#i wish i had more of an idea for plot for this!

[grimmsbride]

LOVERS ROCK [ daisuke / reader ]

keeping your relationship a secret from your coworkers was no doubt; thrilling. and also, very, very challenging. it didn’t help the two of you just loved to push your limits

tags / ooc characters | semi-public sex (everyone is asleep but still) | reader & daisuke are slightly inexperienced | soft-top daisuke | mentions of marks | cowgirl | dry humping | porn with little plot | they fuck with earbuds in | mentions of the other crew members | fluffy at the beginning | pre-established relationship | sex under the stars.. | pre-crash | chubby & poc coded reader (but anyone is free to read) | i don’t know the exact time period but modern music is mentioned | you guys love holding hands | etc.

notes / #bringbackdryhumping | reader is the same janitor reader in my previous fic (obviously). i got this idea randomly, daisuke seems like the type to take his partner to scenic places for dates. and well.. the nighttime screen is about as scenic as it gets on the tulpar. i hope you enjoy and as usual please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos 🫶🏾. i feel i made him very ooc, i’m used to see daisuke smut being quite submissive to the reader so i wanted to go a different approach.. i think in situations like this he may be a little more confident, especially if his partner is reciprocating to the feeling. if you have any thoughts on the manner let me know <3

The Tulpar was filled with mundane tasks. Wake up, clean, eat, shower, and go back to sleep— a routine that’s been ingrained into your body. A continuous cycle that would have bored you to death without your beloved music. You were grateful for your position, no matter how minuscule, yet you couldn’t deny the wish for something more.

And luckily it came true; in the form of a young man nonetheless.

You weren’t one to mix business and pleasure, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Coming across Tulpar and the demographic you expected to be on the ship — older people that certainly weren’t your type — you were quite confident you wouldn’t go against your usual code. But alas, you surprised yourself while falling for a certain intern.

As bright eyed and slightly clueless he was, Daisuke was a pocket of sunshine you’ve come to truly adore. Always there when he can be, even if it means a quick kiss when you’re cleaning or a gentle pinch when passing by to remind you of who was in your corner.

Keeping your growing relationship a secret from your coworkers was troublesome but extremely necessary. You couldn’t imagine the expressions the others would display, especially Jimmy who just seemed to be far too eager to stomp on just about anyone's happiness; no matter the size.

Still, you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was at times. Pulling your partner into a quiet dark corner for a few extra kisses, or the secret looks the two of you gave each when in a public setting. The line was thinning longer and longer, close calls increasing as time passed.

And yet here you were, seated upon the living room couch; waiting for your beloved Daisuke.

Usually if the two of you wanted alone time when everyone was asleep you alternated between your bedrooms. At least there, there was a door and bed. But for some reason, Daisuke was adamant on spending some time out here; underneath the pretty nighttime screen.

Your eyes stared up at the blues and whites, head leaning back against the shoulder of the couch as music poured into your ears. Your thumb traced the little device, perfectly at ease.

That was until something delicately traced the back of your neck.

You swallowed a yelp, quickly turning with a jump to glare at the one responsible— who only grinned back at you.

“Daisuke! What if I had yelled?”

You stood up from the couch, watching the man walk around the before waltzing down the little steps. Within two strides he was standing in front of you, glancing down at you with the sweetest smile.

“But you didn't!” Daisuke chuckled the moment you lightly shoved his chest, catching your wrist in time before you could move it away. In doing so, he locked your fingers whilst his free hand went for the earbud occupying one of your ears. Pulling it out, the man then lifted it to his own, bringing himself closer to your form.

You met him, unoccupied hand sliding up to wrap your arm around his waist, laying your head against his chest. Between the melody of his heart beat and Tv Girl running through your ears, you were at complete bliss. As if you could fall asleep right then and there.

The two of you swayed, allowing yourselves to get caught up in each other rather than your surroundings. You felt his free hand sneak underneath your arm, pulling it higher until your hand was on top of his shoulder. After which, Daisuke’s hand found your waist, tugging you even closer and actually adding moves to your swaying.

You snorted softly, mumbling softly about him being corny to which the man only laughed. Silence continued after as the two of you danced slowly, carefully, as to hopefully not alert the others of your rather embarrassing nightly activities.

A step, another, and then a graceful stride. You wondered if Daisuke danced a lot back home. The thought caused you to laugh once again, just in time for your lover to twirl you.

Slithering his arm tighter around your waist, he pulled your back to his front, face being shoved into your neck.

Your eyes peeled open, staring up at the nighttime screen that stared back at you. “Dancing under the stars, huh?..”

“A perfect date.”

You smiled at his words, hand rose to reach back and lightly fuss with his hair. “Yeah, all girls love dancing at work while watching a blown up image of a fake sky.”

Daisuke laughed into your ear, the pitch perfectly going along with the music you shared.

“I told my dad I knew what the ladies wanted.”

You groaned softly, teetering between amusement and playful annoyance. You turned around in his hold, hands rising to hold his warm cheeks.

“You’re corny..”

Daisuke smiled, thumb tracing the small of your back, messing with the fabric of the top you wore. “And lucky for me, you’re into it.” You didn’t need to agree nor deny, given the sweet kiss you pressed to his lips was answer enough. He kneeled to meet you fully, tugging you so close as if wishing to melt into you. Your noses brushed against each other, cold tips warming as you consumed one another. You loved kissing Daisuke, not just because he was your boyfriend but more-so cause he was a damned good kisser.

His lips always moved so slow at first, before slowly picking up the longer you continued. A hand rose from your back to instead cup the back of your head, a shiver running down your spine the moment his fingers traced up your scalp; messing in your hair.

So desperate.. you two always were. The thought of any interruptions spurred you on to always savor each and every moment with as much as passion as possible.

And it seemed the both of you intended to do just that, as — ever so carefully — Daisuke walked backwards, leading you with him. Once close enough he was descending to the couch, taking you with him by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.

The two of you broke apart for a moment, gulping up the air around you greedily before smashing your lips together with even more vigor. Your hands were clutching his shoulders at this point, suddenly being reminded Daisuke wasn’t just some clueless man.

You shivered as you felt his hand glide, intruding your top to lay his fingers upon your warm skin. With each interlock of your tongues his fingers were digging into your flesh, a soft whine being pushed from his throat into your mouth. The sound alone caused your thighs to clench, moving carefully in his lap.

Which of course, was met with a hiss and a quick squeeze. You questioned this for a moment, before quickly realizing why it happened in the first place.

This only caused you to smile against him, lowering your hips fully before dragging them against him slowly.

Daisuke was off your lips in minutes, hands falling to your waist as a hushed groan escaped his bruised lips.

“Here?..” The man spoke gently, eyes flicking from between your bodies before back to your face. His eyebrows furrowed as you continued your languid drags, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You nodded slowly, leaning closer to press your lips to his ear. “Mhm.. here.”

“Then.. I want to feel— more. Please.” His words were sweet, allowing them to settle in the air for a moment before his fingers were curling to tug at your pants, allowing you to get the message. You stood up rather quickly, pushing your pants down and off, the bottoms pooling at your ankles.

You watched as Daisuke did the same, now only in plain boxers, a funny contrast to the gaudy everyday shirt he usually wore.

Stepping out of your pants, you caught his hands as you made your way back to his lap, brushing your clothed cunt right against his growing bulge as you sat down. It was your time to whine as you felt him through your thin fabrics, Daisuke capturing your lips rather quickly afterwards.

Slowly, you began that same languid pace, gripping his shoulders for stability as you dragged your hips back and forth.. back and forth. His nails were digging into your thighs, meeting your movement with a small, desperate thrust. Moans passed between the two of you, warmth, and music mixing into a sensation that you could only describe as euphoria.

Dramatic sure, but what else could you call it, exactly?

“Could come.. ju—just from this.” Daisuke mumbled the moment the two of you broke apart for air, his face falling to your neck to stamp wet kisses to your skin. He was gentle not to focus too much on a single area, worrying about leaving behind a mark. Though, it seemed rather contradictory given the location the two of you chose for your.. fun.

You were aching, panties surely soaked with arousal as that itch grew. You could only pant in his ear, unsure how exactly this felt so good. Maybe it was pent up, a mixture of stress and the misfortune of lack of alone time. Regardless, it wasn’t your job to figure it out at the moment.

The only job you had right now was to continue to chase this feeling, for as long as you could.

Daisuke pulled you closer if humanly possible, hips rising up from the couch as he ground up into you. He wasn’t lying early, despite zero actual contact he could feel himself twitching— begging for release. The effect you had on him was far too great, after all.

Desperate breaths escaped you, thighs shaky yet yearning for more. His touch, everything, you wanted to feel it all. Your fingers rose to curl into his hair, leaning into his ear as the softest more, dropped from your tongue.

Your words spurred him, fingers squeezing your flesh, nails tracing against those pretty marks that lined your hips.

“You want more?.. Of course, whatever you want.”

Daisuke could never deny you, no matter how small the request was. In minutes he was tugging his boxers down to his thighs, hand lazily dragging across his length. It was a pretty color, lighter than him, with a mole on the under side of his shaft.

The man then reached with his other hand to curl his finger on your panty, tugging it to the side and exposing your soft cunt to his hand. For a moment his finger gently circled your hardened bud, enjoy the pleasant noises you struggled to keep down.

But soon enough he was becoming as desperate as you, helping you position carefully, rubbing his weeping tip against your clit. Daisuke hissed, continuing to coat his dick in your arousal before finding your entrance, lining up, and raising his hips to push himself inside.

The both of you groaned, your eyes pinched closed as you sunk down. Your walls wrapped around his length perfectly, swallowing him up and keeping him deep inside. With each breath you released you clenched, causing the young man under you to struggle to keep his mind straight. Daisuke couldn’t help being so inexperienced, and well.. neither could you, given you felt a single movement would be enough to push you over the edge.

Your eyes slowly opened, gaze falling to his face, taking the time to map out his expression. Would it be corny to call him beautiful? Was it corny to find your lover beautiful in a such state? Under your mercy, as close as biologically possible? Maybe.. but you didn’t dwell on it long, instead deciding to graze your palms across his cheeks, thumbs coming to trace the moles on either side.

“I love you.”

Your words were earnest, laced with the sweetest honey. You smiled, watching his own signature smile cross his face, perfectly. Like any other time.

Daisuke pulled you even closer, a grip to your thigh as he leaned to just a breath’s away.

“See. Now you’re the corny one.”

Your lover swallowed the pretty laughter threatening to leave your chest, all smiles as his arms wrapped around your waist. Once tucked close and snug, his hips, the small thrust enough for the both of you to sigh into the other’s mouth.

Soon enough your knees were pressing against the cushions, hips rising and falling into his lap. With each drop, wet skin smacked against each other, certainly a worrying sound but the two of you seemed to no longer care.

You were too caught up in each other anyway.

Your fingers curled into his silky locks, crying out into his mouth as he stirred you up deeply. His length hit each spot perfectly, a mold made specifically for you. And what’s more, the moment a hand snaked under your skirt to drag his thumb across your nipple— you began to see stars.

Daisuke groaned into you, meeting each drop of your hips with desperate thrusts. You felt so good, way too good. He tried to keep his voice down as to avoid alerting the others, and hear you. You just sounded far too good to ignore.

Your shaky breaths, the way your voice pitched whenever his tip brushed against that special spot — don’t even get him started on the gasps you made when Daisuke went, just a little too deep. Alas he couldn’t focus on the growing list of reasons for his obsession you; bringing you complete pleasure was the main objective.

“You’re clenching me.. you’re going to come, aren’t you?” Daisuke drawled against your lips, pressing a kiss to them before dragging his own over to your ear. Each pant and groan hit it directly, the man at this point helping you rise and fall upon his cock.

“I want you to finish.. all over me.”

“Daisuke—!”

“Not so loud..” The intern spoke in a soft rasp, squeezing you close as his end grew closer. “I don’t need the others to hear you like this. It’s on—only for me, yeah?”

You shook your head rapidly, lip nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting down, your fingers digging into his shoulders— sure to leaves marks despite the shirt he wore.

Within moments you were seeing white, clutching him as you fulfilled his wish. Your arousal coated his dick and thighs, making a sticky mess that was surely on the couch by now.

Daisuke swore under his breath, bringing you onto his lap in one final thrust before filling you up. Luckily he remembered you took the pill as to regulate your period.

The two of you panted, in sync with each other and the music that seemed to still be blasting in your ears. How exactly your earbuds sustained that erratic movement, you will never know nor question.

You pulled back to glance at Daisuke, spotting the man already looking at you, smiling brightly.

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the space between your two bodies.

“This is going to be so annoying to clean.”

Daisuke stifled his laughter, pulling you into a tight hug, eyes shining whilst he stared up at the screen;

“Maybe… I love you too, [Name].”

[narnian-neverlander]

What Could’ve Been [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: In which you find yourself in a world so similar yet so different to your own and are simply too tired of life knocking you down again and again to still play the selfless hero.

Word Count: 3,9k

Warnings: spoilers for Arcane Season 2, talk about character death and illness, suicidal thoughts, slightly suggestive at the end

A/N: I saw that alternate timeline and went ‘Ekko’s a stronger man than I am’ and went with that; actually wanted to write sth fluffy and happy, and this is wholesome-ish, but with some very bleak undertones so I might have to write some actual fluff to compensate. Also, the religious imagery wasn’t planned from the get go but it kinda happened and it is on brand for this man, I just decided to turn it on its head a little 🤷

“Interesting. When I told you about this last, you advised the exact opposite.”

You freeze mid movement, plate hovering an inch or so over the table you were setting. “Well I… I suppose I’ve changed my mind.”

The soft tap of a cane against the floor alerts you to him crossing the room, appearing in your peripheral as you put down the porcelain with shaky fingers. “A rather… hm, siginificant change in such a short time, wouldn’t you agree? Not to mention you acted like I was telling you for the first time.” He doesn’t receive an answer, so he keeps going. “I’ve had a theory for a while. I don’t believe I’ve told you about it, because really, it’s only a pipe dream at this point, but entertaining for the duller moments nonetheless: alternate timelines. The possibility of several different realities, all co-existing with each other simultaneously. Some would call the mere idea preposterous, I’m fully aware, but then again, how would we know for certain? How could we know? Unless one or more of said timelines happened to… overlap.” The silence that follows is deafening and heavy; a precursor of what’s to come. “You’re not originally from this world, are you?”

While he knows this is a conversation that needs to be had, the way you curl into yourself and seem to wither and grow small before his eyes makes him wish he could take it all back. He tries to catch your gaze, but you purposely avoid his as you drag yourself over to the couch. Body heavy and tired, you all but slump down into worn cushions, blankly staring into space as you weakly reply with “No. I’m not.”

He doesn’t move, nor does he speak, cause while he’d been expecting your answer to a degree, now that it’s out in the open he’s… unsure what to even do with it. It isn’t a worry for long, though, as you continue speaking, slow and weary. Like you had been expecting, dreading, this moment just as much as him.

“It wasn’t a… conscious choice. To come here, I mean. It was an accident really, I didn’t even know what had happened at first.” A weak chuckle. “This was a shock to me as much as it must’ve been for you.”

And what a shock it had been for you. To have been standing with your friends in the bowels of the Hexgates one minute and to wake up in an unfamiliar bed the next. Dizzily traipsing through a space that had felt familiar yet foreign all at once; pictures and mementos from times you couldn’t remember staring at you from every surface. And to have had Viktor come through the door, bag of baked goods under one arm, to find you in the living room of what should’ve been your home, looking every bit as lost as you felt. It had been a miracle you’d stayed standing then and there, with the way he’d looked: same lanky figure supported by a cane, same messy chestnut locks, same two beauty marks against the pale skin of his sharp face, same concern in his honey colored irises when he took in your state. But no dark circles borderlining bruises under his eyes, no hollowed, sunken in cheeks, no blood on his lips to betray another attack. And no Hexcore devouring him whole. Your downfall had come in the form of slender fingers gingerly wrapping around your forearm to try and steady you; a silent question and a gentle offer of help. One of those fingers wearing the very same ring you usually kept on a chain around your neck, because you’d always been too busy or too in your own head to just ask him. To offer him your heart, your life, your everything, if only he wanted it. Always too terrified of rejection, of losing him to his illness; too scared of fucking something until it was too late. And when your hand had come up in search for said necklace, a nervous habit that had developed at some point, and you’d found a matching ring on your own finger instead, you’d finally dissolved into a wailing, sobbing mess against his chest, never wanting to let go again.

And what a shock it had been for him. To have talked to you, not twenty minutes prior, an exchange of sleepy, lazy kisses and quiet murmurs, telling you he’d go get breakfast and be right back, watching as you’d curled back up under the blankets with a content sigh. To come through the door, expecting you still in bed and instead finding you in the middle of your living room, looking utterly lost and misplaced in your own home, an almost manic look in your eyes, staring at him like you’d seen a ghost. He’d approached you, carefully, like one would a wild caged animal, and then a simple touch of his had sent you into a meltdown. And at an absolute loss, he’d simply held you. Let you cry yourself to utter exhaustion in his arms, the both of you a heap on the floor, propped up against the back of the sofa. When you had finally, finally calmed down, you’d played it off as the aftershocks of a nightmare. The kind that makes you believe they’re real and keeps you trapped in them for what could feel like a lifetime. And Gods you’d looked like you had aged a lifetime while he was gone. And ever since that night you’d been… different. Getting lost in your own head more often than not. Suffering from nightmares almost every night. Migraines and something akin to epileptic seizures every once in a good while. He had let it go on, assuring you that if you needed anything he would be there for you, and in the following months, you’d seemed to settle and things had gone back to normal. Relatively. But it had been the memory loss that had made him suspicious. Or more so the fact that while some things remained, others seemed to have happened differently for you and some had never happened at all. Never having been able to leave well enough alone, he’d started digging for explanations. And now, at the end of his research, his most impossible theory proven right - he’s yet again at a loss of what to do. How to help you.

“I didn’t know how I got here, much less how to get back. From what I do understand about all of this, and it ain’t much, the thing that sent me to this world doesn’t even exist here. So at first I didn’t have much of a choice but to just… live. To pretend like everything was normal and I belonged here. But eventually I realized that even if I got the chance to go back, I didn’t want to. I wanted to be selfish, I wanted—“ Your voice cracks, thick with emotion and he watches your head drop forward like a doll’s whose strings have been cut, eyes downcast at your trembling hands. “I wanted to be happy again. And for once in my damn life I wanted it to last. It just never fucking lasts…”

Stride over to you and hold you tight, kiss you and tell you that everything would be alright, that you would figure this out together, like always. That’s what he should be doing. Every bone in his body tells him to, but just like so many other times in the past, his oh so brilliant mind prevents him. Tells him that there is no ‘together, like always’ because the person in front of him isn’t the person he’s known his whole life. Isn’t the person he married. Everything’s an ugly mess and he doesn’t mean for his next words to come across as cruel, doesn’t perceive them that way; blissfully unaware of the implications, he’s simply, truly curious.

“What would you do if you were to go back home?”

An inelegant snort leaves you and you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes in a desperate and vain attempt to stop the tears from flowing.

23 seconds.

You were counting, just to give you something to occupy your spiraling mind with, really.

23 seconds.

That’s how long it had taken him to no longer refer to this world, this apartment, him as your home. To prioritize whatever might be going in your other life. And you know it’s not fair, to be this upset with him, this version of him that you’ve been deceiving from the start; even though he has never wronged you. But you can’t help it. Guilt and regret would soon be all you’d have left again, so might as well leave him with some, too.

“Well… if I hadn’t gotten sucked into this mess, I would’ve killed myself by now. I guess I’d be getting back to that.”

The breath that escapes him sounds like you actually just sucker punched him in the gut and immediately makes you feel terrible about how casual and bitter you’d made it sound, but he’d wanted the truth and that was it. Limbs heavy und unsteady, you rise from your position on the couch and make your way over to the front door. “I’ll go take a walk or… you know, go do… whatever. Give you some space, time to think.” Your hand’s already on the door handle, but you pause and somehow find it in yourself to turn around and at least give him the courtesy of looking at him for what you’re about to say. “For what it’s worth, I never meant to let it go this far. It just became so… easy to pretend like things had always been like this. You made it easy. And while I’m sorry that I lied to you, tricked you, intentional or not, I got the chance to fall in love with you all over again. And I could never be sorry about that.”

You’re fairly certain you’ve never seen him move as fast as he does now and before you know it, you’re wrapped in a hug almost too tight, his cane landing on the carpeted floor next to you with a dull thump. “You cannot say things like that and expect me to just let you walk out of that door, I-“

Readjusting his hold on you, he cradles your head against his shoulder and loops his other arm around your middle, continuing in a hushed, gentle tone. “I can’t bear the thought of harm befalling you. Even worse, you harming yourself. In any timeline. Please, just stay. No matter what might happen in the future, just… stay with me. Right here.”

He means for it to be reassuring, comforting, loving, you know that. It’s not his fault that it has the exact opposite effect.

Wincing, a new wave of tears springs to your eyes and you remove yourself from his hold, but can’t bring yourself to let go completely; hands now linked between the two of you. “Viktor, I stole the body and life of a person you actually love. I don’t want you to force yourself to try and love me out of pity.”

“And why are you so certain that’s what this is?!” It surprises you, how genuinely upset he sounds, and a gasp is forced out of your throat when he wrenches his hands out of your grasp and his palms find your face, to force your gaze onto him and keep it there, wether you want to or not. The expression he’s wearing almost scares you; thick brows furrowed in anger and lips curled back in what could nearly be a snarl, but as soon as gold eyes find yours, red and puffy and so very desperate and grieving, whatever fire seemed to have been burning him up inside goes out all at once.

His shoulders drop and he rests his forehead against yours with a sigh, warm breath fanning over your face. “I’m sorry, moje láska, please forgive me. I’m not angry with you, I just… I can not comprehend why you are so ready and willing to accept rejection, but will not even entertain the possibility that loving you comes as easy to me as your affections for me do to you. Why can you love every version of me, but I’m not allowed the same with every version of you?” He watches you blink owlishly, your mouth opening and closing several times and he’s not sure wether it’s endearing or heartbreaking, how clear it is that this possibility never even crossed your mind. “You act like this entire situation only penalizes me, when in reality, I’m not actually your Viktor, either, am I?”

He expects this to help, to give you a new perspective. To make it clear to you that you are both the same; you are not a villain in his story. And there is a smile on your lips, but it’s so small and sad that his stomach drops at the sight. “No, you’re not. You couldn’t be. My Viktor is gone.”

And all of a sudden, it makes so much sense. How sometimes you’d stare at him with the most haunted look in your eyes, like he was a dead man walking, ready to collapse at any given moment. How you’d grow frantic when he came back late from the academy. How you’d insisted on tagging along on the most mundane of tasks, always under the guise of wanting to spend more time with him, but really just keeping a close eye on him at all times. Though he suspects the former to be true; the chance to spend even a few more precious hours with a loved one you’d thought lost, who wouldn’t jump at that chance?

His world would simply seize spinning if you were no longer in it, he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. How tormenting it must’ve been to see him everyday, a second chance dangling right in front of you, but never certain if you were to wake up back in a world where he was gone.

You’re in his arms again in a heartbeat, one hand carding through your hair, the other rubbing soothing patterns into your back; whispering sweet little nothings into your ear as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and sob. All so much like the day you arrived and saw him for the first time, and yet… softer. More intimate.

You stay like this until your bawling dies down to whimpers and sniffles at which point he gingerly coaxes you to look at him.

“Miláček, listen to me. As it stands now, you have no way of going back to your original world.” He doesn’t call it your home anymore, you notice. “You did not ask for this, you did not choose this; you had it thrust upon you while going through enough pain and grief you considered taking your own life. For the love of everything, you needn’t feel guilty for wanting to use this chance to find happiness again. And you shouldn’t feel guilty if you continue to do so.” Still sniffling you gently caress his face, thumbs running over his chiseled cheekbones and heart stuttering when he leans into your touch. But then you catch sight of the ring on your finger again.

“I’m not… I’m not the person you married, Vik.” Unknowingly, you parrot his own thoughts back to him, but surprisingly enough, he finds he doesn’t much care anymore. He’s flabbergasted how he could ever even doubt for a second that it would matter which timeline you were originally from. Because it’s still you. Damn it all, it’s still you. “Maybe so. But I’ve seen the same kindness in you in those past few months that I’ve always known. The same wit. The same ambition and passion. All the things that made me love you in the first place. You said this gave you the chance to fall in love with me again; would you allow me the chance to do the same?”

The truth is, while you want to try and build a life here, you feel guilty. Guilty about the friends you left fighting a war. Guilty about taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. Guilty about forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. All these months, you’d only ever reciprocated his affections, never initiated them, had barely let him touch you at all, because you’d always felt like somehow you were coercing him into cheating on someone he actually loved. But here he is now, telling you that he wants you, this version of you, all of you. Could you really do it? Leave behind everything and everyone you’ve ever known, for a chance at happiness, a fresh start? You had no guarantee that things would go smoothly in this universe either, after all. Wouldn’t you just be playing pretend for the rest of your life?

“So what, we’ll just… pretend like it’s the first time then?” you ask, a quiet breathless laugh accompanying your question. He shrugs and smiles at you. “Something like that. Falling in love with you again and again and again? I could imagine a worse fate.”

So could you. Much, much worse, in fact.

Your expression shifts somewhat without you even realizing and he immediately recognizes that he must’ve triggered some form of painful memory. He places tiny little kisses all over your face, murmuring apologies all the while and when you sigh in contentment it finally dawns on him that this is very much the first time you’ve let yourself enjoy being close with him since you got here. He doesn’t blame you; the moral dilemma that was forced on you would put anyone on edge and make them anxious about what they could allow themselves to experience without some form of consequences. He would prove to you that there would be none, he’d make sure of that; singlehandedly destroy them if they did decide to raise their ugly heads. That you didn’t always need to give and give and ask for nothing in return. That you could take what you wanted and not be punished for it. You’d taught him that after all.

“Moje světlo…?”

Gods have mercy on your soul, you never could say no to him when he used those damn pet names on you.

You crash your lips to his, desperate and practically starved; in direct contrast to all the sweet promises and gentle reassurances you just shared, there’s nothing romantic about it. It’s all tongues and teeth and absolutely filthy and it’s exactly what you need right now. Your back makes contact with the door you’d been oh so insistent on walking out of not even fifteen minutes ago, that thought now the furthest thing from your mind as his hands are already under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Your head falls back against the worn wood with a thump as his lips find your neck, leaving marks and bruises for everyone to see and maybe the moan that escapes your throat with a broken version of his name coupled with how weak your knees already feel could’ve been embarrassing, but you don’t have it in yourself to care; it feels like it’s been years since he last kissed you like this. Touched you like this. The whine of protest as he pulls back is cut short when he drops to his knees in front of you, hands on your hips to keep you in place and placing on last kiss on your stomach before he puts some distance between you both, not more than a few inches really, but still too much for your liking. One hand goes to cover his own, while the other cups his face, trying to tug him closer again, but he refuses. Brows knitting together in confusion and frustration, you’re about to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, but he beats you to it.

“I won’t go further unless you tell me you want this.” You almost laugh, because he can not be serious. How much more obvious could you be? Your own body is doing half the talking for you, really. But of course that’s not exactly what he means. “I want you to admit to me, and more importantly to yourself, that you want this life. I want you to realize that it is perfectly alright for you to be selfish every now and again.”

His words trigger a memory from long ago, when you’d found him passed out on the desk in the lab one too many times. After you’d been done yelling at him, you’d told him that he couldn’t just always give and give and give until there was barely anything left of himself. That it was okay to be a little selfish and take things for himself every once in a while.

Take your own advice, liar.

A voice somewhere in the back of your head purrs bewitchingly and it’s right. You are still lying. Not to him though - to yourself. Telling yourself that you feel guilty for wanting to stay here, when in reality that’s how you should be feeling. But the truth, the real truth, is that you’re scared.

Scared of how little you actually care. About the friends you left fighting a war. About taking over the life and joy of someone else, even if they are a different version of you. About forcing the man you love into a relationship with a person he technically doesn’t even know. You haven’t truly cared about any of it from the get go; always too self righteous to admit it to yourself, though.

Practiced fingers slip from his cheek to the hair at the nape his neck and pull; he goes along willingly this time, head forced back and his eyes lock onto yours, right as fresh, hot tears start to travel down your face. But you’re done grieving; you are livid, plain and simple. “I want this…” you breathe out, so quiet he almost misses it. You don’t stay quiet, though, you can’t anymore, and your voice rises in volume with every sentence spoken. “I want to stay. I want a life with you. All blissful boredom and domesticity. It’s all I ever wanted. Why…? Why was even that too much to ask?!”

He doesn’t have the answer, but he does have the solution, delivered with a slight turn of his head and a kiss to your wrist.

“It wasn’t. It isn’t.”

Breaths heavy and irregular, you simply take in the sight of him: all disheveled hair and kiss swollen lips, pretty blush all the way down to his neck, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of gold left, looking at you so longingly, on his knees for you and you alone; like a worshipper ready to commit any atrocity for the sake and love of their god.

“You can take what you want, anděl. No one will punish you for it. I won’t let them.”

Angel. Oh, the irony. Irony turned certainty. Certainty turned reality.

So take you would. And you wouldn’t bother looking back at the things you’d left behind.

[naehja]

Ok I'm for the Angst today.

For a little (very) angsty idea.

One day Airplane is very tired and frustrated. His work didn't become like he wanted. He had a lot of lore ideas, of relationships ideas…but people wanter porn. People wanted SQQ to suffer (looks to a certain cumcumber). He ended killing or not using characters he loved (without being able to use his ideas about them). People enjoyed Luo Binghe becoming violent, sadistic, pervert (becoming a r*pist). It's not what he wanted. He wanted to write something else with his characters. He wanted another story. Not THAT. But he needed money and people wanted THAT. But he's so frustrated. His story became something he hates….he hates what it became.

At a point, he listen a potcast about Conan Doyle and how he killed his main character to (try to) end the stories about him. Even if he failed since people wanted so much the character's return that he forced himself to find a way to make him survive and return.

And this famous day, he's so frustrated and disillusioned that he wrote about Luo Binghe's death. Like his demon blood, at a point, start to poison the human parts of his body because he's too powerful with his demon powers and he damage his body without realizing it. He writes how Luo Binghe becomes more and more tired, starts to cough blood, etc. How nothing can help him (no plants, meats, or even s*x).

He even writes lore about half demons to justify what happened. So it would no look like if he just invented it recently but had planned it. And so his book…his story, who became something he hated and was frustrated with, ended with Luo Binghe's death.

Half demons doesn't live long. Being 50/50 is dangerous.

Half Demon Body can't bear the fight between the two egal parts of his being: It's like if his own body was destroying half of his adn.

It's only happen with the Heavenly Demons. So the most powerful ones. Airplane even writes that Binghe's father never thought of the possibilty to have a child with a human so never spoke about those problems with his lover (Binghe's bio mum)

To avoid any reincarnation plot, he evens say that Binghe can't reincarne because demon reincarnation and human reincarnation are differents. And since he's 50/50, he can't use any of them.

Airplane, maybe a little drunk: Ha! fuck you! That's for have forced me to do stupid harem plot rather that all the serious and lore things that i wanted to write! You forced me torture and kill SQQ!! Well i kill Luo Binghe!

Airplane: I wish i could see Cumcumber's face when i'll publish that! In your face Hater =)

He has never the possibility to publish it (like for Shen Jiu's backstory) because he dies and is reincarnated as SQH.

He feels bad about a lot of things. Because SQQ's horrible backstory for exemple.

Everything Airplane wrote about this universe happens, right? The backstory of the characters, the deaths of certains characters…except after Shen Yuan being sent there, things seems to change: SQQ's change of behaviour, LQG is saved, etc…

But the change are not because the story is different but because Shen Yuan takes over SQQ's body. So yeah, some things become more and more differents. But others things stay the same.

And SQH realizes that nothing can change Luo Binghe's fate because he 100% wrote that NOTHING could save him and even wrote LORE to justify that nothing could save him. And that seen how everything happens sooner in this universe....

SQH: Well Fuuuuuck

SQH: …Should i tell Cumcumber bro?

*later*

SQQ: What do you mean, the inevitable death of Luo Binghe is coming in the future? OoO

System: Ask the author :/

[bellametre]

Some Ultimate G/T Favourites

I've wanted to do this ever since I saw @gullivertravelstowonderland post the idea. I added a category or two because there's some media I just had to include, but here we go:

Favourite Tiny: Spiller

This shy, wild, golden-hearted dreamboat catalyzed everything for me. I became utterly smitten at the age of nine and went on to watch him in every Borrowers adaptation ever—an obsession that’s still going strong.

Favourite Giant: Optimus Prime

I was so jealous of Shia LaBeouf back in 2007. I don’t even have the toys, but I’ve consumed nearly every comic, show, and movie Optimus Fine appears in. When June Darby in Transformers: Prime says, “And I wore heels and everything”? Same, girl.

Favourite G/T Movie: Ultraman: Rising

If you haven’t seen this movie yet, why are you still here? Go watch it. It’s about a snarky, size-changing superhero who has to look after a baby kaiju. If you need more convincing, just look up a picture of Kenji Sato.

Favourite G/T Show: George Shrinks

Fellow Canadians know this was the show back in the day. Banging intro, unique plot, confident little genius of a protagonist—seriously, this kid made me covet being four inches tall like nobody else. And no, his Zoopercar was not cheating.

Favourite G/T Book: Valiant

Sarah McGuire delivers here: a host of giants, a kick-butt heroine, a villain with a superiority complex, and an attractive lord who gets injured so badly that one of the giants has to “cradle him like an infant” to carry him to safety. Good stuff.

Favourite G/T Manga: Godaigo Daigo

For yet another story about giant heroes protecting cities from monsters, this was a pleasant surprise. Kounosuke showcases all kinds of G/T relationships—coworkers, friends, parents, and romance—and every arc absolutely slaps.

Favourite G/T Webcomic: Piper

The fact that Dr5spectre has been on hiatus for almost two years now is one of the greatest tragedies of our time. But I beg you—check out this comic, especially the AUs. The Goblin of Dornenholtz is so soul-filling it hurts.

Favourite G/T Song: Touchy Feely Fool

It definitely has to be AJR. Not only did I grin like a maniac when I watched the music video, but I like to think the lyrics are about a tiny person who wishes they didn’t have feelings for a giant anymore but simply can’t help themselves.

Favourite G/T Magical World: Roshar *Art by Rocío Sogas

This is probably one that isn’t very well known in the community, but Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive is full of great G/T moments, particularly between the main character Kaladin and his companion Syl, a shapeshifting spren.

Character I Would Like to Shrink/Grow: Loki (MCU) *Art by keiidakamya

Guys, we were robbed. He’s literally part Frost Giant! Yes, we got a taste of it in What If…?, but imagine how the movies could have gone if this had been a form he took when he gained or lost control of himself. Robbed, I tell you.

· · ·

Ahh this was so much fun! I hope some of you feel inspired to try this; I think it would be a great way to find more quality (or not-so-quality) G/T content. There’s so little of it out there, after all.

[aves-rook-laidir]

The Fade Chapter

I wish they had shown more of Emmrich getting Rook out of the Fade. Well, I assumed it was him that managed it, he is the Fade expert, that's why he joined, because that is his very specific skill.

I think it could have been a great way to really show him actively contributing to the main plot with his own specialisation, his quests are interesting but he doesn’t have a big moment like Taash dealing with the Dragons or Lucanis handling the Lyrium Dagger. Just think it would have been a perfect opportunity to not just show his strength but cement Emrrich's role in all this.

I mean, breaking out of that prison was apparently something unfathomable, I like the idea that mortal beings have evolved so much since Solas's time that he couldn't conceive that there was enough talent in the world to break his prison. Not to remove credit from Rooks love and determination that got them out, but I think it would have been better to show Rook and the Companions pushing from both sides.

I really feel like some scenes were cut there...

Solas: How did you get out of the Fade?

Rook: Gestures vaguely to the pretty human man behind her, who waves politely.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

20, 22, 29 fic writer asks my senford!

anything for you zoethur <3<3

Fic Writer Asks <33

20. What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost (or missed connections fic) is one of my favorites!

the song that i took the lyric from fits the fic so so soooo well too. just love the song. love this fic too. y'all should give it a read if ya haven't yet <3

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

usually! or at least, i know which direction i want it to go. like, i always know my fics will have a happy ending. but for the specifics i like for those things to kinda develop naturally as im plotting/writing.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

(the perfect question for someone who has a folder titled "scrapped bits" bc i was taught by one of my favorite college professors to never delete anything you've written bc it might be useful someday)

I don't think I'll ever post the fic i have decided to call Gonorrhea Fic but I have one scene that I edited just now for you all to enjoy <3

Steve stomps away from the counter, little white paper bag in hand. 

The pharmacist’s ‘Have a nice day!’ ringing in his ears like the most annoying alarm set to disturb him in the middle of a heavy sleep. 

He pushes the clinic doors open with too much force, already clicking on Robin’s contact. It only rings once. 

“Its fucking gonorrhea.” he rushes out as soon as she answered. 

He props his phone up with his shoulder so he can fish around the bag for the pill bottle so he can discard his shame that is in the form of the telling pharmacy paper bag in his hand. 

“Shucks, I was rooting for an unplanned pregnancy.” Steve whines as she snorts on the other end and if Steve wasn’t on the verge of tears, he’d have something snarky to say back. 

“No shit it’s gonorrhea! That’s what happens when you go around throwing your hole at anybody who even shows a vague interest in you.” Slander, Steve thinks. This is just slander.

“I only showed my hole to one guy! One hook-up! The celebratory ‘I’m single so let’s see some new peen’ hook-up.” About two weeks ago, Steve finally ended the weird situationship with the guy he’d been hooking up with on the regular. Regular being used loosely in this case, considering he kept ghosting, only coming out to haunt Steve’s call log any time between 11pm and 3am. But Steve was hung up and didn’t want to keep being a booty call, not for someone he started to have actual feelings for. 

“And then I go and pick the one who has the fucking clap!” he whisper-screams into the receiver. Robin’s hollering like a fucking hyena on the other end. He pulls the pamphlet on safe sex out of the bag, along with the orange pill bottle as he walks directly into someone, sending both of the objects flying out of his hands and onto the ground.

All of his athletic ability proving to be pointless as the stranger beats him to the pill bottle, rolling away.

Robin's laugh is the backdrop to the most embarrassing moment of his life, as the stranger (who is stupidly hot) picks up both the bottle and the pamphlet, his face screwing up into a knowing smirk.

Of course he has the most gorgeous set of brown eyes, shaggy hair not being able to cover up the notch in his brow, which is suggestively quirked up at Steve as he checks him out. Right there, no shame, in front of the damn clinic. Holding his STI meds.

"I think you're gonna need these."

Steve wishes whatever is in control of the universe would strike down and kill him, here and now.

"Thanks." He snatches his things, eyes on the ground in an attempt to hide how red he knows his face is.

Steve shoves the bottle into the pocket of his jeans, crumpling the pamphlet up in his hand as he speed-walks the hell away from the guy.

[raisinushigher]

i think one of the biggest factors for why the dynamic of tophabe is so addicting at least to me and Maybe other people who enjoy them is the way their motivations and needs as characters fit into eachother so perfectly. and i think the most basic summary of that is topher is very possessive of things and likes to be the one in control of things, and abe, while also wishing to be in a position of responsibility and authority, more often just wants to be accepted at all. any sort of relationship that topher has with anyone - apart from the bleacher creatures - is always doomed from the moment they meet because of how overbearing and entitled he is, however with abe, even after topher crossed him like he does with pretty much everyone at some point, abe holds pretty much no grudge against him because that’s just the type of person he is. abe’s absolute biggest weakness in the entire show apart from his cluelessness and naivety, is how he doesnt stand up for himself. this is probably going to be disproven since they haven’t even had a proper interaction at all since the whole thing so hold pretty much nothing to this, but not once has he said something like wait why am i talking to you?? you blackmailed me!! while talking to topher. abe’s whole thing is he never stops viewing people as his friends even when they mistreat him. once abe sees you as a friend of his there’s almost no turning back. and while im not entirely sure what he thought of topher during the time in season 2 where they appeared to be regularly talking to eachother, that seems to still hold true with them. tldr its the same features that hinder both of them from having truly good relationships and deter other people from them that really make them click as a duo

[moeblob]

I like the fact Tremaine's designated color is pink while Germaine's is maroon because if I draw them together it looks so bright and happy but they're in a dying world and both commit crimes many times a week just to survive. But hey, whatever.

If love is how they die, it beats starvation or injury! So letting them be codependent is like a treat almost.

[elizasidepiece]

me when I listen to "Say Don't Go" by t swift and imagine remadora

[amethystina]

For the wipe tag game:

May I inquire about :

The devil's due ( I have been hooked since the first chapter that u posted. It's such an interesting idea with so many possibilities)

The gentle light ( will we get more of yohan's poverty?)

Thank u, and have a nice day 🩵

Thank you so much for the ask!

The Devil's Due

Oh man, this one. I am hooked on this one too, but I keep holding it off because I know it'll be pretty long and it's also going to be pretty, uh, sexually charged? And that intimidates me x'D

But yeah, I LOVE the idea and the possibilities it offers. It's a story that would focus on Ga On and Yo Han's relationship without the power imbalance of them being chief and subordinate. That's to say that Ga On is going to be even feistier than in canon, if you can believe that. And he's going to be more aware of his sexuality and what he actually wants — or who, I guess I should say.

The main plot would really just be Ga On getting to know Yo Han — and Elijah — during different circumstances. And the biggest conflict will be the fire and whether or not Yo Han caused it, plus Yo Han trying to open Ga On's eyes to the corruption in their country. The main portion of the fic would be set a couple of years after the first chapter, and a couple of years before the start of the drama. So they're all a little less jaded and, since the situation is so different — Ga On isn't sent to spy on him, for one — Yo Han won't be as defensive. But he's obviously also going to be, well, Yo Han. He's working as a normal judge, trying not to draw too much attention to himself — biding his time for his revenge, and all that — but he would definitely not mind having some fun with the bright-eyed, reformed delinquent he saved from a life as a criminal.

As a treat.

As with many of my WIPs at the moment, this fic is mostly just a collection of lines of dialogue from various scenes, with no connecting text around them. So there are no complete snippets I can show, but I can say that the first time they do something sexual together it's because Ga On has finally had it with Yo Han's teasing and flirting and just marches into his office — at Yo Han's work, yes — and goes:

Ga On: "Fine. Let's fuck."

Yo Han, after a small pause: "Right now?"

Ga On, very scathingly: "Do you want me to schedule an appointment?"

Yo Han: "You're an absolute delight when you're angry."

There are reasons why Ga On is being so blunt, I want to point out, because he wouldn't usually be. Again: Yo Han and his manipulation tactics.

... and yes, they do have sex right then and there, in Yo Han's office. Which is one of the reasons why I'm afraid to write this. I'm way out of my depth here x'D

But I will continue eventually! I like the story way too much to give up on it :)

The Gentle Light

As for this one, I was kind of shocked to realise that I have a lot more written on chapter 2 than I initially thought. It takes place right after the first chapter, so basically Yo Han's side of the very loaded conversation that takes place during chapter 7. I've just been adding bits and pieces here and there when I've felt like it and now I have almost 4 000 words. Imagine that.

Here's a snippet!

---

Yo Han slowly walked up the steps leading to Kim Ga On's apartment, his hand sliding along the railing. The metal was cold against the mess of scar tissue on his palm, sending a chill up his arm. Yo Han paid that no mind, focusing instead on taking in his surroundings. While he'd known Ga On's address ever since K did the first background check, Yo Han had never actually been to visit before.

There had never been a reason for him to — until now.

As Yo Han finished climbing the first set of stairs, his gaze swept briefly over the terrace to his left, then flicked upward, toward the rooftop. There was apparently another terrace up there, but it was dark for the time being and therefore not of much interest to Yo Han.

Instead, he turned and looked out at the surrounding buildings. The neighborhood was as run-down as he'd expected, debris littering the streets and the majority of the buildings in desperate need of repairs — some even looked abandoned. Or perhaps the owners had simply given up, choosing to huddle inside the dark, decrepit shells of what used to be their homes, waiting for the end to come. That seemed common in these parts, where unemployment and hopelessness blanketed every house and street corner, sucking the life out of those few remaining.

Yo Han could tell it hadn't always been that way, though. There were glimpses of a once lively neighborhood hiding underneath the grime and despair, the descent probably having happened slowly over time as the economy kept getting worse and worse — money getting tighter and tighter. And, eventually, whether they wanted to or not, the people had no choice but to give in.

It made sense, Yo Han supposed, for Kim Ga On to have grown up in a place like this, where he'd had to watch what he once knew wither away and fall into disrepair in front of his very eyes.

That deeply rooted disdain for the rich must have come from somewhere, after all.

---

A lot of what I have so far is basically just Yo Han sauntering around in front of Ga On's apartment, observing things and drawing conclusions about Ga On. It's kind of adorable in it's own way xD But things obviously take a very dramatic turn once Ga On shows up, some of which I've shown before in snippets that you can find here.

I can't promise I'll ever post this, though, since I'd obviously have to finish it first and this is very far down on my list of priorities right now. But we'll see, I guess? If I keep chipping away at it one piece at a time, eventually it will be finished.

I hope you like it! And you have a nice day, too 💜

WIP Tag Game

[robotpanties]

uuuuuhhh no reason just wanna see the robot get preggers because nobody is really taking advantage of the narrative consequences of the robots of ULTRAKILL having fleshy bits inside them (in my humble opinion hahahaha...hahaha....hah....). Anywhosen also a sucker for general Bad End especially when it involves a psycho-sexual (breeding) binding to a greater entity but also I wanna see the murder-robot get knocked up. And the galaxy brain bit of this is instead of calming down they just get Worse.

YEAH NO ONE REALLY TAKES ADVANTAGE OF THAT. and well i mostly assumed a very small percentage of people actually want to breed the robots like that which is why.

also i don't think this as a bad end, but a bad path that can lead to some other.. inch resting things (my stupid ass is trying to craft a plot with horror and drama from this path and how it'd change the story slightly despite knowing I will never get around to writing it in fic form except tiny excerpt ideas and art)

also i have so much to say abt the 'it doesn't calm down it just gets worse' bc its So true

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: THE CITADEL (PART 1)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Thane Krios With: Flight Lt. Jeff "Joker" Moreau, Councilor Rannadril Bibsos Tembin Lesti Bensin Valern, Cmdr. Armando-Owen Bailey, and Kai Leng Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention. Guide this one to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one, Kalahira, and she will be a companion to you as she was to me. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[gl1tchxr]

born to draw my ocs in a boring pose on a blank background over and over 💪

[pipskippy]

theres something abt suzaku and lelouch that makes for really nice atmospheric dreams for me i think it’s a big part of why cg has stuck with me lolll. very fitting actually bc i originally watched it because i kept having dreams about it and got curious…

[lgclili]

XU LI YIFEI LILI, PERFORMER. ENCHANTED WAVES SANCTUM

she is a girl, just like the rest. her father sees her as such. no different than the others, just like the others, one more daughter to add to the his master plan. her father lacks nothing: daughters, wealth, nor ambition. she was just another one to be used for their father’s egostistic power play. her father, the founder of a well-known informant guild, had married into her mother’s noble family. the li family were well suited to his claims for power: they had both wealth and influence, built from years of triumph and trust; desirable attributes that only aided in her father’s ambitions.

pretty and quiet, this is your cross to bear. one of seven daughters, she is not the eldest, not the youngest, she is just a daughter — pretty and quiet, taught the bare minimum, ready to be sold off like cattle to the highest bidder. she’s seen it happen four times already in her twenty-three years. does she yearn for more? perhaps — there’s no other life she’s known except the one she’s seen within the walls of the li estate. outside was unheard of — a life she could only revere in her dreams. and in her dreams, the outside world is beyond the chains that hold her in this hell she calls home.  ( it is why, when she gets her first taste of freedom; stowing away in the servants' cart had been deplorable but thrilling, all the same, she wonders why had she waited so long to take a step out )

death becomes you. tw: sibling death, death by childbirth. her second eldest sister dies in childbirth. it’s an awful affair — the man was thirty years her senior and had left his wife to die as he held his newborn in his hands. to his dismay, the babe is also a daughter. promised a son, despite the self-evident reality that the li family found their luck in their daughters, he comes to her father with an ire to burn and an even more appalling offer. from this blasphemy comes yifei’s worst nightmare come to life. 

she is just a girl, just like the rest, part two. she’s known since she was five who she was to marry. it had been engrained into her memory with each waking moment and with every trivial interaction. her marriage had been decided for her and whether it be by the grace of god or not, at least, yifei didn’t dislike him. it is only when her sister dies does lili finally see the monster in her father. he is not only calculating, he is also heartless. her sister’s husband wished to replace her — with yifei. a payment for the defective wife he had lost. the night lili learns of this truth, is the night that changes everything.

death becomes you, part two. tw: murder, death by arson. she hadn’t meant for it to happen. at least — not in the way it did. she was to leave the estate in a fortnight, to depart for her new husband’s home and be his wife, bear his children and maybe, live the life her poor sister should have breathed. this is what should have happened. but suddenly the main hall is engulfed in flames and only yifei is there to watch it fall, ashes to ashes. ( she doesn’t remember how she gets out, had someone helped her? had she run off on her own? all she knows is by the time the pocket realm opens up, she’s on the run and suddenly her face is plastered all over posts within the district )

on the run: she is just a girl, unlike the rest, reprise. she changes her name. relinquishes claim of her sisters — prays that they had made it out alive, unlike her bastard of a father — but it’s too late, her new life had begun. a performer in the enchanted waves sanctum was not what she had always dreamed of but surprisingly it was better than what she had always known, if one could believe it. at least it was until one day she chances her face, its distinctive features all dressed up in charcoal, nailed to the post and a fear strikes her. the pocket realm hadn’t been her first choice but it had been the best one at the time. if she was on the run, there was no way they could find her from within, right? she could only hope.

[an-theduckin]

Btw ik it's been a rlly long time since I've updated the a day in the life of mark fanfic (it's been 1 month and 5 days) but I'm fr working on it alr it's just cuz writers block + imposter syndrome + the first few chapters after chapter 10 being the most confusing ass chapters ever n I'm still tryna figure out out to do the pacing of them n stuff. I'm rlly genuinely sorry it's taken this long I didn't think that would happen it was only supposed to be like a 2 week break. So yeag I'm really sorry about that