them through the papers I've sent them, process them faster. I'll also try and emphasize the urgency of our situation, that we're currently living in a manor with a woman that has the intention and means, not to mention the stomach, to kill me. That we have very good reason to believe our lives are in imminent danger. Should get them moving pretty quick."

"And what are we to do until they arrive?" You could feel him tensing as he anticipated your response.

Bile flooded your stomach from what you had to tell him. "We keep routine." His beautiful face looked so pained as you said the words. "She has to believe that there's nothing wrong, that everything's going to plan. If she gets even the slightest whiff that we're up to something and she kills me. Maybe even you if she finds out that you helped."

He took a shuddering breath, pulling you closer against him so he could press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's hope they move quickly then," he mumbled against you, pressing more kisses on the same spot as he took calming breaths. "I can barely stomach any more of it." His breath hitched at his words, his tone rife with shame.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, placing your hand on his chest, feeling his pulse sprinting like a madman. "This burden shouldn't be on you. Never should have been. She's stolen so much from you…" Your sentiment caught in the back of your throat as you did your damnedest to fight back tears. "I'll do my best to make sure she doesn't steal any more of your life away."

"What if she figures out what we've been up to? Or if she gets impatient and realizes there's no money coming after all this time?"

It took you a moment before you could answer, the implication hanging over you both now like the Sword of Damocles. "Then Scotland Yard will arrive here to a corpse. Either mine or hers."

Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I won't let her hurt you, I swear it." He stole a few more kisses from you before he cradled your head against his chest. "You should sleep, I can feel how tired you are."

"Exhausted," you confessed, settling into his embrace, the comfort from his hold blanketing over you as your cheek rubbed against the soft hairs on his chest. "Goodnight, husband."

You couldn't resist calling him that. In a few short weeks you'd never be able to again.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, stroking your hair before he whispered, "Goodnight, my darling wife."

As the minutes passed, and the only sounds that filled the bedroom were your breathing and the crackling of the fireplace, Thomas found himself unable to succumb to sleep just yet. He was still riddled with so many questions that he couldn't bring himself to ask you quite yet.

What if by some freak accident of a chance, Lucille comes across one of your colleagues when she runs her errands in the city and they were to mention who you were, and what you did before you married him? What if now that she was armed with this new information, she deemed you too much of a threat and decided to do away with you like she'd done with so many other innocent women?

What if she decided to make it even worse, and ordered him to kill you instead? Spout some nonsensical notion that he needed to get his hands dirty this time around so she could see if he still had the stomach for it?

He knew he wouldn't be able to hurt you, that he would be completely unwilling to. But would he be able to protect you against Lucille?

And the question that had him looking upon the coming weeks with a mix of dread and hope, all depending on how you would react if he were to even muster up the courage to say the words: What if you stayed together after this fleeting partnership of yours? What if you were open to exploring what a life together would truly be like? Move away from Allerdale Hall and find a place in the city?

"What if I begged you not to leave me?" he whispered into the empty silence, stroking the backs of his fingers along your cheek. "What if I've fallen in love with my wife, and I want to turn our marriage into something real?"

A/N: *popping out my head from my writing hidey hole* Well hi there! Been a long while since I updated this story, but I can promise you now…I didn't abandon it 🫡 And we're picking up with our precious meow meow baronet big tiddy goth husband really showing his hand here that he's catching feelings 🥹

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[daenysx]

hiii it's the crying anon !!! (lol) ibe been so sad today bc i literally failed my ap exam like i did terrible and i e just been so sad and in my head all day :/// i literally just need a hug like im so sad and i need a james potter rn :( would you kind writing something for this ??? if not, it's totally okay my lovely , have a great day !!!

i'm so sorry, baby, i hope this helps making you feel better a bit!! you can always reach out when you're sad (if you wanna talk to someone!!) i'll be here. love u <33333

james potter x fem!reader

you try to stay calm as you knock on james's door.

he shares the apartment with sirius and remus but you know they are not here right now. it's a relief, no matter how close friends you are with them, you wouldn't want them to see you cry.

when james opens the door, you first spot his glasses. his hair looks messy, wild waves finding their own shape on his head, his skin warm. he looks like he's just woken up, you feel sorry for interrupting his sleep.

"i'm sorry, jamie." you begin saying. "were you sleeping?"

james quickly holds your hand to welcome you inside. "just fell asleep on the couch, angel. i'm glad you wake me, it always messes with my night sleep."

you give him a broken smile. james closes the door, he helps you take off your jacket. you put your bag on the floor, slipping out of your shoes, never looking at james's direction as you make your way to his bedroom. he follows you.

the room smells like him everywhere, and the safety you feel around james overwhelms you so hard, it hits you. you start crying without any control, without trying to stop yourself. james looks surprised but he reacts quickly as always, he holds your arms gently, then his kind fingers are on your chin to see your face.

"sweetheart." he says. "what's- what's wrong?"

"my exam." you manage to say and he understands. james doesn't like asking unnecessary questions about a situation when you cry your eyes out, especially. you can tell everything later, when you calm down. he knows the exam is important, he knows how much you studied, and how stressed you were days before.

"i'm sorry." he says, reaching for you. "oh, my baby." he coos, you feel so vulnerable in his arms as he holds you, your face tucked in his neck with his hands rubbing on the tense muscles of your back. you cry against him, but james is strong. he'll hold you as long as you need him.

he strokes your hair, drying up your fresh tears as much as he can. you lean on him, your legs feel numb, and your head hurts. you tried to stay strong all day long, keeping a neutral face even though you were disappointed, but now that it's safe, you let out every emotion that begs to be free.

james whispers gentle words against your ear. he doesn't know if they help but he never liked silence. you lift your head to see him, your wet cheeks and wobbly lip crash his heart. you never deserve to cry. he rubs two desperate thumbs on your cheeks to get your pretty face back from tears.

"my head hurts, jamie." you say. "can i have some water?"

"of course." james says. "sit on the bed, angel, i'll be right back."

he takes a bottle of cold water from the fridge. you don't like eating when you're upset, james knows this, so he won't ask if you're hungry. he returns to his room, gets on his knees to reach your spot on bed.

you take a few sips from the bottle. it helps cooling down your throat. you look at james's worried face. he tries to hide it but his forehead has wrinkles, they always appear when he gets nervous.

"i'm okay." you say. "i'm sorry, that was- a lot. i did really bad, i just-"

"baby." he hushes you with a kiss on your hand. you look like you're explaining for his sake and not because you want to speak. "you have nothing to be sorry for. let's talk about this later, okay? you need to get some sleep."

you nod gratefully. james gives you one of his rugby team t-shirts. you change into it quickly, your legs stay bare. he helps you get under the covers, joins you exactly two minutes later after taking off his clothes and texting remus to let him know you'll be sleeping in his room.

he is so warm, you wrap your legs around his immediately. your head stays on his chest as he holds your waist and plays with your fingers with his other hand. you take quiet breaths to relax, your eyes hurt from all those crying.

"it's all gonna be okay." he silently promises. "can you try not to think of it for a few hours, lovely girl? i know it's hard but- you need to sleep on it. you need to get some rest."

"okay." you say. you have no energy left. james turns to his side to press you better against him. you think you'll be better once your breathing turns normal. he strokes your hair gently and squeezes your body just the way you like. you wrap a tired arm around his waist. closing your eyes, you try to forget about everything.

james kisses your forehead. he thinks a good cup of coffee and your favorite breakfast can make the morning a bit better for you. he'll listen if you wanna talk, answer your questions if you have any. he thinks about how upset you've been all day long and a protective wave washes over him again. his arms around you has never been this tight.

[lesbianashleywilliams]

So those of you who have been following me may have noticed that I all but disappeared for about three months...well, that's because I've been planning to go to Japanese language school, and the wheels have really begun to start turning!!!!!!

I have been given the opportunity of my lifetime to be able to attend a Japanese language course at the International Study Institute in Tokyo's Shinjuku Ward. The course runs for a year, with the opportunity to extend it to two years, if my grades and money are sound [insert sound of children cheering here].

Being able to study Japanese locally and long-term has been a life goal of mine since I was fourteen. Though I'll probably never be able to fulfill my teenage dream of being an interpreter/translator for expats, this feels like the next best thing. Due to suffering from several comorbid chronic conditions that have majorly altered my life, most notably the beast known as systemic lupus erythematosus, I will probably never be able to seize another chance like this ever again. I won't be going in as a total novice, as I was able to take a year's worth of 1000-level Japanese language courses in college…before I had to drop out…… Since then I've been self-studying and using language exchange apps for practice, but nothing will beat the experience of using it in the day-to-day.

At this point in time (January 2024), my first six months of tuition have already been paid for. I am currently in a quiet waiting period while I wait to get to the next steps of the Certificate of Eligibility/Student Visa process. Before that, though, I need to secure my flight and housing. For the sake of my health, safety, privacy and comfort, a sharehouse will not be an option; I will have to seek a private apartment. I am here today to request assistance with the aforementioned flight and initial housing costs. It's still too early to commit to either of those, but:

The average cost of flexible one-way flights from where I am to either of the two Tokyo metro airports (Haneda and Narita) is running around $1200

I am doing some preliminary apartment scouting and am hoping not to exceed $800 per month (I will be traveling with suitcases and will need to properly store them). The apartments I am looking at do not require a security deposit or key money, but will probably come with a guarantor fee.

Now because I'm not going over there through one of the more common avenues - through a university or a job - I have to do it myself. Real life has meant that I've had to dig into my bank balance a bit, and after paying for the first six months I'm a little under the 2 million yen (~$14k) threshold that Immigration likes to see for a year's study. I'm lucky enough in that I will at least have a regular source of (unearned) income, as well as a financial sponsor; it's just the bank balance, flight, and accommodation that are hanging me up. Right now I am setting the initial goal at $3000, but I expect to move those goalposts at least once. Any extra will go towards a flight home for the Christmas holidays in December. After that, it'll go towards paying down my credit cards as much as I can prior to leaving the United States.

I can provide my conditional letter of acceptance from ISI, as well as the school invoice and receipt of the bank transfer for the first six months of tuition upon request (identifying information redacted, of course).

Because there's still a couple of months until I'm set to fly out I put together a GoFundMe (now that's a name I haven't used in a while) to idly collect whatever help I can. At the very least I just need this post to circulate enough to eventually cast a wider net outside of Tungle.hell.

GoFundMe

If you can't use GFM, V3nmo and P4ypal are also options:

V3nmo: @/venus3palette

P4ypal: @/fantasytheater

Again: I'm not in that much of a hurry, and the situation isn't dire! Thank you for combing my wall of text!!!!

[graysontheslime]

Safety and Consent in Fandom

I don't really do this stuff, so sorry if I'm wording this all wrong. However, I think this is important enough to make a post about. This is a post about how fandom events aren't doing enough to protect teenagers from making sexual content for adults.

Teenagers cannot be making sexual content for adults for a multitude of reasons, one of them being that they cannot trust adults on the internet. Being asked to create such content for them could lead to them being pressured to create more or being hurt. Not correctly safeguarding this from happening can directly cause this to happen. 

The event that largely inspired this post, and the one I'll be talking about, is MCYT rarepair exchange (@mcyt-rarepair-exchange). It's a great idea for an exchange, and would have really recommended it, however, there's a major problem with how it's being run. Also as the response to said problem when I approached a mod was poorly handled. For the sake of privacy, I won't reveal who the mod is nor who I was assigned to.

When I got my assignment, it had NSFW prompts. This isn't a problem in of itself, however, I did not sign up nor consent to create or receive NSFW. If i was an adult, i likely would have picked the SFW prompt and moved along, but it was already a problem that i was given the option to. Because I am not an adult. I should not have been sent something with NSFW prompts, especially with the fact that I am under 18.

I asked to speak to a mod for an explanation, as this has not happened to me before, and I was confused on why I was given said assignment. This was their response:

This already raised a few flags for me, as the server and the exchange isn't 18+, and yet anyone is getting paired with NSFW content; including people who haven't consented to such. To be more specific, the exchange is 13+, which means, potentially, 13 year olds could be paired with someone asking for NSFW. Along with this, from the ao3 sign up we filled out, it made it seem as though NSFW was something to opt-in to by checking the explicit box. I did not do this, and yet I was given NSFW prompts anyways. Their system was either handled wrong or didnt work.

I figured this event must be new and didn't think this bit through too much, as I myself am running an event and have missed things to add to rules or how things are running, which have led to less than ideal solutions. However, I believe speaking up was necessary as children should not be given the opportunity to create sexual content for adults. At best, they could be creeped out as I was. At worst, it could go downhill very quickly if they decided to go for it and this could have been the start of a connection that puts them in danger.

Their response was dismissive. They didn't address the problem that I brought up, nor tried to take any measures in the future other than “taking it into consideration”. The problem here was not that I was uncomfortable. The problem is that I, someone under 18, who did not consent to being sent NSFW prompts, was sent an adult’s NSFW prompts anyways. It's not that I felt unsafe, it's that the situation was unsafe. It was said  in the event's rules that you must be 18 or older to receive or create NSFW, yet they’ve failed to stop NSFW prompts going to people under 18. 

They do seem to agree that showing 13 year olds/minors sexual content is not right, as in their Tumblr rules it says so! If the mod team describes NSFW as “anything you wouldn't feel comfortable showing to a 13 year old”, why didn't they take measures to stop NSFW prompts to going to 13-17 year olds? It's one thing to make this mistake, but another to ignore it entirely when it's as major as this one.

They, however, did not listen to me. They did not even respond to my concerns until an hour later when a different mod DMed me this, saying my concerns were in bad faith and that I questioned the mod’s competence. I do fail to see where exactly I questioned their competence. If they felt attacked or poorly treated by me voicing my concerns I do feel sorry, but I also feel that's on them to regulate. If you are a mod, you need to be able to handle criticism and handle people coming to you with safety concerns. You need to be able to take it seriously, not take it as an attack. 

I attempted to respond to the new mod, trying to re-explain myself, but  I was quite literally talking to a brick wall, as they have their dms off for people not in servers they’re in, or people who aren’t friends with them. I was also then kicked from the server for raising concern.

-

When you start to run an event, you are creating a community. And by running or modding that event, you are directly responsible for what happens inside of that community. It is irresponsible to send NSFW to minors, whether they consented for it or not. And not only that, but it is also irresponsible to send an adult’s NSFW requests to minors, for the sake of the adult! I highly doubt the adults who requested NSFW  knew they were possibly going to children! 

There was no consent given on my part to be given anything NSFW, and I highly doubt my assignment consented to their NSFW requests to be given to me as a minor. 

MCYT-Rarepair-Exchange has done a horrible job of keeping their community safe. The person running this event and their mod team are handling NSFW requests poorly, and people need to know that it is wrong to handle events like such. I did not presume ignorance on their part, but I will say now, this response to valid concerns is ignorant. 

It is ignorant to send out NSFW to minors from adults, and it is even more ignorant to not see why the hell this is a problem. 

This type of behavior needs to be addressed and changed, but by the way the mod/runner spoke to me, I am highly skeptical of that happening. I am not making this post because I want everyone who sees it to go dog pile and hate on these people, please do not do that. I'm not even making this post to change their minds and make them do something about this. I have little faith that i can with how they have handled my concerns. I'm making this because people could be dangerously taken advantage of or hurt with this. This is about more than just the Rarepair exchange, I'm making this so that people running these kinds of events know that it is not acceptable. So that teenagers who don't want to be sent sexual prompts and adults who don't want their sexual prompts to go to teenagers know that this is a problem they need to watch out for in these events. I love doing exchanges and I love being a part of the MCYT community. But seeing people creating harmful environments for people who are a part of this community, people I know, myself included, is so soul crushing. Fandoms, in large, should be a safe space where you can get away from serious things and create and have fun together. Especially exchanges! If events like this don't keep their space safe, and nobody speaks up when they fail to do so, more events could do just that, and people could get hurt. I do hope that other people running events and other mod teams can learn from this instead of repeating its mistakes.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

OH LAWD I WOULD DIE FOR SHENHE AND SARA

Could you do some headcannons about their S/O being overly sweet towards them? Imagine them getting Shenhe tons of gifts and hugging her like a Koala holding onto a tree. Or Sara’s S/O straight up pulling out their archery skills just to get her attention and try their hardest to break her “professional” behaviour just to see her blush. GAAAA JUST IMAGINING THEM SOUNDS SO CUTE!

(Genshin Impact) Shenhe and Sara's S/O being overly affectionate

THE GAP MOE IS REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

Shenhe had not received any kind of physical affection in a very long time.

It's not as if she did not have anyone caring for her, Cloud Retainer and the Traveler certainly did.

But the love S/O gave to her could not be compared to anything in her life.

At first, S/O wanted to gift her many things, but since she didn't really have a house, she had to decline many of their bigger gifts.

Instead, she kept smaller items like a necklace adorned with a beautiful light blue gem in the middle, resembling her vision.

And her body did not budge whenever S/O hugged her with full force, though that was due to her being extremely strong.

(Shenhe) "I wish to return your affection wholeheartedly, S/O, but I cannot."

S/O looked at Shenhe curiously, their smile still wide.

(S/O) "Why?"

(Shenhe) "I don't think your body could withstand it."

(S/O) "Oh come on, we can try!"

Shenhe then complied.

S/O was out of breath for nearly half an hour.

Regardless, it was something they did not regret.

Whether it was hugging, kissing, giving gifts, S/O loved to figuratively (And sometimes literally) smother her in any type of love.

Shenhe's face mostly remained unchanged, but her heart seemed to race everytime she felt them in her arms.

There were many times when they shared a bed, S/O would just hold onto her, arms and legs trapping her in place.

It felt strange, but Shenhe did not mind.

If S/O was safe and happy, then she was as well.

===

S/O and Shenhe had gotten a fair distance away from Liyue Harbor. Not too far in case if trouble followed them and civilization was too far, but they could be left alone in the confines of nature comfortably.

Something Shenhe appreciated. She could simply enjoy S/O all to herself. They were planning to camp out together, if only just for a little bit.

She felt their hands wrap around hers, eagerly standing closer as they moved closer to put their head on her chest.

Shenhe made no sound, but S/O could tell that she was at ease. The way her shoulders slumped, eyebrows raised, and the faintest dusting of pink rose to her cheeks.

(S/O) "I'm really happy I get to spend the next few days with you, Shenhe!"

(Shenhe) "I am as well. But-"

Shenhe slowly stepped back, making sure her hands were still holding S/O. She tilted her head and asked S/O with her tone of voice lightly hinted with concern.

S/O took a moment to think about their answer while Shenhe continued.

(Shenhe) "The mountains can get quite cold at night as well."

(S/O) "That's what you're here for!"

S/O lovingly stood closer, and nuzzled their head onto her shoulders.

(S/O) "I'll be fine to sleep anywhere as long as you're with me, Shenhe. Besides, I packed a tent and everything we need!...Well, that I need."

Shenhe nodded and sat down, her hand still tightly gripping S/O as they sat with her on the grass. S/O began cuddling onto her, both of them silently watching the clouds above slowly drift away.

Her heart throbbed when she felt their hand wrap around her waist, though it was not out of pain as she quickly learned in the beginning of their relationship.

In truth, Sara is quite easy to fluster, whether it be from teasing or affection.

Unfortunately for her, S/O provided much of both.

Sara did prefer to keep their relationship private for both the sake of her pride and for their personal safety, which S/O thankfully mostly complied with.

But whenever it was just the two of them, S/O would hold nothing back.

(S/O) "Sara!"

S/O almost tackled her in a hug, if she weren't prepared then they would have both fallen over.

But, it was something Sara secretly found endearing. S/O would not get to hear that however, lest they somehow get even more lovey-dovey.

(Sara) "It's nice to see you too, S/O."

She gave them a firm hug back before gently pushing them back.

(S/O) "I can make you some Onigiri, go ahead and sit down!"

Never once in her life did Sara think she would walk into such a loving home after days of work.

But Sara was happy to have S/O provide her the love she never knew she wanted.

===

Sara sighed as S/O happily held her hand to a nearby food stand.

The vendor in question seemed shocked at S/O holding the hands of the General of the Tenryou Commission so casually, while Sara had to avert meeting their gaze. of confusion.

(S/O) "One stick of dango, please!"

As the vendor nodded, the memories of how this even happened came rushing back to her head.

...

(S/O) "Sara, if I can hit this bullseye, you have to go on a date with me in the city!" Sara raised her eyebrow at S/O's sudden challenge. They had a bow and a single arrow in their hands, pointing a crudely made training dummy with layers of circles on its chest. (Sara) "Where is this coming from, S/O?" (S/O) "Kind of a mix of things, honestly. One: I just want to impress you. And two: I want to treat you to something nice, but you won't let me!" Sara chuckled, rather too confidently if S/O were to add. (Sara) "While I do appreciate the thought, you have no need to do so-." (S/O) "I have every need to do so if I get to see you blush and have that cute frown!" Well, they were already doing that. Rather effectively too. (Sara) "Alright, I accept your challenge." Sara crossed her arms as she stood behind S/O. Their arms were wobbling at the strength, but she could tell they were trying to mimic the way she drew her bow. (Sara) "Hm, I doubt they're going to-" Before she could even finish, S/O let the arrow go and she watched, much to her horror, the arrow pierce the center circle. (S/O) "HAHA! I DID IT!" They turned towards her, a star gleaming in their eye. (S/O) "Let's get some dango together!" (Sara) "I-In the city?" (S/O) "Where else, silly?" Sara opened her mouth to protest, but she did make a promise after all. That was on her for underestimating the lengths S/O would go to spoil her. And there was also that smile of theirs that made her mind haze...

...

Sara sighed as she walked away from the vendor, noting that people were beginning to stare.

Before moving to walk away from the open sight of the streets, she turned to S/O, scratching the side of her head in a nervous tick.

(S/O) "I know I am!"

S/O punctuated with a big grin, before thankfully, leading Sara away from prying eyes.

[sparrowrye]

The Archivist's Oath || Alastor x Reader, Chapter 5: unwilling savior

Synopsis: Alastor returns

Master List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, I ditched the radio.

I listened to his broadcasts every night for weeks that followed his abrupt leave, anxiously waiting for him to mention me or my archive...but he never did. He continued his tyrants without a syllable about me. It stung as much as it was a relief. So, satisfied that he wasn't outing me to the rest of the world, I dropped the radio in one of the floor cabinets.

I didn't need a reminder of him.

I grabbed the Old World textbook, and a lantern, and made my way into my archive. A small ladder was hidden directly underneath one of the floor cabinets and I had to use my teeth to hold onto the lantern as I climbed down the ladder. The archive itself was one big winding staircase. The shelves were indented into the walls, their labels long lost to time, as were the books gradually becoming.

The archive used to run on electricity but that obviously went out well before my grandmother's time. Since there was no electricity to keep the books safe from dust, temperature changes, and bugs, it was even more crucial for an Archivist to translate the books onto fresher pages. It was a practice every Archivist was doing since the very beginning.

"That's right. I know what you are. You're an Archivist. A prideful legacy of manipulative hoarders who think they're above everyone else. All in the name of some ancient, outdated oath."

Al's—I mean Alastor's—words had poisoned my mind. I couldn't believe the man I had come to care for would say something like that. Though, I had known from the start that we didn't know everything about each other. It shouldn't surprise me, but it did anyways.

It hurt above anything else.

"That outdated oath is what's keeping the last shred of Humanity safe from conquerers like you. You want to manipulate, you want to control, you want to use everything in that archive for your own gain. Not for the safety of Humanity but to secure your power above them. And I won't let that happen. I won't let you twist the past to fit your twisted future!"

I was proud of my own words, even if the truth still stung. He was Alastor, the Radio Demon. He wanted to use my archive for evil. He had made me believe, just like all his other listeners, in a brighter future, then took it all away in a matter of seconds.

I shook my head and shelved the old textbook, and its translation, into a slot. I scanned the surrounding books, mentally translating their titles in my head as I did, until I found one about medicine. I wasn't very fond of or skilled at translating science and medicine books, but I thought, perhaps, it would distract me from my sad reality. The growing weight on my chest was becoming too much.

Pinching the lantern between my teeth, I climbed back up. I put the cabinet back in place then settled at the coffee table. I took the new pristine sheets of paper and dipped my pen in the ink jar. I would need to buy more ink the next time I went to the community, and would need to bring something of equal value for trade.

I sat cross legged as I worked, but my eyes continuously glanced up at the couch, as if expecting Al to be lounging there, his legs stretching too far over the armrest and his smug smile watching me as I worked. I could still picture his bright red hair against the dull, earthy colors of the bunker.

"Enough of this. I don't need your permission. I'll do what needs to be done for Humanity's sake."

How was it possible to fight for the same thing but in two vastly different ways? Guilt started to gnaw at me. Would things have been different if we had just talked? Could things have been fixed if we had just had a civil conversation? Instead, we threw insults at each other as if that would convince the other to heed our perspective.

I dropped my head against the book. I wanted to apologize to him. I wanted to apologize, make up, and actually hug him. How come we never did that? We could kiss but never once hugged? Pathetic.

"I should've just slept with him," I muttered. A moment later, I snapped my head up and tried to squish my head between my hands. "No! Have the Radio Demon father an Archivist child?" I yelled at myself. "That's the stupidest thing you've come up with yet."

I attempted another page before completely giving up. The words weren't making any sense. I slammed the book shut (as much as I could without damaging it) and slid it under the chair. I took a fly out to my usual spot to look for an airship in the distance.

I saw none.

{|}

The sound of my bunker door opening was the stuff of nightmares.

I snatched my knife from under my pillow and jumped to the doorway of the bedroom. I peered around the corner as a bright flashlight searched the entire bunker. I pulled back just as it came near. It briefly lit up my entire room. My heart pounded in my ears, yet I could still make out the sound of multiple sets of footsteps walking around my home.

I raised my hand with the knife and waited, muscles coiled and ready to spring into action as soon as someone stepped close enough. Footsteps neared, as did the flashlight, and my room was lit up as if the sun itself were shining through. I bristled as the shuffling came closer and closer, finally revealing a set of cat ears.

I swung.

My knife hit a shoulder and the creature stumbled back with a cry. The lantern fell from his grasp and shattered on the ground. All lights snapped to me, temporarily blinding me, then scrambled closer. I yanked my knife from the cat and swung at the nearest figure. I swung and swung until I was able to run behind the counter.

Hands grabbed my hair but I blindly thrusted the knife over my shoulder. Their grip instantly disappeared and I dove between two shadows. I sprouted my wings in an instant, jamming them into the figures and sending them flying sideways. They crashed into shelves and shattered glass and wood.

An arm wrapped around my neck and their hand stopped my blade from reaching their face. I furiously flapped my wings in hopes of slamming their back into a wall but they dropped their weight on me entirely, slamming my chest into the floor and pinning me to the ground. They grabbed my hand and banged my knuckles against the metal ground until my fingers dropped the knife.

I threw my head up but there was no nose or mouth to hit. Pain stabbed my wings as something hooked onto them and dragged them backwards. A moment later, a rope squeezed my wings together. More hands grabbed at my hands and legs, trying to tie those together, too, but I wouldn't let them. I caught skin between my teeth and connected my foot with a face with a satisfying crack.

The same arm hooked my neck and squeezed too tight. It cut off my airflow and my vision darkened at a terrifying speed. I reached for their eyes but they pulled their head away, arm still clamped around my windpipe and bending my spine in the wrong direction. I dug my claws into their skin and pushed against the floor but it did nothing.

I was out.

A moment later, I came to, face down on the ground with my hands, feet, and wings bound tightly and uncomfortably behind my back. The room was as bright as day and the people in dark clothing tore apart my home. They weren't breaking anything on purpose—to my surprise—but they were aggressively searching for something.

Alastor.

These were his people. He was back. This had to be his doing.

I shifted but a hand shoved my head down, cutting my cheek into the metal. A dark, unfamiliar voice breathed in my ear, "Where is the library?"

"What library?" I asked, knowing full well what he was asking.

"Your archive."

"I don't know what you're talk—" The man fisted my hair and slammed my face into the floor again.

"Listen Archivist," he hissed, "I ain't playin' no games. Where is your library?"

Tears fell down my face. "I won't tell you."

The voice came closer. "I don't think you want things to get ugly. We still gotta make things even between us after you hit my shoulder." He was the cat. No wander his fingers stung my scalp like they were claws.

The familiar words my grandmother had spoken—words she said over and over again—came to mind and I voiced them, "I'd rather die an Archivist than live as a traitor."

"We'll see about tha—"

"Found something," one of them called. They shoved the shelf aside to reveal a hidden door. The man abandoned his grip on my hair and walked over, white paws tapping on the floor. His red tipped tail swayed behind him as he hooked his claws on the indented handle.

I shuffled and brought my legs around to sit up, wings pulling uncomfortably in their restraints. I looked around for a knife or something sharp to cut the ropes but nothing presented itself. One of the figures stepped beside me and gave a nasty, warning glare.

This is really happening. I'm going to die today. I found it was a strange mix of anticipation and dread.

The hidden door opened to a forgotten bathroom, once able to run on electricity. They had found the decoy. And they weren't happy about it.

I was aggressively shoved back on the metal ground and whimpered as claws drew blood from grabbing my hair. They began pulling handfuls of feathers from my wings and I screamed. Their demands to reveal my archive fell on deaf ears.

They were a few handfuls in when someone called, "Husker?"

The blurry, white paws in my view shifted as the people behind me stopped their plucking. Everyone went quiet as the leader padded over to his teammate and looked over the lackey's shoulder. A moment later, I heard metal rattling from one of the floor cabinets and the pain from my wings instantly flew out of mind.

No.

I thrashed. Bit. Screamed. Kicked. I did anything and everything, not caring for the pain it caused me. So many of them grabbed at my limbs and put all their weight onto my back, pushing me further and further into the ground. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Tears streamed down my face, making it twice as hard to breath.

A moment later, my nose and mouth were covered with a painfully strong scent. I tried not to breathe any of it in but it was too late. My muscles were giving up on me, my vision too. The last thing I could remember was the men getting off me as I watched them remove the cabinet from the floor and descend the ladder to my archive.

{|}

The dull hum of large engines filled the room, vibrating the thin walls. My head pounded as I groggily rolled over, peeling my eyes open and trying to blink through the haziness of sleep. The sheets were unfamiliar and my stomach churned with every slight tilt of the airship.

Airship.

Realization hit me like an axe. I bolted upright and immediately regretting it as the room swam and my headache turned into a splitting migraine. My hands gripped the cold railing of the narrow bed I was on, my legs as heavy as lead when I attempted to swing them over the bed's edge. I couldn't tell if the ship was tilting or if it was my muddled perspective.

My knuckles turned white the harder I gripped the railing. My eyes searched the small room I was currently occupying: a simple wooden desk at the foot of the bed, a small stool tucked safely behind a metal bar underneath, a narrow closed-door closet beside it, and drawers built into the wooden base of the bed. There were no windows. A single door stood adjacent to the head of the bed.

My feet finally woke and I pushed myself to shaky legs. One hand stayed on the railing while the other touched the opposing wall as I stumbled towards the door. I sprouted my wings to help keep my balance in the small room but they didn't come out! Dread creeped in my chest as my head cleared, finally able to process my terrifying, cold reality.

Footsteps preceded the jiggle of the handle. I tripped over my feet and jammed my back into the wooden desk as the door creeped open, and Alastor stepped into the room.

He wore a deep red coat that reached his knees, white embroidery and stripes at his chest lapels and the cuffs of his sleeves. He wore a very dark gray button up vest underneath the jacket, and his jet black pants had the same red stripe at the hem as the pants he had first met me in. His red tipped fingers clung to his cane, now perfect, smooth, sharp, and emanating a static of electricity.

His hair was a much brighter red and in pristine condition; not a single hair out of place and sharply cut. A red monocle sat on his right cheek and his antlers had grown several sizes bigger than last time. They stretched as wide and as tall as his ears. He looked every bit the Radio Demon.

His smile...it wasn't friendly.

"Bastard," I hissed, pushing myself off the desk and using the wall to keep me upright. I had yet to feel steady and the pounding in my head wasn't helping.

His red eyes, which had once regarded me with a softness, now looked me up and down with scrutiny. "I see you've woken up in a delightful mood," he said. He stepped further in the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click. "I was hoping we could speak like two civilized adults."

"The hell did you do to my wings?" I demanded, not bothering to hide the animosity in my tone.

"Ah, you needn't worry." He placed his cane in front and rested both hands on top of it. "I've temporarily...concealed them."

"You what?"

"I assure you it's only temporary. I had to ensure you wouldn't act rash and attempt to fly off the airship without your precious archive."

I took a step forward. "Where is it? Where is my archive?"

"Safe," he answered. "You have quite the collection so some are on this ship and some on another."

"You had no right!" I pressed a hand to my head when my yelling amplified my migraine. I widened my stance and leaned all my weight into the wall, tears threatening to close my throat.

He lowered his tone and said more evenly, "I did this to protect you as much as Humanity. If you can stop behaving like a feral cat for five seconds, I can explain it to you."

I glared up at him through my fingers. "Don't condescend me."

He blinked at me, but made no comment on it and carried on to explain, "You are vital to what comes next. Your archive—your knowledge—could reshape humanity and save Pentagram City. Together, we can build something new and better than the chaos it's currently drowning in. We could build something extraordinary."

I let out a short, abrupt laugh. "You think I care about your city? The city that you steal people away to against their wills? The city that's just one big collection of unwilling communities that are scared into submission by the Radio Demon?" I shook my head softly, wincing at the pain it caused. "No. You took me from my home, you stole my archive, you....you...you made me trust you just to serve your sick vision. You violated me, Alastor." His name was a bad taste in my mouth.

He leaned his cane against the wall then took two steps closer. The smell of smoke and cinnamon reached my nose and I took a step back to lean against the desk. He followed, invading my personal space to breathe in my face. "And I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you if I must. But you must understand, my dear, you are too important. Too important to be left in that bunker wasting away."

He reached up to gently brush his thumb across my cheek where I had a cut from the scuffle. I watched him closely, my whole body tense but I didn't pull away. Softly, I said, "So I'm just a tool to you. Another piece in your puzzle."

His smile wavered slightly. "In some way, we all are. But to me, you are far more than just a piece. You just don't see it yet." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and his eyes softened, as did his smile. I saw Al staring back at me, but then I caught my reflection in the red glass of his monocle.

"Let me go home."

His smile turned sad and he finally stepped away, taking his warmth and smell of cinnamon with him. "I can't do that. But in time, you'll understand. I'll make this work. For both of us."

"You're delusional if you think I'm going to help you." I straightened up. My hand gripped the edge of the desk as I gave him a leveled glare. "Even if it wasn't in my oath, I would never help the man who betrayed me the way you did, let alone the man who the world fears."

He swung his cane behind his back and the Radio Demon sneered back at me. "You may not forgive me, but someday you'll thank me when the world sees you for what you truly are." He opened the door but, before leaving, he said over his shoulder, "I'll send someone down to help you dress appropriately." Then he closed the door behind him with a loud clunk of a lock.

I stared at the door for several heartbeats, unable to move as a swirl of emotions filled me. Eventually I fell to my knees and curled up in a tight ball, hot tears soaking my clothes and making my head hurt worse. It felt as if my entire lineage of ancestors were standing in the room, staring down at me with disapproving stares.

No. I glared up at the empty space. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. I was an Archivist. Alastor thought this was going to be easy because of our shared time in my bunker but he was wrong—so very wrong. If he made me regret ever saving his life, I was going to make him regret it too.

{|}

I spent three more days trapped in that tiny room on the airship. A woman had come in to help me dress in plain, simple clothes. They were finely stitched and softer than anything I'd ever owned. The top was a cream long sleeve and had small, red stitching on the high collar. It fit snuggly but not too tight. It was topped with a wide, tan belt across my hips. The black pants were nearly the same as Alastor's but, fortunately, lacked the red stripe at the bottom.

Every day he made an appearance in an attempt to meet me on middle ground. And every day I snapped at him and demanded he take me home. Neither one of us got what we wanted.

I sat on the edge of the desk drawing on a small slip of paper I had found in the desk. I made simple circles and sketches to fill the entire page. I had already gone through another page the day before since I had nothing to do. Perhaps it was Alastor's thinking of punishment—since he had made it apparent how much he hated being bored—but unfortunately for him, I was accustomed to boredom.

A knock came at the door and, though I didn't answer, opened to reveal the Radio Demon once again. His staff glinted faintly over his shoulder, his pristine red coat hugging his figure perfectly. His sharp eyes and even sharper smile found me. "Come with me, I have something to show you."

My first instinct was to tell him to shove his command up his ass. However, my curiosity tugged too firmly on the back of my mind, reigning in my sharp tongue before I made a response. Instead, I pushed off the desk and followed him into the hallway.

The hum of the engines were much louder here and the vibrations shot directly through my paws. They were the only sign of my griffon appearance—feet covered in short, thin fur and long talons scratching the floor lazily as I followed Alastor. I glared holes into his back.

The airship's main deck was cold and the wind whipped my hair around viciously. It was tied back with the ribbon the woman had given me on the first day, but even so, the wind still whipped flyaways in my eyes. I held them back with both hands as I looked around the airship.

It was just as I had heard in my community. The wooden base was tied to a massive white balloon, ropes and nets held taught and being climbed by the sailors. They moved with hurried precision, avoiding each other by an inch and even moving around Alastor and I as we walked across the deck.

I followed him to the front edge of the ship where he came to a stop and glanced over the railing. He looked to me then gestured with his hand to look over. I hesitantly stepped up beside him, making sure to leave a decent amount of space between us. My mouth hung open upon the sight miles below us.

"We are about to dock in Pentagram City," Alastor explained over the sound of the furious wind, "I thought you might like to see it from the deck."

I didn't answer and reigned in my facial expressions. The city was nestled in a large, expansive ravine that stretched across the land like veins in a hand. There were islands in the large open spaces, some from actual stone and others man-made. Behind this massive city was a white-topped mountain that poked through the clouds, seemingly miles away but yet filled my entire vision.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Alastor prompted, tone softer than expected. He stepped near and rested a hand on the railing uncomfortably close to mine.

Again, I didn't answer. The city grew bigger the closer we descended. I could see the movements of the inhabitants moving along the streets—no, they were bridges. There were bridges all over and pulley systems to transport both people and resources. The people wore all kinds of exotic colors and my eyes jumped from one color to the other. I couldn't figure out where to look—there was something new and exciting everywhere I looked.

I heard Alastor chuckle as he rested his arms on the railing beside me, our shoulders almost brushing. The wind wasn't as strong anymore and he could speak normally. "Pentagram City is not without its flaws," he admitted, "but it's full of potential. Minds from all over the land are brought together for a common cause: survival. There's chaos, but there's also order." He turned to look at me, crimson eyes holding mine steady. "It's a place you could thrive in."

My eyes narrowed before turning back to the scene before me. "A place your tool can do the most damage," I muttered.

He let out a sigh and straightened up, hand gripping his cane from where he'd propped it against the railing. "I didn't bring you here to imprison you, my dear." His tone was gentle but with a certain kind of firmness to it. "I brought you here to give you a chance. To let you continue your life's goal as an Archivist."

I shook my head, eyes lowering as much as my spirits. "No, Alastor, you want me to continue in the way you see fit." I turned to face him fully and straightened my back, hand gripping the railing to keep my balance. My tone was flat and without the usual bite as I said, "Don't dress it up as something noble. You didn't give me a choice."

His jaw tightened, as did the grip on his staff. "I admit, I took certain...liberties," he said carefully, "But it is because I see something in you that I don't often see in others, let alone an Archivist of all people. Something that could save this city and put Humanity back on its path to redemption. And I'm not the only one."

I glanced down at the city that was much closer now. I had never seen a city before and certainly never seen as many people in one place. I looked back at Alastor in all his dark red and imposing stance. "I don't care what you see in me. You lied to me. You betrayed me. You kidnapped me from the only place I've ever known. And you stole my archive. Why should I want to help your city?"

He tilted his head slightly as he surveyed my oddly calm and unemotional manner. "Because deep down, you care. You care about people and Humanity as a whole. You want to create something better. And that," he pointed a claw at me, "is the entire reason why Archivists even exist. You can hate me all you want but you can't deny the nature of your being: to rebuild Humanity better than before. And you and I will accomplish exactly that."

I opened my mouth to retort but the words got stuck in my throat. I couldn't deny that he was right, but that didn't mean I was happy about my predicament. He was twisting my oath around to serve his 'greater purpose'.

And yet, as my eyes drifted back to the city and the docking on the edge of the ravine, the weight of his words touched more than my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the warm feeling sprouting in my chest.

I muttered a curse under my breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

I quite liked writing this one. Next chapter on Wednesday 9:00am EST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette