#do you understand me do you see my vision

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

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[canine-witch]

What do you bring to relationships?

Today, I had a dream of a person crying and asking "Why did you leave me?" Oftentimes, when we lose friends, partners, and the relationships we have with them, it can be hard to build the confidence again. My intention with this reading is to show my collective what people truly love and appreciate about them, and why others would be attracted to you.

Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to discard what does not resonate with you.

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧

Group One ~ The Painting

You are confident and always bounce back. This doesn't mean that you don't have your off days or that you don't have insecurities. You have a sense of stability, confidence in yourself, and lots of hope and faith. You bring a lightness to any relationship, and you are a dependable person. I am seeing a school of fish swimming behind another fish, in the open sea. I am also seeing a sea turtle, not fighting against the waves, but gracefully moving with them. You are a leader, someone they believe in, and they admire your strength and your ability to go with the flow. Keep moving forward, you will have people in your life who admire you.

Group Two ~ The Jellyfish

You bring thoughtfulness to your relationships, seeker. You are aware of everything going on around you, and you aren't quick to anger or to fight. Your patience is a breath of fresh air. I am seeing the wind blowing through a field of flowers and refreshing a woman standing in the center of them. Your consideration, patience, and guidance make you a great partner and friend. Many do not have the skills and personality you possess, and it's refreshing to have you in their lives. Keep being yourself, and don't let people think that your kindness is weakness.

Group Three ~ The Lips

You fight for them, seekers. Many may have told you how they don't like your "aggression", when in reality you are loyal, know your worth, and know the worth of the people around you. You stand up for them, protect them, care for them with your fierceness. You do not tolerate for disrespect. I see a bull, pawing at the ground, about to charge at someone, while a young calf cowers behind him. The only reason others don't like your strength, is because they deserved it being turned on them. People love the way you fight for them and protect them, but be sure to rest afterwards. You have riteous anger for them, but make sure your fire doesn't burn yourself.

Group Four ~ The Bubbles

You call your friends and partners out. Everyone has vices, and you accept the darker parts of them. I see two people embracing in a seedy alleyway, a vision of kindness and warmth even in the darkest moments. But, you also don't let them hurt themselves or others. You care for them, and don't let them slip into illusions that they are always good or justified. You accept them, and keep them moving on the right path. You are precious to them because they know you accept all of them, and don't let their demons win.

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧

Thank you for your energy and time, seekers. I know it's difficult sometimes to understand how people see you, and I pray this found you at the right time, and comforted you.

If you would like a clarification reading, or a reading on another issue you have, I am currently offering free readings from now until February 3. You can send through dms or through an ask, and I will answer it!

Thank you, I am grateful for you!

[kunareads]

meta angel

suguru x reader

it's just suguru, he would never hurt you. but your body reacts like it doesn't know that.

masterlist

wc: 1.4k

started as a journal entry months ago kinda

content: boyfriend!suguru, hurt/comfort, angst, argument, trauma response, reader was in an abusive relationship (no specific details)

i’ve got voices in my head telling me that i won’t make it far

suguru thinks you carry things too deeply. that you let words and events settle into your chest like stones, holding onto them long after they’ve passed. he wonders if you even realize it, if the weight of them is familiar now, like something you’ve always known. he wonders if you’ll ever learn to let go.

he carries things too, but unlike you, he doesn’t hold them where people can see. he tucks them away into the spaces between his ribs. you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s drowning.

“you treat yourself like you’re disposable, suguru.” your voice cuts through the stillness, not loud, but laced with something unshakeable. “like your life is collateral.”

he draws in a slow, deep breath. “and you think you know better?” his voice is quiet, but sharp enough to cut. “you think knowing me means you get to decide what’s right for me?”

suguru doesn’t argue to win. he argues to exhaust, to chip away at resolve until the whole thing feels like a mistake. you’ve seen him do it, but you won’t give in tonight.

“i know enough.” the exasperation in your tone is building now, pressing against something deeper. “i watch you come back in pieces. you stitch yourself together with the bare minimum, just enough to survive next time. and all you’ll let me do is watch.”

he shakes his head, a harsh exhale escaping. “i don’t need saving.”

“this isn’t about saving you,” your voice wavers. not from weakness, but from something raw, something too knowing. “it’s about you acting like it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t come back.”

suguru stills. a fraction of a second, something caught between then and now. his face hardens, something so brief it could be missed, but you don’t miss it. when he speaks again, his voice is colder, more penetrating, a glacial edge slicing through the distance between you.

“i didn’t ask you to care.”

mirror singing in my face, where’d you go?

the words land like a slap, soundless but deep. you feel them settle, heavy, leaving something raw behind. he isn’t raising his voice, isn’t yelling, but that only makes it worse. it’s the control in his tone, the way the warmth drains from it, that makes something inside you go quiet.

he moves before you can process it. it’s just a shift, an unconscious attempt to put distance between you, but the way he does it places him directly between you and the door.

awareness prickles at the edges of your vision, something instinctive, old. your breath catches. you shift back, a step so small it shouldn’t matter. your fingers curl, not quite a flinch, but close. your shoulders lock. your gaze flickers past him to the door.

suguru notices the movement, but he doesn’t understand it yet. he assumes you’re backing down, that you’re retreating from the fight because it’s no longer worth the energy. his frustration simmers, pushing against the borders of restraint. “so that’s it? you’re just done now?” his voice tight, regulated, but there’s something hollow underneath it.

you don’t say anything.

“you wanted honesty,” he presses. “this is what it looks like.”

the silence between you concentrates, dense and unyielding.

you’re not just quiet. you’re tense. too tense. your breath comes too steady, too controlled, like it’s manual. your hands are curled, not in anger, but in something else.

for a moment, he doesn’t understand what just happened. the argument was sharp, cutting. but this? this feels different, off-kilter in a way he can’t place. his frustration lingers, but it’s edged now by something else, something uneasy.

something twists in his chest, cold and immediate. this isn’t right. his eyes follow yours, straight to the exit. and then it clicks.

he sees it—the way your shoulders have drawn inward, the way you’re not just stepping back, but recoiling.

throw it in the fire, ego in the fire

the realization drops into him like a stone in deep water.

it’s not about the fight anymore.

his voice softens instinctively, dropping into something warm and careful. “you’re not shutting down.”

you don’t look at him. but something changes in your expression, something unstable.

“i scared you.”

your head shakes too fast, too forcefully. “no, you didn’t—it wasn’t you.” the words rush out too quickly, like you need him to believe them.

but you still won’t meet his eyes. and that’s how he knows.

the ache is instant. deep. he steps aside immediately. not because you’re afraid of him but because you need space. and because he understands now.

you wonder if he knows how different he looks like this. how his edges dull, how he softens for a moment, just enough for you to see.

something loosens in your chest, but it doesn’t fade completely. you’re holding onto something. something not here, not now. you don’t know how to let it go.

he moves carefully, slowly enough that you can track every shift. his posture relaxes, breath leveling, voice smoothing into something softer.

“alright,” he murmurs, quiet. he doesn’t demand an explanation. he just lets the moment settle.

you move first. a hesitant step, the ghost of your fingers against his sleeve. it’s careful, tentative. the space between you hums with something delicate, like a thread pulled too tight.

it’s a risk in its own quiet way. a silent question. a test of whether he’ll pull away, whether you’ll regret reaching for him at all. your fingers hover, barely grazing the fabric, as if pressing too hard will shatter whatever this moment is turning into.

suguru waits. he watches, his breath measured, his presence persistent but unintrusive. he doesn’t reach for you. doesn’t pull you in. he lets you set the pace, his restraint saying more than words ever could. you think, for a moment, that maybe he’s just as afraid of breaking this as you are.

and when you nod, so small he could’ve missed it, he moves.

i’ve got a love for desire

the shift from conflict to comfort is soft and intentional. it unfurls slowly, like an exhale you didn’t realize you were holding, like the tentative warmth of sunlight after a storm. no sudden movements, no desperate grasping. just quiet, and the weight of understanding settling over you both.

he doesn’t say i would never hurt you. you already know that. instead, he whispers, his voice low and unwavering, “you’re safe. i got you.”

the silence stretches, gentler now, no longer thick with unspoken tension. after a long moment, he moves again, guiding you to the couch, not forcing, just easing. his fingers trace slow, familiar paths along your spine. a kiss pressed to your temple, lingering.

eventually, you speak, your voice barely a whisper.

“he used to—” you stop. the words catch, jagged and unfinished. they hover between you, raw and bleeding like an old wound reopened too suddenly. you exhale sharply, but it doesn’t steady you. the memory presses too close, settling heavily in your chest, something you can’t push back down.

suguru says nothing. he doesn’t urge you forward or try to fill the silence. he just listens, steady and patient, the way he always does when it counts.

you curl your fingers into his sleeve, anchoring yourself to the present.

“i don’t—” you try again, but the words feel too big, too tangled, too much. you shake your head, pressing your face into his shoulder instead.

he turns slightly, slow enough that you don’t even realize it at first. the space between you disappears as he tucks you closer, his hand smoothing over your back, tracing slow, familiar circles. a grounding weight, warm against you, breath calm at your temple. not asking, not demanding. just there.

and it should feel small, this moment. but it isn’t. it’s something more, something that settles in the quiet, telling you that he already knows what you can’t say.

he doesn’t say you don’t have to tell me.

he just nods, resting his chin lightly on top of your head, letting the quiet settle.

his warmth spreads through you, filling the spaces words never could.

“okay,” he murmurs, quiet and certain. not dismissive, not final. just something to hold onto, a reassurance.

you’re here. you’re safe. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.

and that’s more than enough.

[fazyrich]

Tags: Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader(?), teasing, fighting, slightly playful Sylus, random encounter, kinda proofread?. This is my first attempt of writing 😬😬. So ignore my inconsistent writings *sobs*

You/MC, Sylus, Caleb

Going to an event with Sylus as an apology for accusing him about your family house explosion 💥.

___

While walking around during the party with Sylus, your hand slotted firmly on his left arm, you just stumble upon Caleb. It turned out the event was just another gathering for the usual shady dealings—no surprise they had invited the Colonel as well. His gaze locks onto yours instantly.

You could see his eyes widened in surprise, and feel them rake upon your body. Tightly wrapped with a maroon silk gown, slitted at your left thigh, successfuly showing off your long legs. The look was further complemented with a pair of louboutins.

On the other hand, Sylus could sense how your hand slightly gripped his arm a little too hard. Understanding that something or someone is making you feel nervous.

"Mr Sylus, I rarely see you around lately", the older gentleman in front of Caleb greets them. Judging from their positions, They must have been talking with each other.

"Ah, Mr Charles, it has been a while," Sylus replied. Nodding slightly to the elderly gentleman before resting his gaze to Caleb. Sensing the stare, Mr Charles quickly exclaimed

"Oh this is Caleb, a junior of mine from the Aviation team,"

"Pleased to meet you..Mr.Caleb", Sylus said, extending his hand. Caleb glanced at it for a second before gripping it firmly.

"Same here," he replied shortly, tightening his grip as he spoke. Not noticing the cold response, Mr Charles nodded to me as they released the handshake.

"Never seen you out with a partner before, May I ask who she is?"

"Oh, she's my.. fiancée," Sylus replied. Hearing this both Caleb and I turned to Sylus, eyes widening in shock. What the hell, he never says that before?!

"Hah! Congratulations Mr. Sylus. You two make quite the pair", the elderly man said with a chuckle as he praised us.

Caleb, however was still in shock, his fist tight as his knuckles turned white. How could his pips-..No, no, this must be a part of her mission or something. It's better to play along

Following Mr. Charles, Caleb gathered himself and flashed his usual million watt smile " I agree Mr. Charles, they do look perfect for each other,"

His eyes stray from Sylus and only rest on my face, I could feel the raging emotion he is shooting me behind those gentle pairs of amethysts.

"Thank you for the kind words, gentlemen. Don't mind her- she's albeit a little tired from the honeymoon," Sylus claims, his eyes twinkled with amusement. Meanwhile, Caleb's left eye involuntarily twitched at the statement.

Okay now, that's enough. I tried to subtly pinch his side, a signal for him to stop the storytelling however sometimes I forgot that this man is well built. The only thing I'm doing is tugging his jacket.

Sylus immediately leans down, " What was that, sweetie?," Half of his build covering the vision of those two men from me. I glared at him for a second. "Stop teasing," I whispered in his ear.

"No can do, kitten. I'm always worried about you," he states. His hand softly tucks a strand behind my ear.

"By the way, Mr. Sylus. If you don't mind, would you like to discuss a potential business venture? My junior here would like to share some of his insights," the elderly man spoke, gesturing towards the other side of the hall.

You mean a new illegal business? And of course the fleet is involved. I sighed

Straightening up , Sylus turns to me, his eyes alone gauging my reaction. I smiled and patted his chest

"You should go, honey. I think I'm going to get more drinks," I forced a polite smile toward the two men.

"Very well , don't overdo yourself sweetie or I'll need to carry you back to the car again," he teased. His hand caresses my face again before resting on the brooch he gave me. Which now had beend tinkered into a hair ornament.

I saw him silently mouthing something to me before he turned and walked away

"Be careful"

I watched the three of them leave before walking in the opposite direction. Approaching the table decorated with miniature snacks and various alcoholic drinks, I picked a tall glass of white wine.

The event replaying in my head. Sheesh, that was delightful haha. This was supposed to be a casual event.

Why is Caleb here for fuck's sake. I sighed before sipping the wine

I wonder if Caleb is pissed or worried about me? Glancing up at the huge analog clock hanging by the wall. I noted, Half an hour past midnight. My body tensed

This night is not going to end any sooner huh. More like, it just started.

---

Hours drifted by as if time had lost all meaning.

By the time I reached my third glass of wine, there was still no sign of Sylus anywhere in the hall. Damn it! Did he ditch me or something? I clicked my tongue in frustration.

Deciding that the need for fresh air is overwhelming, I walked around the hall searching for an empty space to rest. Complaints continued to leave me until I reached a quiet balcony on the furthest part of the hall.

Perfect, none of those creepy party attendants is here. I gleefully rejoiced for the personal space

Walking forward, I leaned against the balcony, the crisp night air wrapping around me like a silent embrace.

"Ughh where did Sylus go, I wanna leave this shitty place," I whined loudly while looking up into the starry skies.

"You’re leaving already?"

The unexpected voice makes me flinch slightly and my grip on the railing tightened.

I hesitantly glanced over my shoulder. Oh no. Just my luck. The one person I was trying to avoid.

I forced a casual smile. "Oh, hi. Uh... Mr. Caleb, right?". Did I stuttered too much?

"Cut it out, pips. It’s just us here, I made sure of it," Caleb said, stepping beside me.

He hesitated for a moment, as if debating something in his mind, before his sharp gaze rested on me.

"Is this another one of your missions?" His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it.

"Didn’t know that one of a hunter's responsibility includes being an escort." He tilted his head slightly, the faint glow of the stars barely reveal his face.

"That's none of your concern. Besides, why the heck a respected figure like you attending a flashy event like this, Colonel ? " I huffed, turning away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Before I could take another breath, his hand gripped my shoulder, firm and unyielding, forcing me to face him once more.

"To be honest, I don't care as long as you're safe, pips. But do you know who that man is? Did you really accept a job without any research beforehand ? How careless are you??," His eyes locked onto mine, searching intently for even the slightest hint of an answer.

Did he seriously believe this was a mission? This idiot—. I pushed off his grip and stepped back, putting some distance between us both.

"What the fuck Caleb?!, I told you it's none of your business ?," I snapped, running a hand through my hair. Before he could reply, I pressed on.

"Yes, I know exactly who he is, and No, this is not a mission. I’m here of my own free will," I said firmly, letting the words settle between us.

After a brief pause, I continued with shaky breath, my tone heavy with challenge. "Didn’t the Fleet already know I was in the N109 zone? What do you think happened there, Caleb?".

The question struck Caleb like lightning, I could see various emotions cross his face before settling into one, Anger.

"You know who he is and you still out here with him?? Are you INSANE, pips?! Do you know how dangerous he is?!," the strings of questions edged with anger makes me flinch again.

"And what the fuck do you mean, 'what happened there?', What are you trying to imply ?," Caleb cursed, taking a step forward before stopping. He hesitates before continuing.

"He kills people for a living, for fuck's sake," he grumbles, frustation clearly displayed on his features.

"And you don't?," I laughed, the question hanging in the air. It silenced him beyond words.

Caleb was stunned at my accusation, watching him staggering back slowly makes me feel guilty for saying that.

Despite your anger, you realize Caleb is just worried about you. Gravely worried. Who are you kidding? The memories of those few days you guys spent together in Skyhaven should have made that clear, yet it still takes you by surprise.

Sometimes it hits you how Caleb, your Caleb, always make sure you are within his sight. Even back when you were kids.

Afterall, he is still Caleb. One of the few people I care for and -...the few that deeply cares about me. Looking down, I sighed.

"Look, it's fine Caleb. I'm fine, me and him, we are..- acquittances...at best. Well, he didn't..- exactly do anything bad to me," I shrugged hesitantly.

Well he did kindap and restrained me for what? three days?, but hey everyone make mistakes right? Haha

"How exactly do you want me to believe that? Do you even have evidence?," Caleb snorts, still not trusting the poor explanation.

"What if the man himself, vouch for that?," a familiar, silky voice responds.

Finally

Sylus walked right in between the both of us. He looked at Caleb for a second before turning to me.

"Are you okay, sweetie? You look exhausted,"

"I'm..-fine, just tired. You did leave me alone for hours, jerk,"

"You know how business works, it takes a long time to process but I'm done now," Sylus chuckled, stepping to my side facing the other man.

"If you don't believe her, I can asure you that she's fine and this outing of ours? Just a payback for the accusation she threw at me initially," Sylus explains, staring right into Caleb's face.

"Accu-sations ?," Caleb was taken aback. What type of accusation that fueled her to confront a highly wanted criminal?

"Uhhh, about tha-,"

"She accused me of killing you and your grandma I believe, her resolve was so strong she succeded in shooting me," Sylus smirks as if the explanation was some kind of a joke.

It was silent for a minute before Caleb speaks

"Pips, you..- you did that for me and gran?.. -For us?," the anger has left Caleb by now. He couldn't believe what he just heard, his pips trying to deliver justice for him but at the wrong address it seems.

She did it for me? For me and grandma? Caleb was touched but the fact that she was putting her life on a thread just to meet this man still bothers him.

Noticing Caleb had eased up after the explanation, you seized the moment to strengthen Sylus's explanation, " Yeah, I did - anddd one thing let to another. So now we're like business partners , just helping each other out,"

Sylus raised his eyebrow at my not-so-true claims but I nudged his side a little hard, hinting him to play along. He smirks. This man!

"If that’s all, I think you should head back inside. Mr. Caleb, your senior was looking for you just as we wrapped up our business discussion."

Caleb stiffened, he quickly glanced at his watch. Crap, had he really been gone this long?

Caleb sighed, "Fine, I’ll let it go... For Now. But you still owe me a proper explanation, Pips," he paused before shooting a pointed look . "I’ll call you later. And you—" Caleb’s sharp gaze landed on Sylus. "Take care of her, got it? If so much as a single hair is out of place, I will—"

"Yes I understand mother hen, now shoo. Get back to work," my hand gesturing towards the door. Caleb clicked his tounge at me, taking one last look, and he finally left.

Not even a few seconds later

"So, I make a living by killing people, huh? That’s crude," Sylus remarked as soon as Caleb was out of sight.

"Oh shut up Sylus, just take me back home neoww," I groaned impatiently.

"As you wish, kitten," he chuckled.

***

So yeah everyone, sorry for the wait 🙏🏻. I had to ask my friend to help me construct some of the sentences and dialogues, hehe.

This is my version of the ending, I'm not sure if this is angsty or dramatic but hopefully this is up to your taste. Thanks again for your kind words and of course, anyone want to write an alternate ending of this. Please do 😝🙌🏻 (especially smut)

I was thinking of writing another prompt on 'what if Caleb actually held the fake funeral of us' 🤔 but I have my finals next week 😩😩( wish me luck 🤞🏻😀). See you when I see you, xoxo

[bwat5-blog]

A Sister's Love: Jinx & Vi

**Spoilers For Arcane**

A while back I had a short but pleasant discussion with someone on one of their posts about Jinx's treatment of Vi, and how it can feel like Jinx doesn't seem to care about Vi in many instances. In hopes of further discussion, I posted in the community where many of you wonderful folks shared your thoughts on the subject and I got a lot of really good insight into this as well. I was thinking about that this morning and it got me thinking about Jinx in general, and more specifically the times when even if it's not as clear, her love for Vi shines through.

I've said this many times but it bears repeating. I am aware that I have been quite harsh on Jinx. The unfortunate reason for most of that is that a significant amount of Jinx fans have an obsession with comparing her to Caitlyn or Vi that borders on the fanatical. But my issue has never been, and will never be with the character herself. I think she is absolutely amazing as a character and loved watching her story unfold.

*I do this every-time but I think it's important. Especially because some of you have shared with me that your own mental health is what has made you connect with Jinx so strongly. I understand and recognize that her mental health plays an immensely important role in her character's journey. I am in no way, shape or form a qualified mental healthcare professional. So any disrespect or lack of sensitivity is not my intention*

Jinx & Vi:

The journey of these sisters is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure. It is many people's favorite part of the story and for good reason. They are so close when the show begins and ripped apart by the darkness in their world. Only to fight their way back to one another through love and sacrifice.

But their story is not without conflict. In fact at their lowest point they almost kill one another. There is much that can be said about Vi's love for Jinx, the times she fails her, and those important moments, but I want to focus on Jinx right now.

I don’t have exact quotes on hand, but someone in the community made an excellent point during our discussion. Even when Vi and Jinx are at odds, and Jinx’s hallucinations try to convince her that Vi no longer loves her—that she’s been replaced by Caitlyn—Jinx fights back. She defends who she knows her sister to be, even if she can’t always silence those voices. It’s only pain, fear, or manipulation that pushes her too far, making her lose her grip on what she knows to be true.

During the horrifying sequence when Jinx is being saved by Singed, she hallucinates. And who does she hallucinate in that terrifying moment when she is in terrible pain and in such need of comfort? Vi. Even though she just tried to kill Vi on that bridge. The vision is only corrupted when Caitlyn appears, which all stems from Silco and Sevika feeding Jinx's paranoia.

Okay. I know what some of you are thinking seeing me post ANYTHING about the dinner party on a Jinx positive post. Hear me out. There is no question that Jinx does ALL sorts of fucked up shit here. But we are talking about her love for Vi. What does she want here? She wants things to be like they used to be. She wants her sister. She is in such a dark and twisted state that she cannot see how terrible her actions are, but at her core, she wants her older sister to love her like she used to. She doesn't hurt Vi (I mean aside from the bonk). Additionally, and again- I AM NOT SAYING SHE DIDN"T DO TERRIBLE THINGS HERE- Even with all she did to Caitlyn, she knows Vi cares for Caitlyn, she views Caitlyn as the one who was taking Vi from her, and yet she doesn't kill Caitlyn and she easily could have. This is not about justifying anything she does. It's about looking for what lies beneath the darkness in her to see the person she has the potential to be again.

Here at their lowest moment, when Vi and Jinx have almost killed each-other, and Jinx is glad Vi is the one who is going to finish her, Jinx screams "NO!" when Isha does this. She doesn't want Vi to die.

Vi is at her worst during her pitfighter arc. I'm not going super in-depth on this because this post is about Jinx but Vi is in a self-destructive spiral and totally alone. It's quite clear in one moment that Jinx is there in the crowd but if you slow down the whole sequence you actually see her there a few times. This was primarily what I was discussing with some other people and I believe Jinx was watching over Vi in the best way she could process. I'm sure there was some degree of pleasure in seeing Vi cast out by Caitlyn at first, but with all other signs pointing to Jinx caring for Vi I don't think Jinx was here laughing at her sisters pain. More trying to be there and watch over Vi but with no idea how to approach her with all that happened.

*I fully recognize there is a degree of speculation on my part for this point but I think it's reasonable, feel free to let me know if you disagree!*

With everything that has happened between them, the fact that Jinx comes to collect Vi when she finds out about Vander speaks volumes. There is still much to be worked out between them but she wants their family to together again including Vi. And although I couldn't find the GIF for it, when jinx is in the dark with her lighter after Vi and Vander fight is such a heart wrenching moment. She is clearly so afraid that she has caused the death of her sister, her dad, or both. She cares so much for those that she has left.

Jinx and Caitlyn's history is the furthest thing from simple. But in this moment, Caitlyn cast Vi out, hit her, became the commander and placed Zaun under martial law all because she wanted Jinx (this is not a who is right and who is wrong I'm just making a point), Jinx would HATE Caitlyn. But she knows what she means to Vi. And she just saw Caitlyn save Vander. Jinx easily could have let Rictus finish Caitlyn then jumped in if it was just about saving Vander but she still jumps headfirst into the fight.

In the aftermath of Isha and Vander's death, Jinx could easily have escaped Caitlyn. But Caitlyn tells Vi that all Jinx wanted was to make sure Vi was safe after Vi sacrificed herself to protect her.

Jinx's mindset in this moment is a complicated topic. But I want to focus her feelings about Vi. Vi has come and broken her out of jail, risked everything for her again. And Jinx realizes Vi will never give up on her. Even at great cost to herself. So Jinx punches her and leaves her, and almost begs her to start living for herself. Because she knows Vi cannot give herself that permission. She wants Vi to choose her own life, and to choose love.

Free and clear, obviously Jinx was going to do something horrible but thankfully Ekko talked her down. Even still, she could have done anything. But what does she choose to do? She chooses to ride to war with her people, honoring Vi's faith in her.

And of course, the absolutely devastating final sacrifice (I know she's alive but you get it) of Jinx saving Vi's life when the pain and grief finally overwhelm the fearsome brawler. I have mentioned it many times, but Jinx's core belief is that everyone who gets close to her dies. She thinks she is a curse on all who love her. But in her last action, she saves the life of the older sister she knows will always love her, and who never gave up on her.

I have touched on most of this before but it was just on my mind this morning. I hope I didn't bore anyone. I know there are LOTS of strong feelings about Jinx and like I have said over and over nothing here is about justifying the wrong she did. It's just about looking at those moments that showed her true colors even when she herself couldn't see them. Hope you enjoyed, take care!

[whatdoidosatoru]

arise, fair sun

baji keisuke/fem!reader | ao3 meeting at the bridge goes about as well as you could predict, baji can't tell you about his plans, and you can't ask him to spill. you know he has something up his sleeve though. wc: 5196 cw: shakespeare (sorry) a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff

The Shibuya-bashi footbridge was surprisingly quiet today as if reflecting the sombre mood of the boy leaning against it. His hair was a long black curtain on one side of his face, the other side uncovered thanks to a strand tucked behind his ear. 

When you spotted him, your breath hitched. His new jacket caught your eye, being a new addition to your best friend’s outfit, a white jacket with a headless angel on the back - the Valhalla uniform. His dark hair contrasted with the white of the jacket, and seeing him wear it felt… unnatural.

You walked towards him in casual clothes, not wanting to stir any tensions between the gangs, and you hadn’t even reached him when he spoke in a voice low enough that he couldn’t be overheard, but loud enough that you could understand him clearly.

“You can’t change my mind, I’m not coming back.”

You stopped a few feet from him, leaning against the same fence and looking over the traffic underneath the footbridge.

“I know.”

You just wished he would tell you what was going on. It was clear that he wasn’t honest about it, that he hadn’t left Toman for some bullshit reason like he had said. However, you weren’t going to push him like Chifuyu had asked you to. You trusted his plans, trusted that he knew what he was doing, even if you desperately wanted to be included, be by his side like the old times.

“You’re not going to ask me why I left?” He spoke bluntly, with a little trace of surprise in his voice, but his gaze stayed on the moving traffic below. There was hardly anyone on the bridge but you two, just a few people rushing to and from work, nobody paying you any mind.

You looked down at the traffic, picking out cars that honked at others to focus on something other than your heart beating so loudly. You shook your head to answer his question, knowing he could still see you in his peripheral vision since he didn’t turn his head to face you.

Baji let out a long exhale, he could tell you weren’t there to pester him to spill everything. He knew you well enough to know that he could share his pain, you had shared everything before. Even through his stupid decisions, dumb and rash moves, you had always been by his side, either pulling him out of his mess or ending up in it with him.

“Then why are you here?” he continued in a low voice, still not tearing his gaze away from the cars below.

“Wanted to see you.” Your voice was equally as low, impacted by the immense emotions fighting inside you. Sighing, you didn’t look over at him. Your thoughts were with the moving people under the bridge, with the passage of time, and the ever-changing nature of everything in this world. 

He gripped the fence of the bridge a little tighter. Despite knowing you wouldn’t be here to question and push him, he didn’t expect such an answer. I wanted to see you. Of course.

“Did you come here alone?” He spoke up after a few moments of processing your words. Finally, he looked up from the traffic and turned his head in your direction. You saw his movement from the corner of your eye and followed suit, facing him while still leaning on your palms, gripping the fence.

A simple nod answered his question. You couldn’t have known if he’d be alone or with someone, not yet sure how much Valhalla trusted him. But you were out of the Toman uniform, wearing casual shorts and a T-shirt, not a single sign of being a gang member on your clothes.

“Chifuyu is doing alright, by the way. The bruises on his face are fading.” You spoke a little more softly. He had done a number on Chifuyu to prove that his ties with Toman had been cut, but Chifuyu didn’t hold a grudge against him. He believed that Baji had a plan he simply wasn’t sharing with anyone. Baji furrowed his brows in guilt and shame, feeling awful for having to leave Toman.

“That’s… good to know.” He mumbled slightly, his voice carried a tone of relief despite the turmoil he felt inside. A flock of birds flew overhead and you lifted your head to follow their movements, the breeze from their wings lifting Baji’s and your hair, rustling it before it settled down again.

“Missed you at game night last night.” You didn’t say it to make him feel bad, though you knew inevitably it would. You needed him to know you missed him being there. You missed him being your friend, not just your division’s captain. A random person shuffled past you while talking on the phone hurriedly, getting out of earshot before Baji replied.

“I know… I miss game nights too.”

“Not the same without my Pictionary partner.”

You slid ever so slightly closer to him along the fence, bending your knee and resting it against the railing, making your stance look almost casual. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Baji.” You continued in an almost sad tone, unable to let him go on without letting him know, in your own subtle way, how much you were all worried about him, how much everyone… how much you missed him.

He let out a chuckle, but his instant grin was quickly replaced with a serious expression when you spoke. He knew better than to think you would guilt him into leaving Valhalla, you’d spent many years by each other’s side and he knew manipulation simply wasn’t your style.

“I know what I’m doing, alright?” He assured you, and maybe even tried to convince himself as well.

“Is anyone from Valhalla around?” Your question made Baji quickly look around to make sure nobody was lurking. “No, I came here alone.” He was still glancing around to make sure that, despite his lone outing to the footbridge, nobody had decided to check on him. 

“You’re staying safe?” You slid a little closer again, now standing within whispering distance from him. 

He looked over at you briefly and let out a sigh at the question. He knew you were just worried, checking on him to make sure he was alright. He nodded slightly and closed his eyes.  “As safe as I can be,” he whispered, keeping his voice low and quiet, “but I can handle myself, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know.” Your response was immediate, though you didn’t know why he still bothered to tell you not to worry as if you hadn’t done this dance a million times before. “I know you can.” 

You slowly reached out to touch his face tenderly, brushing his cheek with your thumb. Your eyes focused on the shadows under his eyes, more prominent now than before leaving Toman.  Baji closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing slowed and he leaned into your hand, as if this gentle touch was exactly what he was craving.

“Then why do you still worry so goddamn much?” He quietly mumbled against your palm, opening his eyes and finally looking right at you. Sliding a little closer still, you looked up at him with a solemn expression, taking in the relaxed expression that clashed with his stressed-out demeanor.

“I can’t stop.” It was an honest answer, but one he either wasn’t ready to hear, or didn’t know how to act upon hearing.

“Damn, you’re such a pain.” His voice carried no annoyance, only affection despite the harsh words.

You softly chuckled before getting up on your tip-toes to get closer to his face. Your soft lips ghosted over his, barely touching at all before you got back down, pulled your hand away from his face and jokingly punched him in the shoulder for calling you a pain. You nearly gave in when his breath hitched in anticipation, but it wasn’t the time. He let out a fake grunt in pain when your closed fist collided with his shoulder, rubbing the area softly. 

“That hurts, you know…” He mumbled, faking a hurt tone. Quickly, he switched to a grin and punched you back, albeit incredibly lightly, on the shoulder.

“No, it doesn’t.” You rolled your eyes replying, slightly smirking and letting the playfulness into your tone, making Baji’s grin widen. 

“I think you bruised me.” He said through a light chuckle, rubbing his shoulder dramatically with a look of fake pain. Now, you didn't mean to feel it, but the light banter in his words kicked the air out of your lungs. It seemed so… normal, but at the same time, it obviously wasn't. Nothing about this was normal. Your jaw clenched at the light-hearted tone that he had used just like nothing had changed, though everything was different.

“I think you deserved it.” Your voice came out as a little whisper while a few tears pricked your eyes, threatening to spill and make this into a bigger deal than it was.

Of course, he picked up the sudden change in your voice, the front you had put up, the pretense that everything was fine. That your heart wasn't breaking.

His face changed into an expression of guilt. Despite believing what he was doing was necessary and right, there was a part of his life that was going to be affected regardless. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, it was clear in his voice when he finally mumbled quietly.

“I suppose I did.”

You looked down at your feet before managing to meet his gaze again.

“You know I'm always on your side, right? And so is your entire division.”

His eyes followed your gaze, meeting your eyes after looking down, as if in shame.  Baji knew you weren't trying to make him feel guilty, only to reassure him and remind him that no matter what, you'd still support him.

“Yeah… I know.” He replied after nodding slightly, letting out a long sigh.

“Then do what you need to do,” you reached up to softly touch a strand of his hair and then his cheek, “but don't hesitate to ask me for help if you need it. And come back to us afterwards… come back… to me.”

You felt his movement, leaning into the touch on his face while closing his eyes, savoring the moment of tender intimacy between you two, one that you both needed.

Both of you knew he couldn't ask for help right now, he couldn't ask the rest of his Toman division. He had to do it alone. But… hearing your words made him feel a little less alone. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was softer.

“I will. I… promise.” After hearing his words you quickly wiped a tear from the corner of your eye before it could roll off your cheek. Returning your hand into the pocket of your shorts, you forced your body into a relaxed stance and pushed yourself off the fence.

“You better. I'll be waiting.”

With that, you turn to leave, walking away with feigned nonchalance. Baji watched as you walked, noticing the slight tension in your shoulders while you did your best to act casual and not look back. His hands itched to reach out to you, call out and pull you back, but he didn’t act on it. He stayed still. He watched your figure get smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see you anymore, keeping his voice as low as possible as he whispered your name.

The next few days seemed never ending. Though Baji was being kept busy with Valhalla business, his mind often wandered, sometimes to that day on the footbridge, sometimes reminiscing about the good old days with Toman. Most of his nostalgia-induced daydreams ended up being about game nights with you, nightly conversations with you, bike rides with… you. The way you had held his face in your gentle hands that day at the bridge was driving him insane with overthinking. There was certainly a pattern there… Finally, there was hope for a day off, no bullshit tasks within Valhalla, Baji was free to do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted… was to check something.

He started walking in the direction of your house, almost in reflex to overthinking and struggling. Clearly, his mind wouldn’t shut up about how he had left things at the bridge, he tried to rationalize his thoughts, but to no avail. Just go, check on her, make sure she’s alright.

So he found himself across the clearing from your window.

Baji felt a hit of nostalgia as he remembered all the times he would sneak through that same window on the first floor just to chat the night away, wiping away your salty tears and talking your ear off about something random just to make you smile again.

He walked through the clearing, stopping just several feet away from the window, observing your seemingly relaxed state as you sat on the windowsill and let your damp hair dry. He suddenly felt the extent of how much he had missed you. Your game nights, your laughs, your movie marathons…

As you sat on the windowsill of your bedroom, you tried distracting yourself from thinking about Baji. The book you had picked up to try and read was lying on the floor, face-down, long forgotten. Your mind was switching from one memory to another, reminiscing the days when you’d message Baji if you got into a fight with your parents or had a generally shitty day and he’d immediately come over, spending the night sitting on this very same windowsill and talking until the sun came up, getting no sleep, but giggling deep into the night.

Reminiscing the days when he would invite you over to his place, when his mom would ask you to make him do things he had been too lazy to do (“why the hell would i clean my room when it’s gonna get messy again anyway?”) or beg you to make him study for tests and do projects due the following week. It had always been a losing battle, but you could appreciate the fact that she thought you had any sway in his head.

Snapping out of your daydreaming and looking down to where he stood, at first you thought you imagined him standing there, but he had his signature grin on, there was no way your mind could replicate that so perfectly.

You opened the window fully, poking your head out.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” You recited in an overdramatic tone, sporting a smirk in amusement despite the circumstances.

Baji chuckled when he recognized the reference, shaking his head slightly while preparing to climb up to the window like before. He sat down on the windowsill, looking at you and returning your smirk.

“I suppose that makes you Juliet then?” His tone made your sly smirk turn into a smile.

“I suppose so.” You replied almost instantly, missing the easy banter you once kept constantly.

“What, not very happy to have Romeo here?” He teased when you didn’t run into his arms like you would before. You eyed the Valhalla jacket that he wore, your heart clenching at the sight of it worn so casually, so… openly.

Your smile slightly faltered as you sat together, the tragic comparison with the fictional characters suddenly glaringly obvious and fucking sad.

“You do remember how they ended up, right?” Your point hit home, but he waved it off. Baji clearly didn’t want to think about the story, instead finding slight amusement in the way he, once again, climbed through the window like some kind of hero, saving the damsel in distress. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t ruin it.” He said with a lighthearted scoff.

“If I remember correctly,” you started with a light smirk again, “when we covered that play in school, your words were something along the lines of… ‘well maybe they should have communicated better and not been idiots’.”

He let out a genuine laugh, the nostalgia about the school days bringing out the humor of his words.

“Yeah, that was it. And I stand by it, they were idiots.”

“So have you come here to communicate, Baji?” You pulled your leg up on the windowsill, folding it under yourself at the same time that he leaned his head back against the wall as you faced each other.

“I have… I think.”

Baji’s fingers seemed to twitch, as if itching to touch you as he folded them on his knees in an attempt to appear casual. He paused for a moment, savoring the silence that had settled between you, though he had questions on the tip of his tongue, all of them scrambling over each other to be let out first. Instead of asking how you were doing, if you were alright, how things were… he was just silent, paralyzed.

“You been okay?” You broke the silence in a soft voice for him.

His eyes betrayed the look of relief that you had spoken first, alleviating his stress of having to initiate. Despite that, his brown eyes reflected sadness. Guilt that he hadn't reached out first. I should've asked her first, I was the one who left.

“Yeah, I'm… I'm fine.” There was an unsaid as fine as I can be in his response. 

“Kept busy?” You smiled as you asked, relieved that at least he wasn’t… hurt physically. As far as you could see.

“Yeah, that's an understatement.” He chuckled through the reply, a humorless noise, an attempt at lessening the severity of the circumstances.

In truth, he had been busy most of the week, mostly because Valhalla was trying to use him for anything they could. It wasn't every day you got a highly capable first division captain of a rival gang to join you, they would've been stupid not to use the situation.

“I'm not gonna ask more about it, I know you can't tell me…” You followed up quickly, making sure he knew that you still didn't expect him to divulge his plans, that you understood his need for secrecy.

Baji nodded, a part of him wanted to confide in you… needed the comfort of another person, his best friend, telling him it would be okay and he was right to make those choices. He quickly changed his tone to a more light-hearted one, nudging you with his foot.

“I would tell you if I could, you know that.”

“I know.” You responded in a soft voice before looking down to where he nudged you as you played with a strand of your damp hair. “How’s your mom? And Peke J?”

His lips curled into a little smile, it had been a while since he talked about his mom and the cat.

“They're both doing fine. They're good,” he paused a little before adding, as if contemplating whether or not to say anything more, “my mom says she misses you.”

You smiled through the pang of guilt, though it wasn't exactly your fault that you hadn't visited.

“I miss her too, miss Peke J’s loud ass meowing as well.” You missed spending time at his place, sneaking into his bedroom, playing with Peke J and giving him catnip stuffed toys while his mom made you coffee and sandwiches. It was sometimes eerie how similar his mom and he looked, but it was heartwarming to see he was Ryoko’s son through and through.

He, too, remembered the good times at his place, you two, his mom, and the cat. Some of his favorite moments. 

“Yeah, he's as noisy as ever, I swear he's yelling louder every damn day.”

“I wouldn't be surprised, actually. He's probably part hyena or something.”

Your heart soared when Baji snorted with laughter, the closest it came to the way things had been before. 

“I'd believe that. Little bastard wakes me up every morning with his yowls.” With a brush of his hand through his long hair, he sighed.

It became so easy laughing again, sitting on the windowsill with him, your legs touching as you escape reality for a while.

“Can you please take that off?” You pointed at his Valhalla jacket, the only visual reminder of the harsh reality, the only thing that ruined your daydreaming of simpler times.

Baji tried to keep things light-hearted for a bit longer, playfully scoffing and raising his eyebrow at the request though in his eyes it was evident he noticed your somewhat sad tone.

“You want me to strip for you, is that it?” There was no other way he could have expected you to react apart from a roll of your eyes and a click of your tongue.

“Don't want a Valhalla member in my bedroom… just want to see my Baji…”

My Baji.

The words made his chest feel a little tighter and his heart started hammering. He didn't want to be just a Valhalla member to you, didn't want to be anyone else other than… your Baji. He took a deep breath and slid the jacket off his shoulders, unceremoniously dropping it on the bedroom floor. Once the jacket came off, he was back to being a regular guy, clad in a regular t-shirt and regular jeans, the thing you liked seeing him wear the most, other than his Toman uniform.

“Thank you, Kei.” You didn't use his first name too often as most of your other friends just called him Baji, but sometimes… when the mood was just right, when he was more than just Baji, he was Keisuke. Kei. Now he was finally your Keisuke again. 

No gang, no defection, no bullshit.

It didn't seem like he understood what a big deal it was for you, seeing him like that with an aura of normalcy instead of wearing that damn thing until you called him by his first name again, reminding him of the connection you’d always had. Baji shifted slightly, his foot sliding a little closer to yours, touching the side of your ankle. He was silent for a moment, as if reminding himself that he was still him.

“I'm still the same person.”

“I know,” you leaned forward, reaching up to his face and cupping his cheek gently, just like you had done at the footbridge, “just don't need to see that damn symbol.”

Your touch was so gentle and careful, as if holding something precious in your hands, it made him instinctively lean into your palm again, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh. He finally seemed to understand that seeing him in that jacket reminded you of the stupid goddamn situation you were in, of the fact that he shouldn't have even come here.

“I never wanted it to be like this.” He admitted quietly.

“I know, I get it,” your thumb just slightly brushed against his cheek, “that's why I'm not asking you to tell me your plans… or to include me, though I really want you to. I trust you.”

His throat tensed as he swallowed thickly at your words. 

“You shouldn't trust me so easily.”

“Think it was easy?” You let out a surprised laugh, short and sweet.

He lifted one black eyebrow in surprise, taken aback at the reply, as if he expected you to tell him you’d always trust him, that it was easy because it was him. 

“You sayin’ it’s not easy trusting me?” Curiosity got the better of him.

“I’m saying,” you pinch his cheek lightly for a brief moment, “that it wasn’t easy to get to know you back then. But once I knew you… really knew you, I knew I could trust you.”

He hummed softly before nodding, remembering how he kept away from most people at school, not really taking to friendships easily. But once you’d got through to him and befriended him, you became inseparable. His body leaned in once again, resting against your warm palm in a subconscious search for comfort.

“Guess you’re just too stubborn, huh?” He teased.

A slight breeze through the open window ruffled over you as you sat facing him, crossing your legs over his on the windowsill.

“Good thing you love me stubborn.”

His hands rested on your thighs, a small smile gracing his face as he marveled at how soft your skin was and how warm it felt under his palms. It felt good being close to you like this again, even if only for a little while, even if it could hurt even more once the moment was done and back to being in Valhalla, having no ties to Toman, no ties to you. For now, he was just relishing the moment, and in the moment he let out a half-playful, half-serious scoff.

“Hmph, more like unfortunate.”

“Oh yeah, very unfortunate to have someone by your side whatever the weather, right? Poor you.” You chuckled, tempted to smack his cheek.

“Oh absolutely, it’s truly a struggle living with the burden of your unwavering support and loyalty.” Baji grinned and patted your thigh playfully, finally relaxing fully in the familiar banter, this is how it’s supposed to be.

“And yet you always come back for more… masochist.” You retorted, soaking up all the smiles on his face, the way his lips curled and showed the sharp points of his teeth was so familiar, so cheekily and deeply him. It was obvious he was enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment, a brief respite from the weight put on his shoulders since joining Valhalla.

“Oh you have no idea. Nothing gets me off more than being around your stubborn ass.” His hand squeezed the flesh of your thigh gently, in a slow motion, as if reminding you (and himself) that he was still here, and this was real. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, sliding your body closer to him.

“Knew it, you can’t keep away from my stubborn ass.”

Baji smiled. You lifted your gaze to catch his eyes, skin crinkled around them as it always did whenever he let himself show a big grin, his sharp canines on full display. 

Oh, how you loved it when he smiled. 

The sight of it made your face soften even more, as if caught off guard by such a sincere reaction, as simple as a smile. 

He didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he turned his head to the side to look at you better. He held your gaze, drinking in your closeness, the way you looked at him like he mattered. Like he had a place in this world. 

Oh, how he loved it when you looked at him like that. 

Both, suddenly and slowly at the same time, you lifted your head and stretched your neck to ghost your lips over his again, just like the other day on the bridge. They barely touched before you pulled back slightly, not even trusting yourself to take a breath before returning to a safe distance from his lips. 

Baji wanted to grab you, pull you closer, and kiss you until you were both gasping for air. He wanted to remember this moment, to store the memory of your touch in his mind. He didn’t act though, letting you pull back slightly before he spoke in a low voice.

“Unfair…”

Your voice comes out more strained than intended, as if struggling to find the strength to squeeze them through your teeth. “I will kiss thy lips.Haply some poison yet doth hang on themTo make me die with a restorative” You barely made it through the last line before quickly, afraid you would chicken out, closing the distance between your lips and softly kissing him.

He kissed back almost immediately, almost like he was about to lean in and kiss you himself had you not acted first. His mind was clear of everything apart from you. All his focus was on this blissful moment, hanging in the balance between the outside and the inside, between past and future. Between you and him.

The kiss soon became more desperate, Baji couldn’t help himself, his lips took more, pulled sounds from your lips, swallowing them hungrily. He moved his hand from your thigh to cup the back of your neck, greedily pulling you even closer to him. Deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue against your lips, he sought to taste you.

Desperate for more contact, you shifted to settle on his lap, pressing yourself against him and placing your suddenly restless hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in even more, closer, never enough. You kissed him like he was an oasis in the middle of a desert, like you were dying of thirst and he was sweet nectar. 

Once the kiss was broken, you search his eyes for anything resembling regret, anything that could break your heart as it lay out in the open. Your quick-flitting eyes made you focus on his breathing, analyzing every molecule of the tension between you. 

If there was one thing he was sure of, it was this – Baji Keisuke could never regret kissing you.

“I missed you every day you weren’t here.” Your voice was raw and quiet, but the proximity made it unnecessary to speak any louder, the warmth in your voice was enough to make his heart ache. Baji’s hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin before he responded in a soft voice.

“I missed you too. More than you know.”

They always said that learning stupid old dramas and literature was pointless. But you had a blueprint for a tragedy that you could avoid. You couldn’t bear to think of the similarities with tragic heroes. Star-crossed, doomed from the start. Instead, your heart thrummed with a different melody, rebellious, hell-bent on overcoming this bullshit, to hell with Valhalla and these grand schemes. You would fight and emerge victorious.

You kissed again, and again, lips gently meshing together in a slow dance, taking all the time you could steal from the universe, carving out a space and time for yourselves where you could exist in a bubble with no real-life consequences.

Baji’s eyes fluttered as your lips left his to continue their gentle affections across his jaw, down to where it met his neck. Your lips parted to press soft kisses and you let out little moans at the incredible feeling of finally having his sensitive skin under your lips like this. It was addicting.

It was nearly dangerous. He shouldn’t have even been here, but he was. Holding you in his lap, sitting on your windowsill with his hands resting on your ass, pressing you against his body that was going completely pliant as you traced your lips across his neck, down to his shoulder and back up to his jaw. That damn Valhalla jacket stayed forgotten on your bedroom floor, completely unwanted and irrelevant in this perfect moment, isolated from the rest of the world. 

And all he could think about was how to hold you even closer, closer, closer.

thank you so much, @just-one-more-beer for lending me your eyes and brain to beta-read it months ago <3

[lol-im-done]

Impossible Choices - Chapter Two

summary: You had been raised expecting nothing more than to do us your Gods instructed, to use your powers to keep the Targaryens in power but what happens when that very family threatens to destroy itself?

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

tags: slow burn, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, dark magic

can also be read on ao3

chapter 1

chapter two: broken illusions

Dragonstone, 132 AC

The winding cobblestone streets and mismatched roofs of the homes, taverns and brothels of King’s Landing lay beneath you. A rush of air filled your lungs, breaths harmonizing with the legendary beast beneath you who let out a mighty roar. An airy, melodic voice calls out to you. Atop her mount she sits, a beautiful cerulean creature that twists powerfully in the sky, her rider’s silver braid whipping in the wind. 

“I shall enjoy this ride greatly! I fear it may be my last for a long time to come!”

“Why do you say that?”  The voice that comes from your mouth is not your own, it is masculine and regal. 

“When the dragons dance in the sky I shall not join them. Their fiery waltz invites destruction.”

“Dance? What dance?”

Her response becomes more distant, you struggle to understand. Before you’re able to make sense of it, the dream ends and your stomach drops as you plummet back into reality. 

There was no relaxed awakening, her words sending a surge of panic through your limbs - Their fiery waltz invites destruction. It takes a few moments for you to regain control of your racing heart, peering around your chambers to reorient yourself. The flames from the fireplace bounce off the stone walls, the heat causing beads of sweat to accumulate on your brow. In the distance you can hear the screeches of dragons from beyond the Dragonmont, the rumbling of those that lay beneath the castle. This had not been your first time dreaming with dragons or through the eyes of another but it had been your first time encountering her. Alas there was not a moment to reflect on your dream, with exhaustion still clinging to your bones you roused yourself from bed and knelt by the flames. 

“Balerion, King of the Gods, I seek to prove myself worthy of these powers you have given me. Morghul grant me a long life to be of service to you and the Gods. Grant me a peaceful journey to your realm when the time comes. Tessarion allow me to see beyond this mortal world....”. 

The prayers you had recited since you had been a novice in the Order held more weight this day than they had in years before. You were no longer a Sister, but now a High Priestess of the Order of Visenya. Balerion himself had whispered his directive into High Mother Valarr’s ear, changing the course of your life. There was no moment to doubt yourself, it was an arduous trial in order to endure the heightened powers that you would receive if you passed through the Realm of the Gods and back unscathed. Women had crumbled to ashes before your eyes as they attempted this ritual in your youth but it did not matter, this was your fate. Flashes of the trial strike your mind, hands trembling as you dress yourself-

The Realm of the Gods had at first been pitch black, but slowly as if a veil lifted you were standing in a vast throne room, thrones of dragonglass in a semi circle, fires blazing at every corner. 

“Zūgagon mandia?” A voice booms in the distance, shaking the ground beneath you. Afraid sister? 

“Dōrī,” you manage to say. Never. 

“Nēdenka hāedar. Ivestragī īlva ūndegon skoros kustikāne ao drējī emagon,” a more feminine voice almost teases. Brave girl, let us see what strength you truly possess. 

What had come next was unlike anything you had experienced before, as if every nerve in your body had been doused by dragonfire. The very blood in your veins turning to lava as you absorbed the immense power the Gods gifted you. Visions of the past, unclear and overwhelming made you feel like you had gone mad. After it had all ended you had returned to the Tower of the Order, curled up on the floor, a river of blood seeping from your nose and ears. Lesia approached you with scissors and with a gentle hand cut your hair that had recently reached your waist. Now the tresses kissed your jaw, the rest going into an offering bowl that Aera placed into the flames. Next you weakly removed your right glove before Aera made a cut across the palm of your hand with a knife. It would join the countless other scars that adorned your hands, your blood pooling into the bowl. It was no longer red, but as black as the night sky. 

High Mother Valarr stood above you, statue like- 

“Do you renounce all vanity, pride, self indulgence and love in order to serve our Gods without distraction?”

“Kessa.” Yes.  

“Do you swear utmost fealty to our Gods?”

“Kessa.”

“Do you swear to ensure with all of your power that the Song of Ice and Fire is fulfilled?”

“Kessa.”

“Would you die in service to our Gods?”

“Nyke jāhor. Issa glaeson iksos pōjon naejot gūrogon.” I will. My life is theirs to take. 

“Rise High Priestess of the Sacred Order of Visenya.”

Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you reach for your symbol of rank within the Order, wincing at the sharpness against your skin. It was Valyrian in design, a dragonglass diadem framing your forehead and cheekbones with curved points that pointed upwards past your head. With a final tie of your robes you descended down the Tower of the Order. On the ground floor Aera and Lesia were already seated. The usual pleasantries were exchanged, plans for later in the day and slips of gossip from the castle. 

“Enough idle chatter.” 

The atmosphere instantly sobered, spoons falling as everyone stood from their seats as High Mother Valarr strode into the room. 

“Sȳz tubis Eglie Muña.” Good morrow High Mother. 

“Sisters you may assume your duties for the day, High Priestess join me,” High Mother did not give you a chance to break your fast before she was already exiting the Tower. Lesia and Aera gave you encouraging smiles before returning to their bread. 

The golden rays of sun shone through the clouds that blanketed the sky, signaling the start of the day. Dragonstone now brimmed with life. In the distance you saw the young Princes, Jacaerys and Lucerys, making their way to training as they shoved each other jovially. In the halls you could hear the squeals of babes, maids rushing to and fro, members of court discussing news from every corner of King’s Landing. Although you had lived on Dragonstone for many years you had resided on its periphery, never truly being part of court life. Not that you minded, your life was filled with purposeful work and your Sisters were of good company. 

“His Grace, the King, has requested that you remain permanently at Princess Rhaenyra’s court here on Dragonstone. Lesia and Aera will be posted where they are needed in the coming moons,” High Mother Valarr explained as she guided you towards the Chamber of the Painted Table. 

“I am honored High Mother,” you nod, making sure to straighten your posture, hoping you exuded confidence in front of Princess Rhaneyra. The Realm’s Delight was as enchanting as she was fiery in her disposition. She had only ever been kind to you in your interactions but you still found yourself intimidated by her presence. After all she was the Heir to the Iron Throne, your very purpose was to serve her and her line. 

No announcement was needed, the stationed guards swung the heavy doors open at High Mother’s instruction. Entering the historic room you were met with a domestic picture; Princess Rhaenyra cupping the maroon velvet that encompassed her growing stomach, her other hand being held softly by Prince Daemon. It had only been a moon since she had announced the babe growing within her and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“High Mother Valarr. High Priestess,” Princess Rhaenyra greeted you with a charming smile. In contrast Prince Daemon wore a tepid look, giving you a half hearted nod that you only received as a result of spending countless hours with him in the hot tunnels searching for dragon eggs. 

“Princess, My Prince,” you bowed in practiced deference. 

“I have spoken with His Grace and we agree it is time that you have a High Priestess to serve you. I will continue to travel between Dragonstone and King’s Landing during this transitional period but I have utmost confidence in the council the High Priestess will provide you,” High Mother Valarr announced. 

Rhaenyra cannot help but clap her hands together, pleased at the prospect of having a new member of her court. “Please accept our most sincere congratulations, I understand this is quite an honor in the Order.” 

Before you could give your thanks, a mischievous smirk wormed itself onto Daemon’s face signaling the trouble those lips would bring. “I sometimes wonder why you and your little gaggle of sorceresses never took up permanent residence in King’s Landing,” Daemon tilted his head back leisurely. “Is your influence still limited by a certain Seven Pointed Star?”

If it had been anyone else you were sure High Mother Valarr would have slit their tongue but unfortunately you were all well accustomed to Daemon’s brand of thinly veiled disrespect. 

High Mother Valarr’s eye simply twitched. “We have always remained tolerant of other religions as you know Prince Daemon. If the Queen chooses to remain steadfast in her faith that is her choice. I simply offer guidance to His Grace.”

“How diplomatic of you,” Daemon grinned. 

Rhaenyra sent you both an apologetic look, moving to block Daemon from view as she stood from her seat. Unbeknownst to them High Mother Valarr’s hand moved beneath the fabric of her gown and all you hear next is Daemon’s curse - fuck! - as his cup of wine douses him.  

“As I was explaining to the Princess, we have elevated (Y/N)’s position to High Priestess. She will give you not only council but use her skills as is required. I’m sure His Grace explained our mission and what that entails.”

A blank expression appeared on Rhaenyra’s face. The fact that King Viserys had neglected to explain the vital history and importance of the Order did not come as a surprise to you or High Mother Valarr who simply pursed her lips. 

“I must insist we continue this conversation in private, Your Highness.”

“You will not kick me out of mine own-.”

“Husband, I am sure Jace and Luke would appreciate your help in training,” Rhaenyra sent him a pointed look, leaving no room for argument. With a petulant grumble he rises, wine dripping onto the stone, before exiting the hall with a slam of the door. 

Rhaenyra takes a moment to compose herself before continuing. “To be candid High Mother, my Father was quite vague.... he only revealed the prophecy once. I am afraid I am not well versed in the Order’s full purpose.” 

“I am sure with time you will see how useful the High Priestess is. Though I must temper your expectations Princess. Our abilities have limits, we cannot defy the will of the Gods.”

“By this you must mean...magic?”

Magic, sorcery, spellwork- its existence is often doubted and vilified but magic was at the very core of the Order. Abilities mortals could only dream of; endless possibility, endless power but ultimately controlled by the Gods themselves. Even casting a spell as simple as healing a scratch was at their pleasure. 

“Is it true what they say about you in particular?”

You jumped in place, so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed that Rhaenyra was now directly in front of you. “Pardon Your Highness?” you manage.  

“The reason for the gloves, it is said you can see things when you touch one’s skin,” Rhaenyra’s inquisitive eyes glanced down to your hands, covered in dragonhide gloves. 

“There is some truth to that Princess. If I touch your skin I cannot control what I may see. Only what the Gods allow me to see.” 

“I am curious what the Gods wish to reveal about myself.” 

“Princess, I do not wish to distress you or disappoint you.”

“Humor me.” 

It is clear she is testing you. What would the Gods show you? Her innermost secrets and thoughts? Her widely debated past? Endless questions swirled through your mind as you took off your glove, her own hand lifting the sleeve of her arm. No hesitation, the Gods will show you what is necessary. 

The instant your hand touched her wrist, visions filled your mind- Heart wrenching grief, betrayal as sharp as a knife. A babe brought forth before her time. Scales of the dragon. Death. Thunder and darkness, the flap of wings. The beating of a panicked heart. Valyrian floating in the air. Death. Endless rows of ships. Shouts and commands. Bloody arrows swallowed by the waves. Death. The moon beyond Kings Landing. An unbonded rider. Cries of the Mother. Death. 

A cold sensation washed over your body, overwhelmed by what you had seen. Sinister visions of future events all tied to her. Carefully you released your hand from Rhaenyra, placing your glove back on hoping she had not seen it tremble. 

“What did you see?” Rhaenyra whispered, eyebrows furrowing anxiously. 

From the corner of your eye you saw High Mother give an almost unperceivable shake of her head. Forcing your mouth into a false smile, you look her in the eye-  “Nothing Princess, nothing at all.”

The following weeks were a whirlwind, you had not been sure what to expect in your new role but you did not expect being so involved. From dawn until you returned to the Tower for bed you were at the side of one Targaryen or another. Days consisted of attending court alongside Princess Rhaenyra who received visiting Lords and emissaries or assisting her with overseeing Dragonstone. There was one person you were becoming quite close to. Prince Daemon had pulled you aside one afternoon and you soon found yourself at the side of Prince Lucerys, assisting him in his mastery of commanding Arrax. 

Lucerys had a sense of pride that rivaled his brother’s and it forbade him from seeking help when he began to struggle with commands, not wanting to appear as a weak dragonrider. For all of his mockery of the Order, Daemon could not deny the Order’s innate connection with dragons. The very magic that binded the Targaryens to their mounts came from those like you. 

At supper you had your own seat at the table, between Lady Rhaena who enjoyed your retellings of legends of Old Valyria and Prince Jacaerys who had taken to speaking to you in High Valyrian- or at least he tried to, quickly realizing he was not as fluent as he’d thought. It was becoming hard to resist the feeling of familiarity it all brought, it filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t known you longed for. 

It did not take long for the tranquility to be broken; a royal summons arrived by evening raven announcing there was to be a public questioning of Lucerys’ claim as heir of Driftmark. As Maester Gerardys read aloud the letter, Rhaenyra’s hands gripped the edges of the Painted Table harder with each passing moment, her eyes simmering with rage. Poor Lucerys attempted to appear unaffected but his shoulders seemed to fall with every word. Rhaena offered her cousin a hand to hold as a comforting gesture which he gratefully took. 

With the final word read from the letter it did not take long for Daemon to display his indignation, hands slamming onto the ancient table. “How dare they? Those bloody Hightowers must be dancing on the back of my dear brother at this opportunity. How dare that urchin attempt to discredit my son? To publicly question his position as heir, it brings to question his paren-,” Daemon snarls. 

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra cut him off. His words were not suited for all ears present before them, the forbidden topic of her son’s parentage was not to be spoken aloud. “I must confess I am not surprised the Queen and Lord Hand have decided to give credence to Lord Vaemond’s petition in such a public way. I do not wish to give it any further legitimacy by attending,” Rhaenyra announces, mouth twisting in displeasure. 

Mumbles of agreement break out from other members of her court present and you have no choice but to object. 

“Princess if I may,” you stepped forward. “It has been many years since your presence has been felt in King’s Landing. It will do well to remind them of your position as Heir to the Iron Throne and that of Prince Lucerys as Heir of Driftmark. They must see he has grown into a formidable Prince and dragonrider,” you speak up, sending Lucerys a nod of encouragement that seems to lift his spirits slightly. Rhaenyra took a few moments to mull over your words, exchanging a silent look with Daemon, the room silently awaiting her decision. 

“Your reasoning is sound, High Priestess,” Rhaenyra musters a tight lipped smile. “Maester Gerardys, send a raven back to King’s Landing. Notify them we shall arrive in two days' time.” 

It felt like a small victory, proving to be a capable counselor to Rhaenyra but you do not allow yourself to smile even as Daemon claps your shoulder on his way out. As everyone filtered out of the hall, you hadn’t noticed the figure in the corner who watched the interaction with narrowed golden eyes. Without warning you felt a presence behind you and as you spun around your stomach clenched uncomfortably at who stood before you. 

“It is good to see you after so long, High Mother,” you quickly bowed, hoping your tone did not betray your unease. 

Her eyes seem to pierce through you as she towers over you, her presence oppressing you. “It seems you have found your place at court. Princess Rhaenyra takes your enlightening guidance well,” she smiles coldly. “The others clearly trust you, you have become quite close with them from what I hear.” 

Her tone holds an accusation which you try to ignore. “It is only natural, I spend so much time in their company-.”

“Do not grow attached to them, our sacred mission lives beyond them. They are simply a means to an end.”

This time you are unable to quell the shock from your voice, “I do not know what you could possibly mean-.”

“I see it in the way you interact with them. You have a good heart, High Priestess but do not let it cloud your judgment. They are not your family or your blood.”

It is a harsh reminder and you look down at the ground in shame. “I understand High Mother.”

“Our mission is to serve them, yes but they are mere mortals. We must look ahead of them.”

I thought Targaryens were closer to Gods than men,” you can’t help the bite in your tone. 

Her hand suddenly seized your jaw, nails squeezing painfully into your skin as she pulled your head up. “And we are vessels of the Gods. Even the weakest amongst us are more powerful than the best of them,” she squeezes tighter. 

Your eyes widened in shock, every word out of her mouth a contradiction to what had been instilled in you; that the Targaryens were to be idolized and maintained in power at any cost. 

“Arrogance is their folly and downfall,” High Mother Valarr finally released you. “I shall see you in King’s Landing.”

Stumbling backwards you cupped your jaw, fingers smearing the dark blood seeping from your skin. Unable to form any words, you simply watched her go.

[timely-cronus]

I am demanding that you stay out of it, Niko, what he does from this point forward is my responsibility, not yours. The Foxwood boy's self-destruction is but a spoke on the time wheel and your personal connection to him will cloud your judgement. You see the visions, you don't move the chess pieces. In fact...keep your distance from him unless you care making his situation worse. Do you understand me?

Meddling. You would rather me leave Kai's destiny be and allow him to self-destruct, potentially unraveling time itself? I have never once overstepped my bounds in any way, but the things I've seen... his future is bleak and I'm trying to save it. More than this witch is at stake.

[cornsarts]

The man o war, commonly mistaken for a jellyfish, is a colonial organism made up of zooids that have different jobs in the colony. This animal has a reputation for its painful stings that can leave a human in agony for hours. Its venom is held in its tentacles that are used for hunting and paralyzing fish to eat. Despite the potent stings, there are some animals that are unaffected, such as the blue sea dragon, a kind of sea slug. These creatures feed on other animals found in the open ocean, including the man o war and other toxic siphonophores. Not only are they immune to the stings, the blue dragon stores the stinging cells from the man o war to use for its own hunting and defense.

[narsh-potatoes]

Phoenix Wright my best friend Phoenix Wright....

[monotone-artist]

hello please click images for better quality oh my god tumblr whyy

[id in alt]

maria shows shadow how to play dress-up (she's always wanted to do it with someone else)

thank u @fly-sky-high-09 for the request, i had a lot of fun with this hehe

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[coral-canary]

I need the world to see my vision of OCD An but the only way I feel I can accurately convey it is with this.

(There’s alt text if the text is hard to read, although idk if it’s formatted well….)

[samble-movedd]

"homura is an evil abuser who wants to control madoka and hates their friends" tired trope, canonically untrue, congrats on falling for the facade put up by a middle schooler.

"homura sees herself as inherently evil and abusive due to her upbringing, past actions, and status as a witch, which is still ongoing even at the end of rebellion" fresh, new, actually closer to canon, doesn't demonize a child for being mentally ill.

[angel-ghoul444]

⛥ the boy with the demon blood ౨♱ৎ

[soupmanspeaks]

something something headcanon Michael wrote a good amount of the Fnaf songs as a way of coping with the horrors™️ so like in his handy dandy notebook, right next to his plans of arson and vivid drawings of nightmares, it reads "I can see you there, warmth and life, why don't you share, it's been many years, stuck here living with out fears-" and it doubles as Michael trying to categorize all the information he's learnt and helping him process all this information and it gives this really funny visual of later on, Gregory asking Glamrock Freddy something from the past of Fazbear Entertainment or his previous family drama and then Freddy just starts humming and muttering "....mmm all stay strong, we live eternally, all is well in mmmmm pure insanity, mmmmm-AH!- here is your answer, Gregory! :333" no because imagine he shows Gregory "Too Far" (by CK9C) and Greg's like "Thats......a lot of yelling." "I was going through a rough time haha." -listens to it further before taking of the headphones- "...You good man?" "I'm really not, but we ball, Gregory."