#hopefully this stays! its tumblr after all

[verstakult]

they’re wiping out the charles vegas radio on twt but too bad for them i downloaded it so i will attempt to immortalize it online here (read more: transcript)

Bryan: "Pick up please." Charles: "Yes, whatever you want, as always" Bryan: "Charles, you did your job, okay, thank you” Charles: "Yeah, yeah, I did my job, but being nice fucks me over all the fucking time, all the fucking time. It’s not even being nice, it's just being respectful—" Fred: "Charles, Charles." Charles: "—I know I need to shut up but at one point it's always the same, so. Oh my fucking god." Bryan: "Okay. But anyway, you did the right thing for the team" Bryan: "And pick up please" Charles: "Yeah yeah, fucking pick up, what the fuck you want" Charles: "And the radio is on. I’m sorry, that was—”

[another-runaway]

Not my ex logging onto tumblr dot com to tell the most contrived, contextless version of the worst fights of our relationship to make herself appear like the delicate victim of my anger lmaooo

[rerefundslocals]

CLOSER TO YOU

Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.

>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader

>>genre : angst, smut , fluff

>>trope : established relationship

>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.

>>word count : I'll add later.

[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]

[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]

(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)

It's thick

The tension between you and jungkook.

You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.

It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.

Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.

You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.

"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.

Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get  home faster. There's no traffic tonight.

You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.

However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.

"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."

"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.

You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question

He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."

You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.

A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.

10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.

"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.

You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.

"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.

You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.

"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"

"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."

It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.

Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.

"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"

Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.

To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.

"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.

He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.

Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.

You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.

You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."

Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."

After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.

"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.

Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.

You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.

Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.

Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.

"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.

He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.

Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning  down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.

Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.

Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.

He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"

You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"

"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.

"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.

Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.

"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.

"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.

"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.

"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.

Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.

"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.

"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.

He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.

Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.

"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.

"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."

"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.

"Thank you, and I Love you."

"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.

There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖

Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...

Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel

I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO

Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋

-M. 🪭🪷

Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️

And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!

Little Body Big Heat

Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub

Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.

You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.

"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.

"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.

And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.

"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.

Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?

"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"

You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.

"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.

"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.

"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"

"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.

He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"

You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.

Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.

"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.

"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.

He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."

Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.

"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.

[seelestia]

⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[many-gay-magpies]

hello dead boy detectives fandom and bbc merlin fandom. i know there is a decent overlap between the two out there because i am either followed by or have followed several blogs myself that post about both merlin and dead boy detectives, so hopefully this finds its target audience. anyway a little while ago i became obsessed with the idea of merlin and kashi being besties, so i started writing a thing, and i don’t know if or WHEN i’ll finish the thing but i don’t want it to stay hidden until then so i am posting the incomplete and very unpolished version to tumblr. and who knows maybe if people like it that will give me the motivation to rewatch some merlin and actually finish it

anyways without further ado. here’s 1000 words of merlin engaging in (fairly mild) shenanigans in port townsend

—

There was a cat sitting on a rock.

Port Townsend had quite a lot of cats, Merlin had discovered. There had been at least one in sight at all times since he’d arrived in the small coastal town. This cat was regarding him with an expression that might have been called scrutinizing, had it been made by any face other than a cat’s. That is to say, it looked rather like cats typically do, which is scrutinizing as it is.

“Hello,” said Merlin, just to be polite. He had a bit of time before Kashi’s host—Angie, he’d said her name was—came to the surface, after all, and he was in the mood for a spot of conversation.

“Oh, great, it’s another o’ you English twats,” said the cat. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m visiting an old friend,” said Merlin. “We meet for tea every so often, to catch up. This’ll be my first time seeing his new place. I won’t be staying long.”

The cat settled further onto the rock, folding all four of its legs underneath its body. Its tail flicked lightly before curling around its haunches.

“Good,” it said. “Hopefully you won’t cause as much trouble as those two dead little shits from a couple months back. Brits, I tell ya—ain’t good for nothin’. The Cat King’s still hung up on the stuffy little asshole.”

Merlin hummed. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve met a king of cats before. What’s he like?” He’d met a number of kings in his times, including, quite recently, the King of Dreams—but that number had never included a king of Cats.

“None o’ your fuckin’ business,” said the cat. “Hold on—who are you, anyway? You don’t smell human, and you’re not dead.”

“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin. He thought it sticking his hand out for a shake, then thought better of it. “Pleased to meet you.”

The cat snorted. “What, like the wizard?”

“Warlock, actually,” said Merlin. “But yes.”

The cat opened its mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a whispered voice floating up from the shore.

Arthur’s voice.

“Merlin,” he called, his voice sounding exactly as it always had when Merlin did something far too stupid and risky for a servant, and he had to hide his worry under blankets of annoyance. “Merlin, are you there?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, again?” The cat grumbled. “There wadn’t even no storm last night!”

Merlin cleared his throat, shaking loose the small lump that had grown there at the sound. Kashi had warned him about Angie’s hunting techniques, so he’d known what to expect, but it was still something of a shock to hear in person.

“I think that’s my ride,” Merlin said. He turned to the cat and gave a little wave. “I’ll be off, then. Thanks for chatting with me!”

“Wha—hey!!” The cat exclaimed as Merlin turned and headed for the cliff. “No—Oi, stop that! Don’t—oh, brother…”

Merlin leaned over the stone barrier to peer down into the water, where a large light was pulsing visibly just below the surface. As he watched, his phone began to ring in his jeans pocket. He was still watching when he brought it up to his ear to answer.

“Hello, my friend!” Crackled Kashi’s enthusiastic voice from the end of the line.

Merlin squinted against the rays of sunlight lancing off the water.

“Is that you down there, Kashi?”

“Yes, it is me. And this is Angie! Say, hello, Angie!”

A loud, almost thunderous roar shook the sound, sending waves clawing at the sandy shore below.

“Hi, Angie,” Merlin shouted down to the creature. Then he waved. He doubted she could see him, but it didn’t hurt to be polite.

To Kashi, he asked, “How should I get in? Should I teleport?”

“Best not,” said Kashi. “Your style of teleportation might upset her stomach. Just jump down! She will catch you. Being swallowed is not the most pleasant feeling, but I’ve asked her not to chew on you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been swallowed before,” said Merlin, thinking back to a very particular instance with a giant snake in the Andes mountains. That was the time he discovered he could bounce back from being fully digested—although digging himself out of a pellet of giant snake dung after his body reformed inside it had not been fun.

“Are you there, Merlin?”

Merlin shuddered and shook his head to clear it of the discomfiting deja vu. “Yeah—yep. I’ll be right down. I just jump in?”

“Exactly, yes,” said Kashi. “It is not a far drop, so you should be fine.”

“Right,” said Merlin. “Well, see you in a minute, then.”

“Looking forward to it!”

Merlin hung up and deftly tucked the phone back into his pocket. Then, he climbed up onto the stone wall, and—after ensuring there was no one around to be traumatized by what it would seem like he was doing—performed an exquisite swan dive into the water.

Being swallowed was about as pleasant a feeling as Merlin remembered it being. That is to say, he felt rather how he imagined toothpaste being squeezed out of the tube might feel, had it possessed any of the five senses or been in any way alive. This time, though, he did not have to endure the process of being digested—which had taken nearly a month, given that Merlin’s first time being swallowed had been by a gigantic snake—and was instead spat out onto the floor of a large, warmly-lit cavern, drenched to the bone and coated in fish mucus.

A step up from being digested by a snake, all things considered.

“Eugh,” said Merlin.

It was then, of course, that Kashi appeared, stooping down and offering Merlin a hand to pull himself up with. Merlin took it and thanked him.

“Welcome in, welcome in!” Kashi said, grinning widely. “Sorry about the mess. I tried to clean up a bit before you came, but things got thrown around in the journey to the surface. Speaking of—“ he raised a finger, and the ground beneath Merlin’s feet—which was disturbingly hard and dry for being the stomach of a fish—began to shake. “—she seems to be going back to the bottom now. Come, sit, so you don’t lose your feet!”

“Nice place you’ve got,” Merlin said, allowing Kashi to lead him across the quaking floor to a small table near the back. “Definitely the best-furnished stomach I’ve ever been in.”

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Kashi agreed.

[arvandus]

Love and Duty - Chapter 3

Banner background made by me; do not copy or distribute without permission.

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: cisfem!Reader; canon adjacent (i.e., loosely-based); 18+ (Minors and ageless blogs DNI!); NSFW in future chapters; violence in future chapters (not against MC); deceit/lying; fake relationship (one-sided); pining; angst with a happy ending.

Chapter 2 (tumblr)

Chapter 3 on AO3

Love and Duty Chapter 3

wc: 6,566

You gave Diavolo your answer and you stayed for dessert.  At the end of the evening, Barbatos escorted you out of the castle.  You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes as he bowed and kissed the back of your hand to bid you good night.  No doubt you’d been hoping for a more personal good night kiss before stepping out into the evening air, but Barbatos couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He already had to pretend earlier this evening, and not just with a kiss. 

Your question had taken him by surprise and he’d been forced to answer in a way that wouldn’t ruin everything. He was grateful that you’d phrased the question in such a way that allowed him to find a bit of truth to coat his silver tongue.

Do I have you?

You did have him, he reassured himself.  You had his friendship, his trust, his support. 

He didn’t want you to fail; and not just for the sake of peace, but for your own well-being.  After all, even though he did not reciprocate the strength of your affections, that did not mean that he didn’t care at all.

The House of Lords’ treatment of you was unfair; anyone could see it.  And yet you chose to meet their prejudice with determination, grace, and stubbornness.  How could Barbatos not respect such strength?  But strength didn’t make you unbreakable.  So how could he not take notice of the way your duties weighed on your shoulders and suppressed your smile?  How could he see your suffering and not want to help alleviate it?

Regardless of the nature of your relationship together, Barbatos would be there to support you and offer guidance.  He would have done so anyway, had the two of you remained friends, and he saw no reason to not do so now, despite the new circumstances.

And maybe, secretly for him, helping you through this could serve as his own penance for the wrong he was committing; a silent apology for a betrayal that you would hopefully remain forever unaware of.

How badly he wished things were different... how badly he wished he’d had more time to make his choice.  How badly he wished he could have glimpsed into the future for guidance before risking not only his friendship with you, but the young prince’s future.

But he knew doing so would prove more or less fruitless.  His abilities, while seemingly limitless, had their own restrictions, particularly when it came to himself.  Barbatos suspected that it had something to do with being able to exist separate from the timelines; but no matter how many times he tried to look at himself in the timelines, it was always blank, like a blind spot in his mind.  It was akin to how one could easily see the faces of others but could not see their own without a mirror.  If he had been able to foresee his own future, his past self wouldn’t have made the mistakes he made, and he wouldn’t be here now, trying to correct them.

The more decisions Barbatos acted on, the blurrier the future around him became. And the more he involved himself, the more individuals directly impacted by those decisions became blurred themselves.  What resulted was a tapestry of time, of infinite pasts and futures, littered with dark holes. It was as if he were a moth, eating his way through the fabric, weakening its strength.

It was the very reason why Barbatos kept himself as a supporting role to the others. And it was the very reason why he only involved himself in major affairs if Diavolo ordered it.  Yes, he tutored the young prince and kept him in line, as any royal butler and steward was expected to do; but any and all decisions regarding the future of the Devildom were conducted by Diavolo alone.

Barbatos had lived long enough to grow accustomed to his limitations. He learned how to look for the blind spots within the different futures and use them as clues. It never told him directly what choices to make, but it did give him an idea of where he was meant to be.  He learned to live in the safe spaces, occupying the dark pockets of timelines that maintained their bright, clear futures.  It was how he’d found his place at Diavolo’s side, the reason he’d let the young prince lure him into the castle with the promise of rare tea so many millennia ago.

But this... he had no memory of this, despite how he had cross-checked the timelines repeatedly for Diavolo before the prince made his long-term plans. Was it because you’d had your own adventures with being yanked across multiple timelines and places? Were you touched too many times by his ability, moved from thread to thread, that now your own path was blurring like his own? Or was it something else entirely?

Either way, for the first time in thousands of years, Barbatos felt the irritation of his own restrictions. If he’d been able to see this coming, he could have prepared for it.  But he didn’t, and now here he was, trapped in a lie that he didn’t want to have any part in.

He had a plan, of course... a way to navigate out of these choppy, unchartered waters with minimal damage.  It would have to be carried out prudently, succinctly, like carrying a porcelain teacup filled to the brim without spilling.  Fortunately, his mind was as careful as his hands.  If conducted properly, not only would the future of peace remain secure, but he will not have to sacrifice your friendship.

...Hopefully.

But hope was a fleeting thing, short-lived on wishes and easily breakable by the harsh reality of words.

And no words cut through Barbatos’s fortress of a mind like the young master’s upon his return.

“Barbatos, I believe we should talk.”

Barbatos’s face remained schooled in neutrality, but he paused for the briefest moment.  It was enough to make the prince furrow his brow ever so slightly, the minuscule crack in the butler’s façade enough to confirm Diavolo’s rising suspicions.  Barbatos took it in stride as he calmly entered Diavolo’s drawing room.  After all, he was his loyal servant and oldest confidant. There were no secrets between them, their trust in each other absolute.

“Where would you like me to begin, my lord?”

Diavolo motioned for Barbatos to take a seat.  The butler acquiesced, his back straight and knees drawn closed with his fingers folded formally in his lap.

“How about from the beginning?” Diavolo replied.  “Start with the night of the ball.”

Barbatos’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  “You suspected even then?”

“There were signs, but I wanted to wait until tonight to be sure.”

“It pleases me to see that your powers of observation remain so keen.”

“I have had an excellent tutor,” Diavolo smirked.  “I don’t think anyone else noticed the subtleties that night except for myself.  But tonight was more obvious, particularly with her.  I would like to understand the situation as it stands now.”

“I thought you wanted to hear the story from the beginning,” Barbatos replied with a tilt of his head.  “Would you like me to discuss the past or the present?”

Diavolo narrowed his eyes. “Now is not the time for games, Barbatos.”

“You know as well as I that I do not play games, young master.  This is a teaching moment, as every moment is.  How you opt to question me will impact the type of information you receive, which will in turn influence your understanding and your opinion.”

However, this was more than just a teaching moment, too; it was a test.  Not just for how Diavolo chose to interrogate, but for seeing how willing he was to dirty his own hands, to bear the mantel of responsibility no matter how tarnished.  Ask about tonight’s dinner only, and Barbatos could play it off as a budding romance, a temporary fling, with the implication that he will handle the situation without the prince’s involvement.  That would allow the prince to play to ignorance should the situation derail in the future. But ask about the night of the ball, and the whole truth will be laid bare, a burden that would be shared between the two of them moving forward.

Fortunately, Barbatos raised him well.

Diavolo sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.  “Very well.  From the beginning, then.”

Barbatos nodded.  “As you wish, young master.”

He then began to recount the events of that first night in the piano room.

Barbatos kept the information to only the most relevant facts.  He omitted the song you played on the piano, he omitted the details of your frustrations with the brothers, and he omitted exactly how he romanced you.  He provided only the fact that you had been at your limit with your responsibilities and that the incident with Mammon and Asmodeus had pushed you beyond those limits.  He emphasized your desire to abandon your many positions and run back to the human realm.  It was in this delicate, fragile state that you had confessed your feelings for him, which forced him into making a very important decision.

As Barbatos spoke, Diavolo’s eyes narrowed, his voice grunted, his head nodded.  He listened silently, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips.

When Barbatos ended with the farewell earlier in the evening, Diavolo remained silent for a long moment.

“I see...” he finally muttered.  “I understand the decision; it might not have been the one I would have made, but I understand it nonetheless.”

Barbatos nodded in understanding.  He expected as much from the young prince; he always did have a dislike for lies thanks to his unique ability to see through them.  It made the awareness of the wounds they caused all the more intimate.

Avoid answers, yes.  Give noncommittal or enigmatic responses, acceptable. Omitting information, necessary.  But lies...

Lies were messy.

“Ah, how I wish I didn’t ask...” the prince muttered.  His golden eyes lifted to meet Barbatos’s placid green.  “I’m sure you’re also aware of the risks this presents us. Not just if she finds out that you – we’re – lying, but if anyone of note happens to see the two of you together...”

“Of course, young master.  I will proceed with the utmost caution.”

“Is there any value in using your abilities for guidance?”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment, his mouth pressing into a thin line.  He lowered his head the slightest fraction.  “I don’t think so.  I’ve explained to you before how I am unable to see my own future.  By proxy, I will be unable to see hers as well now that our paths are so intertwined.”

“I know you won’t be able to see her clearly anymore, but what about the realms themselves? What about the Devildom?”

“The various potential futures remain the same, young master.  That much is unchanged, as it’s already been seen.  But that gives us little to work with, as there are multiple possible outcomes, some less desirable than others. The deciding factor of what happens in this timeline will depend primarily on her influence.  If I cannot observe her, then I cannot anticipate the proper course.”

“Like knowing where the finish line is, but not knowing the route to get there.”

“Precisely.  The chances of her getting ‘lost’ are now much greater than before. Although, she may have already been veering off course prior to my influence...”

“How so?”

Barbatos was silent for a moment as he reflected back, his gaze distant.  “The way she was that night. I’d never seen her so...”

“Tired?”

“Hopeless.”

Diavolo let out a low, dissatisfied hum, his chin in his fingers as his eyes glazed over in pensive thought. “I had been noticing a shift in her as of late, but I had hoped it wasn’t so serious.  You said yourself that humans are often emotional.  Wasn’t there a chance that she was lost in the moment and would recover given time?”

“Yes,” Barbatos replied.  “And I was willing to let it play out as such, despite my concerns.  However, any possibility for that to happen was eliminated as soon as she confessed her feelings for me.  Had I refused her my lord, I truly do think she would have abandoned everything.  Being exhausted by one’s duties is one thing.  But having one’s heart broken in a moment of vulnerability is another entirely.”

Diavolo hummed and leaned back into his seat, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes to the ceiling. “I see, I see... and now here we are.  Are you sure your ability won’t work? Is there really nothing that can be done? You know I dislike leaving these things to chance, Barbatos.”

The risk of the prince’s disapproval was a cut to Barbatos’s pride; disappointing him was something Barbatos took great personal offense to.  He released a resigned sigh.

“I will check if you’d like me to, young master. Although I am certain the results will not be very fruitful.”

“Please do. Even if nothing comes of it, I must exhaust all avenues of potential knowledge before we determine how to proceed.”

Barbatos stood and bowed.  “Very well.  I will return promptly.”

Diavolo watched as the space behind Barbatos opened up into black smoky tendrils. They wrapped around him like a cloak and then he was gone.  Once the room was empty, Diavolo braced his forehead against his interlaced fingers, his thumbs at his temples.

“Please let him find something...” he muttered to himself.

—

The black was endless.  For anyone else, it would have been entirely unnerving if not panic-inducing.  For Barbatos however, it felt familiar, in the way one’s homeland felt familiar after not setting foot on its soil for so long.  Beneath his feet he felt hard surface, and from it he could sense how it led off to infinite walkways. And yet, it was a space filled with contradiction as there was no up or down, or side to side.  There was only the Here and the There, the Now and the Not Now. Barbatos’s feet began to walk slowly, carefully.  It wasn’t so much a risk of falling, but that simply he had to remain focused on where he came from and where he wanted to go.  As he walked, the air hummed with power, and he stretched out his hands, fingers splayed, as if caressing invisible grass in an invisible field.

He could feel them.... the multitude of threads belonging to countless souls, stretching infinite.  They hummed with life, twisting together with one another and then parting outward as innumerable individuals were born together, lived together, died together.  In and out the threads weaved, creating infinite ropes of fate, making up the Tapestry of Time upon which Barbatos navigated.  They were taut, vibrating like music notes that couldn’t be heard, in a symphony that played for no one.

No one but himself.

He felt the distinct snap of a timeline being cut, reaching its end.  It wasn’t unusual... not all timelines led to happy endings, the worlds within collapsing on themselves.  Still, it left a dull ache in him, as if some part of him had been lost, gone forever like a boat cut from its mooring.

His footsteps finally slowed to a halt, and he stared in front of him into the blackness. He’d gone back just far enough to revisit the beginning, where he was forced to make his decision a few nights prior.  His hands came up in front of him and he parted the air with open palms and long, slender fingers. It was as if he’d taken the rope of time and unraveled it, individually laid out the threads that made it so that he may seek out your thread, the one kissed with golden light and thrumming with power.  The space before him began to ripple and shimmer, light being borne from nothing but simply his will to See.

Light faded to colors and shapes, countless images entering his mind simultaneously, and yet he understood all of them as if he’d watched them individually. Not that it mattered one way or another; time had no meaning here. He could linger as long as he needed to and then return to the When and Where he had left.

Barbatos’s eyes narrowed as he watched.

He saw the moment of where the demonus had spilled all over you, watched as you left the ballroom.  But the waters muddied after that, no doubt due to his own influence. Your golden thread had gone dark, overshadowed by his own.  The only sign of its presence was the steady hum of power that your soul emanated.

He tried to follow the dark strands, to see where they led, waiting for them to clear.  Some cleared quickly, his influence in your life vanishing, and he suspected that those were the timelines where he had been honest with you.  He looked closer, drank in their stories to confirm you back in the human world, alone and heartbroken.  And the Devildom?  Barbatos pulled the threads back together, zooming out to see beyond your human life.  A multitude of futures lay ahead, but as he suspected, most of them were bad; the failure of the exchange program, the three worlds returning to their isolation and prejudice...

He returned to the beginning, and followed the threads that remained dark, shrouded in mystery.  They were invisible roads that bore no street signs or streetlamps, dark pathways that left him blind.

On and on they all went, branching, breaking into more and more infinite possibilities.  In some of them that familiar warm hum of your thread was cut short, leaving empty cold in its wake.  In those moments, he knew your life had ended, and yet he couldn’t learn why, his influence too great, his life too entangled with yours.  It left a heavy sense of unease, a fear of the unknown that he didn’t often experience.

Farther and farther he searched.  Now the threads of life started to split, with some continuing out into that never-ending darkness with their secrets wrapped tight by decisions he had yet to make, and others finally becoming visible.  With relief, he pulled them close, searched their depths.

You were there, alive but alone.  And you weren’t in the Devildom anymore. You were back in the human realm, with a heavy sadness in your eyes.

And the realms...?

Once again locked in stagnation.

Barbatos’s jaw clenched.

He returned to the other threads, the ones that were still shrouded, and yet they went on and on, cloaked in darkness. How long did he remain entangled with you?  What happened in those threads that kept him by your side so intricately for so long?

They were questions that would never receive answers, not until he lived them and learned it in those moments.

Again, he widened his view, took in the bigger picture of the futures that were possible.  They were hazy, but they were there, and it was the reassurance he needed.  There was hope in them, some of them ending in success while others did not.  But there was no way to know for certain which future the present would lead to, the power of his presence hiding far too much for far too long.

For a cold, lonely, tense moment, Barbatos froze, dumbfounded.

Was this it? Were these his only options now? Either a future of failure or a future of ambiguity?

No, there had to be more.  If need be, there was still the original paths, the ones he’d traced out millennia ago when the prince was first laying out his plans.

He returned to the beginning again and searched.

And searched.

There were countless variations of how that night’s events transpired.  In some of them you were left alone, and you eventually went home to nurse your wounded spirit.  In others, one of the brothers found you, each having their own variations of how they approached you in the privacy of that piano room.  Even Simeon went to you in some of the timelines, and Solomon...

But what surprised Barbatos the most was how so many of the variations faded into that oh-so-familiar darkness.  Barbatos himself must have been the one to find you the most, and it was a curiosity he found himself lingering on.  From a practical standpoint, it made sense as he knew the castle better than anyone else.

But there was also a small sense of... warmth. After all, you didn’t venture out to the royal gardens, or walk the quiet late-night streets of the Devildom, or return to the House of Lamentation.  Instead, you went to the piano room, where the memory of your time with him brought you comfort. 

It was his growing friendship with you that allowed him to find you so many times in the first place.

The faintest hint of selfish pride flared within him, and Barbatos froze for a moment.

It wasn’t often that his Sins presented themselves so noticeably. In fact, he’d learned long ago to keep such imperfections under tight control.  To have them stir now of all times...

Strange.

But it vanished as quickly as it came, so he returned his attention to the threads before him.

All at once, he watched, learned, understood.

In most instances, at least the ones he could see that were free of his influence, you stayed in the Devildom.  The emotional turmoil you suffered that evening waned by morning and was later quelled by the brothers’ sincere apologies and kind gestures. 

It was just as Diavolo had said.  Barbatos took comfort in knowing that the prince knew your spirit so well.

Barbatos scanned the infinite spiderweb of visible futures, futures where he played his role as he was intended to, minimal and from the sidelines, small pockets of dark that blurred the edges around the others, Diavolo especially.  And you were there too, the light to Barbatos’s shadow, twining with everyone else’s threads, strengthening the bonds.

His eyes narrowed the further he looked.

You stayed, but in far too many of the timelines you suffered, alone and overwhelmed.  In some of them, you even buckled, and so did the exchange program.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder about you in this timeline, emotionally drained and mentally fragile.  Was that to be your future?  Would you break under the heavy weight of prejudice and politics?

Barbatos’s gaze went even further, following the various branches, and warm relief washed over him.

There was still hope.  Not all the futures ended in loneliness and failure. In many of them, you succeeded. It was often ones where you found love in another, where the support of a partner, or even partners, helped to ease your burden.

They were still here... the futures he’d seen so long ago when assisting the young master in plotting out his path for peace, bright and untarnished.  It worried Barbatos that it took him so long to locate them, but he was relieved to see them still intact, still a possibility within the great web.

The relief was short-lived as he pondered their significance.

Should this situation with you fail and take the young master’s vision with it, then Barbatos knew he would have to choose one of these timelines, something safe where his influence didn’t taint the grand plan.  That route would become the Primary, the one that everyone would walk moving forward.  It would remain the present, but it would be borne from a different past where different decisions were made.

In that sense, the you of this thread and everyone else would cease to exist.

The souls would remain the same, as souls were infinite by nature and occupied all timelines simultaneously during their lifespan.  But deletion of a pathway was the deletion of memories, memories made beyond the point of junction where the severing would occur.  Everyone’s spirit would remain the same, but their minds would forget, replaced with the experiences of a different path filled with different decisions.

Everyone would forget... except for Barbatos.  He would remain untouched, remember all of it. He alone would hold the memories of a past that no longer existed; moments of joy, times of sadness, periods of growth.  He’d remember his failures, too; the decisions he made that were the catalyst to losing yet another pathway.

That old, familiar empty ache crept into his chest, settling between his ribs. It was a sadness that never really left him, a burden he had to bear for being who and what he was. He acknowledged its presence and then promptly pushed it back to its resting place within himself, cataloguing it with all of the other countless times he had, in some way, lost those he cared for.

It couldn’t be helped.  Duty first. If the prince ordered it, he would obey.

He stared at the stories of past, present and future a moment longer.  Then he slowly, gently swiped his fingers across the space in front of him.  The timelines rippled, the images faded back into blackness.  There was nothing left to gain here.

---

Barbatos was only gone a moment before he reappeared.  Diavolo looked up at him from his seat with curious golden eyes.

“Well? Did you find anything?”

“As I suspected, young master.  The future you desire remains intact; however, I’m unable to see a clear path to it.”

“Hmm. I see...” Diavolo replied pensively, his gaze distant.  Barbatos’s lingering silence hovered, making the air thick between them, and Diavolo looked back up at him.  “....what is it?”

Barbatos’s brow creased.  “The future you desire remains... however, there are a great many opportunities for the current path to go astray.”

“And, because of your involvement, you’re unable to tell which actions you will need to take to get us to the right finish line.”

“That is correct.”

“Well,” he sighed, “that is quite a conundrum.”

Barbatos’s face fell into melancholy.  “I sincerely apologize, my lord. Had I known—”

Diavolo held up his hand and shook his head.  “There was no way to know, Barbatos.”

“If I had not volunteered to find her—”

“Then I would have sent you anyway.  Besides, I granted you permission.  If anyone is to blame for this, let it be me.  Were you able to see what would have happened if you refused her?”

“Not initially.  But in some timelines our threads parted shortly after that night, which I suspect was the result of such a decision.  Once I was no longer present, I was able to observe.  She returned to the human realm.”

“Permanently?”

“Yes, although she maintained relations with the celestial realm thereafter, and the brothers opted to visit her from time to time.”

“And the exchange program?”

Barbatos’s only response was a heavy silence and the most subtle shake of his head.  Diavolo hummed.

“I see.  Well, at least you can take comfort in knowing that you made the correct decision given the situation.”

“Yes, young master.”

“You don’t sound very relieved.”

Barbatos finally returned to his seat on the sofa, the weight of his guilt too great. This time, he allowed his professional poise to fall away, allowing himself a quiet moment of vulnerability in the prince’s presence in the form of downcast eyes and heavy shoulders.

“The knowledge, while helpful, does not solve our current predicament.  It seems that in many cases, her and I remain closely tied after her confession.  It makes much of the future... unpredictable.”

“Which will make it nearly impossible to navigate.”

“That is correct.”

Diavolo went quiet for a moment, his chin in his fingers.  His golden eyes went from pensive to troubled.  “Can it be undone? If we end up on the wrong path, can it be replaced?”

“Of course, young master.  Whatever you desire.”

Diavolo nodded.  “Good. That is good.  We could select a timeline where someone else retrieved her that night instead of you. Then this whole situation may be avoided.”

Barbatos knew his young master would come to such a conclusion, and yet hearing the words from his mouth made his skin tingle, a chill running down his spine.  He loathed the subconscious resistance that pushed against the locked door of his mind, and he forced it back with a subtle, inhaled breath through his nose.

He had to remain impartial.  He was devoted to the prince entirely, and so he must not withhold any knowledge that can impact success.

“On the contrary, my lord,” he said slowly, “the chances of success from that point were adequate, but not as reliable as they once were.  In many of them she remained isolated, and I can’t help but wonder if it may have been due to her unspoken feelings for me.  If you want to properly secure the future you seek, then it may be best to replace it with a timeline that branches off even earlier.”

Diavolo’s throat rumbled low, his gaze dark, and Barbatos knew he did not enjoy where this was going any more than Barbatos did.

“How early would you recommend?” he finally asked.

“To before she developed feelings for me in the first place.  Granted, we have no way of knowing for sure when that was.  But her and I had begun to spend more time together over the past six months. So I believe selecting a timeline that breaks off to prior that would be sufficient.”

Diavolo’s eyes snapped up to Barbatos’s, his eyebrows raised.  “Six months??” his expression neutralized as his gaze dropped and grew distant.  “That is quite a difference indeed.”

A heavy silence followed, neither demon wanting to move forward with such a permanent decision, and yet the threat of failure loomed like a storm on the distant horizon.

Diavolo let out a long sigh and returned his eyes to Barbatos.  “Tell me... What would you like to do?”

Barbatos stared at him, noting the subtle softness in his expression. His features lost some of their sharpness, his eyebrows upturned at the corners in silent worry.

His familial love for Barbatos was impacting his reasoning, shifting him from responsible ruler to soft-hearted youth.

Barbatos would have none of it. He refused to let his young master jeopardize everything for the sake of him.

Even so, the next words he spoke were far more difficult to say than he had anticipated.

“If we are to err on the side of caution, then I would recommend replacing this timeline with a safer option.”

Diavolo’s strong jaw set in a stubborn jut, his gaze piercing.  “I did not ask for your recommendation, Barbatos. I asked for what you wanted.”

Barbatos frowned.  “Young master, what I want or don’t want is irrelevant. Not with so much at stake.”

“I am perfectly aware of what is at stake.  However, I don’t think this situation requires such drastic measures just yet.  You yourself stated the future is still possible, even if we may not know exactly how to get there.  And how this would impact you is very much relevant, at least to me.”

“You are letting sentiment cloud your judgment.”

“Perhaps...” Diavolo admitted. “But unlike you, I don’t see it as a bad thing.  The happiness of my citizens is my responsibility, and that includes you as well, Barbatos.”

“Your success is all the happiness I need, young master.”

Diavolo gave a wear sigh and broke his eye contact to stare down at his intertwined fingers.

“You say that, and yet... I know what this will cost you. It’s a loss that no one else will suffer once the changes are made, not even myself.  That hardly seems fair.  And since you are the only one who will pay that price, I think that what you want is a valid question.  So I ask you again, Barbatos.  What would you like to do?”

Diavolo knew everything there was to know about Barbatos’s abilities; he had to in order to be able to utilize the butler’s unique skills to their maximum potential.  It was a knowledge that Barbatos had shared willingly, once he knew the prince was ready for such responsibility. 

Never before had Barbatos regretted sharing the details of his powers... until now. 

Because Prince Diavolo was right.  Barbatos had gone through this many times, and yet the pain of each remained. And, he supposed, in some ways it wasn’t fair. But fairness was not something he sought for himself; not after the wrongs he’d done across so many lifetimes. 

The prince’s love for him felt undeserved, and yet he cherished it just the same.

Barbatos was silent for a long moment.  “You are far too soft, young master.”

“As you always tell me,” Diavolo smiled.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder what made the young prince so stubborn, his moral compass so resolute.  But for the first time in a long time, Barbatos allowed himself to reflect on his own desires, lured by the promise that what he wanted and what his prince wanted could be one and the same.

Barbatos sighed. “Very well. I would like to keep along this path and try to salvage the current situation.”

Diavolo’s smile went from wry amusement to beaming joy.  “Great! Then it’s settled-”

“Not quite,” Barbatos interrupted, his eyes narrowed.  “We must discuss what will happen if I should fail.”

Diavolo gave a roll of his eyes.  “I believe that goes without saying, but very well. If you do fail, then rest assured, we will remedy the situation by replacing this path with a different one. There. Does that help to ease your worries?”

Barbatos allowed himself a small smile.  “It does.”

“Splendid.  Because I don’t think you’ll fail anyway.”

“It flatters me that you hold me in such high regard, young master.”

“You are always the one with a plan, are you not?” Diavolo teased with a raise of his eyebrow.  Then his amusement faded briefly to reveal the worry beneath.  “You... do have a plan, yes?”

Now Barbatos did smile.  “Of course. As I said before, there are many branches ahead of us where my thread remains intertwined with hers for longer than expected.  However, this can mean many things.  It can mean that this false relationship goes on for some time, possibly even years.  Or, it could mean that we come to an end amicably, after which I remain heavily involved in her life on a platonic level until such a time that I can naturally fade myself back.  That would be the ideal outcome.”

Diavolo hummed. “End amicably... and how do you plan to do that?”

 “Time, young master.”

“Time?”

Barbatos nodded. “Yes. You know better than anyone how many responsibilities I carry.  It leaves very little room for much else. Add in the pressures of secrecy, and I’m certain she will grow weary of me soon enough once this initial phase of excitement ends.”

Diavolo’s golden eyes glittered. “I see. So you plan to run out the clock, so to speak, rather than putting an end to it directly.”

Barbatos nodded again in affirmation.  “The only way for this to end with minimal damage is if she is the one to end it. It must be her idea. It’s the best way to ensure her ability to move on and find someone more suited for her in the future.”

“Are you sure that will work? You know how stubborn she can be...”

“Yes... she can be quite patient, and persistent to boot.  However, humans’ lives are short.  I’m certain that at some point, she will recognize that her years are being wasted in a secret relationship that can never fully develop.  Not to any fault of our own, but to the cruelness of circumstance.”

The worry returned to Diavolo’s eyes as he stared at Barbatos.  “And if this plan of yours does take years? Or, worse, what if she never gives up? What then?”

“Then I will remain with her, whether it be a year or a human lifetime.  You may consider it my penance for my error. However, I don’t anticipate that it will last that long.”

“What makes you so sure?”

There was a quiet pause as Barbatos gathered his words carefully.  “I do not take joy in this deceit, young master.  In fact, I find it quite troubling.  I may not be able to return her feelings with the same ferocity, but I do value her and respect her.”

Something flashed in Diavolo’s eyes, but it was brief, gone in an instant. “You care for her.”

Barbatos found the look discomforting and averted his eyes to the fireplace where the flames danced.  “On a platonic level, yes.  As such, I will not take advantage of her. And I suspect she will only wait for so long before the lack of intimacy between us becomes a problem too big to ignore.”

Diavolo joined Barbatos in staring at the fire.  “I see. And you will use the excuse of your busy schedule and the danger of prying eyes as a way to avoid such situations.”

“Precisely.”

Diavolo gave a tired, drawn-out groan and slouched back into his chair, his eyes closed.  “It all sounds very complicated. It makes me exhausted just hearing about it.” His eyes opened and fresh mirth danced in them.  “I feel it would have almost been easier if you actually did have feelings for her. Then we’d only have to worry about keeping the relationship private from others, rather than lying to her as well.”

Barbatos’s expression soured.  “Do not joke of such things, young master.”

Diavolo barked a laugh. “You speak as if falling in love would be a bad thing!”

Barbatos could barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes.  “Political complications aside, such a thing would be more burden than blessing. It would distract from my duties and require time that I do not have.”

“Perhaps some distraction would be good for you,” the prince winked.

Barbatos’s smile turned icy.  “If this is your way of trying to get out of doing your paperwork, then it is a poor attempt indeed.  I assure you, young master. My loyalty and focus lies entirely with you.”

“Yes, I was afraid you’d say that...” Diavolo threw his arms up dramatically. “Very well, have it your way then. Keep yourself isolated and lonely forever.”

A bit of an exaggeration, considering how often Barbatos found himself in the company of others. A small, dry smile curled the corners of his lips, never reaching his eyes.

“Thank you, my lord.  Now, the hour is late.  I do believe it is time for me to prepare your bath.”

“Yes, please.”

Barbatos left the drawing room to begin preparations. As soon as he was out of earshot of Diavolo, he let out a deep sigh as the weight of dread eased slightly from his chest, no longer suffocating.  The knowledge that he would not have to replace this timeline just yet brought a sense of relief so strong that it unconsciously pulled his lips into a smile as he began to run the bathwater.

His prince was trusting him, giving him a chance to repair what he’d broken.  The gesture touched him deeply.

He only hoped he could deliver.

Tag List: @slayersins @doumadono @silverrings-n-prettythings

[starniolosposts]

behind the fame (1)

part one, part two

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you are starting to drown in your life, from your job to your trauma— and don’t see a way out. then chris sturniolo comes into your life.

warnings: abusive behavior, inappropriate behavior, manipulation, abuse of authority (none of this is from chris)

notes: this is my first story/first time posting on tumblr so be nice :) and hopefully you guys like it

your heartbeat echoes in your ears as well as the loud commands from the photographer. your body moves on autopilot, listening to the strict instructions from your manager and photographer behind the expensive camera flashing into your eyes.

you uncomfortably shift, face crinkling in embarrassment as everyone looked at your exposed body. you wanted to cover yourself with your arms, but knew you would get punished for it. you also wanted to decline the shoot for the lingerie brand in the first place, but your manager had forced you to agree to it.

"almost perfect pose! suck in your stomach a little more— yep! stay right there!"

you suck in your already (unhealthily) flat stomach and ignore the burning and aching pain of hunger shooting through you. you hadn't ate all day and don't remember the last time you had a full nutritional meal.

"alright, lunch break everyone! we'll have you try on one more set before being finished for the day. thank you for accepting this shoot, by the way. and sorry for being demanding, i was kind of taught to work that way." the man behind the camera smiles sheepishly, and you feel more at ease at his explanation.

you wave him off and finally relax your tense body. "ah, i get it. this industry needs strictness." you try and smile, but its strained.

your manager is silent as you make small conversation with the photographer, and you can't help but feel like its the calm before the storm. its always like that with him. it builds up so much until you were both alone and he releases all his pent up emotions.

your manager finally speaks up. "lets go to change into the next set, y/n." he says, then smiles at the photographer as you walk away to the changing rooms, his hand gripping onto your shoulder painfully.

you gulp at the silence as you open your changing room and close it behind the both of you. you remember to lock it like he taught you.

"did you eat before the set?" the question from him is random, but makes you nervous. you wonder if there is a right answer before deciding to be honest.

"no, i only drank water today." you whisper, now covering up your almost entirely exposed breasts with your arms. you don't miss the way his eyes dart across your body.

his dark eyes then glance down at your stomach and become narrowed. "it doesn't look like it. you have bloating in your lower stomach, its really visible."

it's humiliating and degrading, making your cheeks flush and small tears to fill your waterline. you make sure to keep them at bay so he doesn't notice. the last time he saw you cry didn't go well.

"uhm.. i'm sorry." you mutter, looking down at your stomach and frowning.

he sighs before patting your shoulder, keeping his hand there to massage it. you tensed and stayed frozen in your spot. "its alright, just remember to suck it in. and remember to not eat anything after 5pm tonight, and nothing tomorrow morning. we have another shoot at 7am."

you want to speak up for yourself. you want to say how absurd his demands are, but don't. you force the words down and instead obediently nod in agreement, making him grin. you'd rather sacrifice your own well being and make him happy than disagree with him and make him angry.

your managers name is cayden anderson. he was a couple years older than you, you are 21 and he is 26. you’ve known him since you were 16 though.

your mom had hired him after your modeling career had become a more serious thing. after that, you never really connected with either of your parents on a deeper level, so you didn’t feel like you could go to them for concerns or problems you had. you felt like you had to just do it yourself.

that mentality applies to your relationship with cayden. you just dealt with it yourself, and felt like you didn’t have anyone to turn to.

a knock on the door makes cayden step away from you, and to your relief, his cold hand leaves your shoulder as well. “yes?” he responds.

“shoot starts in 3 minutes.”

“she’ll be right out!”

cayden looks at you like your stupid. “well? get undressed, you have to wear the other lingerie set.”

you nod, but then pause, humiliation burning in your eyes as you look into his amused ones. “can you turn around?” you whisper.

he rolls his eyes before sighing and turning around. “its nothing i haven’t seen, but alright.”

your stomach churns from horrific memories popping up in your brain from his words. you shake your head and quickly get ready for the next shoot in silence.

first part of this story! be patient with me i don’t know how to really work tumblr yet lol, and yes i know we dont get chris yet but you will soon ;)

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

[gareleia]

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT ODY PULLS A BRUCE WAYNE

update: my co-writer friend FINALLY got a tumblr account, so I can tag them now!!

previously: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

okay, bear with me for a moment. odysseus' perspective in all of this would be fascinating. and you know what is also fascinating? the way we can do whatever we want in this AU. so we can and will keep baby Astyanax alive.

to start with, Ody doesn't kill the baby. obviously. the reason is that, while he's having his fascinating little soliloquy about the morality of child murder in JAM, some terrified nursemaid that had been hiding somewhere in the room (I imagine her behind a conveniently shaped vase) picks up a dagger and stabs him in the shoulder from behind.

obviously she fails to do the deed, and he quickly and almost automatically kills her. but he's still stabbed. non-lethally, but enough to greatly hinder him.

Ody decides to go back to his people to get first aid. he can't bring himself to kill the baby, but he also can't just leave it there for others to find, because there's no telling if the remaining Trojans would rescue the boy, or if the Greeks would take him as a prisoner/slave or adopt/lose him somewhere where Odysseus can't ensure Zeus' prophecy won't come true. so Ody takes the baby with him.

the soldiers are,,, not impressed.

Eurylochus, looking at the infant: so, uh. what do you have here, captain? Odysseus, avoiding eye contact at all costs: a smoothie-

Eurylochus in particular is beside himself thinking about the implications. but overall people are too happy about finally going back home to really make much of a fuss about it, so it's fine (for now).

anyways Odysseus is still on edge about the baby's (and everyone else's) safety, so at first he tries to bring the boy with him everywhere. but his injured shoulder doesn't allow him to actually carry the kid too much. so that job falls to Eurylochus.

Eurylochus is soooo enthusiastic about the prospect, especially when the infant starts biting his chest, trying to nurse.

the baby: h o n g r y eurylochus: ARGH! GET YOUR GODS' DAMNED KID, BRO! odysseus: it don't bite eurylochus: YES IT DO

Odysseus prohibits everyone from using the baby's real name, both to keep its origins a secret from potential enemies, and to avoid getting attached to it (in case he actually decides he wants to kill it). so Eurylochus nicknames the baby Aphe, from greek "αφαιμάσσω", which means "to leech". because the damn brat keeps biting him.

eventually he and Poletes get into a heavy debate about whether or not it's mean to call a baby a bloodsucker, and Ody, who'd been having a crisis of faith, steps in and settles it for good.

from this point on, Astyanax the Prince of Troy is officially dead. and Odysseus is bringing home his infant son Aphemachus the Prince of Ithaca. etymology is somewhere along the lines of: afaimasso (to leech) + machos (war) = Aphemachus (the blood-sucking war; the war that sucked our blood)

Eurylochus is the one who Aphemachus had gotten attached to the most, due to all the carrying (and the biggest boo). He cries all the time when they're apart, and only Poletes seems to somehow be able to distract the boy, so they end up watching him in shifts.

aphemachus: *wailing in the dead of night* eurylochus, groaning: poletes, your leech is awake. poletes, also groaning: until the sun is up it's your leech.

Odysseus at the same time is still having doubts, so he doesn't trust himself to be too close to the baby.

those thoughts will haunt him for years, and will eventually play a huge role in their relationship, even after Ody starts forcing himself to spend time with his new son to forge a bond that would hopefully stop Aphemachus from destroying Ithaca.

Aphemachus indirectly saves Poletes' life. because when they reach the cyclops' island, Poletes stays behind with the majority of the soldiers to look after the baby. as a result Polyphemus doesn't kill him.

the downside is, Polyphemus almost gets a drop on Odysseus, and in an effort to push him away from danger Eurylochus gets severely injured. his right shoulder never quite recovers, and very deep down he blames Odysseus for needing help in the first place, because not freezing up in battle is the first and most important lesson they were taught as children, and then Ody went and froze up anyway.

sidenote, in Mutiny later on Odysseus will intentionally aim for said shoulder, exploiting the weakness that Eurylochus will have been very put out by and insecure about. just to add to the overall drama.

what none of them know yet, is that Odysseus had royally pissed off Zeus by ignoring his 'friendly advice' of infanticide. so much so, in fact, that Zeus tasks Ares with ensuring that Aphemachus grows up to destroy Ithaca.

as a result, poor kid grows up with the voice of bloodthirsty God of War in his head, constantly trying to convince him that everyone secretly hates and wants to kill him, that he's been stolen from Troy for nefarious purposes, and that it's his duty to avenge his REAL family. so, basically, your standard run-of-the-mill gods-induced paranoid schizophrenia.

odysseus: so, what do you want for dinner? ares: YOUR HEAD ON A SPIKE aphemachus: a bagel ares: NOOO aphemachus: two bagels

as you can guess, the poor boy's mental health is... Not Great™. he grows up a difficult kid, sensitive, too smart for his own god, prone to angry outbursts. think a cross between Damian Wayne and Jason Todd. he's also very paranoid, and remember that Odysseus still has doubts? Aphemachus can sense that, and that scares and angers him more, which makes him lash out, to which Odysseus also tries to keep his distance even more. he doesn't have much experience at actual hands-on parenting, and it doesn't help that he's not sure if he has a right to act as a father to the boy he had indirectly orphaned and directly almost killed.

poletes, exasperated: aphe, dear, we've talked about this. you know violence is never the answer, right? aphemachus: right. aphemachus: violence is the question, and the answer is YES-

so the most consistent positive influence Aphemachus has in his life are Eurylochus, Polites, Perimedes and Elpenor - until the latter dies and Perimedes decides to stay away.

Eurylochus is the stone-faced stern mother hen. he's the one that makes lists upon lists in his head of what the baby, and later toddler, needs. he enforces bed time, makes him eat as healthy as possible on the ship, etc. as such, his status as 'favorite' is quickly revoked once the kid grows old enough to complain.

the new favorite is Poletes, who spoils Aphe rotten and has a hard time saying no to anything. he's the fun uncle who's always down to play games.

Perimedes and Elpenor are like semi-responsible older brothers, who teach him about all kinds of stuff. Perimedes is the type to give Aphe lots of different chores to keep him occupied, and Elpenor, in contrast, tends to whisk the kid away to get him to relax and unwind. he also likes to teach Aphe about stars and constellations. meanwhile Peri 100% had handed toddler Aphe a knife as a prank to test everyone's situational awareness (think Stabby the Roomba), and got shit from everyone.

eurylochus: let me see what you have! aphe: a knife! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ eurylochus, going through all stages of grief simultaneously: NO!

Ares, while he detests lying and 'cheating', doesn't want to wait until Aphe grows up to make him wreak havoc. so instead he starts trying to trick the kid into accidentally causing bloodshed. and most of the time he targets Polites, because the peace-loving fool is an affront to everything Ares stands for.

this results in Aphe often running in between someone's legs at most unfortunate times, spilling liquid where people walk frequently, hiding fish hooks in food as a 'joke'…

it comes to a head with a contraption born out of every inch of cunning Ares possesses (not much), all Aphe's wild child imagination and many of Perimedes' trap-making lessions. it's a glorious thing, straight out of something between Home Alone and the Final Destination series.

Nobody ever really catches him, blaming the near-accidents on pure bad luck. Poletes never once notices that something is amiss, thinking he's just clumsy. the only reason he's still alive is because Elpenor is somehow always there to run interference.

Elpenor is the only one to suspect Aphe, but, since he's a dumbass alcoholic, nobody believes him, even his boyfriend Perimedes. Ares gets fed up with this and starts making Aphe target Eple instead, but before anything could really be done Ruthlessness happens, and they come to stay with Circe.

elpenor: I fear no man aphe: (✿◠‿◠) elpenor: but this thing… this thing scares me

it's only after Elpenor's untimely death that Perimedes starts to take his concerns seriously, but it's too little, too late. it's actually an honest to gods accident that Aphe has nothing to do with, but Peri had sat through so much paranoid, drunken rambling from Elpe that it just clicks to him. he blames Aphe, and, despite not voicing his concerns (because nobody would believe him either), he makes it abundantly clear that he doesn't want anything to do with Aphe anymore, to the boy's dismay.

finally, a few important notes on continuity:

in this AU the journey is a bit slower-paced than in canon, so instead of Act 1 happening almost at once after they left Troy, in the Knitting Saga after the Polyhemus fiasco, pissed off Poseidon decides to torture them first before the execution, so they are lost at sea for a couple years in between Remember Them and Storm, before Poseidon gets bored and decides to kill them for good. then they spend a year with Circe as she cooks up a way to send them into the Underworld, in the meantime hoping that Poseidon cools down somehow. then the Underworld and the Thunder Sagas happen a couple months apart, and then Ody (and Aphemachus, who is kept alive by the gods purposefully, so he has a chance to grow up and destroy Ithaca) spend 5 years with Calypso, and then another year trying to get to Ithaca.

Telegonus still exists in this AU, despite not being the son of Odysseus and Circe. instead, he is the unwanted son of Circe and some unnamed sailor from that first batch that she had taken pity upon and let her guard around. because of being born a demigod and living on a magical island his aging is a bit wonky, but he appears to be around 12-15 years old. he's a charming, confident, precocious child, who takes after his mother in personality and approaches. him and Odysseus get really close in the time that the crew stays on Aeaea, because Telegonus is not (as far as Ody knows, at least) prophecized to harm Ithaca and Odysseus desperately misses Telemachus; while Telegonus just imprints on the first dad-shaped adult he sees. Aphe is sad and desperately jealous.

aphemachus: d-daddy??|･ω･) odysseus: do I look like- ಠ益ಠ telegonus: you are my dad! you're my dad! boogie-woogie-woogie! (~˘▾˘)~ odysseus: awww!! yes!! what a good boy!!(✿◠‿◠) aphemachus: ಠ_ಠ

fun fact, Ody considers leaving Aphe on Calypso's island. Aphe, who's like 8-9 at the time, almost expects him to do so. only on the morning of their departure do they have a heart-to-heart about how Ody was a shitty, emotionally unavailable father, and how Aphe only ever wanted to be loved.

fun fact 2, telegonus will make another appearance later ٩(๑･ิᴗ･ิ)۶

[cosmxc-ars3hol3]

Oh, ashes, ashes, Dust to dust

Title - Oh, ashes, ashes, Dust to dust

Rating - General Audiences

Archive Warning - No Archive Warnings Apply

Category - M/M

Fandom - Keeper of the Lost Cities - Shannon Messenger

Relationship - Councillor Bronte/Fintan Pyren

Characters - Fintan Pyren, Councillor Bronte

Additional Tags - Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 03: Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities)

Summary - ‘After Fintan burnt Oblivimyre down during his healing, he sneaks his way into Bronte’s Castle in Eternalia so he has somewhere to stay. Bronte decides to help him stay hidden/keep people thinking he’s dead.’

its gonna be a multi chapter (hopefully) fintante fic that my tumblr mutual kale gave me when i was bitching about the appalling lack of fintante fics on ao3 (thanks kale!)

The fic is also under the cut

Bronte lightleaped back to his castle with a heavy heart; his and the other councillors' castle was luckily not in the section of Eternalia that got burned down by fintans Everblaze. He unlocked the door, his bodyguards trailing in behind him, patrolling the lower levels of the castle. The air was thick with the scent of ash, an unsettling reminder of the chaos that had unfolded, strange but not yet suspicious.

The goblins conducted a thorough search that ended with them telling Bronte it was safe, yet Bronte couldn't shake a feeling of unease. It must be leftover nerves from what happened at Oblivimyre. Going alone, he went to the more familiar and comforting parts of his castle. Weary both emotionally and physically, he went to his lounge room, intending to calm down and eventually sleep, if he could, for the night. But as he got into the room, a prickling sensation told him he was not alone.

"Who's there?" Bronte's voice cut through the silence, betraying a mixture of weariness and apprehension. He could tell there was someone there. Today had taken its toll on him, and now the break in felt like a cruel twist of fate. The scene of earlier in the evening rushed back to him: the council’s idiotic decision to entrust Sophie, a mere 13-year-old, with the responsibility of bringing Fintan back to sanity. to fix what used to be impossible.

Sophie is the only currently existing telepath with the ability to bring back a broken mind. He would say skill, but she didn't work for it; she was handed it on a silver platter by her creators, the Black Swan.

The Black Swan were a group of law-breaking rebels that, although they aren't totally law-abiding, they're also not as evil as everyone originally thought. They used to be the only known rebel group, but through a fiasco a few months ago, when Sophie was kidnapped, it was revealed that there was another rebel group, one that had everyone pinning their actions and crimes onto the Black Swan. It was then revealed that Fintan, an old friend to many of the current and past councillors, was a part of this newly discovered rebel group. The council decided to break Fintan's mind in an attempt to get more information out of him—information that he was refusing to give up willingly.

The break ended with many things going wrong, all of which are public knowledge and heavily talked about amongst people. Alden's mind broke, and with the help of the black swan, Sophie realised that she could heal him, something previously thought to be impossible.

The council decided, against Bronte’s better wishes, to heal Fintan's mind and try to get the same information that they previously failed to extract. It was a gamble that Bronte had foolishly hoped the council wouldn't take.

Bronte knew what his old friend? enemy? Bronte didn't know how to describe him; he knew what he is like. was like.

As he predicted, the healing went wrong—so much more wrong than he could have ever predicted himself.

Sophie, without a hitch, healed fintan’s broken mind.

That's where it went wrong. Bronte knew that it would be stupid to bring back Fintan's sanity, he was already too far gone from how he used to be.

Bronte looks back to those days with fondness and love.

Fintan used to be so good, so caring. Bronte knew that the person his old friend used to be was dead. and now his old friend has died.

In an attempt at something, while they were all in that building, all glittering and seemingly perfect, he called down Everblaze.

He's dead now, as is Kenric. and Bronte has to cope with losses.

Kenric, a trusted ally, was among the casualties, leaving Bronte to deal with the loss, although he didn't have it as hard as Oralie did. Kenric's death hurt because it was avoidable; Fintan’s hurt because Bronte was mourning the person his friend used to be.

‘Whoever is here, you better show yourself before I get my bodyguards,’ Bronte's voice held a steely edge, a futile attempt to mask his trepidation. The intruder remained hidden, refusing to reveal themselves despite Bronte's threats. With a resigned sigh, he shed his supposedly "fireproof" cape, not that it worked when faced with Everblaze, the sun’s fire on earth, only able to be summoned by the most powerful of pyrokinetics. Fintan did it in absolute zero conditions with a still-healing mind.

As much as Bronte hated to admit it, Fintan scared him.

‘If you don't come out now, I will be calling them in to find you,’ he warned. ‘I'm sure you're aware that goblins have excellent senses. They will find you in no time. So either show yourself or risk my bodyguards and jail,’ he finished. sitting down on one of the chairs lying around his lounge room, where he knew the perpetrator was hiding, waiting for them to emerge from their hiding spot to show themselves so Bronte could finally go to bed and try to process that evening.

‘I'm sure I can handle the goblins. Im sure I could take you out too,’ said the intruder.

‘Show yourself now, or I will send the full force of my inflicting your way. Responding tells me where in the room you are.’ said bronte with an eerily calm voice when compared to his threatening words.

‘alright, alright. I will show myself IF you agree to hear me out, not call for your goblins, or arrest me,’ replied the stranger. Although Bronte recognised his voice from somewhere, he couldn't place it, but the voice felt really familiar.

And why would I agree to that? Chances are, you're a member of a rebel group, probably the same one Fintan was working with. You're a criminal, a big one at that, because you chose to break into a councillor's office.’ Bronte stated, ‘You should be glad I didn't immediately get my goblins to sniff you off here and into a jail cell,’ he threatened, even though he knew it was pointless.

The ashy smell he picked up on entry to his castle that he mistook for his own clothes wasn't him. The intruder was a part of the same rebel group that fintan was a leader to.

He waited a moment before adding, ‘But I'm curious, so I'll agree.’

‘Hopefully curiosity won't kill the cat.' replied the intruder, about to finally reveal himself, ‘Hey bronte.’

It was Fintan. somehow it was Fintan.

‘You’re supposed to be dead,’ said Bronte in shock.

He punches Fintan.

[mochatune]

Hey! So I've fixated on a vague headcannon of a Y/N with dissociative identity disorder. They're a system with different alters, and each feels differently about Peter (each could be a reference to the different routes in the game - the romantic route, the friendship route, the abusive route, etc.) And well, Peter loves all of you - so he tries to get every single alter to fall for him. I love your HCs, could you write a Peter x Y/N with DID one?

Hey so sorry about this being as late as it is, I’m just now getting back on tumblr. Anyone else with an ask i promise it’s a priority.

In advance I have no real idea on how DID really is and am going off what I’ve been told, if this comes off as offensive then I apologize.

—

Peter x darling with DID

—

- honestly he wouldn’t pick up on it at all in the beginning, which is weird considering his favorite hobby is literally stalking you. He knew you took some sort of medication but upon further snooping he found it was Prozac, a common depression med.

- when you keep changing how you feel about him it gets him angry, he genuinely thinks you’re just giving him mixed signals. This could lead him on to take you even faster than originally in the game.

- you go from calling him asking when you guys are meeting up again to telling him to stay the fuck away from you and blocking his number. He doesn’t appreciate the inconsistency, don’t be surprised when he’s banging at your door screaming demanding an explanation. He’s patient but enough of this will start to piss him off and leave him feeling paranoid.

- it’s not until you both are having a at home date when he realizes what’s happening here, the switch is gradual and almost seemless but as your biggest fan he picks it up.

- one second your cuddling him and now you’re just staring at him with this gross look in your eyes.

- after this incident it’s clear he doesn’t know as much as he thought he did about you. if you felt watched before then you definitely did now, not only is he keeping a strict eye on you trying to figure out what’s going on with you but he’s also snooping through your place a lot more consistently.

- he eventually finds your hospital records in a dusty old box and it all starts to click, of course you were acting so ‘weird’.

- this determines him further to win the love over every ‘you’, though don’t be surprised if you find this also motivates him to take you faster. Now that he has an actual reason to believe you need him he won’t release his grip.

- it starts with him coming over more often and Texting you more, being more attentive basically. He also starts noticing the switches more.

- as soon as he found out about your diagnosis he did so much research, like an insane amount. Knows pretty much the ins and outs of what DID is.

- when you switch it’s like he switches, more so switching his approach in how he talks to you.

- when you’re lovey he doesn’t do much, he likes this side of you best and is ultimately determined to get all these sides of you to be like that with him.

- when you’re angry or more so scared of him he gives you space and comforts you as much as possible, it’s a little antagonizing to admit but he treats you like a child when you get like this.

- it’s sort of a running game, this personality is incredibly stubborn and doesn’t want anything to do with him. His best bet is to more gently force himself on you until you can eventually tolerate his presence and hopefully soon his love.

- all in all he just becomes more attentive. There’s not much to say considering he’s not as mentally there either.

- you end up kidnapped in his home much earlier than expected from even himself where he basically locks you inside and treats you like a helpless animal.

- its fucked up but he drugs you into being complacent when you switch and you start freaking out about the current situation.

- if the drugging doesn’t work then it’s the constant manipulation that does, you’re other personality will never really love him but it is numb to his touch at this point.

- he’s really just putting a bandaid over a bullet wound with the way he’s treating you.

- when you behave he’s all over you and treating you like a goddess but when you have these freak outs he just doesn’t know what to do, despite being so well versed in your disorder he’s still a very toxic person who wants all of you.

- he won’t even take you to therapy because of how possessive he is, he expects you to treat him as your therapist and you can only imagine how that would blow over.

- you’re always ensured your meds and a warm body to stay next to but that’s about as much as you get because Peter is not as emotionally available as he makes you believe he is.

—

[enriquemzn262]

I haven’t mentioned this publicly, but I honestly think it’s about time I do so:

Back in 2021, a whole bunch of family, myself included, got together and decided to apply for the American tourism visa, where we hoped to take advantage of the disruption in travel that the pandemic still posed just to see if it would be easier to get it.

And while it was relatively cheaper, the set date for the interview was August 2023, almost two years from the time we started, so that process was basically left in the back of our minds.

Well, come August, and we all travelled as a group to Bogota, got ready, and hoped for the best.

30 minutes of security screenings at the US embassy, 1 hour of waiting in line, and a 10 minute interview later

I got my visa! I can travel up to three months a year to the US now!

And as celebration, one of my family members, who recently had an insurance payout after an incident 4 years ago, gifted all of us plane tickets to Miami, taking advantage of how dirt cheap those are from here (barely a 4-hour flight), so this Tuesday I’ll be going to the United States of America for the first time in my life, a dream come true!

Its going to be a 9-day trip, we will be renting a car together as a group, and staying at both Miami and Orlando, hoping to visit as much as we can as cheaply as humanly possible, where we will also take advantage of the recent fall of the US dollar compared to the Colombian peso.

So yeah, I’ll finally get to visit the country that has given me so much over the years, not to mention, I’ll actually get to use my spoken English! Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

I wanted to go shooting, but looking at online prices those are criminally expensive, so maybe for another time, hopefully with my (future) wife on my side (since she’s Venezuelan and we’re still not legally married we couldn’t make her part of our group)

If any old mutual lives in the Miami or Orlando area, be sure to let me know, one of the items of my bucket list is finally meeting irl someone from Tumblr, and I’m hoping to cross that on this trip!

[oncemore-butwithfeeling]

Presenting ...

Exactly as it says on the tin folks!

Once More (but with feeling!) is a fan script rewrite of season 4 with the sole intention of giving the fans an ending that's (hopefully) better than what we got. 10 episodes in total. Approx 40-55 mins each. Complete with soundtrack. Coming to a tumblr and ao3 (wilting_blossoms) near you on Sept 21st!

So, I started working on this project exactly 3 days after I finished watching season 4. I was unsatisfied, heartbroken and, frankly, really pissed (along with many other adjectives I've seen floating around Tumblr since the season came out).

And, like many others, I needed a way to vent. And when that happens, I write. This rewrite started as a more of a personal therapy but I've grown very attached to it and wanted to share it with the wider fan community.

That being said, I have the greatest respect towards both the show, its creators, writers and actors included, and the original source material and have tried to stay true to the characters as much as possible, aiming to write them in a way that does them and their development justice. With a healthy dose of fan service sprinkled here and there.

I'll be posting an episode per week every Saturday starting from September 21st. A summary and "trailer" for Ep. 1 will be posted in the coming days. So yeah, feel free to ask any questions you might have!

Also, I heard a rumor.... you followed this blog. (Just covering all the bases)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

So I Live a Lie in the Light

Setting: Forest (6 year gap) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Tabby O’Sullivan (OC) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of child abuse; mentions of pregnancy Summary: Daryl has a secret. He’s always known it could affect all of those he loved. Just not like this. A/N: Tumblr is being an uber twat right now and won’t let me edit so hopefully there are no mistakes.

It had been getting more difficult to hide. Emotions always made it worse. For most of his life, he had tried to hide from them; push them down and bury them. And that was before he was bitten. He had been so young and careless, out in the woods after a particularly heavy beating from his father. Nature had always been his safe place. That night, it was anything but safe. 

He had thought it was a dog at first, a low growl the first indication he hadn’t been alone. He had stumbled through the bushes and landed directly in the middle of the dinner table. The creature was kneeling over the deer carcass, its clawed hands holding open a gaping hole so its canine-like maw could delve inside. 

It had heard him, probably smelled him now that he thought back on it. Running had proven useless, its long legs catching up to him with ease. He remembered thinking he would die right there that night. Even now, he could feel the pain flare to life around the scar its teeth had left on his shoulder. 

Then it had let him go. 

His daddy had been passed out drunk when he got home, allowing him to care for the wound without explanation. He would find out on the first full moon since the attack that the creature had been Merle and what exactly that bite meant for the rest of his life. 

So Daryl, a lycan, had kept his secret. It made slaughtering the undead while alone a piece of cake. Even when he was with his chosen family, he had strength he would never be able to explain if he didn’t hide it well. Had he not been so consumed by fear, he could have saved them. He could have saved so many of them. 

After Rick’s supposed death, he had skulked off into the woods to find his brother’s body, dead or alive. He had left everyone behind. He had left her behind. If there had been anyone he would have told, it would have been her. He wanted to tell her; wanted to show her how much he trusted her. How much he loved her. 

But he was afraid. The walkers had done nothing more than die and had become the enemy. What would that mean for him? A lycan. A werewolf. 

Rather than live with her rejection, he chose to live with her absence. It was better for both of them this way. 

Daryl had made her promise to never visit aside from after each full moon. He had been adamant and, so far, Tabby had held to the promise. She’d set the world on fire for that man, so even when her heart ached for his presence, she held fast to the agreement. 

Until now. 

Circumstances called for an earlier visit. She brought supplies with her but secretly hoped this would be when he’d return. It had been six years. Two day visits every 30 days or so just wasn’t cutting it. He’d always allow her to stay in his camp, sharing touches and sweet kisses and whispered words. Sharing his bed and his body. She yearned for those moments. 

Maybe today was the day. 

“Daryl, are you here?” Tabby peeked into the tent, surprised to find Dog stretched out on the bedroll but no archer. “Daryl?” With careful, quiet steps—just like he’d taught her—she crept across the forest floor. It wasn’t long before she heard the familiar snarls of a herd. Oh god, no! 

She didn’t call for him. It would only alert them to her presence when he could be perfectly fine and hiding to wait it out. But why would he leave Dog? There was a new, unfamiliar sound as she closed in, an animal of some sort. Probably, being mauled and eaten, the poor thing. When she could see a few of the uncoordinated, shuffling bodies, she pressed herself against the nearest tree, carefully leaning around to the other side. 

What she saw defied everything logical she had ever been taught up until the dead began to walk. 

A large, black creature was slaughtering walkers left and right; taking heads and limbs and tossing them carelessly. It was covered in fur and stood on two legs at about seven feet, with decipherable knees but canine hocks below them. The fingers and toes were tipped with large, razor-sharp claws that were slicing through flesh like butter. The torso was comparable to that of a human but larger, broader with pronounced skeletal and muscular features. But its head—Its head was large with canine features: elongated snout, pointed ears, and a mouth full of dangerously sharp, dripping teeth. 

Tabby was frozen to the spot with wide eyes, tears on her lashes, and only one coherent thought: Daryl. 

Had it killed him? 

The creature paused with a walker’s head in its grasp, raising its snout to sniff the air—and turned its black gaze right to where she was hiding. 

“Oh fuck.” She whispered, stumbling backwards before she turned around and began to run back to the camp. There was a roar unlike any she had ever heard from somewhere behind her but then the sound of more walkers being dispatched. “Dog!” Tabby screamed, relieved when the canine poked his head out of the tent. “Dog, come! We have to find Daryl!” She saw the archer’s pack on the ground, choking on a sob. Why would he go anywhere without supplies? “Come, Dog! We have to—”

When she turned, she was face to face with an open maw of pointed fangs, rivulets of thick saliva stretching and falling to the leaves. She lifted her foot to take a step back, watching its eyes lower and then rise before it growled. She couldn’t die. Not now. She hadn’t survived years of slow moving corpses to be taken out like this when she was so close to everything she could have ever wanted, apocalypse or not. 

“Dog.” She whispered, oddly concerned that the canine hadn’t made a single sound. She started to risk a glance but didn’t have to look far. Dog was sitting calmly at her side, looking up at the creature with his tongue hanging out the side of his open mouth. 

Movement in front of her brought Tabby’s eyes forward. A huge, clawed hand was reaching for her, slowly. She whimpered, raising her shoulders and screwing her eyes shut. The touch on her face was shockingly gentle. When it pulled away, she released the breath she had been holding and opened her eyes. It was backing away. 

It made a noise before things began to shift. Bones and colors and size, shrinking and morphing until—

“Daryl?!”

He was naked as the day he was born, a hand out against a tree to balance himself as if the change had sapped his energy. The look he was giving her was unreadable, so many emotions flitting across his face that she couldn’t pinpoint just one. 

“Ya weren’t s’posed to come here.” He whispered. 

“Yeah, I get that now.” She snapped. “What the fuck is going on?” He stepped toward and when she stepped back, his expression crumbled. 

“You’re afraid of me now.” He choked on a sob, his chin quivering. Daryl walked briskly past her and grabbed his pack, jerking out clothing and proceeded to begin dressing himself. “Ya can go if ya want.” The tremble in his voice made it clear that wasn’t what he truly wanted. Besides, she came to tell him something and now, more than ever, it seemed more imperative. 

“Daryl, I—” The redhead braved a step toward him, visibly trembling. Yes, she was afraid. Even so, something in her gut told her that he would never hurt her. She was afraid because she didn’t understand. She needed to know what this meant for her. How it changed things. “I need an explanation. I need to know—”

Tabby paused, standing straighter when he went still with his shirt halfway pulled over his shoulders. Daryl sniffed the air—once, then twice—and turned to her, his brow creased. “Ya smell diff’rent.”

“You can smell me? Like—a dog?”

“Lycan.” He corrected, pulling his shirt the rest of the way down. The archer began to step toward her, but she consciously made her feet stay planted. 

“Lycan?” Tabby queried, blinking.

“Werewolf.” Daryl stated calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He was nearly in front of her now, taking a moment to lean in and inhale through his nose once again. “Why do ya smell diff’rent?”

“New body wash?” She giggled nervously, a fine shaking to her person but still not moving away. 

He actually dared to look insulted. “Ain’t like that, Tabby-cat. S’ya scent. Your smell. Ain’t your clothes or soap or perfume. S’you.” The jig was up. She had to tell him and then he’d need to her what it meant; if it was dangerous. What she needed to do. 

“So,” The redhead dropped her gaze, toeing at the rocks. “What happens when—lycans?” He nodded. “When lycans and humans have sex and that results in the creation of a little being?” 

Daryl stood up straight, looming over her in a way that had never intimidated her before that moment. “You’re—pregnant?” Tabby nodded, her chin quivering. Daryl barked out a laugh and doubled over, hands on his knees.

She stared with wide blue eyes, incredulous. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

The hunter shook his head and stood up with an expression of pure relief. “Thought ya’d got bit. Didn’t have the—dead stench but I didn’t know how else to take it. Ya weren’t s’posed to be able.” He sobered quickly, reaching cautiously for her shoulders. When she didn’t back away, he pulled her in against him. “Anyway, aint been through it ‘fore n’ haven’t ran into many others like me, but s’far s’I know, ain’t no diff’rent than a human. Just—” he trailed off, easing his hold on her so that she could move back a little. 

Tabby looked up at him, fear present in her trembling orbs. “Just what?”

Daryl bit his lip nervously. “Kid’ll have the curse. Ain’t no two ways ‘bout it. Don’t know how much or how lil’ it’ll show up. Could be born like a pup, could be human. Could change immediately, could take months, years. S’a lot I don’t know.” He let her go and turned away. “M’sorry. Didn’t think ya’d ever—”

Tabby stood in stunned silence, completely overwhelmed and more than a little frightened. One thing hadn’t changed, though. She didn’t think it ever would. She stepped up after a deep breath, wondering if he already knew she was closer because of super hearing or smell. Regardless, she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head between his shoulder blades, pushing back the mental image of them snapping and shifting only a few minutes before. 

She still loved him. He was still somehow her Daryl, even if she had a lot to learn. 

“I’m scared. You can’t blame me for that.” She felt more than heard him sigh. “But I’m not scared of you.” Now a sharp intake of breath, blue eyes searching for her over his shoulder. Tabby leaned back, only enough for him to turn within her embrace, pressing herself right back into his chest. His arms encircled her immediately, warm and familiar. “I’m scared for our baby, what it means for them. What sort of life they’ll have to lead. What precautions we’ll have to take.”

Daryl nodded but didn’t interrupt. 

“I do know that I want this and I want it with you.” She smiled against his shirt, squeezing him tighter. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together.” He repeated softly, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. 

Pulling back, she gave him an all too familiar smirk, a mischievous twinkle in her wet eyes. “So, if I scratched behind your ear, would your leg shake?”

“Stop.”

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

This is-A random request really,you can write these any way you want with different slashers too,Just include Bubba and Thomas please(ówò) Slashers x child reader who's parents,while being chased like-while hiding with the reader just shoves them out of the hiding place to save themself before fleeing,Maybe the reader is like 5 or 7,just smol and the reader just lays down and cries so the slasher just goes after the mom/or dad then comes back and takes the kid in?-

I was writing another request but Tumblr's hangry ass decided to eat it 🙄

ALSO YASS I LOVE THIS REQUESTS, AND I LOVE DIRTY DEED BEING DONE DIRT CHEAP <333.

Slashers x sacrificed! Child! Reader.

Bubba 🩸⛓️

Bubba didn't really wanna kill you, one of those reasons being you were a child and he likes children! And you didn't deserve this. :(

Didn't really wanna kill your parents either because oh how lonely and sad you must feel after seeing your mother and father get cut in half by a chainsaw!!.... Buutt he could always convince his brothers to let you stay in the family for 'extra' help. (he just wants a friend and a kid)

But he had to do what he had to do other wise his whole family will die and it'll all be his fault.

But all of the guilt he felt for your parents after they had pushed you out of their hiding spot after Bubba had found you had disappeared. And instead been replaced with anger and betrayal. Why did they do that? Family is supposed to be everything!

He felt sad looking at you crying on the ground after your brain processed wtf just happened.

He ignored you and instead went dashing towards your parents who were screaming and crying and confused why the killer had gone after them instead.

Earlier he was holding back but now he wasted no time, these people didn't deserve to be called parents.

Few minutes later he went back to you with no weapons on him, finding you still on the ground letting small tears go down and he just had the perfect idea and was dead set on it.

He timidly walked over to you babbling random nonsense but none of them sounded ill willed.

It took a lot of whining and persistence for his brother to finally allow to take you in but he was cautious as hell but everything still worked out really well.

Of course his oldest sibling, Drayton was harsh on you but because he was worried to hell if you were going to snitch on them and ruin his reputation but considering what happened a while back its safe to say you won't. (hopefully?)

And you'll be forced to get involved in the whole killing thing. If you start crying or get sad Bubba will do his best to get more victims so Drayton stops complaining and then you won't have to do it.

Thomas 🩸⛓️

Now Thomas and bubba are very similar although distant cousins.

He holds the same kind of guilt when he sees a family but he loves his own family more. He'll make sure to give yours a quick death.

Same thing, he's a family guy and a big family he can watch spend time together as they get older. <333

He was thinking of taking you in but he's not sure if you would comply because of your current status him basically chasing down you and your family.

But he became less shy of those thoughts as he watched your own parents forcefully make you show yourself to the killer after their tail to save their own skin (no pun intended) and he was now disgusted with your parents at how easily they gave you in.

He was always told the most important thing in this world was family and if your parents couldn't understand that then they shouldn't be parents at all.

He was a bit startled but was quickly catching up to them.

They were disgusting useless people who idiotically pondered why he wasn't taking his time killing off their own child they selfishly offered.

After being done with them he slowly walked over to you without his chainsaw and his hands slightly up.

Showing his best his intention was not to harm you. It didn't take that long or hard to convince his family to add you as a member but they were wary.

And another terrible thing was you HAVE to help with capturing the victims. If it's too much of a toll you Thomas will put on his headphones on you and make you go rest. This can only go so long, it depends on your age and personality.

Soon some guilt tripping form some of his family members and hoyt if it goes on too long. Thomas can only do so much against them.

After a while you'll slowly start to gain their trust and all of you will become a happy odd but cute family. (except for cannibalism stuff, murder and all)

I realised how different the energy and vibes are between bubba snd Thomas wtff