#but i wanted to clear abyss so i was like let me Try some other options

[irminsuls]

in honour of my beloved albedo's birthday im showcasing my personal favourite team of his which is double geo spread (i swear it works its fun pls try)

[fishnapple]

How will they protect the relationship

(lover/partner/future spouse) - Channelled message

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

Sometimes, I fear that you will get used to our relationship to the point of boredom, that our relationship will become just a habit, a routine that you do everyday, mechanically, without enthusiasm or passion. That fear crept in my mind, taking roots, and there will be moments when I let it grow and poke its branches out. Imaginary scenarios swirl in my mind, threatening to spiral out of control.

But I will snap out of it in no time. I'm a master at bringing myself out of the dark, I'm a good runner, running in the night long enough, and you're bound to see the sun rise again. I will try to look at myself first, from an objective lens, to find where I can change, what baggage I need to get rid of. Then I will look at our relationship, I will find a way to lift it up, make it exciting again. Do you like puzzles? Do you like sculpting? Would you like to try a new recipe? Let's forget for a moment all our adult responsibilities and be free. To be excited teenagers again, falling in love for the first time again. I will write you love letters full of typos, sending you half-baked cakes and cringy T-shirts, you will laugh and you will join me.

I do notice that there are some people around us, people who shouldn't come that close, who shouldn't be there at all. They don't understand the concept of respecting other people's boundaries. They will try to turn a blind eye to our commitment, pretend that it doesn't exist. Blatantly coming in without knocking, thinking that they can just take you away from me and me from you. They think that their tactics are subtle enough, that in time, they can corrode our bond. Little touches here and there, the gaze, the "innocent" banters. I can see them all, I will try to put a distance between me and them, so I hope you will do that too, I also hope that you will patiently listen to me when I warn you of those people. Yes, sometimes you will have to call me a possessive person. I just want to shut out everyone dare to threaten us, to find a place where only us exist. But that's impossible, I know, so the best I can do is tell them off as clear as possible, trying to show that we're together, there's no space between us. Let them be jealous, we just need to focus on us and walk away, hand in hand.

GROUP 2

I know we have a lot of unspoken words stuck inside. The silence between can sometimes grow to such a suffocating weight, pushing us down, deeper and deeper into our own abyss.

We both will be so uncertain of our future together, where will we go, is there a place strong enough to shelter us, are we strong enough? We hope for the same things, we are so alike, even our fears are alike, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this.

Our bond will be tested numerous times. There will be a time when we've almost given up, but fate or whatever higher powers are at play here, will bring us back together, anew and ready to try again. I wasn't a spiritual person, but by being with you, being in this relationship, I began to believe in something intangible, in the unknown, it scared me, but all I can do is to move forward, with you, and that's where our fears begin. We move forward together, into the unknown future that holds no concrete promise.

Then I realised we've forgotten to remember where we've put our wishes in, what we've wished for. If we can just remember, then there's no point in worrying. I will give you a hint: it's a wish that spans from the past to the future. We felt like we've known each other for a long time when we first met, and I believe we will be in each other's lives for the far future to see. That belief alone is enough for me to feel brave. And I will sit down, take out my pens and notebook, and begin to scribble down the plan, the path for us, give voice to the stuck words inside, air them out. I will show you that plan and tell you to not worry about the future, instead just focus on this current life in front of us, we got this, believe in us.

GROUP 3

Sometimes, I think that we are two pieces of puzzles fit perfectly together. If not, then there's no way to explain how you have everything I lack, and I, in turn, have an abundance of things that you don't. We have our fair share of issues that alone, we seem to lack the strength to tackle them, but together, they seem so silly and easy. You can be the wind and I will be the pipes, you can be the water and I will be the pump. Now that sounds silly, but you get my gist. There will be times when you cry, I will be there, holding you close and being the cool headed one to make logical decisions. There will be times when I'm so down, you will be there, holding me close and being the soft pillow that raises my head up.

There will be problems, from inside and outside, but I believe we can weather them all. The problems will mainly come from the place of insecurities and misunderstanding. People's words can be cutting and unintentionally hurtful, sometimes intentionally. They sow the seeds of doubts inside our minds. But let's believe in the visions of ourselves and of each other. We see ourselves best. We will sit down, talk it all out, there's no barrier between us. I'm proud of our direct and open way of communicating. I can always count on us to be rational and discuss things until we can reach a solution. Yes, there might be tears and angry voices here and there, but they are the minority and will go away quickly. We're too sure of our commitment and ourselves to let those bother us for too long.

Whatever action needed to be taken, it would be taken swiftly. If it's required of me to be cutting something, somebody out of our life, I will do it, no hesitation. Because I trust in our judgement. And if it's required to move, I will move. I'm afraid distance will be our biggest hurdle. But we will find a way to be closer. Many things will need to be changed, our jobs, our homes. But we won't fear changes. Because changes will bring us to a better future.

GROUP 4

I want to prepare you beforehand, our relationship will be scrutinised by a lot of people. It's not like we are celebrities or anything. Why do they have to care so much? I honestly don't know and don't care either. Our bond just attracts a lot of jealousy and objections. The idea of us together will piss people off. They want something, a fixed future for us, they expect it, but then they have to watch a totally different outcome, surprises, surprises.

Particularly those who have authority over us, they're supposed to be the wise guidance, the benevolent power that can protect us, but they will turn their backs on us, worse, they will turn their sneering gaze and contemptuous words on us. That can't be helped, I guess, we're the rebels, we go against their rules and expectations. I know you will want our bond to be blessed by those around us, I want it too, but reality is something we will have to face. At first, we may even have to hide our love, it's frustrating.

Don't worry, I will be strong for us, you won't even have to fight anything, just let me take care of it. I have enough strength to do that. Don't picture the image of me making a foray against them like a bull thrusting its horn angrily. I have enough wit not to do that, just like how I've charmed you with my words, I can do it too, to other people, the people who are against us. If it doesn't work, then I will just be my best, showing them how much of a good life I'm having with you. In the end, I just don't really care. We have our love and that's enough. We can always move away, to a better place. You will be surprised just how much freedom we do have.

[limerlove]

ray, your writing is so amazing 🤍

lowkey, i need a “i love you x i loved you” angst with abby and reader ‼️😔👀

❝ BET YOU WANNA LOVE ME NOW ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

tags: eighteen+,wc 2k, heavy angst, tw panic attack.

a/n: more than happy to fulfill this request for you, em. thank you for helping me even further bringing it to life. i love when our brains mesh. it's a beautiful and lovely thing. ily, mwah mwah ♡

daily click | palestine masterpost

Three months, shot after shot, week after week, you call. The dial tone you’re met with again. The hint is there for you to take but you steer clear from it, hoping to wipe out instead. She never blocks you, a glimmer of hope you call it. It’s the only sliver of silver lining you hold onto. Your friends take away your phone after the fourth call, trying to protect you from the inevitable hurt. 

You’ve hit rock bottom, the tequila burning through the remnants left of your senses. Stumbling in your boots before you find an edge of a curb to nestle on, the now empty body of the tequila bottle you’d emptied kisses the concrete. 

Everything reminds you of her. The soft laugh she would sing after a silly joke, the way she would hold you at night when you cried, singing her favorite song of the week when the two of you would get ready in the morning together. Just like tonight, Abby would be the one to hold you, dance with you, twirl you around the dance floor and now some other girl tries and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

It’s a traitorous reminder someone else can and maybe, tragically, there’s another already filling your shoes with her. It’s the rude awakening you were in for, but you need it. You stop calling. Woefully, you let Dina and Ellie take you home, making sure you shower, hydrate, and slip into some clean clothes until sleep overtakes you. 

You throw yourself into work, it makes things easier. The only time you think of her is at night. When you’re entirely too lonely, somber floods your soul with the emptiness of your home. The absence of her presence rips you to pieces but it’s better than drunk dialing her into an abyss. 

Though she’s never said anything since, she’s probably glad you’ve stopped calling, the sobbing voicemails with soft cries of her name — would be too much for anyone to stomach yet you’ve subjected her to it. 

Cruelty. What you know best, right? 

You try not to think of it, leave it behind. Out of sight out of mind or something like that? Three more months go by and you’re on your first date. It’s going well enough, the conversation is good. She’s beautiful. Her brown eyes remind you of the honey you drip into your tea, soft caramel skin, the freckles dotting her face, and her smile? It grabs a hold of you. 

Maybe this could be good. This could be something. 

The way she tosses her hair, offers you to try a bite of her omelet, she asks questions about yourself and appears like she wants to know you. You’re enjoying yourself for the first time. The promise of your aching heart healing and the hope of something new makes you elated. Starting to believe it for just a moment, but then it comes crashing down on you like a tsunami wave. 

It’s far from town, tucked in the outskirts of town, you’d suspected to not see anyone here but you see her. She’s sitting outside on the patio, just like you, she’s working. The laptop in front of Abby has her full attention. Her veiny hands run through her golden hair for a moment before she’s taking a sip of her coffee, you presume it to be black. No sugar or cream, the one she normally takes the steamy beverage. As if she knows you’re watching, she slips the suit jacket off, left with only a white button up paired with a gray vest to match her slacks. She pushes her glass up as it glides over the bump in her nose. 

Abby looks like she gets a full night of rest at night. No dark circles are to be found as she’s put together like always. You try to focus on your date. Replies fall from your lips when necessary, you engage, compliment, smile insincerely, but more than anything you feel the bile swarming up your throat. It leaves with no other option than to choke. 

Baby blues shine at the waitress as she comes to check up on her — her smile gleaming with joy, the final knife to your throat reels you into turmoil. It slices you open in the middle of night, now you feel the trickles of blood leaking out from your heart. The wound is out of reach and only one healer can be found. How pitiful the one who can save you would rather never touch you again? 

Painfully, it’s almost as if she feels your distress. She finds you staring, jaw clenched as you look past the woman seated in front of you. An aching chest burns for her, the perplexed quirk of eyebrows and the slight tilt of her head tells you she’s just now seeing you. Meanwhile, for the past hour you’d been practically sweating. Not that the beam of sun left you much of an option. 

“Are you alright, love?” Her accent cuts through like knives, it feels loud. Too much? Too little? You’re not sure what but it’s simply not her. 

“M’good, promise. Let me just freshen up, yeah?” You need to breathe because it feels like you can’t. The weight on your chest feels unbearable as you attempt to catch your breath. Practically making a dash for the bathroom. 

You’re thankful for the singular bathroom as you lay against the cool, tiled wall. Your fingertips reach for the groves, in an attempt to calm yourself before a full meltdown overtakes. Just a flash of her blues sends you into your own, your mind latching onto every kiss, every moment of comfort, the hours you spent buried between her thighs. 

It reminds you of the feeling you’ll never find again. They’ll never be anyone like her again and it all was fucked up to the heavens to reap on, because you couldn’t have a little bit of faith. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, it leaves you reckless. It can’t be her? 

“I-, uh, occupied?” You muster, as you clutch onto the chain resting on your collarbones. “Hey, it’s me.” 

Your heart falls into your stomach, beat erratic at her voice. She’s speaking to you, just you. The familiarity of her soothes you more than expected. “Are you alright? You just ran off, and I just, I know how you get.” 

But you’re quiet, silent tears fall down the apple of your cheeks cascading further as they slip off your jaw. The blossoming feeling of her floods through like a never ending crashing wave. You’ve tried so hard not to venture into it, but she’s here. All it takes is one look in your eyes, she knows something is wrong. How do you move on from that? How can anyone? 

It’s a question you ask yourself, daily, but having it right in front of you is more unimaginably difficult to face. 

“Can I come in?” Abby asks and you let out a gentle okay. 

She’s here, in all her six foot glory, but the look in her eyes tells a different story. Distant, walled — just like when you had met her. Old habits die hard and all the two of you did was revert. She slowly walks towards you, until she’s in front of you, holding her arms behind her back. 

“How bad is it?” Abby inquires. 

“S-seven.” 

“Sit down, alright?” Gently, she offers her hand making you sit as you hiccup, your hyperventilating. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she runs it under cool water before placing it against your neck, and then gently on your forehead. 

Abby wipes away your tears, whispering sweet words to comfort you. It’s been her specialty. No one could calm you down like her. There’s a center to her, pulling your wreckage into her tranquil sense of being. You wonder how long it took for her to have it again, she broke for you when you couldn’t even bend. 

She gave you everything yet you couldn’t give her an ounce of what she wanted. Yet, her innocent hands clean off your hands, as if it isn’t her own blood she’s ridding you of. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m fine.” 

“I know. I certainly don’t have to anymore. Do I? You’ve made that clear.” There’s a bite to her tone, but she still helps you. “Stop complaining and grip onto my hand.” 

You pause before obeying her command. Making sure not to intertwine, only holding and she applies tight pressure with the contact. 

“You’re clearly not fine.” Abby bitterly laughs. “I see nothing has changed.” She whispers so quietly to herself you almost don’t catch it. 

Her eyes catch your own and it feels the same as it did before. The words you could never tell her, the reason she left — they crave to come tumbling out. You focus on her strong hands, the veins popping out, how well fitted the vest is on her chest. She’s holding off on full compression, only if you need it. 

“What?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t, not when you’re like this.” 

“Just say it.” You spat. 

“You’re still afraid of me, of us, not that there is much left to be afraid of.” Abby sighs, biting her lip. Cursing at the gods above for making her fall for someone like you. You couldn’t give her what she needed and she moved on. 

They couldn’t even try for you, Abby reminds herself. 

“It’s okay. I just expected more from you when I shouldn’t have.” There’s no malice when she speaks, only laced with regret. Abby’s words wake turmoil within your heart, pulling at a thread until you’ve come undone. Then there’s her touch, the compression in your hand, the coolness of the handkerchief, it centers you. It’s chaotic, reckless and everything in between. 

It’s always been you. Not centered enough to hold her down or yourself, to anything. 

“I-I wanted to give more I just—” You try to explain, but they die. Just as they always have. 

“You can’t.” The minutes spent in silence the two of you looking in each other’s eyes as Abby allows herself to cling onto you. For just a moment, in the women’s singular bathroom, she allows herself to get some type of remembrance. 

She’s calm as she wipes away your tears, your breathing evening out, the grip on her hands loosens. The two of you lost in a moment, unresolved feelings come up bubbling. Abby lets you cradle her face in your pressing grip, it feels like acid on her skin but a familiar warmth floods in her heart. 

Unexpectedly, you’re leaning into her in the evanescence of her care. The possibility of finality leaves you clinging onto straws. Abby thinks you did, but part of her, maybe leans in a little bit too. Is it pity? Closure? A craving? 

Your lips gently mold to hers, she tastes the salty tears left on your lips and the raspberry balm you must have put on. It’s everything to you yet she’s not sure what it means. You’re trying to cling onto her, yet she pulls away far too quickly for your liking. 

“Please, don’t do this.” Abby picks herself off the floor. “You should go back to your date.” 

“But I—” The words die, again. 

“What? You can’t fucking tell me and you’ve never been able to. I deserve better than this, better than you.” 

“You’re selfish, god, why’d you kiss me?” 

“Because I wanted to?” 

“Yeah, exactly. Because you want to. Have you ever thought about what I want?” Abby pushes, shaking her head, seriously inquiring you to think about someone else besides yourself. “Did you think about me when you were drunk calling me every weekend, pleading to get back together while I was at home crying every night? Do you think hearing you heartbroken made me feel good?” 

Aggravatedly, she huffs. “That’s the problem. You always think of yourself and I’m just collateral damage. Couldn’t bother to give me what I wanted when we both knew you felt it. Just like keeping me in the dark for fun, huh?” 

Abby adjusts her tie, reaching for the door as she hears you. She does a double-take, not believing what she’s heard. Now? 

“What did you just say?” 

“I love you, Abby. Please.” Don’t go. 

She smirks manically, it’s too bittersweet. You couldn’t be bothered to give her what she craved but now one taste from her lips sends you into overdrive? 

Fuck you, is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“And I loved you.” Abby tuts, her jaw clenches, hands tightly clenching against the other, knuckles blown white in her misery. “I’ll still care about you. I always will but I could never love you. Not when I was pleading for something and you could only offer me nothing in return.” 

“Abs—” 

“No.” You’re shocked by her dismissal of you. “I never deserved this. I want someone who will love me and not be afraid of it. Who won’t treat me like shit when I’m begging for a lifeline. Hopefully, you can give that to the next one but it just won’t be me.” She leaves swiftly. All you're left with is the scent of mahogany and her handkerchief. 

thanks for reading! mwah!

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Hello everyone, anyone here want a Dainsleif theory? Because I think I just figured out about 2/3rds of what went down in the Cataclysm regarding Dainsleif

Specifically why the Abyss Sibling blames Dain for the Cataclysm, while Dain blames the Five Sinners

Now a lot of this hinges around the datamined volumes of the Pale Princess and the Six Pigmies so if you want to wait, spoilers below the cut:

Hello everyone who is still here.

So when the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies came out, every theories I know was quick to say this was about the five sinners+ Dain and I agree, and what I’m going to do is fit that in with the new Dain lore we got in the wings.

This story starts with these paragraph in the Xbox wings:

This moment where the Abyss sibling is coming down and Dain is going up. Where they accidentally meet when Dain is trying to save his brother with the four other sinners is this moment from the six Pygmies:

Notice how they save Vedrfolnir first? The one Dain was trying to save?

Them then having to save the rest of the Pygmies has me suspicious that Dains rescue attempt did not go as smoothly as he had hoped.

Now what else happened? What was the noble deed? What is this paragraph all about?

Well, I think it’s this moment :

Now why did they do this? Before we get in to it, let me clear something up. The Prince of light is the abyss sibling in this allegory. They are the one from beyond the moon, who saves the kingdom, and is taking the Pale Princess with them. (Now why not the Traveler? Because the traveler is “Greatest foe who wields the sword that heralds the dawn” from the Night mothers prophecy at the end)

So now we know it’s the abyss sibling who’s getting betrayed here…the question is why? Didn’t they save them?

Well I think it has something to do with the abyss sibling and the traveler planning to leave eventually.

As we see from the Pygmies:

We know Khaenri’ah was obsessed with summoning a descender since the days of Perinheri. And now the abyss sibling want so leave, when they are the solution to this great problem.

And you know what Dain says about the sinners?

You know who just absorbed the abyss? The Abyss sibling.

And the Pygmies plans to use the prince :

The Shrunken Pygmy is probably Rhinedottir who used the power taken from the abyss sibling to make those abyssal monsters like Rifthounds that end up getting out of control (RIP Durin)

So the five sinners and Dain, because I’m sorry Dain you took some, the Six Pygmies is very clear that even if the disfigured Pygmy didn’t want to do so out of guilt, he didn’t stop it and seems to have agreed (since he gets cursed too)

Now you might be wondering, why? Did they think they were getting descender powers and instead got the abyss that got absorbed?

And I think the answer is yes. But not just yes, they thought they were getting descender powers. I think they actually did get descender powers.

Because isn’t it odd that only one of the siblings is a descender? And what does Dain call this power they stole from the “princes”/“abyss sibling”

Huh what could a world-shattering power be? Perhaps something to “rival an entire world”?

And as I said before, Khaenri’ah really, really wanted a descender.

So it seems like the six Pygmies (five sinners plus Dain) stole the abyss siblings descender powers for themselves…

And wait a second this sounds familiar…

The gnosis

Not to say they created the seven gnosis, but instead that they created six of their own, already corrupted with the abyss the abyss sibling had absorbed. But if we are comparing six parts to seven, should have been a fraction more powerful then those the gods wielded.

The arrogation of mankind cannot stand.

No wonder the Heavenly Principles called as many archons to Khaenri’ah as they could.

(I’m at the photo limit on this post so bear with me)

Dain is angry the sinners did not defend Khaenri’ah…and yet the sibling blames him for being unable to handle the problem by themselves. Why?

Let’s turn to the Raiden Shogun (specifically Ei’s) voice lines

“I'm fearful because of what I witnessed five hundred years ago — her demise and that thing. But, if... If it were you, everyone would be safe. You would've saved the world.”

The traveler would have saved the world huh?

Well of course, it should have been no problem for a descender…oh wait.

The five sinners (plus Dain) took the descenders powers.

No matter they should be able to defeat it if they all world together right?

But only Dain showed up.

This is why the sibling blames Dain for failing to stop it, Dain had a fraction of their powers and failed, proving those powers should never have been taken in the first place.

And why Dain blames the sinners, because if they had just worked together perhaps they could have stopped it.

But there’s still one more problem with this theory, the abyss sibling is recorded in Irminsul.

But you know what happens at the end of the Six Pygmies?

“Devastated, the pygmy wandered around in sorrow and regret. He hid the body in a tree hole and walked off alone into the night, and into a self-imposed exile.”

Dainsleif puts the body of the Abyss sibling in a tree.

Dainsleif, the Bough-keeper, put the Abyss sibling into Irminsul. He wrote them into the world. Why? Probably to bring them back in a way that allows them to still walk about Teyvat and cause trouble for us.

This also explains why Rukkhadevata was called back to tend to the tree and not sent to Khaenri’ah. What if the source of the corruption she had to make Nahida and erase herself to overcome, the forbidden knowledge’s heart…is the corrupted body of the abyss sibling that Dain wrote into the world?

(This might be why the Fatui want to burn Irminsul, a Homa cleansing ritual for the abyssal corruption written into it when it accepted the corrupted Abyss sibling).

Now we have come to the end of the theory and you might be wondering, but wait. This is leaving out one crucial character: if the abyss sibling is the light prince, the traveler is the Greatest Foe, and the Pygmies the sinners and Dain…aren’t we missing a few crucial characters?

And yes. We are.

Most likely, the Night mother is the Heavenly Principles. There is a chance she’s the Abyss itself. But i suspect she’s the heavenly principles what with the curse she puts on the Pale Princess’ people.

And there’s our main problems. Because the Pale Princess reveals something very crucial about this story:

We are missing a major player from the Cataclysm.

Who is she?

Easy answer? Probably Paimon. Or whoever Paimon was before she became small.

Other options: Angelica , either symbolically (the abyss sibling loved freedom above all else, hence the fear they would leave) or as I’ve theorized before Angelica herself could be an angel/envoy who went to Khaenri’ah once and is currently a “horse adeptus” from Moonlite bamboo forest (remember how the Pale Princess is from the Moonlite Forest?)

Fun option: somehow related to the Tsarista, aka a lover she lost in the Cataclysm. The Seele to her Bronya (if that is the direction they end up going with her).

Option that has many pieces I need to think on: Renova has a lot of motifs that look like Arlecchino and I’ve seen theories the Crimson Moon Dynasty worshiped the moon before realizing it was a god. That god might be the pale Princess (Renova or Istaroth) who despite not being worshiped was still around.

[kkolg]

Hi there! I recently was recommend your Abyss animatic on YouTube and was like… whoa…. WHAT IS THIS I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THIS AU‼️I’ve been scrolling through your tumbler for several days just soaking in everything about The New Dawn and I was curios what’s happening in this world. are they in an apocalypse of some sort? Either I didn’t scroll far enough on your Tumbler to know more or you just haven’t revealed yet 💀 . Don’t spill anything you don’t want to, I am here for it all.

Trust me you are NOT ALONE 😭😭, I probably should’ve mentioned that I’m super bad at writing down my thoughts when it comes to storytelling in general BUT IM HERE TO CLEAR THINGS UP NOW I SWEAR‼️‼️ The New Dawn AU summary will be under the cut as it might be a bit long lol ANYWAYS THANKS FOR BEING SO INTERESTED IN THE STORY THAT YOU ASKED AND I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL THE CONFUSION 🙏🧎‍♀️also disclaimer because I’m writing this before the season finale some things may change to be in further line with the show which is another reason I didn’t write out the story before BUT ANYWAYS ENJOY‼️‼️

So basically after the events of the show N and Uzi defeat the solver with the power of friendship (also V’s back idk) and they go back to outpost 3 and are like “YIPEEEE WEVE FINALLY DEFEATED THE ABSOLUTE SOLVER WITH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP ALSO DO I HEAR A SONG COMING ON???” And then they all start dancing and Uzi is essentially the new leader of the colony (if you couldn’t tell this part of the story is not that important but you can interpret what I said here as fully cannon in the au if you want lol)

Not too long after that N is like “hey can we try to like reform the disassembly drones and let them into the colony?” And Uzis like “wait that’s an amazing idea” and then they make out but that’s not important- so they go out and start telling all the disassemblys they can find that the solver is gone and can’t spread anymore and that living with the workers is actually pretty lit. A good lot of them are like “woah I didn’t know you were chill like that” and most of them go to live in outpost 3, a few of them are skeptical and still wanna eat workers so not all of the disassembly are chill but most of them are.

While doing this they come across a disassembly drone named A and he’s like “sure I’ll join” and he does…..but he’s not a very cool guy- I plan to make a comic about this so I’m gonna be vague and just say turns out he’s insane and N basically exiled him from the colony.

Fast forward like a month from that incident and Kim is created, finally, and the Doorman’s live happily ever af- WRONG turns out A ganged up with all of the other mean disassembly drones and try’s to just OBLITERATE the colony during a raid and whoopdeedo Thad dies but I’ll make a comic about that later so I won’t get too detailed. OH YEAH KIM IS ALSO ABSOLUTELY TRAUMATIZED SO THATS GREAT-

Fast forward a few years and now we’re in the current time of where most of my comics/drawings take place. Kim is older and looks in the forbidden trauma closet that N and Uzi said never to look in but rebellious child I guess, and he finds stuff about the solver. Getting curious he pulls an Uzi to leave the colony and try to find out what the fuck this thing is and OH NO X JUMPSCARE, again another thing I’ll probably make a comic about but they fight, X says that a certain guy she knows might know about the solver thingy, they become buddies, C-1 is also there- weird visions start to make Kim have a robot seizures, and that’s kinda where we’re at rn

I hope this cleared up a lot of questions you guys may have had and I’ll be adding a link to this post on my pinned in case you ever need to refer back to this‼️‼️

anyways byeeeeeee

[angelsworks]

Happy Birthday Klaus Mikaelson x Pinkie Pie! Reader

Type: Challenge One shot

Challenge Masterlist -> Here

Summary: You celebrate Klaus’ birthday, much to his displeasure.

Warnings: Nothing really , mentions of violence

If you could do anything for anyone it would be making them feel special. In a world practically bursting with people, it’s easy for some to fall through the cracks. Into the lonely abyss of forgotten. While you enjoy time to yourself, sometimes it’s too much.

The feeling of not being connected to anyone had deeply upset you since you were young. Maybe it was friends never trying with your relationship, or busy parents or teachers never bothering to learn your name because of your quiet nature. All of it combined really brought you down.

Until it didn’t and it instead pissed you off. You channeled how you felt to become more sociable in high school, using it as your chance to start again. You spoke with everyone no matter the clique or social status. Determined that no one in your reach would feel like you.

Naturally this filtered into celebrating birthdays. Whether it was bringing in presents or cards to any and everyone you’d spoken to. People in your class, in your after school groups, on your street. By sophomore year you’d cemented your position as the peppy party planner who was always the life of the party.

You’d kept that up all the way till senior year. Happy to make others happy. You kept a list of everyone birthday. Always staying on top of them. So why did everyone expect you to exclude Klaus Mikaelson from your list?

“I just don’t get it, how do you even know his birthday?” Caroline asked, before stabbing a piece of cake on her paper plate.

You smile as you pack away some blue solo cups, “I know everyone’s birthday.”

The blonde gives you a questioning look.

You laugh, “Maybe I’ve got some Bennet blood in my veins and I’m psychic.” You muse.

Caroline rolls her eyes, “When you can light candles with your mind let me know.”

“If I could, I still wouldn’t be able to put enough candles on Klaus’ cake.” The party had been for one of the girls in your art class. She’d asked if you’d help make it a memorable birthday and you could do nothing but deliver.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. There’s all that stuff that happened with him and what if he like, I dunno, kills you?”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “That was ages ago. Now him and Elena are practically on speaking terms. Rebekah had no problem when I brought her a cake.”

Caroline chokes on the freshly frosted piece of blue birthday cake. One you’d made especially for Emily. From the rest of the decorations and the dress code, anyone could tell that was her favourite colour.

“Rebekah Mikaelson? She’s crazy. The amount of times she’s tried to kill me, to kill Elena.” She starts to rant.

It was true the Mikaelsons had brought trouble into town with them. Klaus was desperate for Elena’s blood, ready to kill anyone who stopped him. He and his family often clashed with Caroline and her friends. Occasionally you too, yet you tried to stay out of it.

After all parties had gotten what they wanted, with much mediation on Elijah’s part and changing of the a spell on Bonnie’s, they managed to reach an agreement.

“It was all smoother over, what it not?” You ask her, still busy packing away decorations. “Aren’t you meeting Elena today?”

Caroline raises her eyebrows in shock and practically throws her cake down. She takes a napkin to wipe her face, then starts to collect her stuff.

“You are totally right. Elena wants me to help Jenna pick out an outfit for her and Ricks anniversary.” She tells you.

“Thank you so much for this. Just be safe with Klaus okay. Don’t do anything reckless.” You wave her off, finally being able to stack boxes of party supplies together.

You say your goodbyes and watch the blonde hurry off. It doesn’t take long to pack all the items away. You see Emily before you leave. She’s clearly having a good time, with more than juice in her solo cup. She slurs her goodbye and thanks you extensively, at one point wrapping her arms around you in a jumble of a hug.

For Klaus’ cake you decided to go simple. Well simple ish. It was a plain enough cake that said happy birthday in white buttercream. It was covered in a blue fondant. When you finish you realise how boring it looks. While you don’t want to push your limits with this cake, you also want to go above and beyond for Klaus.

You’d heard of his tales, of what he’d done in the past. You’d also seen him around town. Always alone. It seemed he didn’t have all that many friends, outside of his siblings. Even they didn’t act like friends.

It reminded you of how you felt all those years ago. Alone and sad. Lonely in a town so small you’d bump into teachers all the time. Sometimes in the most inconvenient locations.

So you added extra details. You fashioned a brush and paint pallet out of fondant. Arranging it carefully on top of the cake. When you were satisfied with your work you put the cake in the box and in the fridge.

You wrote out a card and packed his present in a small bag. The present in question was a pack of small canvases and brushes. You knew he liked to paint. Once you’d seen his work on the wall of the Mikaelsons house. It was a large piece, portraying a field of flowers and a serene sky filled with the colours of a sunset. It was truly marvellous.

Yet it got you thinking, what about little canvases? Little piece of work that wouldn’t be as large a project, but could require just as much detail and precision for the small space.

Eyes wide and lips pulled up to smile brightly, you walked through the door of the bar. It was a little difficult with the large cake in your hands and present and card bag dangling from your arm, but your managed. You searched for Klaus, finding the man in a booth in a the corner of the bar. He sat alone of course, nursing a glass of scotch.

He didn’t look up when you walked towards his table. The bar was fairly empty and he was clearly in his own world.

You place the cake down on the table, then pulled the bag of your arm, placing it down next to it. Then you sit opposite him in the booth, moving the items on the table aside slightly so you can see Klaus.

Klaus’ eyebrows knit together in confusion. He knew you of course. Noticed you at his family’s ball and around town. He’d heard Rebekah gushing about you to Elijah. Talking about how happy she’d been when you brought her a cake and made her feel special.

“What all this Love?” He asks. You try not to let the pet name mean anything. While Klaus is an extremely attractive person you’re here for a purpose.

“Happy birthday!” You smile wildly then pull out a party blower from your pocket, giving it a blow. Much to the other patrons (not that there are many) displeasure.

He lets a small smile grow on his face, “Sorry love, but I think birthdays stop counting after you move into a four digits age.”

You shake your head, “No way. If you’re immortal then so is your birthday buddy.”

“Buddy?” He asks incredulous.

You push the bag towards him. To which he cautiously peels back the the tissue paper and pulls out the contents.

“They’re mini canvases.” You tell him. Then explain how you’ve see his work - which you think was really beautiful - and how you though painting a smaller canvas would be a different challenge and a change for him. He nods along. Almost entranced by what you’re saying.

“That’s really thoughtful, love. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time anyone celebrated my birthday.” He told you earnestly. Genuinely so appreciative of your kind gesture.

“Well that’s a real shame Klaus.” For a moment your eyes connect and you feel rooted in place. You try not to blush so instead move on to remove the cover of his cake.

“Now don’t get too upset, but there aren’t any candles on your cake. I think it would be a little difficult to fit over 1000 candles on there.” He laughs. Eyes move to appraise the cake. They widen in surprise at the detail on the cake and the paint pallet and paintbrush you’ve created.

“This looks amazing love. Thank you.” It’s the first time you’ve seen Klaus Mikaelson smile. It’s genuine and lights his face. For a moment he doesn’t look like some scary vampire. He looks like a man enjoying his birthday.

“Happy Birthday Klaus Mikaelson. Have a great day.” You say, reaching a hand out to his own.

Time seems to slow as you stare into his eyes. Your hands entwine and your heart skips a beat. You notice how there’s some green in his dark blue eyes. For a moment they shine gold.

It’s enough to bring you out of your daze. You move to stand only for Klaus to stop you.

“Aren’t you staying for a piece?”

[scoonsalicious]

Unsatisfied, Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: After game night, Bucky promised to ruin you come morning. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Explicit Sexual Content: Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (FaceTime sex, hand stuff), Pocket still not being over her trauma, mentions of past injury.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hi, besties!

It's me, ya gurl, with Part 2 of the post-Unwanted one-shot that's become a three-shot, lol! I fucking missed the absolute hell out of these two, and I'm so happy to be back with them for a little bit. Writing for Pocket and her Bucky is just like... I don't know. It's like I'm not even making stuff up, just channeling it, because it comes so easily, unlike literally everything else I try to write. I can't say when I'm going to resume WFLT. To be perfectly candid, I might put it on extended hiatus while I work on other things that seem to come easier right now. I don't know yet. I just want to be up front with everyone.

Here's where my attentions are currently focused: Finishing Unsatisfied, an untitled collab with @mrsbuckybarnes1917, writing Hunted, and plotting Unbroken. For some reason, there is just a giant Gandalf standing between me and WFLT, waving his staff and shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I'll let you know when I whip him into the abyss. And yes, that does make me the Balrog in this scenario, and I, too, fall to my death in the depths of Moria. It's an imperfect analogy, okay? At least I'm not Sean Bean, dying all over the place.

Anyway, enjoy more Pocket and Bucky! I know I do! xoxo

“I miss you,” you moaned into the screen of your phone. Your voice sounded pitiful, even to your own ears, but you were lonely and you didn’t have the shame to hide it. Especially not from the man you were talking to.

“I miss you, too, sweets,” Bucky said with a dejected sigh that let you know your feelings of misery were mutual. “It shouldn’t be longer than a few more days, then I’ll come back home to ya, and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, his promise setting your skin awash in goosebumps. ‘Where you’d left off’ had been finally, finally, coming back together after nearly twelve months of self-imposed celibacy, spending the first night together, in your new apartment, wrapped in each other’s arms, with his co—

“At least we got our bubble bath before things went fully to shit,” Bucky added, a smile playing on his lips from across the distance, as though he knew exactly where your thoughts had taken you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, remembering the feel of him, so warm and solid, against your back in the tub. After he’d kicked out your friends from the impromptu game night they’d decided to throw at your new place, and you’d gotten over your freakout when Sam had inadvertently joked about Bucky ‘cheating’ at a card game, the two of you had spent a much needed evening just in each other’s company. Intimacy, but not sex, the way your therapist had recommended, with Bucky promising to ruin you come daybreak. 

Instead, though, a call had come from Fury in the middle of the night. A group of terrorists, counting some several enhanced among them, had stolen a biological weapon and were threatening to decimate the population of Shanghai unless the Chinese government gave into their demands, and so, The Avengers, Bucky included, had been called away.

You’d offered to go, just so you could stay close to him. You’d never even leave the Quinjet, you’d promised, out of the action, but neither Bucky nor Tony was eager to see you back on the field, not after what had happened the last time. Even though you’d had your last reconstructive surgery months ago, and your doctors had given you the all clear, between your boyfriend and your pseudo-brother, you weren’t leaving New York anytime soon.

That had been over a week ago. Negotiations with the terrorists had not gone according to plan, and they were probably going to have to fight it out. And as for you? You were ready to climb the fucking walls.

“How’s wedding stuff going?” Bucky asked, referring to your role as Maid of Honor in Pepper and Tony’s upcoming nuptials. “Keeping you busy?”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject, Barnes,” you practically growled at him. “I am so fucking desperate for your cock, I swear to god–”

From somewhere off camera, you could hear a cacophony of sound– a combination of Sam and Clint’s uproarious laughter and Tony shouting “JESUS CHRIST BARNES, USE YOUR FUCKING HEADPHONES!”

Bucky’s face had turned crimson in the video call, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that came bubbling from you as he abruptly stood up and removed himself into a darker, quieter area.

“Shit,” he exhaled as he got himself re-situated in the new, hopefully more private, space. He ran a hand down his face in embarrassment. “Didn’t mean for them to hear all that, doll.”

You laughed as you twisted a strand of hair around your finger in the way you knew he liked. “What happened to your earbuds, baby?” you teased. 

Bucky reached up and pulled an airpod from his ear, looking at the small device as though it had personally offended him. “I thought they were on!” he exclaimed. “If I’d known I’d been broadcasting you for the whole fucking team to hear, I woulda gone somewhere a lot more private to begin with.”

“The whole team?” you asked, cautiously. You didn’t want to say any names, but you needed to know if he was there, too. If he’d heard you.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, catching your meaning and lowering his voice. “Rogers is here.”

You swallowed and nodded solemnly. You hadn’t spoken to Steve Rogers since he’d made his horrible confession to you in the hospital, of the ways he’d manipulated your life to keep you and Bucky apart. All culminating in Bucky’s betrayal, your temporary death, the loss of your unborn baby. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, thinking only of Bucky in the moment. It was easy for you to stay away from Steve, to ignore him– your anger toward him had far surpassed any level of fondness you’d once had for Captain America, but you knew how much harder it was for Bucky to break a bond of nearly a century. Not that you would have ever forbidden him from reconnecting with Steve, if that was what he had wanted. No, Bucky had decided on his own that some things couldn’t be forgiven. No matter how many decades of friendship might lie behind them.

“Yeah,” he sighed, though you could tell from the look in his eyes that it was harder for him than he was letting on. “It’s awkward, but if we keep it strictly to business, it’s manageable. It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and you wished so badly that you could be there to smooth the lines from his distraught face. “It’s just… sometimes he makes it hard to remember what he did.”

You nodded, feeling guilty that you were the reason the two were no longer friends. That Steve had betrayed Bucky because of his desire for you. 

“Don’t go blaming yourself, sweets,” Bucky chastised you knowingly. It was like he could read your mind. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a look. “I know how that pretty head works, doll, and I know you’re blaming yourself. Stop it. He made his own bed, now he gets to lie in it.”

“I know,” you lamented. “I just hate that you have to pay the emotional cost of his bad decisions, that’s all.”

Bucky frowned at you. “Just like I hate how you had to pay the costs for mine, doll,” he said softly. “Our actions have consequences. We have to live with them, so we don’t make the same fuck ups again.”

You subconsciously let your hand drift to your abdomen, your fingers delicately tracing over the scar that was the only external reminder that you’d been shot. Had technically been killed. Had lost a lot more than your life. You were grateful Bucky could only see you from the chest up.

“Well, this conversation took a turn,” you said, trying to get off of subjects you’d rather not dwell on. “Can we go back to talking about how fucking horny I am for you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and god, how it warmed your heart that you could still get that reaction out of him after everything you’d both gone through. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he adjusted himself in whatever seat he was in. “If it helps, I’m horny as hell for you, too, sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth as he nodded his head. “Yeah, hearing that does help. Show me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened through the screen. “Show you?” he breathed, clearly not having anticipated where you were about to take the conversation. “What do you mean, ‘show you’, doll?”

“I mean,” you said, leaning back against the headboard to make yourself more comfortable, “show me that pretty cock of yours, Sergeant. Take it out. Stroke it for me. I wanna see what I’ve been missing.”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes went back and forth between the phone screen and the door that separated him from the rest of the team. You could tell from the way he was gnawing at his bottom lip that he was seriously debating it, but that he had some real reservations. “Doll,” he whispered, sounding scandalized, but excited, “they’re right outside. They’ll hear me.”

You smirked at the way he’d suddenly become shy. “I wanna hear you, Sarge,” you pleaded in a breathy whisper, and from the way he closed his eyes and moaned at your words, you knew he was so close to giving you what you wanted. “Come on, baby,” you cooed. “Can’t you show Pocket that pretty pink cock she’s been wanting so badly? Can’t I watch you choke it with your big hands while I imagine my mouth wrapped around it? Pozhaluysta, Soldat?”

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you knew you’d won when he hopped up from where he’d been sitting. Though you couldn’t see it from the way he was letting the phone dangle, you could hear him lock the door. “You know I can’t resist it when you speak Russian, doll,” he said as he sat back down, propping the phone and its camera up against something so that you could see his entire body stretched out before you. 

“YA rasschityval na eto, detka,” you said with a grin. I was counting on it, baby. You could see now that he was in a bedroom of what looked like a standard SHIELD safehouse. It was small– only one twin-sized bed, so you weren’t worried about anyone else barging in to need the space. 

“So, how do we do this?” he asked, and you could hear the nervousness mixed with excitement in his voice. It struck you that, throughout your relationship, and all the time you’d spent apart while one or the other was away on missions, the two of you had actually never done this before. Phone sex, yeah, but never on video, together. It was going to be new territory, and it thrilled you. 

“We?” you asked playfully, pretending you had no idea what he was talking about. 

Bucky looked at you sternly though the screen of your phone and you involuntarily shivered under his gaze. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to see that sweet, dripping cunt of yours tonight, doll. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. Got just a taste of it the other day, and it wasn’t nearly enough.”

Fuck, you could feel yourself dampen and your nipples harden just from his words alone, not to mention the memory of the brief moment on your terrace, before the movers had arrived, when he’d had his deliciously thick fingers pressed inside of you.

“Baby,” you moaned, not even realizing you were trailing your fingertips over the pebbled flesh of your breasts under your shirt, imagining his rough, calloused hands on you. 

“Take off your clothes, Pocket,” Bucky growled. He didn’t ask; it wasn’t a request. It was a command, and you were ready to obey. 

“Sir, yes sir, Sergeant,” you said, and you were sure you looked anything but graceful as you sped to pull your top over your head and shimmy out of the pair of cheeky panties you wore. The cool breeze of the air conditioning danced along your flushed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his eyes following the path your fingers traced along the contours of your body. You watched hungrily as he absentmindedly palmed himself through the Tac pants he still frustratingly donned. “God, you look even better‘n I remember, sweets,” he grunted. “Better than I’ve been imaginin’ all week. How the fuck’s that even possible?”

“Buck,” you warned, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his obviously false praise as you turned to hide your face from his gaze. “Stop. I know you don’t mean that.”

Frowning, Bucky leaned forward, picking up the phone so he could bring his face close to the camera, scrutinizing you. “Pocket,” he said, but you refused to look at him. “Pocket!” he tried again, his voice a little firmer, but still gentle. “Why the fuck would I not mean that, sweetheart? You’re gorgeous.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. It was kind of him to lie to spare your feelings, really, but you didn’t think you could take it. Not from him. Not after everything. Without thought, your hand moved to cover your bullet wound from his gaze. “Come on, Buck,” you said, your tone implying that you weren’t buying his bullshit, no matter how sweetly he was selling it, “we both know you weren’t imagining me with all these new scars.”

“Baby.” Bucky made a noise somewhere between a choked laugh and an incredulous groan. “You can’t seriously think I, of all fucking people, give a shit about a couple of tiny scars?” He put the phone down, and your view of him was obstructed for a moment while you heard the rustle of cloth. When he lifted it up again, you saw he had taken off his vest and Tac shirt. He pointed to the ruined skin of his left shoulder.

“Look at these and tell me you think I’m gonna be turned off by a coupla’ scars, Pocket,” he said, and you could detect the hard edge to his voice. 

“It’s different, Buck,” you told him, your voice cracking. “You already had those scars when we met; they were a part of the man I fell in love with. You…” you hastily wiped at the tear that was suddenly threatening to fall from your eye. “Mine… mine weren’t. You didn’t get a choice in them.”

You watched as the look on Bucky’s face morphed into one of pure confusion. Of course he didn’t fully understand– you weren’t just talking about scars, after all. He… just didn’t realize that yet.

“You didn’t have a choice in them, either, sweetheart,” he said softly, eying the way your hand protectively rested over your abdomen. “And if you’re talking about the scar from when you got shot… well, fuck, if that scar’s not my favorite thing.”

You looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. “How could this… disgusting reminder…” you choked out, “of everything that happened last year… how could that be your favorite thing, Bucky?”

“That scar means you’re alive, doll,” he told her. “That you’re still breathing, still with me, in spite of all of it. So forgive me if I think that makes it the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled, his words momentarily taking away the sting of the inadequacy you’d felt ever since the doctors had told you about the extent of your condition. It wasn’t something you were purposefully keeping from Bucky… You had just been too terrified to say it out loud. You were going to tell him. Just not yet.

"Look at me Doll,” he said, getting your attention back onto his face, “I don't like that I have to tell you this at all, but I'm gonna do it, as many times as you need, as many times as it takes for you to believe me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You felt your face soften, the tension of insecurity drop from your shoulders as he looked at you through the phone screen, eyes blue pools of adoration. You wanted so badly to just get lost in him, to let him consume you until you were capable of thinking of nothing but him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s something more than just the scar, isn’t it, sweets? You’ve never been ashamed of showing me your body before.” You weren’t vain as a rule, and Bucky knew this about you. You had other scars, worse ones. Uglier ones, but none had ever bothered you the way this one had. None had ever carried the same degree of psychological and emotional baggage. 

You just nodded, afraid that if you spoke, you’d reveal what you’d been keeping from him, blurt it out before you could stop yourself, and it was not the kind of thing you wanted to do over video with thousands of miles of distance between you.

“You don’t have to tell me, doll,” he said, the understanding in his voice so pure that it made you ache. “I know so many of my actions have hurt you; I get that there’s still some trust–”

“Baby, no,” you interrupted. “I trust you, I do. I want to tell you. I’m just… not ready yet.”

“Tell me what I can do for you right now, then, sweetheart,” he offered. He’d brought the phone close to his face, his gaze on you intense and burning through the screen. “What do you need?”

You exhaled, the sight of him so focused and sincere making your knees feel weak. “Just you, Buck,” you whispered, the words coming out in a breathy sigh. “I just want you.”

“I’m right here, doll.” His voice turned low, darker. A soft purr that vibrated your insides. “And I’ll be home with you real soon, but you gotta tell me what I can do for you right. now.”

You sucked in a shuddering gasp of air, indulging in the way his words swept over your body like a languid kiss. Without even thinking, you felt your hand drift down your abdomen, your fingertips dancing along the top of your thigh.

“Buck,” you found yourself whining as you squirmed your ass across the mattress, searching for any inch of friction you could find. 

“Yeah, baby,” he grunted, readjusting the camera so it was once again propped up and you could see the length of him pressing against the material of his tac-pants. “Tell Sergeant Barnes what you want so he can give it to you.”

A beat of silence passed between you before you both started laughing, your hand coming to cover your face as you suppressed a snort. “Oh my god, Barnes!” you wheezed.

“Yeah, that was awful,” he laughed, palming his face in embarrassment. “Did I kill it?”

You wiped away a stray tear that had leaked from your eye in your laughter. “You’re lucky I find your bad jokes to be such a fucking turn on,” you told him with a grin. 

Bucky frowned. “Wasn’t supposed to be a joke, doll,” he grumbled, a pout forming on his beautiful pink lips. “‘S supposed to be sexy.”

“Oh, I found it very sexy,” you assured him. “You make me laugh, Barnes. That’s the hottest fucking thing I can imagine. Now take off your pants.”

The look in Bucky’s eyes turned from playfully annoyed to seductively heated in the space of a nanosecond. He reached for the zipper of his tac-pants and you licked your lips at the sound of it coming undone. “Get the camera all set up, doll,” he said as he shimmied the pants down his legs. “I want to see every inch of you.”

With a grin, you propped your camera up between your legs, giving Bucky a front row seat to your dripping core. “This work for you, Sarge?” you asked.

“Fuck, sweets,” he began, palming at himself through his boxer-briefs. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Show me,” you commanded him, bringing your fingers down to lightly trace the outer edges of your lower lips. “Show me how well this view works for you, baby.”

Bucky scrambled to pull his boxer briefs down to his thick thighs, and you watched with bated breath as his cock sprung free, its beautiful, pink tip already glistening with precum. Your entire body erupted in tingles at the sight of him. He was so fucking gorgeous, and he was yours.

“Jesus,” you hissed, bringing a hand to your breast and gently squeezing the flesh. You could feel your mouth thicken with saliva at just the idea of having him down your throat.

“Just Bucky’s fine, baby,” he teased as he grabbed a hold of himself, and you rolled your eyes. “No need to bring God into it.” Slowly, he began stroking his length. You watched in awe as he seemed to grow harder with every downward pull, the veins in his thighs bulging as he thrust his hips up against his hand. If anyone was going to be compared to God during sex, it would and should be Bucky Barnes.

“Touch that pretty clit for me, doll,” he grunted. “Pretend it’s my fingers on you, getting you all warmed up to take my cock.”

“Fuck, Buck,” you whimpered, your fingers moving frantically over your bundle of nerves. You were already soaked; just the sight of him had sent another wave of arousal gushing through you. “Want your dick in my pussy so bad, baby. So fucking bad, it hurts.”

“Soon, sweetheart,” he grunted, watching your fingers strum your clit with wild eyes. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll fill you up so good, you won’t be able to walk normal for weeks.”

You arched your back and moaned, the memory of the way he stretched you as he entered you, opening you wider than any other man you’d ever had, flooded your mind. “Nothing fills me like you do, baby,” you panted. “Nothing hits me so deep.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, and you could hear the delicious slick, slick sound of his hand moving through the precum that soaked his shaft. “Not even those fancy toys you bought?”

Bucky chuckled when he noticed your eyes pop open and stare at him in surprise. “Oh, I know all about those, doll.” Slick, slick, slick. “Found ‘em when I was helping you pack for the move. All of them.”

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and if you didn’t already have your hand on your pussy right in front of him, you might have been embarrassed. “All those toys, and none of them gets me off as good as you do, Buck,” you breathed. “None of them reach that spot the way you do.” It was true– it was the one thing you had desperately searched for during your time of Bad Decisions– someone to hit that place deep inside of you that set your every nerve ending on fire, that made you shiver and convulse with pleasure with each thrust. No one had ever brought on that full body climax that left you shaking and weak like Bucky had. 

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “No one touches your A-spot but me.”

“No,” you gasped. You loved how he knew your body so well, knew what he did to you, how you longed for his touch. “No one touches me like you, baby.” 

“Put your fingers in, sweets,” he commanded. “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on that pretty little hand while I pretend it’s my cock.”

You did as he asked, bringing two fingers to your weeping entrance and plunging them inside you. They would never feel as thick or go as deep as any part of Bucky, but for now, they were all you had, so you made the most of them, driving them in and out of your cunt with abandon. 

“Fuck…” you grunted as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten, sweat glistening off your brow. “Baby!”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky said between grunts of his own. “Tell me how good you feel.”

“So good, Buck,” you moaned. “So fucking good. Want you so bad, Bucky! So fucking bad!”

“I’m right there with you, doll,” he panted. “I’m so close. Gonna blow all over and imagine it’s inside that pretty pussy of yours. Gonna come home and bury myself in your cunt, sweets! Not gonna come out for days!”

“Oh shit, Bucky,” you cried, your release a hare's breath away. “Wanna cum with you, baby.” You curled your fingers inside of you, stroking your G-spot again, and again, trying to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers inside of you. 

“Just a little longer, sweetheart.” Bucky was yanking at his member now, his pace quick and frantic. 

You felt yourself rising, clawing to the very edge of the precipice, but before you could hurl yourself over the edge, you accidentally hit your phone with your foot, sending it falling to the floor.

You scrambled for the phone. It had landed face-down in the dark, making it harder for you to find, but you followed the sounds of Bucky’s grunts and moans until you made contact. Turning the phone back over, you watched as Bucky, eyes screwed closed, reached his peak, ropes of cum erupting from the tip of his cock and landing across his stomach and hand. 

And, as surely as if someone had doused you with a bucket of water, the spell was broken. You were painfully reminded that he wasn’t there with you. He was half a world away, still out of your reach. 

You sniffled, and Bucky opened his eyes at the sound. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice laced with concern, “what’s wrong? Did you cum?”

You hitched a breath, holding back a sob, and shook your head. “You’re not here, Buck,” you cried. “It’s not… I thought… I just want to be with you. I miss you so fucking much!” You knew you sounded petulant, like a child, but you were at your limit, truly. You wanted nothing more than to be back to normal with him. A better normal, even, now without the shadow of Carthage looming over you both.

“Oh, doll.” Bucky picked up his phone and brought it close to his face, his now flaccid cock out of frame. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Do you wanna try again? We can focus just on you. Make sure you get off nice and good.”

You shook your head, feeling the tears of frustration and longing slide down your cheeks. “No,” you 

whimpered. “I think… I think I just wanna go to sleep.”

Bucky frowned at you, the look in his eyes sorrowful. “I fucking hate that I’m too far away to help you, Pocket,” he said. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, knowing you’re hurting.”

“It’s just been so long, Buck,” you whispered to him as you buried yourself under the blankets of your bed. “I feel like every time we even try, something keeps getting in our way. What if it’s the universe, trying to tell us we shouldn’t be getting back together?”

Bucky sighed, thick and heavy. “I know you don’t believe that, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s just been some bad timing; we got out of our groove, is all. I promise, things will go back to the way they were. The way they’re supposed to be.”

Not long ago, you told him that his promises didn’t mean shit to you, but now… now, you wanted to believe him more than anything.

“It’s just a little longer,” he clarified.  You nodded, swallowing down any remaining tears that threatened to fall. You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him, but the part of you that had been irrevocably broken when he’d hurt you couldn’t help but whisper that, maybe, in some way, he’d always leave you unsatisfied.

<- Part 1 / Part 3 ->

[fortheloveofwonderland]

🎵 Hiya can i request Spencer and x reader with the Lyrics

I’ve found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new, and the reason is you - The Reason by Hoobastank

🎵

This yet again turned out way angstier than planned and I’m sorry for that. Hopeful ending though! Basically - what if Spencer didn’t get sober when he did?

The Reason

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer’s drug addiction cost him everything: his job, his friends and the love of his life. When he finally decides to get clean, can he convince you that you were the reason for his newfound sobriety?

CW - drug use, mentions of weight loss, slightly aggressive behaviour, swearing, rehab, twelve step program, hopeful ending.

WC - 2.9k

The hardest part of anything of a self destructive nature was how close knit you became with it. Addiction was now interwoven in the fabric of the Spencer Reid canvas, as much as any other facet of his life. 

Leaving it behind, as he’d tried and failed to do many times, felt like severing a limb. Giving up his vice would be like killing the very part of himself that taught him how to survive. 

Addiction was an inherently selfish disease. Somewhere along the line Spencer had stopped caring about anyone or anything that didn’t directly pertain to getting high. 

What had started as him using when the torment got too much had ended up in him using simply to feel ok. As time passed he needed more and more of the drug to reach the high he craved. And in turn that made it harder for him to even consider the idea of quitting. 

By this point his mind was clouded only by thoughts of drugs. It took a hold of him, wrapping its tentacles around him and dragging him down into an abyss of his own creation. 

His addiction had taken everything from him piece by piece; little by little. It had gotten in the way of his job, his work obligations becoming less important to him than getting high. 

And so he’d been fired from the BAU. 

It had taken his health, his energy and motivation. He’d lost more weight than he had to lose, or so he’d been told. But it also took away his ability to see the world clearly and so he didn’t notice the skeletal form staring back at him in the mirror. 

One by one it had destroyed his friendships. Some had held out longer than others, JJ and Garcia in particular trying to cloy Spencer back to reality far longer than anyone else. 

But his drug use made him angry, almost aggressive. And eventually even his two best friends had given up on him. But honestly, Spencer didn’t even have the impetus to care. 

Through it all, you remained stalwart. You were determined to stay by his side and help him every step of the way. 

But once it became clear that Spencer didn’t want your help, there really wasn’t much you could do but walk away too. 

Your two year relationship came to a sudden and horrible end one night when you’d tried to help him detox. He’d been drug free for twelve hours and thankfully he’d slept through most of that. 

But when he woke up was when it all went so horrifically wrong and after that night you knew Spencer was no longer the man you’d fallen in love with. 

He screamed and yelled and fought for you to let him out of the apartment, to let him buy more drugs. 

One more hit, that’s what he kept saying. One more hit and then I promise no more. 

With tears streaming down his face and trembling hands, looking more scared and lost than anyone you’d ever seen, it would have been easy to give him the world on a silver platter. 

But you remained strong, blocking the doorway with your body and refusing to let him out. You tried to reason with him that he didn’t need them, that everything was going to be ok without them. 

But Spencer was long past listening to reason. 

The final nail in the coffin that had been your relationship was when he forcibly grabbed you by the shoulders and peeled you away from the door with more strength than you knew he possessed.

He threw you aside like you were a discarded gum wrapper and you fell to the floor in a heap. And maybe if that had just been the end of it, you might have been able to salvage things. 

But it wasn’t the end. 

You were quick to jump back to your feet, grabbing his wrist as he went to open the door. You spun him to face you and as if in a blink of an eye his tears had dried and the eyes looking back at you weren’t the same ones you’d known for the last two years.

His eyes were so dark they were black, pupils bleeding into the gold of his irises and swallowing them whole. Looking back at you was a man you didn’t recognise. 

That was only further confirmed when he took you by the shoulders again and slammed you against the wall, causing a small whimper of pain to leave your lips as your back collided with the hard surface. 

His grip on your shoulders was like a vice, his blunt fingernails digging into your flesh even through your shirt. He looked manic, evil; and that terrified you.

“I swear to god Y/N if you try to stop me leaving the goddamn apartment…” he spat, trailing off at the end of his sentence. 

“You’ll what?” You bit back, despite the fear coursing through your body. 

“You don’t want me to answer that. Do not make me choose between drugs and you, because I can promise you, you will not like the outcome.” 

His grip on you tightened and you whimpered again, sure he would leave bruises. 

“S-Spencer, you’re hurting me.” Your voice was trembling. 

“No I’m not, don’t be so pathetic.” He snarled at you. 

“You’re scaring me.” 

“This is nothing compared to how scary I will be if you don’t let me out of this fucking apartment.” 

You knew then that it was over. For the first time in two years you didn’t see the love he held for you pooling from his eyes. You didn’t know this man. You certainly didn’t love him. 

And as much as you wanted to help him you knew you couldn’t. He was passed help. And you would only be putting yourself in danger if you stayed. 

“If you leave,” your voice cracked with emotion. “I won’t be here when you come back. If you choose drugs over me then we’re over, Spencer.” 

There hadn’t been even a hint of hesitation when he’d suddenly let you go, stepped back, shrugged and spoke again. 

“You can see yourself out then.” 

And that was the last time you saw him until, a little over a year later, when you received a phone call from the one person you never expected to hear from again. 

***

Spencer Reid was not a perfect person. There were many, many things he wished he hadn’t done. 

But taking the vials of dilaudid from the dead man who’d held him hostage was probably one of the dumbest. 

He tried to get sober but the longer he used the harder he found it to quit. For a time he managed to hide his addiction from everyone, you included, but it quickly spiralled out of control. 

Had he been in his right mind, there was no way he would have put anything above his relationship with you. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, he still remembered meeting you like it was yesterday. 

You were a student in Gideon’s class around his age and on the occasions when he spent his time away from the BAU shadowing his mentor at the university, the two of you had grown close. 

You were his first relationship, he still even now didn’t really understand how someone like you was interested in someone like him. But he counted his lucky stars every single day. 

But his drug use got out of hand and really the moment you walked away should have been the wake up call he needed. Unfortunately it wasn’t. 

After that night he continued using for another ten months. That time passed him by slowly and rapidly in equal measure.

His whole life had fallen apart but all he could think of was his next hit. The small windows of clarity that came when he woke up in the morning didn’t last long as he often shot up before he’d even indulged in his first coffee of the day. 

Being sober terrified him. If he was sober too long then he would have time to reflect on all the things he’d lost and all the things Hankel had done to him. 

But then one morning before he stuck that needle in his vein, he ventured into his living room. 

It had been months since he’d seen this particular room through sober eyes and maybe that was why it had taken him so many months to notice it. 

It was innocuous in its smallness which paled in comparison to the rest of the room. Perhaps it was the sunlight seeping in between the cracks in the curtains, causing the item to shimmer that caught his attention. 

He padded towards it, the small glint of silver set against the dark wood floorboards just to the left of his front door. When he reached it, he fell to the ground and picked it up between his fingers. 

The cool metal of the chain tingled against his fingertips and he cradled the small pendant in his palm. 

On your first official date when Spencer had taken you for dinner you’d told him about your affinity for birds. 

Since you were a child you’d always loved the symbolism of them, of freedom and hope and new beginnings as well as courage and strength. 

He kept that piece of information with him and on your first anniversary he’d gifted you the small silver bird necklace he now held in his palm. 

You’d never once taken it off since he’d given it to you. And somehow it had remained on his floor for some ten months since the last time he’d seen you. 

And for whatever reason that necklace was like a beacon to Spencer. It was a sign that something needed to give, that he couldn’t carry on this way. 

So with the necklace still in hand he marched back to his bedroom and flushed the dilaudid down the toilet. 

Then he called JJ. 

Despite not talking to him in months she was more than happy to help her best friend. She checked him into the most elite rehab facility in the state, for which Rossi was footing the bill for. She stood by his side through the worst of the withdrawals, and he was visited by the members of his old team. 

During the course of getting sober he needed to make amends. One by one he did this, first with JJ and Rossi, then Penelope, Hotch and Emily and finally with Morgan. 

He was two months sober and still residing in the facility when he finally called you. 

He didn’t expect you to come, that’s not why he called. But you came anyway. 

He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how hard it was for you to visit him after a year had passed, after everything he’d put you through. 

Yet somehow you’d put your hurt and your anger aside simply because he’d called you. 

Sitting opposite you in the recreation room, all the things he’d thought he would say to you left his brain. Seeing you now the extent of the pain he’d caused you spread across your features and the only thought left in his head was how much he hated himself for putting you through that. 

He looked down at his hands, the paper beneath his fingers. The twelve steps. The twelve steps of which he was stuck right here on number nine. 

“The eighth step,” he whispered, tearing his eyes off the page to look back at you. “I managed the eighth. We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. The, uh, making of the list was the easy part. It’s the part that comes next that’s really hard.” 

You stayed silent, lips drawn in a tight line and back rigid in your seat. You waited for him to continue. 

“Step nine is the part that requires us to actually reach out to the people we’ve hurt and make amends with them. They tell us that the only exception to this should be in cases where trying to make amends will do more harm than good. Opening up old wounds, causing more pain. 

It’s why it took two months of being here to reach out. I’m worried that in doing so I may have very well done more harm than good. But uh, selfishly, I needed to apologise to you face to face. And I’m sorry if that’s opened all those old wounds for you.” He ran his fingers over the paper by way of keeping himself tethered. 

“I got used to you being selfish.” You replied passive aggressively and Spencer knew he deserved that and a whole lot worse. 

“I don’t have any excuses, Y/N.” He sighed, rolling his lip between his teeth. “The drugs turned me into someone I don’t even recognise. They brought out the worst in me and you had to suffer the brunt of it and for that I am truly sorry.” 

“Is that it?” You shrugged, sliding your chair back. “You wanted to apologise. You said it, I heard it. Are we done here?” 

Spencer watched with a confused frown as you got to your feet, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He picked up the sheet of paper and stood too. 

“Uh, I mean I guess so?” He pulled a face. 

Why would you agree to see him and come all this way for only a few minutes? 

He watched you turn on your heels and start towards the door while he stood scratching at the back of his neck. He stuffed the wrinkled paper into his pocket and as he did so his fingers brushed against the metal chain. 

He freed it from his pocket and held it up so the pendant was in his eye line, the little swallow with its wings spread wide as if in mid flight. 

Freedom. Hope. New beginnings. Courage. Strength. 

Suddenly he took off after you, catching up to you in the gardens as you headed up the path towards the parking lot. 

“We’re not done.” He called after you. “At least I’m not.” 

Your back straightened and your pace slowed until you were at a halt. Cautiously you turned back to face him. 

“What else is there to say, Spencer?” You exhaled loudly. 

He walked closer to you and you noticed the necklace dangling from his fingers. 

“Y/N, I am sorry that I hurt you. It’s something I’ve had to live with every day I’ve been sober. I wish I could take away all the pain I put you through but I can’t. But there’s something I need you to hear.” He gently reached out for your hand, turning it over so your palm was up and he placed the little bird inside of it, coiling the chain into your hand. 

You wrapped your fingers around it once he let you go, holding it tight as if it might come alive and fly away. 

“What? What do you need me to hear?” Your eyes gave way to your sadness, to the pain he’d caused you. 

“It was finding that necklace that gave me the courage I needed to ask for help. It gave me the strength I needed to get sober. It offered me the hope that I could get clean this time, the freedom of knowing I didn’t need drugs to survive. It gave me a new beginning, it opened a door for me to start over.” He felt tears in his eyes and he fought to keep them at bay. 

“Spencer, I’m really pleased you finally got sober, I am. But let’s not pretend it had anything to do with me or that necklace.” You swallowed, holding the chain tighter still. 

“No one’s pretending. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to realise and I can’t change that. But I found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new.” He sniffed, unable to stop reaching for you and cupping the side of your neck. “And the reason is you.” 

Your own tears overflowed, one’s you didn’t realise had worked their way to your eyes. You loosened the grip on the chain slightly, letting your fingers brush over the metal. 

“Spencer,” you mumbled. “I…”

“I know it’s probably too late for all of this and I can’t expect you to just forgive me overnight. But if you think there’s ever a chance you might one day forgive me…it would mean a lot of you would come and visit again.” He let his hand fall to his side again and took a step back. 

You wiped your tears with your free hand and nodded slowly. 

“Can I…I need to think about it, ok? I just need to process all of this.” 

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He nodded. 

You said your goodbyes after that and Spencer slumped back inside, convinced he would never see you again. 

One week later when he arrived in the rec room to meet his visitor, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, smiling softly in his direction. 

And taking in the small silver swallow in its rightful place hanging around your neck, Spencer felt hope. A new beginning unfolding right before his very eyes in the recreation room of his rehab facility. 

As he slid into the chair opposite you and you reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his knuckles, he knew he’d found his reason for being put on this Earth. 

And the reason was you. 

[hxney-lemcn]

Worth It — Alex [Adult World] x gn! reader

summary: reader is sick, so they have to call out. Only for Alex to surprise them and becomes their personal nurse for the day.

tw: mentions of insecurity, a bit of self neglect

a/n: I love his character so much. He's such a sweetheart and I needed to write some tooth rotting fluff. Also, I normally don't care for sick fics, I don't typically get sick so it's hard for me to relate to them, but this just hit me out of nowhere.

wc: 2k

Master List

The moment I woke up I realized there was no way in hell that I was going to work. My head held a dull throb and my body was aching even though I hadn’t moved a muscle. My throat was sore and I couldn’t stop sniffling. I blindly reached over to my night stand. Shuffling some random things I swore I was gonna put away but never got to, I finally found my phone. I let out a small groan as the light blinded me, making my head pound a little harder. 

I sleepily messed with my phone, barely registering what appeared on the screen. Before I could debate whether to text or call, my body already seemed to press the call button for my manager. I sleepily closed my eyes as the dial tone sounded through my ears. I willed myself not to fall asleep, blinking my eyes open. 

“Hello?” The soft tone of Alex’s voice greeted me. 

“Hey,” I rasped. Damn I sounded bad. I coughed, trying to clear my throat a bit.

“Are you okay?” He asked. I can practically see the concerned expression he held on his side of the phone.

“Mhm,” I murmured, fluttering my eyes like that would suddenly wake me up. “Well…I guess not. I’m not feeling too good, don’t think I’ll make it to my shift. Sorry.”

“No worries,” Alex replied. “Shit happens.”

“There aren’t many workers though,” I mumbled, fatigue taking over. “I don’t want you having a double shift.”

His soft laugh sounded through the phone, “Don’t worry, you were paired up with Amy. I’m sure she’ll understand. Not like a lot happens there anyways.”

Halfway between sleep and being awake, I managed a hum. It was silent for a minute, and I felt myself slipping deeper into the dark abyss of sleep, only to be violently pulled out of it by Alex’s voice once more.

“You…you got anyone to help you?” He asked. Even with my sick, fuzzy addled mind, I couldn’t help but melt at how much he seemed to care for me. Yet my fuzzy mind seemed to forget how Alex and Amy totally had the hots for each other.

“I’ll be fine,” I hummed. “Jus’ sleep it off like I normally do.”

“...okay,” He replied quietly, I almost missed it if it weren’t for the fact my head throbbed the longer the call went. “Get well soon.”

“You too,” I replied, confused at why Alex chuckled. A few beats too late, I realized my mistake, “I meant thanks.”

“See ya,” He chuckled lightly before the call hung up. I tried to put my phone back on the nightstand…only to hear it go crashing down to the ground. Without an ounce of care, I shuffled into a more comfortable position closing my eyes, finally falling into an okay sleep.

Having woken up a few hours later, I mindlessly scrolled through my social media. It was hard for me to concentrate on anything. My head felt only slightly better, the throbbing has dulled into an ache. I had only gotten up to go to the bathroom, the thought of making something to eat was too big to conquer in my current state. 

The sound of knocking at my door startled me, causing my body to tense, which in turn caused my body to ache. I let out a sigh, unsure who could possibly be visiting me right now. Then my phone buzzed, Alex’s cute smiling face popping up as his contact photo. 

I blinked a few times before answering, “Hello?”

“Hey!” Alex replied, sounding far too chipper for the day you’re having. “I thought I’d stop by to check up on you. Mind letting me in?”

Even though I wasn’t as tired as I was earlier, it still took me a second to comprehend what he said, “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

Hanging up quickly, I stumbled out of my bed, only to pause because the world started to spin around me. Whether it was the lack of food, low iron, or sickness, I wouldn’t know. Perhaps a combination of the three. After I knew I wouldn’t fall or pass out, I rushed to the front door. Alex smiled at me from the other side, his curly hair slightly ruffled, lifting a plastic bag up.

“Come on in,” I mumbled, holding the door open for him. After he entered, he placed the bag on my living room coffee table as I closed the door behind him. “What’cha got there?” I asked as I took a seat on the couch next to Alex. He made himself at home, but we’d hung out quite a bit outside of work.

“I got some cold medicine, cough drops, y’know, the works,” Alex shrugged. “Wasn’t sure what you had. I also got some candy.”

“Oh, Alex,” I crooned, softening at the information. “You really didn’t have to.” 

At that exact moment, like the world wanted to laugh at me, my stomach grumbled. I pressed a hand on it, glaring as it wouldn’t stop. 

“Did you eat anything?” Alex asked, his smile stayed, but the look in his eyes turned to one of concern.

I paused, hesitating to admit it, “Nooooo?” He gave me a disapproving stare and I rambled my excuses, “I was too tired, and okay…yeah and lazy. But I’m so sore, it hurts to exist.”

“You should’ve told me,” Alex replied with a small pout. Damn he was too cute for his own good. “I would’ve picked something up for you to eat.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning my head to rest on the couch, “I’m not gonna make you waste your money on me.”

“It’s not a waste,” Alex fought back, nudging me lightly. Even so it caused my body to flare up with an ache, a small ‘ow’ escaping me. “Sorry,” He winced. “But you gotta eat to get better. And knowing that you're better would never be a waste.” 

I felt warm, warmer than this current sickness was making me. Alex patted my knee on his way up off the couch. I watched as he made his way to my kitchen. I knew that he wouldn’t find much. I’ve been procrastinating on my much needed grocery run, and now it seems to be biting me in my ass. 

Fatigue creeped up on me once more, and I decided to lay down on the couch. I turned the tv on, switching it to something to try and keep me entertained. My eyelids felt so heavy, but my hunger started to overpower it. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of pans in my kitchen, Alex must’ve found something to make. 

I wasn’t sure how many minutes passed until Alex made his way back into the living room. He placed a steaming hot bowl on the coffee table in front of me, and then started rustling through the bag. 

“Once you get that food in your system I’ll give you a dose of this dayquil,” Alex motioned to the bottle he held. 

I let out a long whine, “Do I have to?” 

He raised his eyebrow and I sighed. Grabbing the bowl, I looked down in surprise, “Chicken noodle soup? I didn’t realize I had any.”

“Lucky find,” Alex smiled, plopping down into the loveseat next to the couch.

“When’s your shift?” I asked before starting to eat the soup. Must I say, it was doing a number on my throat. I took a second to just drink the broth, reveling in the comfort my throat felt. 

“I’m supposed to close,” Alex sighed, kicking his feet up. I let out a sound of disapproval. “I might just tell Amy to close early though.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Why?”

Alex blinked at me, giving me a look like I should already know, “To make sure you don’t rot here.”

“I’m not a kid,” I grumbled, plopping the bowl back on the coffee table.

Alex just shrugged, that boyish grin tugging on his lips, “You just ate for the first time today and it's noon.”

“That's called bad self care,” I pointed at him. 

“Exactly,” He nodded, soft curls bouncing with the motion. “Which means I’ll be here to take care of you.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of a rebuttal, but the thought of Alex taking care of me somewhat short circuited my brain. No ones ever really taken care of me like that. Especially not since I moved out of my parents place. But even when I was an older teen, my mom just kinda expected me to care for myself. Told me where to find the medicine and left it at that. So for him to be so willing to take care of me, and admit to it so casually, it really threw me for a loop. 

“But close is when it gets busy,” I muttered back feebly as Alex poured me some dayquil. 

He looked at me with amused eyes handing the cup over, “I think you’re a bit more important.” 

I felt butterflies flow through my stomach, and I started to drink the vile liquid. Alex seemed to falter, losing a bit of confidence, “I mean…if you don’t want me to I can head out.”

I scrunched my face as I finally finished the dayquil and shook my head. I sat up fully on the couch, looking off to the side, “I just don’t want to waste your time.”

I missed the way Alex frowned, eyebrows furrowing. I didn’t realize he sat next to me until the couch dipped, and we sat thigh to thigh. I looked over to him, unsure if I may have gone too far with my self depreciation. I know it can be a drain on people, but most of the time I don’t even realize I do it.

“Hey, look at me,” Alex murmured. My throat tightened and I turned away, coughing into my elbow. 

“I’m gonna get you sick,” I commented, scooching away slightly. Only for Alex to close the gap again.

“I don’t care,” He dismissed. “You’re important to me. Nothing I do for you would be a waste because it’s for you.”

My heart felt like it was going into overdrive. My eyes danced over his face, meeting his dark brown eyes which held such a sincere burning passion it was like I could feel gentle flames lick at my skin. Looking down, my eyes landed on the small freckle on the end of his nose which I always found incredibly cute. Finally ending at his pink lips. I felt myself flush as I realized I was staring at his lips for a little too long before rushing to meet his eyes once more.

“You keep saying stuff like that and I might just fall for you,” I muttered, my brain feeling fuzzy once more. A mix of love sickness and regular sickness. 

Alex hummed, a bashful smile forming on his face, “I’m just sayin’ the truth. But if that's the outcome I won’t complain.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore just how close we were to each other, “You’re gonna get my hopes up that I have a chance.” I said it before I could stop myself. I’ve never been so forward before. Stupid sickness, it was making it hard for me to think, to keep a filter. Stuff I typically keep to myself spilling out through insecure words. 

“With you on my mind 24/7, I think you’ve got the biggest chance,” Alex replied boldly, causing my neck to snap to him. I stared at him in shock, mouth slightly open, unsure how to reply. “N-not in a creepy way though.”

“I-is this a confession?” I asked, letting out a small cough. 

“...only if it doesn’t ruin things between us,” He replied hesitantly, his vulnerability clearly shown. 

I smiled bashfully, not believing that this was actually happening. I looked down at my hands as I fidgeted with them, “Well, it just so happens that I think about you 24/7 too. Not in a weird way.”

Alex let out a soft laugh, our eyes meeting in joy. Reaching over, he grabbed one of my hands with his, and I couldn’t help but notice how his hand seemed to engulf mine. Suddenly, he kissed my cheek.

“You’re seriously gonna get yourself sick,” I grumbled, trying to mask how much he really affected me. 

“You’re worth it.”

[nicofan57]

i wanted to talk about this clip so here’s my thoughts on it and the entire situation from yesterday (rest is under the cut)

(transcript:

minute: oh but why wemmbu, why, we- clown you and i were against him before, why-

clown: i didn’t like it either, okay, let me- you know why-

minute: ill tell you better- ill tell you better than anyone he’s just gonna use you and spit you out whenever it’s convenient. or whenever you’re no longer convenient for him. i know it better than anyone!

clown: i think we can handle wemmbu.

minute: he can't die!

clown: oh but he could drop- (?)

minute: he's just gonna sit tens of thousands of blocks out and wait for everyone to kill each other until he's the last one. i know this better than anyone! why didn't you talk to me?)

so first let’s dissect this clip. minute saying "i know this better than anyone" brings me back to kings s1 . they worked together to take down the other team that had the mythics and when wemmbu finally got a hold of the lifestealer (i can’t remember the exact details.. time for a rewatch) he threw minute out, saying there could only be one king. which sucks more when you think about at the start of the server, minute was open to teaming with wemmbu because he genuinely thought they were friends like he was not seeing that coming. someone warned him wemmbu is not trustworthy and he went “wemmbus my boy he wouldnt do that" (or something along those lines). and it’s like. well he did end up doing that. and minute realized he was being used all along.

fast forward to foundation when wemmbu literally said something along the lines of (again, sorry this might not be accurate) he’d team with minute because

- minute is powerful

- he has gear sets

- he would give him stuff

and most of all because he’s too kind for his own good. he wants peace even with his enemies, which we all know from the current arc right now. and wemmbu knows that all too well he knows he wouldnt refuse siding with him even considering their history on kings. anyway we all know how the abyss arc turned out for them with the orbital

so here is this clip i posted a while ago (linked here, because i cant put more than one video in a post apparently) where minute talks about how wemmbu's betrayed him a million times and how he says it hurts but he moves past it (this guy....) well clearly he’s not going to move past it now. because behind his back wemmbu has been working with zam, the person trying to break him mentally, and wemmbu’s stolen his position of power and is going to undo everything he’s worked towards. and the worst part about it is that he even convinced minutes teammates from day one to vote for him.

it’s pretty clear that wemmbu knows minute more and is able to get to him better than zam, he knows how to get into his head, he knows what actually fucks minute up, and no offense to zam because zam did end up winning… he achieved his goal by employing wemmbu! but i noticed minute isnt worried about zam that much anymore, or any of the players at all. it’s wemmbu because he knows what wemmbu can do and he knows how fucked up the server is going to be under his presidency. worst of all he knows what’s going to happen to his friends, he’s been in their shoes before, he knows they’re going to be left for dead when all is said and done, and even though they betrayed him and voted for wemmbu he still wants to save them because he knows it all too well (i think he also did say this). he still has some good left in him, even after the betrayal.

though the players are using wemmbu's presidency term to get what they want, it’s always going to end up being minute against wemmbu, it’s a cycle that ive noticed keeps repeating lately . thank you all forcoming to my ted talk

(p.s. i copied and pasted this from my twitter thread sorry if theres any weird formatting. or typos. or bad english pleabse be nice to me smiles)

[arviyya]

I don't have any sins of my own, but I need to see a ship use the Imperius spell during sex 😔 Please?

It's criminal how long it took me to get to this (I've been drowning at work 😭) I also got carried away so it took me extra long.

Anywayyyyy

I gotta say, I love playing with the unforgivables during sex. In my long fic Into the Abyss, we are about to get to Sirius/Barty fucking around with using the unforgivables and experimenting, and we can only imagine where that's headed.

So, here's some rosekiller smut. (tws: cnc, inappropriate use of unforgivables, implied homophobia)

"Ev," Barty clutches tighter to the collar of Evan's shirt. "Please."

Evan sighs, hardly able to resist those green eyes. He leans closer so their lips are barely touching, hot breath mingling between them.

"Fine. But only because you asked nicely."

Evan pushes Barty away from him, pressing him to the bed with one hand on his chest. They're still fully clothed - but that was on request from Barty, a request that everything, everything, happen as a result of the spell.

The sound of a deep sigh escapes Barty's lips as Evan raises his wand. Barty has always liked the feeling of the Imperius curse. After his father used it to try and make him straight he struggled with a sense of self for a long time. That is, until Evan and him were discussing their upbringing late one evening, and Barty finally told him the truth of how his father treated him.

It wasn't deep into the talk that it occurred to both of them that they should try the curses their family used on them. Evan, the Cruciatus Curse, and Barty, the Imperius Curse. They never did talk about why they thought it would help, and they never talked about why it ended up working. It just did.

If Evan had to guess, he would say that through these curses they found the power that had been stolen from them. But that's just a guess.

Something about it feels so good. It's like the magic that courses through their veins is a sweet molasses bringing satisfaction to a desire they stopped denying.

But that's only when they're casting.

Being the subject of the curse, well... the reason behind their desire for that is obvious. For Barty - it takes away the thoughts that burden him even when he's having sex. For Evan - it brings forth the senses he is constantly smothering from years of being told to hide the pain.

Barty was never allowed the autonomy to let go of his thoughts, and Evan was never allowed the autonomy of leaning into the pain. But with each other, they are.

"Are you sure?"

"You know what I like."

"if you say so. Imperio."

Evan holds the spell, Barty's mind suddenly empty, his body pliant. Pleasure sits clear in his iris', an obvious sign that despite the emptiness, he's surely enjoying himself.

Take it off. Evan thinks.

Barty doesn't hesitate, and before he can lose it all quickly, Evan adds,

slowly.

Barty's fingers curl around the bottom edge of his shirt, and Evan watches as he carefully peels it upwards, revealing his toned and slender abdomen, his pink and risen nipples, his defined collarbone. Evan already wants to put his mouth on every inch, tasting every bit of Barty.

He isn't usually so sexually driven, Evan. With most people he couldn't care less about these details, his body never usually responding. But with Barty...

It just feels different. In fact, with Barty, Evan feels irreparable longing. He's positively insatiable.

Now the pants. Slowly.

Evan can feel the anticipation in Barty's chest, the way his body vibrates with need as he's forced to take it all much slower than he usually does. They've practiced the spell enough to where Evan has learned to bring Barty the emptiness in his head that he desires, without taking the feelings from his chest. He feels it all, and Evan can feel it too. All of Barty's love for him, his desire, every touch to his skin, and eventually his orgasm. Evan will feel it all through him, and it adds to his own intensity, his own need.

Barty slowly pulls his pants down, kicking them away.

Next is his boxers.

Evan tells him through his thoughts to remove those as slow as he can. Barty obeys. his fingers carefully pushing them down his body, his cock already full, pressure obvious against the fabric.

As soon as the fabric moves past his cock, it releases and immediately presses against his abdomen, hard and almost painfully aching.

He kicks his boxers to the side and Evan stares down at him, naked and ready while Evan himself is still fully clothed. There's something about the vulnerability that Barty seems to like.

Evan leans down and glides his fingertips over Barty's cheek, moving them down his neck and then his abdomen, stopping just short of his cock. It twitches, and Barty's eyes darken but otherwise he doesn't react. Evan hasn't told him he's allowed to.

He leans down, Barty like his own personal doll, lying there for the taking, and kisses his neck. He sucks without mercy, suddenly ravenous upon his pale skin. And still, Barty doesn't move a single inch.

Evan isn't ready for him to move yet.

But he is ready for,

you can make noises, my love.

It's barely a second before moans and deep, uneven breaths are spilling from Barty's lips. Evan is sure that he'd be squirming too if he could, but he lays still, Evan's lips finding Barty's so he can taste every sound. Their kiss deepens, Evan's tongue seeking the back of his throat. He wants him so bad, but the point of this is to take it slow, and he has to remind himself of that.

Evan breaks from the kiss and moves down his body, lips hovering over his leaking and twitching cock that is practically begging for relief.

Evan will give him some relief. But true relief won't come for a while.

He breathes on it first, teasing by blowing on it from tip, to his balls, and even his hole that already looks ready for him.

Finally, Evan takes the tip into his mouth and runs his tongue the whole length before swallowing it whole. Barty gets louder, and louder, compensating his inability to move with noises and Evan loves it. Like music to his ears.

The taste of Barty runs over his tongue and Evan's eyes roll just from the sensation alone, his own cock starting to fill. A part of him wants to jump straight to the finale but no. He has more patience than that.

Spread your legs.

Barty doesn't hesitate, doing what Evan asks him to do. Evan, taking the opportunity moves down from his cock, taking a moment to suck each ball as he goes before reaching his hole. It's puckering, asking for attention and Evan is there to give it.

He gently rolls his tongue around the outside, and Barty let's out a choked sigh that tells Evan he wants more, more, more.

"Okay, love, I hear you."

Evan pushes his tongue inside before licking over the top of it again. Every noise Barty makes sounds garbled with the desire to speak but that's not what Evan told him he could do, is it?

After a few minutes of this, Evan can feel his own cock pressing against the fabric of his clothing, aching for friction. Sometimes it's difficult to control himself, difficult to resist the urges because it only happens with Barty.

When he pulls his mouth away, he runs a single finger over his hole, pushing in just to a single knuckle. He watches as Barty's eyes widen, his brows pinching in pleasure as Evan crooks his finger just enough to hit the spot that always makes Barty preen. Right now, he can't. So it's even more satisfying to hear the noises spill from him.

"Like that, baby?" Evan practically growls, his voice low and husky.

Barty can't answer, which makes it even better.

"The most perfect little slut there ever was," Evan whispers, "So perfect, just for me. You like being used, don't you?"

Again he can't answer, and Evan simply smirks at him.

Evan stands up, gazing down at him with a tilted head, admiring him like a canvas. Him and his spread legs, fluttering hole, and dripping cock.

"Get on your knees."

Barty slides off the bed and obeys as Evan slides his own pants down leaving him bare. His rock hard cock right in Barty's face.

"Suck."

Barty immediately takes him in hand and swallows him down without finesse. Evan gasps, eyes rolling back as he focuses on the sensations. It sends shivers down his body in ripples, and his whole body, his very skin vibrates with trembles at the pleasure.

Tears slide down Barty's face as he gags on Evan's cock which is shoved down his throat. Evan gazes down at him, a look of utter devotion on his face. He threads his fingers in Barty's messy dark hair and grips tight, holding him in place while Evan fucks his throat.

Pleasure builds in his abdomen so he pulls out.

"Stop."

Barty does, and stares up at him, drool on his chin, tears running down his cheeks.

"On the bed, love. Spread your legs."

Barty obeys, a look of desperation in his eyes.

"You're so ready for me, aren't you, baby?"

Barty doesn't answer, but Evan knows by the way his chest fills with affection that it's a yes.

Evan brings his wand to Barty's hole and whispers the incantation to prep him. He whines, and Evan's brows knit at the sound. As much as Evan tries to keep his composure, Barty really has the power to rip him apart at the seams.

Evan guides himself into Barty, slowly but surely, whines and moans filling the air between them. As soon as Evan bottoms out they both gasp, and suddenly Evan is filled with an insatiable desire. He grips Barty at the hips, his fingers pressing purple bruises into his skin and pulls him even closer so he can lean over him, Evan's lips finding their way from his neck to his collar bone sucking bruises as he goes.

Meanwhile, he slides himself in and out, every thrust sending pleasure through his body and to his fingertips and toes. He can feel Barty's pleasure too, holding the spell on him wandlessly, his every rush of affection and love almost tangible.

There are several moments where they exist in a tumultuous storm of intensity, sweat on both their bodies, tears in Barty's eyes, Evan's brows pressed together, his tongue rolling over one of Barty's nipples as he thumbs the other. His other hand tugs as Barty's hair which elicits a rather vulgar whine from him. He's still so pliant beneath him, moving wherever Evan moves him like a doll ready to be toyed with.

At some point Evan instructs him to pleasure himself, to stroke his own cock and he does, eyes rolling back. Evan also instructs him not to come until he tells him to which brings even more ridiculously hot whines into the air.

Evan moves up to his mouth to taste them, dropping his own hand down to Barty's cock and whispering an order for him to stop so Evan can take over.

"You want to come don't you?" Evan asks in a whisper as he presses his thumb to Barty's tip, using the cum to slide up and down his cock. "You can answer, love."

"Yes, please, Evan, fuck, please-I'll be so good, please let me-" his voice breaks off into another moan. Sweat drips down his forehead and chest, and Evan knows his spell may not even be strong enough to stop him.

So Evan stops.

He stops thrusting, stops moving his hand, stops kissing.

A look of panic flashes in Barty's eyes, and Evan can practically hear him begging already.

He wraps his arms around Barty and picks him up, still inside him and walks them over to the nearest wall where he pushes Barty against it. He doesn't move yet, but kisses him instead, attempting to stave off his own intense need to come.

It doesn't help much, but it does help enough, his cock still twitching inside him.

"I love you so much, Evan whispers against Barty's lips and Barty simply sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans limp against the wall. Evan has his arms wrapped around him, holding him so tenderly, and he can tell Barty loves it by the flutters of his heart.

"Almost there, baby," Evan whispers and whines, "You can come soon, almost there."

Evan grabs one of Barty's wrists and presses it against the wall, holding it back as if Barty might resist even though he can't. Evan doesn't know why, but he loves having this power over Barty. He loves moving him and manipulating his body to his hearts content, he loves being in his head. He thinks it's the lack of autonomy he had as a kid, but he doesn't put too much thought to it.

Before he knows it, he moving in and out of Barty again, increasing his speed and Barty looks utterly debauched. His cheeks that pretty red color they get when he has lost all witts about him, every bit of him at Evan's mercy. Evan can tell that Barty is breaking through the spell, through no effort or fault, by the way his thighs are trembling, and his toes are curling.

Evan's mouth breaks into a grin as he goes in to kiss Barty again, pleased to see that the intensity of his pleasure is enough to push through the curse.

With more urgency, Evan strokes Barty's cock again in time with each thrust, knowing that he's hitting all of his sweet spots. With his mouth over Barty's nipple, he whispers, "Okay, baby. You can come, but don't move otherwise."

He loves watching Barty struggle against the curse as he comes. He loves watching his arms twitch, his whole body vibrate, as the desire to writhe under the sensory overload takes him over.

His toes curl and his head pushes back against the wall as he spills over Evan's hand, his arms hanging limp other than twitching at his side, clenching around his cock.

That is all Evan needs before he too is coming into Barty. Evan loses all sense of time as his own orgasm drags out, Barty still riding after shocks. Evan buries his face in Barty's neck, inhaling his scent before digging his teeth into skin as he breathes heavily through it all.

Pleasure sinks in around them intermingling with the love in their chests. It's momentous, just as it always is. Casual has never been something they understand. But that's okay, Evan hates casual anyway. Everything is always intense with him.

Somewhere in the midst of his own orgasm, the curse had wore off. Barty is now kissing his collarbone, sucking, biting, his hands drawing red lines down Evan's back under his shirt which he never took off. Whispers fill Evan's ear between the kisses.

Whispers of love.

Carefully, still lightheaded and completely dismantled, Evan carries Barty over to the bed and they fall into it together as a tangled of limbs. At some point one of their waves their wand to clean the mess and kill the lights.

All Evan knows before he falls asleep is the sound of heavy breaths slowing, the feel of kisses on his face, the sensation of warmth around his spent cock. Still inside Barty, both comfortable and happy with it there.

Both satisfied and so deeply in love.

Welp that was fun. Didn't expect so many kinks to make an appearance but that's that. Enjoy :]

[kkumawrites]

Pang! Part Fourteen: heart to heart previous | next

Word Count: 669 CW: talks about mental illness/depression

The sky is surprisingly clear at this late hour, stars sparkling up above you and it reminds you of the ocean - the universe vast and deep, not unlike the abyss below the sea that remains unexplored, one of the few reasons you found yourself drawn to the ocean blues. You find your mind wandering to nowhere in particular when Chan slides up next to you, neither of you saying a word. It’s rather nice, a comforting silence falling between the two of you as you gaze up at the neverending sight of stars. 

It’s uncertain to you how long you’ve been sitting there like that but the slight breeze that comes every now and then causes you to curl up further into your hoodie in a search for some warmth. Still, you don’t complain or say anything, instead letting him decide when he’s ready to say something. 

Chan’s not dumb and he knows you’re giving him time, the space to gather the courage to let him know what’s on his mind, it’s moments like this where he really appreciates you - willing to sit with him on a nippy spring night in pure silence. Still, he doesn’t want to keep you out too late, so he speaks up. “I’m jealous of you,” Chan starts out and his words make you turn to him so fast you worry you might have given yourself whiplash from the sheer force. “I just think it’s admirable? How happy-go-lucky you can be even during stressful times. Like I don’t think I’ve ever seen you upset and I just wish I could be happy? I feel like I should be happy? But I feel like I’m not,” 

You’re staring at him in disbelief, blinking as your mind rattles in your brain and before you can stop yourself you’re laughing. Just a small giggle but it still has Chan looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m not laughing at you! I swear! I just- It’s kinda funny to me? Is all,” This time he’s the one blinking over at you in confusion. “Ok sorry. Can I be honest?” He nods. “It’s all fake,” You pause. “Ok wait, that sounds bad, let me rephrase,” You ramble just slightly, suddenly feeling nervous as you wring your fingers together. “I- struggle a lot with depression. For a long time I felt like I was alone and isolated,  so when I started college here it was a chance to reinvent myself but I still struggled with making friends. I met Soonyoung during that big old club day when he tried to recruit me to the dance team, even though I have two left feet. Though I didn’t join the dance team, him and Sua pretty much adopted me that day. It’s just easier…to pretend to be ok and happy, even when i’m not. Especially when i’m not. But what I’m trying to say is everyone’s dealing with something, and some people hide it better. You’re not alone Chan and you never will be when you have such wonderful friends surrounding you. 

He’s silent as he takes in your words, the two of them staring at each other as a more awkward silence fills the spaces in between you. 

“Can I hug you?”

Well it’s certainly not what you were expecting him to say, and you’re sure he realizes just what you’re thinking as you look at him with wide eyes. 

“Sorry- I’m just. Not good with words like you are so,” You let out a small laugh before nodding your head, opening up your arms. And when Chan slides into your embrace, it feels like two puzzle pieces clicking together. You can’t explain it, it just feels. . .right and you hate that you feel this way. 

So you do what you do best, pushing down your feelings and squeezing the male softly, no more words need to be said between the two of you as you embrace under the night sky. Just two friends.

[jade-len]

no but seriously though, let's say that you've never read svsss and proceeded to transmigrate into pidw as either sqq or one of bunhe's random npc shixiong/shijie. is there anything you guys would've done different from sy?

personally, if i knew that bunhe was going to literally become the embodiment of toxic masculinity, a dictator who collects women as if they were some coins, and a man who's overall just the product of the abuse cycle... i would try my damn hardest to prevent any of that lol.

but, for me, i would not promote a harem or bingge's fucked way of thinking. even if i just transmigrated as some other disciple, there would be absolutely no way i would let bunhe turn into bingge (also because.. why would i let the entire sect continue to abuse him). and, probably not even really bingmei as well? i don't know, i would obviously still protect and befriend him, but i think i'd be much more stricter about teaching bingbing morals, good ethics, mental health, all that jazz.

like, we live in a time where we actually know better about that stuff! might as well pass down our 20th century knowledge, y'know? i know sqq loves binghe the way he is, but if i read pidw i would most definitely not like bingge's character due to airplane's wack writing

(cut under is just me rambling lol)

but if i were to transmigrate as sqq... honestly, it would go two ways for me. genuinely, i think (after the ooc function) i'd just run away from the sect and take on a completely new appearance using magic airplane plant bullshit, find binghe (because i know damn well the abuse wouldn't just stop there.. also because the system will probably still demand for me to be some sort of mentor), then be like that one cool teacher or older brother figure? i'd definitely be more of that instead of a proper shizun. idk, i'd just treat binghe as if he were my little brother

or, since binghe is still bunhe and thus hasn't darkened at all, i would maybe pull him to the side and say that i'm actually not his shizun. probably claim that the real sqq hated teaching (which was why he abused binghe) and kids, so he made a doppelgänger (me) to replace him as he goes to buttfuck anywhere else from here. since i would know of luo binghe's loyalty at least from never having read svsss, i'd tell him to respect sqq's wishes

this is so that binghe would at least know that i'm not shen qingqiu. because remember, in this alternate timeline i only know pidw instead and don't know if binghe would forgive sqq for all the abuse he suffered, so don't blame me for going that route! again, i know that the system would still probably require me to be his mentor for the abyss arc, so i'd have to still stay as bingbing pretty much gets an entirely new person as his shizun. but hey, would he complain? i don't abuse kids and thus won't ever hurt him. plus, i don't think i'd be able to constantly put on a mask and pretend to be sqq, the least i could do is have luo binghe know the "truth"?

look i know that that probably breaks the system's rules, BUT remember, you can negotiate with the system. "well, i'm not revealing my identity as a transmigrator or the system? i'm technically still 'shen qingqiu', im supposed to be a doppelgänger, a copy! remember? so i'm technically him." also, i don't remember any rules about running away and such for the new identity plan, just that binghe still needs a mentor to push him off. i feel like with enough negotiation, i would be able to do this (also yes i know that i wouldn't know about the system not being strict, but i feel like i would figure it out pretty quickly, considering that i bitch a bit and will find a way to back up my argument if I'm really insistent)

speaking about the endless abyss!! yeah no i don't think i would be able to push him off. i think i'd make it abundantly clear that i don't want to, but i'm cursed to "fulfill" a prophecy or something.. either through a bunch of metaphors and stories. or, since system never said i had to full on betray him, just that he needed to be in there, i'd kinda just. tell him to jump and that there was nothing else i could teach him or something. i'll be waiting, bingbing!

and finally: what about if binghe fell in love? ...honestly don't know what i'd do with that. i feel like i'd be more gege material if anything since i'm not super different in age with bingbing, so i'd most likely see him as a friend or younger brother instead of a disciple (and i'd definitely treat him like one too. sorry, i just don't think i'd be able to take my job as a teacher or anything seriously, nonetheless actually teach teach. mentor-ish or bro figure, yeah i could do that. responsible teacher? okay, now you're asking for too much). so maybe? maybe not? i don't even know if i meet binghe's standards (which, admittedly, is kinda low but you get my point). i'd probably wanna kiss liu qingge though lol

[strawberrycrushes]

Memories Of a Distant Time

A/N: Jean before she became the acting grandmaster should get written about more. That’s actually true for most characters and their pre-game appearance lives.

Hearty laughter fills the air and the entire tavern seems enthralled by Varka’s story, his natural charisma pulling everyone in.

You bring your drink to your lips as you listen in, occasionally interrupting to correct him on a few details. Spicing up the story regarding the expedition was a good way to hold in the crowd’s attention, you had to agree, but that being said you didn’t want it to be just plain incorrect either, and Varka’s tendency to do exactly that was increasing with every drink he had.

You shake your head. “That’s not what happened at all. Marianne sprained her ankle well before the abyss order attack. That’s why she wasn’t even there actually.” You corrected him again with a pointed look.

“No, no. I’m quite sure she was, that’s why we went back after all. To go get her?” Varka waved you off. You rolled your eyes “You do realise that makes you sound like a horrible boss for leaving her there in the first place, right? Whatever, at least it’s better than letting them know that the ACTUAL reason we went back was just because you left your mission report behind and didn’t want to rewrite it.” you smirked at him.

The crowd laughed as the both of you bickered over the details.

“Come on now Captain, don’t be such a bore. You’re making it sound like any other expedition.”

“It WAS just like any other expedition.” You pointed out, “At least it was supposed to be until the Abyss decided to pop in and say hi. Archons above that was a headache. You know what? At this point just let me tell the story why don’t you? I’m sure I could put a better spin on it, and on your incompetence, than you could.”

Varka put his hand over his heart and sighed over-dramatically “You truly wound me, Captain but you should cut me some slack. I mean, you said it yourself didn’t you? The abyss order attack was incredibly unexpected. I thought I handled it pretty well for how little experience we have in dealing with them.” Varka took another sip from his glass, “And besides Captain, your own feats of strength were quite flattering in my story. So that does beg the question I suppose… Are you only saying this because of a false sense of modesty, a heroic desire for a genuine re-telling—or just the need to ruin my story?”

“Well...if you actually have to wonder that then maybe you’re not as bright as you make yourself out to be.” You laughed along with the tavern as Varka prepared to bite back with a jab of his own. It was clear to anyone with two working eyes that the two of you got along really well.

Painfully so, Jean thought.

She sighed sulking off to some desolate corner of the tavern, feeling her stomach twist into ugly knots as familiar feelings of jealousy and defeat crept up inside her. Wolvendom was supposed to be her chance. She was supposed to walk up to you and start a conversation—You know, like any normal person would—Unfortunately for Jean, she found it very difficult to operate as normal where you were involved resulting in her barely even getting a sentence in let alone an actual conversation. She felt like an idiot, especially since you did try. You talked to her, and all Jean could give you was either a stiff nod or an awkward attempt at an answer. Neither of which made for good conversation starters as it turned out.

She buried her face into her hands and groaned. She probably looked like an idiot to you too. “Way to make a first impression Jean.” She grumbled to herself as she looked back up to see you and Varka still joking along with each other. Maybe it was the alcohol still in her system but she felt pathetic. Years of pining after you to no avail and every fault of her own, she felt like the love stories of her novels, no, the love stories anyone her age got to enjoy, were simply not meant for her. Like her mother was right.

“My my, doesn’t somebody look like poster child of loneliness. Let me guess, you couldn’t talk to your crush the entire expedition and now you’re feeling depressed. Am I correct?” She heard a suave voice snicker behind her and she didn’t need to look back to see who it was.

“Go away Kaeya,” she grumbled, “let me be depressed in peace.”

“As much as I’d love to do that as your friend, and the only person between us that actually knows how to communicate, I thought I should act on my duty to help you, say….basically get laid.” Kaeya gave her a mischievous grin and Jean looked at him cautiously. “Kaeya. What did you do?” She asked him, extremely concerned for her safety.

“Don’t even worry about it. Hey, here’s an idea, why don’t you go out and take a walk, hm? I’m sure some fresh air would make for the perfect backdrop to your miseries.” Kaeya dismissively said as he dragged Jean by her hand towards the balcony, not even giving her a chance to reply.

“H-hey wait a minute, what did you-!”

Slam

Kaeya shut the balcony door, locking it. “Kaeya? Kaeya!” She struggled futilely with the door handle “Open the damn door Kaeya or I swear to Barbatoes I’m telling Master Crepus about this.” Her threats were met with laughter. Not laughter from behind the door, no, but from-

She turned around with a flushed face to see you giggling into your hand. “C-captain?”

“Sorry sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your little…tangent?” You tease and if it was possible, Jean turned a shade redder.

“W-well. That was” Damn it Kaeya really?

“Miss Jean. Please, calm down. Kaeya told me you wanted to talk?”

DAMN IT KAEYA REALLY?

Jean gnawed at her lips. She was going to have to kill Kaeya later but first she needed to diffuse the situation at hand. There was no way she was anywhere NEAR prepared for a situation like this. "That.." She subtly gulped, "Well...you know how he can be like, I'm sure he just thought it was an amusing prank. Or something." She mumbled looking down at her feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"Is that so?"

She nodded, "I have nothing I wish to say to you Captain. I assure you."

For some reason, a quiet descended on you two and Jean became nervous. Did you not believe her? Or maybe you did and are just annoyed that you’re locked out here with her for no reason now. Or-

"Jean?” You spoke out, sounding strangely downcast.

Jean looked up. You were leaning against the railing now, looking…dejected?

“Yes Captain?”

You open your mouth, close it again awkwardly, then try again. “Do you hate me?”

Jean's eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

You look back at her. "Every time I try to talk to you, you avoid me. If try to make conversation, you’ll give me standoffish looks or ‘assure me’ that you have 'nothing you wish to say to me'.”

You frown and Jean winces. Did she really sound like that? Wait-HAS SHE BEEN SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT THE ENTIRE TIME?

“Yes.” You deadpan.

“Ah, did I-?”

“Yes you did say that out loud.” You give a slight smile and some humour returns to your voice. Something Jean is very thankful for.

“Jean.” You say, “I’m going to be honest, I really admire you. You’re such a hardworking person, more so than anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re honest too, and kind. You care so much for the people around you that you forget to care for yourself alongside. When I see you, it gives me the motivation to work hard too.” You pump your fist, seeming uncharacteristically shy. “I guess you could say that I’m where I am now because of you.”

Jean’s mouth gapes and you laugh. “Too much? It’s true though, I’m not sure you remember but we met once when we were kids? I was training—nothing formal, just by myself—you saw me and came over, said I was holding my stance incorrectly. You taught me that day, for no other reason but the fact that I looked like I needed help. I thought it was absurd, but I’ve admired you since then.” You smile.

"I-" She tries to open her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How was she even supposed to reply to that!? She was sure her face was on fire with how hot it felt. Still, she had to try. She messed things up before, but that didn’t mean she could set things right. You were trying. She’d try too.

“I…admire you a lot too.” You looked at her with a mix of surprise and curiosity on your face. Jean gulped. “You’re someone I look up to a lot, and respect. You became a captain at such a young age, without any noble family backing you up, but it also made me think that perhaps you wouldn’t like me because I was already given an advantage at birth when you had to work so hard for it, if that makes sense?”

You frown. “Why would I hate you for something you couldn’t control? And you make it sound like you didn’t more than earn your place amongst the Knights. In fact, I honestly think you should be ranked higher, like a Captain, or maybe even a Grandmaster?”

“You’re flattering me.” Jean blushed, “There’s no way I deserve a title of such high esteem.”

“You do.” You say simply. “You’re just being humble.”

“I’m not.” Jean finds herself laughing. “I mean, I can barely even hold a conversation on your level.”

You raise your brow. “On my level?”

“Yes! Whenever you talk, the whole room becomes captivated. They laugh along with your jokes and hang on to every word you say.”

“You’re exaggerating.” It was your turn to blush.

“I’m not.” Jean smiles. “You’re just being humble.”

You snort. “Touché. But I’m being serious, I’m better a Knight than a conversationalist. I don’t think my personality is quite as suited for that.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug. “I just bounce off Varka, he brings most of the charm.”

“I think you’re charming.”

You blink. “What?”

“You are.” Jean says firmly. “At least for me. Everything you say manages to bring a smile to my face. I like hearing you talk. So I think you’re quite charming.” She states simply.

You give her a strange look, and she grows nervous under your stare. Had she said something wrong again?

You smile. “You’re an interesting one Jean.” You kiss her on the cheek and Jean practically short-circuits, caught completely off guard. “I should go make sure Varka didn’t do anything too stupid while I was gone. See you later?.” You ask, Jean, who had completely short-circuited by the point, could only nod in response. “Good. I’ll be looking forward to it.” You chuckle and walk away, managing to open the door with no apparent difficulty.

Oh right. She was going to have to thank Kaeya later…

[bluecottenswab]

Wriothesly x F!y/n☁️

This is a fluff one shot

I had to write this during my 8 hour car ride back home🥹🥹

__________________________________

YOUR POV

As I strolled mindlessly along the streets, matching silver pendants with wings and a red ruby in the middle caught my attention.

As I walked towards the shop with the pendant I mumbled to myself.

"What a beauty, I wonder if he would enjoy this?Excuse me Miss but how much is this pendant?"

"30,000 mora."

The shop owner replied. With how expensive it was I had to think if it was worth it or not.

'Geez, so expensive! But if it's for him, it's fine."

" I will take it"

I responded with. While the shop owner packed the pendants in a bag, I wondered to myself when I should head to Fortress. 

' I hope nothing intrudes on our anniversary unlike last year.' As I sighed I took the bag and headed to the Fortress of Meropide.

*Outside of the Fortress of Meropide*

Before I even step into the fortress a guard appears at my side in an instant and bows, replying with a greeting.

"Ah Miss F!y/n it's nice to see you again, oh let me take your bags. Come now let's not keep the Duke waiting."

As I get ushered down the stairs from the outside world and into Wriothesleys office, I'm met with a trail of rose petals leading up the stairs to his office.

"Miss F!y/n, the Duke is just up the stairs."

And as the guard finishes their sentence and hands you your bag, you rush up the stairs to see your boyfriend looking very at pleased of the sight  of you arriving. 

"Ah dear, how's your day been?"

" It's been going wonderful, what about you? Has the fortress been doing well?"

"I'm good and the fortress has been doing better then ever. But that's not what I want to talk about....for our 5th anniversary I was wondering if you would want to go out into Foggy Forest to have a picnic?"

As I was thinking of a response. I could see how nervous Wriothesley looked, from his sweaty hands, to his uneasy look. ' Man he gets way to nervous about us' I chuckled

" Sure, I would love too. But wasn't there a recent incident with the Abyss Mages hanging around there?"

"And that's why you got a strong boyfriend, to save you. But don't worry I've sent guards to clear the area."

As he reassured me that we will be okay, he got up from his desk and kissed my lips. It was short, but full of love and warmth. 

"Well my dear, I don't want to keep you waiting, so lets heard to the picnic I made just for you. Oh and what's in the bag?"

" you will have find out later"

I chuckled as we walked down the stairs.

*At Foggy Forest

As we came closer to the picnic spot I could hear Wriothesley chuckling at how excited I am. As we got to the spot I could see luxurious foods and drinks. There was macarons, garlic bread, onion soup, and so much more! ( you can imagine what other foods there are. Also f/f = favorite food and f/d is favorite dessert) 

" So do you like it, I tried to get the best dishes. Even got some favorites of  Monsieur Neuvillette. Even though he was trying to convince me of giving you water from around Tayvat." 

Wriothesley chuckled at the last sentence and gave me some macarons. As we eat I decided that it was the perfect time to get Wriothesley the pendent. When I got the bag I spoke soft enough for Wriothesley to hear me.

" So you know that bag I had before? Well I want you to have this, I got two so we could match. If you don't like it I could return it."

I spoke while lifting the two pendant from out the bag. Wriothesley eyes glowed at the sight of a present. 

" Dear I love this, but why would you think I wouldn't want it? But if you want, can you put it on my neck please?"

I laughed and put one of the pendants around his neck and clasped the clip. Before I could move away I felt Wriothesley pull me onto his lap and gently kissed my lips passionately. As I pulled away and got off of his lap, Wriothesley spoke.

" If we are on part where we give gifts then I'll go."

As he stood slightly to get up he went on one knee and said the following.

" Miss Y/n L/n for the five years we've been together and to be honest even before then, I've always loved you and I still do but so much more. Would you be willing to marry me?"

As I sat there in shock I could feel tears running down my face to my chin.  I got up and jumped on him saying over and over.

" Yes! I will marry you!"

As he put on the ring I could feel his own tears run down his face as we kissed. If only that moment last forever. But something always had to happen, out of the corner of my eye I saw a guard run up to us in a hurry.

" Duke, there has been an inmate that escaped the fortress! We nee-...oh sorry to interrupt."

The guard just stood there in shock. I covered my face I could feel my flushed face. 

"Dear why don't we head to the fortress to get rid of the person who made our time go short?"

Wriothesley said as he scooped me up bridal style. Let's just say the inmate that escaped came back with a couple broken limbs. 

[forgwater]

Off the Deep End and into the Abyss

Idea: Since it’s mermay, I thought I’d write something for our favorite shady sea creatures from NRC! It would seem that when the octatrio make an appearance in their merfolk form it’s usually tied in with pirates or the little mermaid and I want to try something a little bit different and write them as the mafia merfolk they were always meant to be! Hopefully I manage to translate my idea properly!

This is more or less the prologue. This piece sets the scene.

I might make this a proper AU and add the other dorms too. So, feel free to inquire!

Summary: You take a job with one of the local gangs to transport some goods for them. The madol they were offering for the finished job was an offer too good to refuse. What makes this even better is that you’ve done this before! worked with these people before, rowed your boat this rout before. It was gonna be so easy! It was supposed to be easy! It was supposed to be uneventful! Now you’re in deeper trouble than you were before… Let’s just hope you can escape in one piece… Oh, and! Good luck.~ you’ll need it.

Reader is gender neutral

WARNINGS: swearing, mafia stuff, yandere tendencies. Feel free to tell me if I missed anything

..........

.......

.....

....

...

“Load that crate up!”

Whoosh

“Is the coast clear?”

“Don’t just stand there! Move! Damnit!”

Splash!

“Careful! You idiot!”

Creak…creak….CREAK!

“These damn boats are too fuckin’ loud!”

“…you’re too loud…”

“Care to repeat that?!”

“Easy!”

Sigh

If there’s one reason you’re gonna get caught is because of these bastards and their ‘whisper’ shouting!

swish…swish…

It’s quiet.

swish...

The boat is gently moving though the water as you settle to remind yourself why you put up with all of that.

‘One more job and I’m done.’ you reason with yourself ‘Just this one and it’s over!’ The madol are piling up right in front of your eyes! You can almost taste the sweetness of victory! You’ll be living the good life for a while after this job!

It’s all gonna be so worth-

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

H-huh…?...

“WHAT IS THAT?!”

“IT CAN’T BE! NO!”

“IT-IT’S THE SEA DEVILS!”

No… this is not possible! You checked! There were no merfolk sightings! What-

SLAM!

....CRreaaaAK...!

“…No…” gulping down your anxiety, you turn.

Only to come face to face with a mismatched gaze. Bemused and thoroughly entertained at the hell being unleashed all around the both of you. Your breath stills at the sight of the creature’s teeth. So dangerously sharp they’d have too easy a time tearing into your flesh.

A strong cold touch followed by cutting, claw-like nails digging into your arm stops you from moving away. You wince and the merman... laughs. His grin parts and-

“Awwwww~ you really thought you could get away?~” he coos and leers “You know, it’s kinda rude to show up unannounced on someone else’s turf.”

Wait-! he’s-... he’s leaning too much on that side-

“Let G-“

Crreeeaaaaaak!

“So stay and make up for it!”

SPLASH!

Water fills your senses and you kick and thrash but he’s not letting go. You try to free yourself, to swim away... and somehow, finally you break the surface.

Gasping for air and desperately clawing at whatever you can you try to speak again: “I-“ cough “I SAID-“

“Oya~ What is going on here?”

The agonized screeches of your fellow humans die out as your breath leaves you once more when you face the mirrored image of the first merman.

‘No.. no no nonononono no no no NO!’ This can’t be happening! You’re imagining things! The canal was clear! There are no merfolk here! You checked damnit! The others checked! This… this just- When- when did they arrive?!

“Hehehe~ look at them Jade! They’re trembling! Don’t they look like a cute little shrimp?! Hahaha!”

“Fufufu~ Floyd! You’re being quite rude to our new friend. Can’t you see they’re experiencing trauma? They’re probably in… shock.”

“Now who’s the rude one?”

Kick!

“Owww! Jaaade! You said Shrimpy here was in shock!”

“Fufufu, my mistake.”

In response to your protest, ‘Floyd’ tightens his hold on you as ‘Jade’ fixes you with his sharp eyes and begins to speak: “Don’t loosen your hold on them, dear brother.~ We have to escort our lovely companion onto dry land once more. Azul’s waiting.”

‘Azul’���?...

What- what are they planning?! Why would they keep you alive? Why bring you on land? This… is not good…. This is probably worse than if they tried to drown you!

You begin your erratic movements again. Hopefully you can hit a sensitive spot. Hopefully-!

You can’t let them drag you whenever they please!

If you could just-

“I thought we went over this!” Floyd hisses, annoyed tone carrying through the cold night. “Jaaaade...! Can’t we just knock them out for a few minutes?!”

“I don’t think Azul would be too pleased with that.”

“Awwwww! C’mon!”

“We are supposed to bring them back conscious.”

“Where are you taking me?!” your voice comes out frantic “What do you want from me?!” Jade stares at you for a second before giving you a sly smile.

“Ah, but what fun would it be if you knew?~ That’ll just ruin the surprise.” So, he’s not gonna give anything away, huh….

“Yeah! Just be patient, shrimpy!” This is not good. This is not good at all!

.......

....You might as well let them take you back to land… maybe you can shake them then.

They’re merfolk. If they want to get on dry land they’ll have to crawl. ‘I can outrun them’ you steel yourself.

… But there’s someone waiting… can you dodge them too?

You go with the flow and allow your captors to carry you over without much resistance. You have to conserve your energy.

The mermen keep sharing glances. Are they onto you?

You gulp. The bite of the icy water is catching up to you.

Has the water always felt this cold…?

No. You can’t let that distract you… you have to get away the moment you touch the ground.

As the three of you get closer and closer to the water’s edge, a silhouette begins to make itself clear.

“…You’ve been quiet for a while…” Jade’s remark is followed by his claws lightly pressing themselves into your arm, the sensation demands your attention… but it also demands you face the merman first.

“…Just thinking…”

“About what?’ Oh… he doesn’t miss a beat, does he.

“…This and that.” you try to deflect.

“That’s boring.” Floyd joins the conversation. “Tell us what you’re actually thinking.”

Like hell you’re gonna do that!

“Who’s that on the bank?” you question.

“...Oh! That’s Azul! You gotta meet him!”

“They don’t really have a choice in that matter, Floyd.”

This is the guy they mentioned before! You have to learn more. It could come in handy.

“…Is he your boss?”

….

The mermen share a look.

“Not exactly.” Jade answers first. “We work with and for him.”

“He’s got fun ideas.” You can feel the shrug in Floyd’s voice.

Well… this... is an interesting arrangement…

“Ah! We’re almost there.” Jade calls to Floyd, who suddenly comes to a halt.

What are they doing now....?....

Jade brings out two vials, the glass glistens in the moonlight and the liquid moves back and forth. The merman uncorks one and helps the other drink before repeating the action for himself.

What… what did they just drink?

“Hold on tight, shrimpy! We’re getting you back on land.”

And with that you are once again being all but dragged towards the waiting shadow.

You’re getting closer…

And closer…

Closer!

The moment Floyd’s grip lessens you bolt!

The thud of your shoes echoes though the dark night and your clothes cling to you. But you don’t stop running.

Your heartbeat’s loud in your ears and the adrenaline is running high. Maybe you can do it!

You can escape!

You can-

“Having fun?~” Floyd’s voice feels like a punch in the gut. All air leaves your lungs but you don’t dare stop, nor look at him.

HOW DID HE-?!

WHEN-?!

“If you stop running, I promise I won’t break too many bones!” HE’S MAD!

HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT?!?!

Maneuvering away from Floyd’s hands you end up bumping into something- someone else.

Jade.

“This has been quite the impromptu run… although not unexpected.” He gives you an all too polite smile.

Oh… maybe you shouldn’t have run…

The two mermen… now human looking, catch you with practiced ease.

They’ve done this before.

“Now, shrimpy, it’s time you faced your punishment.” Floyd… he sounds too cheery for this line of work. He stands on your right side.

“It is time to face your crimes.” Jade’s chillingly calm voice rings from your left.

The silhouette you’ve seen before steps in front of you. He sighs and then he begins speaking:

“Well then! Now that that-“ he gestures vaguely “stunt is done, I believe we should be formally acquainted.” He points to the mermen flanking your sides and continues “These are Floyd and Jade Leech. My business associates. They also happen to be twins, if you didn’t figure that out before.”

The twins let out their greetings and then the white haired man resumes talking.

“My name is Azul Ashengrotto. I run the Octavinelle Mafia and you have been smuggling goods on my territory. How do you plan to pay for-“

“I didn’t know! I got all the info I could! This is considered neutral ground! And water!” you protest.

“Ah… I see your mistake.” Azul smiles and brings a hand to his chin.

“Do you-“

“I just so happen to have acquired this territory this very morning. Legally as well.”

…what…

…legally?...

Your face drops, together with all your hopes. But the man continues undeterred.

“Since I am quite gracious and us here at Octavinelle practice benevolence, I have come up with an idea that will benefit us both.”

So… was… this was planned… wasn’t it?

“I have drafted a contract for you to sign. Nothing big. You’ll be working for me until you pay all the money you have made by dealing on this very route. Ah!-“ he stops you before you can even begin “since you are the only one alive all the charges get transferred to you. I eagerly await your cooperation. You’ll be coming tomorrow to sign all the legal paperwork. Jade and Floyd will fetch you and bring you to the Mostro Lounge, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. You’ll start working immediately after.” Azul leaves no room for you to argue.

He then turns to leave, the twins following after releasing you.

“And don’t think about running away and skipping town." the man clears his throat.

"We’ll find you again no matter where you try to go or hide. You belong to Octavinelle now.”

.....

Good luck getting out of this.~