#if you can put trigger warnings in books there can also be information about a book originally being a fanfic

[moyarb]

My Christmas was going so well until I was informed that a book I was really excited to read (and spent money on) was originally a Reylo fic. How am I supposed to practice "If you don't like it, don't read it" when you're literally disguising it?

[thatdeadaquarius]

About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Rhysand calls for a meeting so you and the rest of the Inner Circle can decide what to do next. Azriel stands by your side every step of the way.

Warnings: Angst (not that bad)

Word Count: 6680

Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3 ○ Part 5

The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.

You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.

The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.

The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.

There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.

It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.

Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.

You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.

There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.

Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.

From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.

A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.

You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.

Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.

That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.

Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.

You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.

Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.

You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.

Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.

You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.

You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.

It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.

You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.

Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.

The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.

You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.

You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.

He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.

So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.

“Are you ready?”

Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.

You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.

As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.

You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.

Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.

Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.

You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.

You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.

Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.

As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.

You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.

Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.

“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.

“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”

“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.

Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”

“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”

“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”

You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.

“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.

Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.

“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.

“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.

You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”

“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.

“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”

“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.

“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”

“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.

You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.

“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.

“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.

The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.

You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.

“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.

You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.

Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.

“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.

You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”

His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.

“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.

His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.

Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.

You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.

Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.

“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.

“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”

“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your��� accident.”

“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”

“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.

“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”

“Either way, we need to find him.”

“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.

“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”

Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.

“How do you want to find him?”

The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”

“You want to use me as bait,”

“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.

“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”

He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.

The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.

As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.

The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.

Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.

You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.

Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.

Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.

“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”

The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.

“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.

The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.

You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.

You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.

As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.

His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.

He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”

“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.

He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”

Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.

“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.

“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”

He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.

A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.

“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.

“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”

His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.

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[lieslab]

Will you have me or watch me fall?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: You're part of Chan's mafia, but after you lose your leg in a car accident, coping with the grief and pain seems to be nothing short of hell on earth.

Genre: Mafia AU

Word Count: 4.1K

Trigger warning: Descriptions of a car accident, alcohol, a creepy asshole, physical assault, depression, anxiety, grief, mentions of wanting to die, and insecurities.

A/N: I know this isn't a request, but I had an urge to write something mafia related. Also, I've realized that there are a lot of people out there that live with some physical struggles and disabilities that some people really don't think much about and that includes me. So I've created this to shed some light on something that some people have faced and live with daily. It's a shot in the dark, but I hope it makes someone feel seen <3

_ _ _

It was all you had ever known for years. For so long, you forgot what ordinary life was life. A mirage of tangled memories seemed to be there and then they fell. They entirely fell apart within the span of an hour. One moment you were driving and glancing down to switch the radio. The next, you were screaming as you swerved the wheel to avoid the oncoming semi-truck. 

Whether you had changed lanes while switching stations or it crossed into yours, you didn’t know. Life turned into a hazy blur in those few seconds. Time came to a screeching halt as you lost control of your car. Glass shattered, you felt yourself flip, your forehead went flying into the steering wheel, and then your neck snapped back into the headrest. 

When you came back around, red and blue flashing lights mixed with the high-pitched whirring of an ambulance. It smelled like burnt rubber and gasoline. There were faint voices of cops and someone was calling out to you, but you didn’t understand it. 

Your head was trapped in a fog and nothing made sense. There was a tingling sensation in your leg that wouldn’t go away. When you drifted back into the unconscious void, the feeling was still there. It was the last thing you felt before the world went dark. 

When you wake up in the hospital after a major accident, the main task of nurses and doctors is to keep you relaxed. Putting you in distress can cause a delay in healing of your injuries. It’s important to feed you information a little at a time, especially if you’re not fully there. 

It took you three days of fading in and out of consciousness before you found Bang Chan’s voice and it stuck. As the leader of the group, he had been there from the start. In your phone, he was the first emergency contact. When he first got the call and it was reported that you were in an accident, he thought of the worst things possible. 

Maybe you were brain dead and just barely surviving; forced to use a breathing tube to keep your organs alive. Perhaps, you were unrecognizable in that bed. Your body smashed from blunt force trauma and a brain injury that would leave you the shell of who you once were. 

During the whole ride there, all he could do was clutch his steering wheel and begin to pray for your safety. He flew out of the house still in his pajamas. Shirtless in gray sweatpants, he threw on a black hoodie for the sake of the people he’d encounter. His sneakers were barely tied as he booked it to his car and tried to get to you as fast as possible. 

As for you? The pieces of the puzzle came together once Chan rushed through the double doors. The squeaky sterile floors with too bright white lights. A face full of worry and lips pushed tight together in a straight line of fear. He didn’t have the heart to ask the nurse how you were. 

When he saw you hooked up to the heart rate monitor and a bag of pain meds, he nearly burst into tears. The sight of you covered in scrapes and bruises was haunting. The nurse reassured him that they were doing everything they could to take care of you. 

It took three days until you were awake long enough to hear the details from Chan. You went out on an evening drive to clear your head. They didn’t know what exactly happened, but you lost control of the car and you ended up slamming into a fully grown maple tree. 

In the dead of night, overturned maple leaves fluttered above the car like a protective canopy. The scent of petrichor hung in the ozone. The threat of a severe thunderstorm hanging in the balance made the entire scene so much worse. 

Cops, firefighters, and paramedics mingled as they attempted to get you out of the vehicle to the hospital. You knew you were injured, you remembered the pain in your leg before you fell victim to the darkness. You assumed you broke your leg and maybe, if you were unfortunate enough, maybe in multiple places. 

Out of everything you could have imagined, losing your leg wasn’t one of them. Even hearing the words uttered from Chan’s lips, you couldn’t believe it. You refused to believe any of it until you ripped the wool blanket from over your body. To your surprise, the lower half of your leg was missing. Wrapped in multiple bandages and stitched together with stitches, all you could do was stare in horror while your brain attempted to process the missing limb. 

That was months ago. Days blended together between pain medicine, doctor visits, rehabilitation, occupational therapists, and the new normal. Everyone is different when it comes to amputation. Some people receive prosthetics quicker than others. Some deal with infections and some suffer so much mental anguish that living day to day without a limb, it seems unbearable. 

As for you, you hid the truth about your feelings. The mental torture, the realization that you’d never have both legs, and having to rely on others, it was taking a toll and it had been since it happened. 

You lived your life on your own terms. You always had and you always planned to. Yeah, you were part of the gang, but you were independent as hell. Nobody could tell you what to do unless it was Chan. That was just how it was and how you lived your life. 

Relearning and coping with the new normal, it left you with sleepless nights. On the nights you struggled with phantom limb pain, the feeling of pain where your leg was no longer attached, you kept your crying sessions silent. Through every tingle, cramp, and ache, you kept it to yourself. To the guys, you were a trooper, but in your own head, you were a failure. 

Chan forced you to stay out of missions while you healed. One night, you had enough. On the shiny metal prosthetic, you slammed the door open to the meeting room while Chan was explaining the next mission. 

Your sudden appearance was a shock to everyone, including him. “I want in,” you finally uttered. “I want in this mission and you don’t get to tell me no. If I have to stay here while you all go somewhere again, I’ll lose it.” 

The guys all exchanged glances. Chan’s eyes looked down at the clipboard he was holding. He didn’t look thrilled about it, but he couldn’t say no to you. After a few moments of silence, he finally gestured you to the empty seat that used to be yours. You walked over, sat down, and he began reassigning parts again. 

That was last month and ever since, you were still struggling to cope. Losing a limb is never easy. From the tip of a pinkie being slammed in a car door, a hand being crushed in a factory, to an arm being ripped off via a combine, or a crushed leg in a car accident; no matter how small, they weren’t easy. 

From self-doubt, to shame and embarrassment, the emotional exhaustion when it comes to retelling the story over and over and over again to everyone who asks; losing a limb is hard. The phantom pain that lingers from hours to days, the physical exhaustion from trying to heal, and the mental toll it takes on everyone around you, it’s not always easy to get through. 

Tonight’s mission, you found yourself on the dance floor of some random club. Most members were spread throughout the area with ear-pieces in their ears and you were no different. You found yourself on the dance floor. 

Spinning under dazzling light and feeling the bass blast through you beneath your sturdy feet, you finally felt free. Across the way, Chan and Minho kept an eye on you from a table. To blend in, the two of them had drinks that they seemed to be nursing. 

The rest of the guys were scattered throughout the club. Someone at the front entrance and another at the back. Someone lazily leaned over the balcony above and a few more blended between the lively crowds of drunk and tipsy people. From where you moved around on the dance floor, you knew exactly who you were looking for. Chan had drilled the guy’s appearance into everyone’s brains. Apparently, he crossed Chan and that was unforgivable in Chan’s eyes. 

Whether it was unpaid dues, straight up fuckery, or making threats that’d never be carried out, crossing Chan was like crossing God. The difference between Chan and God was that you could pray and God would forgive you. You could get on your knees and plead for your life in front of Chan, but a dead man was a dead man. 

At a small table, Chan sucked in a deep breath as his nostrils flared. Minho glanced over at Chan and realized he was looking over at you. “You know that they’re fine, right? They’re taking care of themselves pretty well.” 

“I don’t appreciate how many people are approaching them. I don’t like any of it. I should have had them skip this mission.” 

“You can’t keep them from these things forever.” 

“Well, I can fucking try!” He snapped angrily. He stood up and slammed his chair beneath the table. Minho rolled his eyes while Chan’s half-empty glass of whisky spilled outside of the cup. He reached over to clean it up and Chan headed in your direction. 

There was pulsing energy looping around the place, but he couldn’t focus on it. Ever since you lost your leg, he’d been worried about you, they all had. Warm bodies were pressed up against one another. The air inside the bar smelled like cigarette smoke, a faint whiff of alcohol, and the overpowering stench of sweat. 

The alcohol made everyone too warm. The tipsy and swaying dance floor, the beat of the drums, the way the dancers shifted throughout the place and snaked around men like snakes, he hated it. He hated that this was the only place he thought they’d be able to capture the target. 

A hand slithered across his shoulder and he shoved it off. One of the dancers wore a sheer lilac bodysuit. Pale skin shone through the sheerness and he wanted to roll his eyes, but he held it back. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared, but he wanted his attention to focus on you. 

“What’s a hot guy like you doing out here all by yourself? What’s got your dick in a twist? Hmm?” 

“Save it,” he grumbled as he kept walking. 

“I could fix your problems with a private dance.” 

“Not interested.” 

“They’re on sale tonight for-” 

“I said I’m not interested! Get lost!” Too irritated and annoyed, the next group of drunk people he came up to and wouldn’t move, he shoved through them. Not caring that they stumbled and almost fell, his eyes were still set on you. 

On the dance floor, you had been stopped by some middle aged guy. His hand found your hip and when it did, you jerked away instantly. “Don’t do that, I’m not interested.” 

“Aw, come on!” He called out to you. He stepped closer to you and grinned. “A pretty person like you could use a bit o-” 

“I meant what I said.” 

He laughed, not quite believing you. His hand cupped your torso and slid down and that’s when you snapped. Your hands shot out and you shoved the guy back. He stumbled and just barely managed to catch himself. “Hey! What the hell was that for?” 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“What are you going to do about it?” His dark eyebrows furrowed. He stepped closer, nearly pressing his chest right against yours. A feeling of disgust crept up your throat, so you took a step back. 

Upset and feeling frustrated, you spun around to go back to the guys. You wanted to be near people you felt comfortable with. Besides, your prosthetic was starting to irritate your leg anyway. You were used to walking with it and sometimes jumping and running, but you hadn’t used it much to dance. 

When you didn’t put up a fight, the guy saw red. He had been watching you for a while and all he wanted was a dance. Walking away from him hurt his ego. With an angry huff, he jerked his foot out. With a loud clunk, it slammed into the back of your prosthetic leg hard. 

Chan’s eyes widened and he rushed through the crowd to get to you. On the dark floor, a choir of gasps and murmurs echoed around you. A lump built up in your throat at the pain surrounding your stump, but you refused to let tears fall. 

Instead, your shaky fingers reached towards the disconnected limb. The force from the guy and the way you fell, it knocked it right off. You blinked rapidly and fiddled with the velcro strap to tighten it. 

Sweat soaked the end of the stub. The darkness and the glossiness from tears made it difficult to see. You sniffled and just when you thought you might be slowly getting somewhere, Chan dropped to the ground beside you. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You faintly nodded, but your eyes didn’t meet his. You couldn’t bear to have him see you so weak. In front of this many people, you were already embarrassed. Shame filled you and flooded your system. 

A wave of anger swept over Chan, but he forced it down. He wanted to go after the guy and knock his lights out, but his attention was focused on you. His fingers swept against yours and pulled them away from the fake limb. “I’ve got it, let me.” 

You didn’t fight him because you were exhausted. You were so tired and drained. You wanted to go home and curl beneath the covers. You wanted to cry until it was impossible to cry anymore. You wanted to drown in your tears and self-misery. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

You shook your head. He stood up and reached out for your hands. You let him tug you to your feet and you placed all your weight on your good foot. When his hands move to your hips to steady you, he noticed the shift instantly. A frown filled his face and he scanned you up and down. “Why did you do that?” 

You shrugged, but he wasn’t buying it. He moved your body, so you were forced to evenly distribute your weight. The moment you put weight on your prosthetic, pain shot through your leg. A yelp escaped your mouth and you jerked your weight back to the good leg. 

His eyes went back to your prosthetic and he frowned. His eyes scanned your face, hoping you’d admit the truth. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you weakly managed to get out. 

He stared at you and a stern look came across his face. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know something is wrong, so just tell me what it is. I want to help you, so please, what’s wrong?” One of his hands reached up to cup your cheek and that’s when your heart free fell. 

You blinked rapidly again, more tears began to well in your eyes. “Not here.” 

A soft sigh escaped his parted lips and he slowly scooped you into his arms. You didn’t fight it as he fought the crowd and managed to get you into the bathroom. He locked the door behind you and walked you over to the porcelain sink. 

It probably wasn’t the best place, but it was the only place for now. You sat along the edge and your legs dangled towards the tiled ground. “What happened?” He tried again as his fingers began to undo your limb. 

“A guy kicked the back of it.” 

“I saw.” 

“It hurt when I fell. The plastic section dug into my stump. There’s scarred tissue and it’s still tender sometimes. It just hurt, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Chan muttered beneath his breath. His fingers worked quickly to remove the limb and the silicone slip that covered your stump. The compression sock that you wore for support beneath it came off next. 

Gentle fingers tenderly worked their way around the amputated leg. Shame filled you once more and your eyes found the ground. This wasn’t the first time that something like this happened and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Ever since your leg had been amputated, everything was different. About a month after you were comfortable walking around on your new leg, Chan made everyone learn how to put it on you and take it off. You were so used to being independent, but this had been a major setback. You were forced to rely on people while your leg healed. 

When his fingers slipped across a red inkling marking the side of your leg, you winced. He frowned and his eyes went to meet yours, but you still refused to look at him. 

His voice came out softly when he spoke again. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” You didn’t respond, but he knew. He could see it in the way the glassiness in your eyes built up. Your bottom lip quivered and he knew you were close to cracking. 

“Look at me.” 

When you didn’t, he reached out and gently took your chin. He tilted your head towards him. “I don’t believe you. How bad does it hurt?” 

“Like a rug burn.” 

He shook his head. “No. There’s no way it’s just like that. If you fell and the sides cut into your skin, you have to be hurting a lot. How much does it hurt?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“Because I care about you.”

“Who cares about a bruised ego?” Your voice was hoarse as the tears finally silently fell down your cheeks. Chan’s heart dropped straight to the pit of his stomach. You reached up and quickly wiped away the falling tears.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. You don’t have to do that thing where you pretend to be strong in front of me. It’s okay if you fall apart. There’s nothing wrong with having a moment to-” 

“I don’t want to have a moment!” You cut him off with a shrill voice. “Who gives a shit about a bruised ego? So what? Life goes on. Whatever.” 

“I give a shit.” 

“I-I wish,” tears slid down your cheeks faster, “I wish I would have died in the car accident. I should have died and I-” 

Out of all the things he had heard you say since the accident, it was never anything like that. His fingers were still cupped around your chin. His fingers tightened their grip and he shook his head. “Don’t say that, you don’t mean that. You don’t mean that you-” 

“I do! I mean it with everything! I mean every fucking word!” 

The limbo he was stuck in at the hospital came rushing back to him. The way he felt like he was suffocating while he waited for you to wake up. The aimless walks around the barren hospital while he waited for your eyes to flutter open, so he could see them again. 

Everyone was holding their breaths and assuming the worst. The group chat kept blowing up, but you never responded. As Chan texted the guys, they didn’t want to believe it. The prayers, the worry, the fear that they’d never see you alive again. 

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand.” 

“It would have been better than-” 

“It wouldn’t have been better for anyone! You’re part of our family!” His voice came out exasperated. “You don’t know what it was like to wonder if you were ever going to wake up again! Do you have any idea how much you even mean to us? Stop saying that!” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” 

“Stop being so stubborn! Stop acting like it’d have been better if you died! Stop acting like you don’t care! I never want to hear you say anything like that ever again!” 

“You don’t get it!” Your voice grew louder. “You have no fucking clue what it’s like!” You slapped his hand away and watched his face fall with shock. 

 “I don’t know what it’s like?” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t know what it’s like? Bullshit! Do you know what it’s like when someone you love is on the brink of death?” 

“Stop making this about you! It’s not and it never has been!” The tears were hot rolling down your cheeks. It was a pool of lava around your heart bubbling and now it was exploding. “You’re not the one missing a leg! It’s not about you, it’s about me! You don’t have to wake up feeling useless every fucking morning!” 

“Don’t say that, you’re not useless. No matter how many limbs you have, you’re not useless.” 

“Every time we go out on missions, I’m not trusted anymore. I’m constantly being watched by everyone. The attention is on me and not on the surroundings. If something happens one day and someone gets hurt because I-” Your voice cut off. 

“That’s not going to happen,” he tried to reason with you. 

“You don’t know that. I-I don’t need to be watched all the time. I don’t need to be treated like a kid.” 

You were killing him. It was killing him internally to see you so broken and so vulnerable. You were always so independent and so fierce that he never considered how much their actions could be hurting you. 

His hands gently cupped your cheeks and he wiped your eyes. “We just want you to be safe. We’re worried about you and we almost lost you once. We can’t bear to nearly lose you again.” 

“I can’t even cook without being supervised. I can’t go shopping at the mall alone. I can’t go get coffee like I used to without someone tagging along. I can’t even go on a simple walk around the block. I have to be followed by someone and practically walked around like a dog.” 

“I-” 

“Save it! I-I’m grown and I know I almost died, but I-” You were practically choking back sobs. You could feel the warmth of his hand cupping your cheek, but you couldn’t see the worry and guilt in his eyes through your tears. 

You couldn’t see how much your words were physically killing him and causing him pain. He wanted you to be able to do things yourself, but he was terrified. He was so afraid of losing you that it was easier to capture you in a metaphorical cage than let you go free. 

At least, if you were with the guys, he knew you’d be safe. If you fell, they’d be there to help you. If your prosthetic hurt your leg, they could carry you to safety. They’d go to the ends of the earth to protect you, but along the way, he had forgotten what it must have been like for you. 

To constantly have someone hanging and looming over your shoulder in the background. No wonder you were so upset to the point that you were breaking down in front of him. He was so worried about you, he forgot the amount of stress and guilt that was eating you up too. 

Instead of speaking, he pulled you tight into his chest. You sobbed as your head curled protectively into his neck. In his arms, the outside world couldn’t get to you. The weight of the world wasn’t yours anymore, it was pulled away and lingered above. You could finally breathe for a few moments. 

The steady pulse of Chan’s heartbeat thrummed against your cheek. A hand gently came back to your back to soothe you and the gesture caused you to cry harder. You were so mentally exhausted and tired. Everything seemed to be a nightmare and it never stopped. 

Life without a limb was hard for everyone involved. From family and friends to the potential love of your life, it was difficult. New challenges were faced and fears were unlocked. As Chan soothed you, he forced himself to calm down. 

As much as it scared him and frightened him, he had to let go of all those fears. It wasn’t fair to keep you held captive. You deserved to feel like you had your independence back and he hated how weak he had accidentally made you feel. 

The only place he wanted to keep you captive was just like this; in his arms, right where you belonged to begin with. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

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[oneshotnewbie]

hii! i would like to request maya x carina x reader, where reader is still in college/university and a whole incident happens. r is taken as hostage and carina and maya panic after getting a call. really angsty pls

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the mention of a rampage and a brief mention of a hostage situation. Those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

For you, the university was not only a place of learning, but also a melting pot of emotions. As the daughter of Maya and Carina, you felt the expectations weighing on your shoulders. Your mother, a respected obstetrician-gynecologist, had already made her mark in the medical world, and you felt the urge to follow in her footsteps.

Your parents had never put any pressure on you to follow the same path as either of them. Nevertheless, you felt an inner obligation to continue your family tradition. Even as a little girl, you listened with fascination when your mother talked about the challenges and successes of her job. The love of medicine seemed to be embedded in your DNA.

The campus pulsed with life as you moved through the crowd, clutching your books on anatomy and surgery, eager to head to your lectures. Like every day, your heart beat faster with excitement and a hint of uncertainty.

In your first year at university you found yourself in a world characterized by complex theories and demanding internships. The anatomy books became your constant companion and you learned to understand human anatomy like a puzzle. In the labs, you made precise cuts and analyzed tissue samples with the dedication of an artist who wanted to perfect every detail of her work.

The challenges of studying became clear as you approached your first internship at the hospital. Beads of sweat appeared on your forehead as you assisted in your first procedure. The smell of disinfectant and the hum of medical equipment surrounded you. You felt the responsibility getting bigger and bigger.

But with each passing day, not only did the challenge grow, but so did your passion. You soaked up the knowledge like it was the sweetest honey and found comfort in the advice of your professors.

The lecture hall you had just entered was filled with a hushed murmur of inquisitive students as you slumped in your seat. The excited atmosphere before another exciting lecture permeated the room as the professor began to talk about the latest advances in surgery. Surrounded by attentive fellow students, you listened intently to the expert's words and the technical details that rained down on you.

The projections on the wall showed complex surgical procedures as the professor delivered her explanations with enthusiasm and expertise and you tried to understand the connections between the details. You found yourself in a stream of information that took you into the fascinating world of medical innovations. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, taking in every sentence as if they could be keys to some secret knowledge.

Just before the professor was about to play a video showing complex open-heart surgery, a shrill alarm code, followed by an urgent warning, ripped through the air. "Attention, active shooter. Barricade yourself in the rooms." The room froze for a moment. You sat up, your eyes wide in surprise. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Students frantically ran to corners and sought shelter under tables. The professor tried in vain to calm the panicked crowd. But the situation escalated further when muffled shots were heard from outside the building. Recognizing this soundscape captured the attention of everyone in the room. Faces faded with fear and a feeling of helplessness spread.

Your heart was in your throat, you could hear the pulsing of your own heartbeat as you also pushed yourself into a corner, trying to keep a clear head. Panic was in the air, and thoughts of the surgical procedures and advances paled in front of the pressing reality.

A wave of fear passed through you and your thoughts whirled wildly. The idea of the place of learning becoming a scene of violence shook you to the core.

In a moment that seemed like an eternity, doors were thrown open and hooded figures entered. Another wave of fear swept through the room as people realized that this was no mere alarm, but a cruel reality. The shadow of disaster had entered the lecture hall.

Armed men in dark clothes now dominated the scene. Your class was taken hostage and a cold shiver ran through your body. Your eyes searched for allies, for a means of escape, but the men with weapons clung to their control over the desperate crowd.

The professor, your fellow students and you were trapped in a nightmare that was unfolding at breakneck speed. The situation worsened when the men began making demands and firing wildly in the air. You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a threatening drama that you never thought possible.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maya and Carina stood in the fire station's supply room, surrounded by boxes full of medical supplies, taking inventory of necessary medical supplies. The mood was focused as the two checked lists and made sure all life-saving supplies were present.

"Do you think we should order more bandages? To be on the safe side?" the blonde asked as she pulled out individual small packages, counted them and then sorted them into the cupboards. "Yes, I think so. You can't have enough of them, especially on larger missions."

The sounds of the plastic wraps and packaging had created a calming atmosphere, but it was suddenly broken by a shrill voice. Victoria, who until recently had been sitting in the relaxation room, stormed into the small inventory room, her eyes wide with dismay. "You must come with me immediately," she said in a trembling voice. Her hands were gripping the remote control tightly.

Maya and Carina exchanged a worried look and dropped everything. Both women's hearts began to pound wildly in their chests as they quickly left the room and followed their friend. As they entered the room, they both stopped in the middle of it.

The television flickered as the newscaster solemnly announced the terrible truth. "A serious incident has occurred at Seattle University. Armed attackers have entered the building and taken hostages. Police are on scene, but the situation is extremely critical."

Maya and Carina stared at the screen in shock as the reporter reported on the dramatic scenes, hitting them like a blow. Images of students running out filled the room. An icy shiver ran through the two of them when the name of the affected university was mentioned several times. A feeling of helplessness fell like a leaden veil over their hearts. The words invaded their thoughts, and the images of their beloved daughter studying at this institution seemed like a fragile glass threatened by an impending storm. "Y/n.. she has classes today. She's there."

Carina felt her knees weakening and tears forming in her eyes. The blonde reflexively clung to the back of the sofa. The world of the two, which had just seemed so familiar and safe, was thrown out of control. The maternal instincts awoke with frightening intensity when they thought of the dact that you were currently in a dangerous situation. "Oh mio Dio, no," the brunette whispered, her voice shaky. Maya, usually a rock in the surf, felt tears burning in her eyes too. Fear for her daughter engulfed them both like a blazing fire.

"We have to go to the university immediately," Maya spoke, interrupted by the muffled sound of the news in the background. Carina nodded, the determination in her eyes reflecting the inner strength that mothers could mobilize in times of crisis.

The fear, worry and hope blurred together as they set off together, seeking reassurance that they would do everything in their power to get you out of there.

[justourimaginations]

Come For You (Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader)

gonna split this into two parts, first one just fluff and some angst and second one smut. Both can be read independently from one another.

Note: not a native speaker so I apologise for mistakes. Would love feedback :)

PART 1

Summary: You called Colter to help find your stalker but end up getting kidnapped by him and needing to be saved by Colter. At the end of the night you end up in his trailer.

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, blood, wounds, knife, gun, slight swearing, stalking

2,4k words (not proof read)

---------------------------

You and Colter have known each other for a few months now. You met when he was doing a job in a small town, which you had visited to do some research for a book. You were an author and a sucker for a good story and mystery. He was asking questions at a coffee shop you were writing at, and you got curious about the case he was working. You worked the case with him since you were good at putting things together and had the advantages of a woman to get information from dumb men. After the job was done you hooked up and went your separate ways. However, every now and then you crossed paths in different towns, where he was working some job, and you were giving readings. Part of that was also that you met Reenie and you two became good friends, staying in contact, texting, and talking on the phone.

Colter was focused on the road ahead of him, he wanted to get most of the distance done for the night so he could start working the case the next day. A missing teenage boy in his father’s Ferrari, with a payout of $60000. He rubbed his eyes. His phone ringing came in at the right moment, lifting his spirits a little when he saw your name on the screen. He swiped to answer.

“Y/N, what can I help you with?” he asked with a smirk. Maybe Reenie told you where he was headed. He wouldn’t be complaining if he got to see you.

“Hey Colter, I’m sorry, I know it’s late” your voice came from the other end of the line. You were pacing in your apartment, wearing your pyjama.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m still on the road so, what’s up?” he reassured you.

“I need your help” you replied. Colter set the indicator and pulled the car with the silver airstream over. You sounded serious and if you needed his help, he wouldn’t lose a moment by driving in the wrong direction.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” he said.

“I’m home right now, but I’m thinking about going to a hotel” you replied. “I have a stalker, and I need you to find him, so I can get him arrested” you explained further running a hand through your hair. Colter put in your home address into the cars navigation system and pulled the car around.

“Look, I’ll pay you, okay?” you continued unaware that he was already heading your way.

“Y/N it’s fine, I’m on my way, I’ll be there in about six hours” he said glancing at the time indicated by the navigation system. This wasn’t what he was expecting the call to be about, but even though he didn’t like to admit it, he was happy to hear your voice and see you again. A sigh of relief left your lips. The police had been utterly unhelpful with this. Colter was your last hope.

This was three days ago. Colter had arrived early the next morning and had come straight to your apartment. He had looked exhausted, just like you. Both of you had not slept. You told him about your stalker. How it started out with DM’s you hadn’t even noticed at first. Then little notes left in the bookstores you were doing readings at but then they were left at your car and finally at your apartment. They seemed harmless at first, but they had become more frequent and with notes saying he would come by and show you what you were missing if you continued to ignore him. Finally, a dead rat was left on your doorstep. The heart was cut out. But the police couldn’t figure out who it was and only told you to leave town.

With Bobby’s help Colter put a name to your stalker in a day, Thomas Smith, very original. They couldn’t find him right away though. And now you were tied to a chair in some basement. Your phone had been left by the side of the road somewhere. Your stalker had hit you on the head with something and then drugged you. You had trouble keeping your eyes open. He was mumbling to himself. You saw a knife reflecting the dim light in the room. Panic rose in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

“If I can’t have you, no one can” he hissed looking at you. He then walked over swiftly and pressed the knife to your chest, which was heaving up and down in panic. You could feel the cold metal on your skin.

“And if I can’t win your heart, I’ll just take it” he spat. Tears rose in your eyes. You were too weak to move or fight against the restraints. Blood drew from the spot he was pressing the knife into, and he cut a long wound right above your boob. A short scream escaped your lips before he pressed his hand on your mouth. He slapped your cheek. It was long enough though to tell Colter, who was clearing the house above you, where you were. The door burst from his hinges. In relief you closed your eye.

“You better step the f*ck away from her” Colters voice was husky. He seemed even broader than usual and his gaze was full of anger.

“Or what?” your perpetrator asked, standing in front of you, shielding you from Colters view.

“Or you’re gonna regret it” Colters jaw was clenched. Your breathing was still heavy, the blood from the cut was soaking your shirt. Colter put his gun away. He was ready to hurt this guy with his hands, making him regret ever putting hands on you. You didn’t know what happened but suddenly Colter was by your side. The creep on the ground.

“Are you okay?” his voice and gaze had softened. You nodded weakly.

“Let’s look at this” he said, taking a look at the wound on your chest. “You’re gonna need stitches.”

“Watch out” you said, your voice betraying you by not being able to warn him louder. But Colter quickly turned around and a loud bang followed by a thump had your stalked on the floor, bleeding from a hole in his chest. Colter’s breath was heavy.

“Police and ambulance are on the way” Colter breathed out and loosened your restraints, taking you in his arms. You could smell his scent before passing out.

After waking up in a hospital bed and staying for a few hours for observation, Reenie who had been worried sick, was taking you home.

“Did Colter already leave town?” you asked her.

“No, he wanted to be there when you woke up, but he had to give his statement to the police” Reenie explained. “I’m sure he’ll meet us at your apartment.” You nodded. You hoped so.

“Y/N, he was worried sick when we couldn’t locate you.”

“He was?”

“I’ve never seen him like this. He carried you out of that house and didn’t leave your side until this morning.” she continued. You rubbed your temples. You still had a headache.

“He’d do that for every one of us” you said, trying to play it down.

“No, Y/N, not like this! Yes, he would be worried, but he was… this was different. He was terrified something would happen to you.”

You bit your lip thinking. How was this different? Yes, he had come when you called and saved your life, but he would have done the same for Reenie, Bobby, Teddi, Velma and maybe even Billie. Yes, you had hooked up a few times and sometimes you wished he would stay longer, but you would never ask him to. You both were living on the road. You preferred writing all over the place, you found it inspiring. You found him inspiring.

“I don’t know Reenie” you sighed as she pulled up into the parking spot in front of your apartment building. Colter’s car was parked in the parking lot, and he was leaning on the hood, walking towards you as he saw you pull in. You couldn’t help but smile at his handsome face. He seemed relieved to see you smile. He had a cut on his lip. Your stalker must have gotten a punch in. You got out of the car and Reenie went to get your bag out of the trunk.

“Hey” you said with a crooked smile. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“Hey” he mumbled into your hair then letting you go, his hand remaining on the small of your back.

“I’m really sorry, darling but I have to get to the office” Reenie said giving you a hug and dumping your bag on Colter. “I trust you will bring her up safely” she added looking at Colter with a raised brow.

“Will do Reenie, see you” he smirked. You thanked Reenie and she drove off. Colter followed you up to your apartment and put your bag inside once you had unlocked the door for him. He stood in your living room awkwardly, his hands in his pockets.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Colter nodded, not looking into your eyes.

“Thank you” you said, offering him a warm smile, “for saving my life, you know.”

“Anytime” he replied, meeting your gaze. You could look into his eyes for hours.

“I’m glad you’re okay” he added and walked towards the door.

“You’re leaving already?” you asked, your heart aching a little.

“Yeah, that case I was on my way to when you called, they still haven’t found the boy” he explained. You nodded.

“Good luck then.” Once again you knew it would make no sense to ask him to stay. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. He wanted to stay longer. He wanted to make sure you were okay. He wished he could ask you to come with him.

“Get some rest, okay?” he said instead and gave you a last hug. He wished he could hold on a little longer but that might have made him change his mind about leaving already.

“I’ll see you when I see you” he added with a smile and let go, walking down the stairs and disappearing. You sighed and closed the door. You went to the bathroom and turned the shower on. You undressed, inspecting the wound that pervert had caused. You winced a little at your reflection. You looked like a mess, not exactly how you wanted Colter to see you.

“Do you think Colter already left?” you asked Reenie on the phone. An hour had gone by since he had left your apartment. You had dozed off for half an hour after showering but couldn’t stop thinking about Colter. Like Reenie said it was different with you.

“Probably not, why?” she asked.

“I need to see him” you said, rummaging through the hospital bag.

“For what?” Reenie asked and you could hear the flirt in her voice.

“Why is a man’s hoodie jacket in my bag?” you inquired, confused at the piece of clothing you had found.

“Oh, it’s Colters, he put in on you in the basement, since apparently you were only wearing a bra” Reenie explained.

“Oh, for god’s sake” you sighed in embarrassment.

“It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before” Reenie chuckled.

“Context Reenie, it matters” you groaned in annoyance. You couldn’t help but notice that the jacket smelled of Colter and breathed in his scent.

Colter had just come out of the shower; the hot steam filled the trailer. He put on a pair of sweatpants. He would pack up and then leave. On his way over to his trailer, Velma had called, telling him the job he wanted to get to was done. Police had found both, the teenager and the Ferrari. However, they were looking for another job for him. He hated leaving you like this. He hated to admit that he felt a jab every time he left you behind and it pulled at his heart not to see you or hear your voice in weeks. Because it wasn’t the same with other women. He tracked your book tour appointments just to see if you were close by, but it was over now, so there was no chance of running into you at random cities.

Colter squinted as headlights lit up the trailer. “What the f*ck?” he mumbled, confused as to who was driving up to his camp site. He grabbed his gun. The car outside came to a halt and the lights turned off. He opened the door, trying to see a face in the dark.

“Put that down” he heard your voice and your footsteps coming closer. He smirked slightly.

“I thought I told you to rest” he replied, stepping back in the trailer to let you in. You took the few steps inside but hesitated for a moment when you saw he was shirtless and just had a towel hanging over his shoulder, which he was now using to ruffle his hair dry. As soon as you stepped in your body was overcome with warmth and the same scent his hoodie smelled of.

“I’ve never been very good at resting” you smirked. You noticed a stitched up cut on the side of his stomach. Your perpetrator must have not only gotten a punch in.

“You got stitches?” you asked, you hated that he got hurt while saving your ass.

“Was just a scratch” he replied looking down at it. “It was my fault really, I was distracted, should have taken him out the first chance I had.” Colter saw that you were still looking worried. He also noticed that you were wearing his jacket he had left you with and even though he didn’t want to, it made his heart beat a bit faster. He liked the thought of you wearing his clothes. He cleared his throat, distracting himself from his thoughts about you and making you look up into his face.

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked, looking at you gently and grabbed a shirt from the bed. You followed his movements with your eyes.

“You’re not gonna need that” you said firmly and finally closed the distance between you, pressing your lips on his, taking the shirt out of his hand in the same movement and buried your other hand in his hair. Colter might have been surprised at first but then immediately kissed you back. His hand pulled you closer by your waist. He breathed in your familiar scent, and it instantly made all his worries disappear. There was only you in this moment.

To be continued in PART 2

[wbblover4lyfe]

Authors note: I posted a poll and wow you guys did not disappoint. So here is a Katie Ledecky fanfic! Second time writing so pls be nice 🙇🏻‍♀️. If you guys have any suggestions of what I should write next pls feel free to share!! Hope you enjoy 😉

Pairing: College Katie ledecky x college y/n

Warning: HEAVY SITUATIONSHIP but Katie and y/n are too afraid to say anything and fluff

Summary: After a tough day filled with classes and swim practice Katie comes back to her dorm needing attention from y/n.

When you found out a number one recruit for swimming was going to be your freshman dorm-mate you were VERY intimidated. You looked up your roommate and found out she was in the Olympics at 15 years old. You felt scared you guys weren’t going to click or barely see each other. Little did you know you guys would become really good friends?

You were the one thing that wasn’t swim-related to Katie in her life. You were her anchor so when Katie came back frustrated from a meet or practice you comforted her. For example, one night when she came back from a 16 hour day including hard classes and an even harder practice.

Your dim desk light shined on your textbook as your hands were gripping your hair in frustration. Your big biology lab was tomorrow and you were trying to squeeze in as much information as possible. As you erased your answer in the practice sheet for the hundredth time you heard keys jiggle into the door of your dorm.

Katie enters your shared dorm, sneaking in thinking you are asleep until she spots you at your desk. You laugh at her attempt to be quiet without looking up.

“You’re still up?” The blonde says very exhausted.

“Yes, I have a lab tomorrow,” you say, finally looking back at your roommate, noticing her puffy eyes.

Before she could turn away you quickly got up and walked over to her.

“Are you okay?” you ask, reaching up to her face.

The warmth of your touch seemed to trigger a stream of tears to flood down her face. She quickly grabs you into a hug tucking her head into your shoulder as if she was hiding.

“Hey, it’s okay… I’m here” you say, holding her as close to you as possible.

She melts into your touch, finally relaxing after such a hard day. You feel so bad at her small whimpers into her shoulder. You wish you could just take her away from all the stress and pressure she endures from not only her family but also her coaches.

She finally comes to the realization you said the reason you were up was because you had a lab tomorrow. This thought makes her pull away from the hug.

“I’m sorry for always bothering you, you can go back to studying, please don't mind me,” she says, avoiding your eye contact and trying to walk past you. You quickly grab her arm making her face you.

“Katie stop, you’re my main priority right now. Plus I’m finished studying anyways” you say even though that was a lie you felt it was your responsibility to help Katie or else she was just going to bottle it in. Before she can say anything else you bring her into another hug. Katie again melts into the hug, leaning all of her weight on you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you say, rubbing circles on her back.

“No, I just want to cuddle and sleep,” she says in a whisper.

Without you saying anything you walk over to her closet pull out some pajamas for her and hand them to her. As she changes into them you put away your books and start brushing your teeth. She finishes getting dressed, you then look over at her wearing one of your t-shirts. You laugh realizing you guys share clothes so often your shirt was in her closet.

“Let me help you take off your makeup,” you say signaling for her to sit on the bathroom counter.

You carefully stand in between her legs and wipe off the waterproof mascara she had on. She looks at you with a sleepy expression making you smile.

“Do you need help brushing your teeth too?” you say with a laugh. She gives you a shy smile “I mean if you’re offering” Katie says shrugging her shoulders.

As you brush her teeth you can’t help but smile at how pretty she looks under this soft light. You think it’s so funny how only YOU see this soft side of Katie. She usually has this competitive look and attitude.

As you wipe her mouth you gently kiss her forehead and help her get off the counter. You lead her to your bed. She goes in first and then holds the comforter for you to get in. You plug in both of your guys phones and turn on the ceiling fan. Turning off the lamp on your night side table as you crawl into the tiny bed.

Instantly softening into her arms as she wraps her legs around you. Even though Katie is 6’0 and you’re pretty tall as well you guys didn’t mind sharing a tiny bed at all. Both of you preferred to sleep together than on your separate beds.

“I’m so proud of you, and I’m not just talking about swimming,” you say in her ear.

“I’m so glad you’re my friend y/n, I think I would’ve gone crazy if I didn’t have you to come back to every day,” Katie says into your neck.

You can’t help but think that this isn’t normal friend behavior, but you would rather have her like this than not have her at all. With Katie’s busy schedule you can’t imagine she even has time to think about being in a relationship… or so you thought.

To be continued…

[wil-dearest]

Anonymous asked: ok 🫣🫣 reader reading a * spicy * book and wilbur seeing them…. hehe

Mhm mhm, i see your point. Enjoy

trigger warning: the book you are reading has explicit smut in it and well its a little filthy at the end. but 18+.

brought to you by wil-dearest, may i present absolute horseshit

Kiss the Cook

In your defense, the book had been gifted to you by an older cousin who gave you a sly wink, telling you to enjoy. Your love for reading wasn't private information and had this been any other occasion and not your birthday, you most likely would've never read it. (Somehow, your relatives never get what you like. So they sit on a bookshelf as they collect dust and you sit on the idea of donating them.) And also because your cousin texted you saying the main lead was your type. And so if he was?

Here we are, three months after your birthday and you're sitting on at the dining table, reading. Your boyfriend, Wilbur, had been sweet enough that he wanted to make dinner by himself. And with the free time that's been so generously given, you give the book a shot.

Big mistake, after the first two chapters, it gets steamy.

Her head tipped back, with Jeremy's mouth teasing her skin, every touch and every bite he leaves spins her vision. "You understand now, what you do to me is torture." Even his voice, vibrating against the column of her throat, her mouth parts with a gasp. She does understand now.

She can't focus clearly but with the way his hands burn as they grip her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and his cock bumping against her entrance, it's as if her nerves had been lit on fire. The first push drives her nails into his skin and he smooths her hair down, hardly biting his moans back. "Ever since I met you," he gasps, interrupting himself as his hips twitch, "I couldn't get you out of my head. You consumed my being, every waking second." Maybe it'd been the wine, maybe it'd been the careless flirting because why would it ever be more than flirting remarks, it doesn't matter. All Nikki knows right now is how good it feels with him inside her.

You had to put the book down for a moment and cover your face, giggling a little bit to yourself. What the fuck had that been? You peek through fingers and eye the book, biting down on a bottom lip. You'll continue, you decided. Picking up the book, though, Wilbur came out to greet you, his hair a little run-through, like he was pulling the edges again. "How's the book?" He asks, smiling as he leaned in for a quick kiss. Your eyes closed as you hummed, not at all hiding your blush and your smile.

"It's not what I thought it was going to be." You answer, not at all wanting to admit that you just found out the book you're reading leans more into the erotic genre.

"Different?" He asks, his hand coming up and cupping the back of your head as he kissed your cheek. You nod. "And not a bad different?" He kisses your other cheek, drinking up your soft laughter. "Good, then you know where to find me," he pulls back, smiling at you. His thumb comes up to graze your cheek, where he kissed it. He kisses you one last time before heading back inside the kitchen.

You sigh dreamily, wondering how you ever managed to charm him with your tendencies to be a hermit. It cannot be helped, you'll just have to accept you've accidentally cursed him or something. Moving on from real life romance, you turn your eyes back down to the inconspicuous novel. It couldn't hurt to read a little more.

About thirty minutes later, Wilbur decides he's taken long enough and serves two bowls, taking the steaming meals and finding you so engrossed into the novel, you hadn't even noticed him. Now he's not one to be jealous of a book, but just how good can it be when it wasn't your taste? (Yes, he'd been privy to that lovely rant with relatives and their gifting habits.)

He comes around and he had to double-check his eyes were working before he came to terms with the truth. You've been reading erotica.

He starts to mumble the words, "Nikki sobs as she tries to clenches her thighs," you gasp, your head looks over your shoulder, unable to move too much to avoid hitting his head, "overwhelmed by the constant pleasure. His tongue was simply too much, circling her clit and sucking on it before moving the two fingers inside of her again-" you drop the book, covering his mouth even as he tries to read it still, and you had little doubt you look flustered beyond all reason.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek, turning in your seat as you hid your face in his neck, trying to strangle and simultaneously hug him. His laughter is a deep vibration that tickles you while you held onto him, your own nerves lit on fire as his arms circle around your waist.

"Well I came to tell you dinner was ready," he nods to the steaming bowls and then his teasing eyes turned back to you and you dive your head back into his collarbones, "but you didn't even see me. I could see why now."

"Hush." Your voice comes out muffled and you do nothing to make yourself clearer.

"Dinner could always wait and we can recreate the scene in your book." He says pulling away from you and before you can say anything, he's dropped to his knees, his hair falling into his big eyes that stare into you as he nudges his face between your legs. You could hardly breathe with how he gets so close to your crotch, how his smile widens when he kisses your thigh and grips the other one with his- his fingers and you curse yourself for being so sensitive because all you want to do is moan his name. You cover your mouth even when he licks a stripe down the crotch of your jeans. You feel yourself trembling.

"Actually," he says, getting up a dizzying fashion, "I'll make sure to get dessert after dinner." His smile is downright predatory. How are you supposed to eat after all that?

[dandyslibrary]

WELCOME TO DANDY'S LIBRARY !! ; ᡣ𐭩

I STAND WITH PALESTINE!!! Israel lovers DNI n gtfo

I don’t support that one Dandy’s World dev who isn’t even WORTH naming

Welcome !! Call me Librarian, I am the one who manages all of the books in this special Library of mine. What books do I write in particular? I write Angst, Yandere's, and Fluff! the basic's.

I will be only writing for those three. I will not be writing NSFW since, it would be weird. And the canon ages of these characters haven't come out yet. And I will also only write 'x readers'. And YES!! I do Yandere Readers.

to those who are twelve pretending to be a different age I will not be held responsible for how you interact with this blog.

Now my english isn't very good either, and I'm only still learning how to write things in english. But I will still be using grammarly to check if my grammar is correct.

Don't like it? Don't read it. That's all i'm asking from you. I will put trigger warnings right before any kind of fic so you'll know what to look out for.

I do not support Yandere behaviour, or anything of the matter. I write and read Yandere themed stories to help me cope with my problems in real life. I don't romanticize yandere's nor do I even support their behaviour.

GO GO GO GO FOLLOW MY WATTPAD!! Same user as me, same pfp as me <33

Please learn how to seperate fiction and reality.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ ˚☽˚.⋆

RULES FOR REQUESTS !! ; ᡣ𐭩

please read this first before requesting. <3

Now for requesting it's really easy, you can ask for any dandy's world character you want me to write. But you have to make sure you include there the character (obviously), if you want it to be fluff yandere or angst themed (you can choose two at the same time), and the prompt you want it to be.

I don't want you to go into my ask box and ask something like, "hi twisted [insert toon]" and thats it. I don't know what you want me to write for that, please be specific.

You could say something like "Hi I'd like to request for a book. Yandere twisted [insert toon] and [insert prompt]" and it could be something really detailed, or just like something simple.

I especially like the yandere asks/requests.

THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY FIRST COME FIRST SERVE AND IT CONNECTS WITH MY WATTPAD ACC ONESHOTS. PLEASE BE PATIENT FOR YOUR REQUEST IF YOU EVER DID AN ASK /pos

You can even ramble in my ask box and i'll reply to it with a silly thought. Isn't that fun?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ ˚☽˚.⋆

MASTERLIST !! ; ᡣ𐭩

DANDYS WORLD !!

NAP 🌙

LESSONS 🍰🍓

LOVE 🪞

FIXED 🌙

HOT HEADED 🍤

ABOUT YOU🔍

PERFECT🪞

(please inform me if theres anything wrong w the links!)

[everlasting-rainfall]

Kizaru/Aokiji in the Pages AU?

Kizaru/Aokiji? I���m gonna take that to mean that you want either one of them or both of them but I’m gonna do something a little bit unexpected here and by expected, it’s probably completely expected

I’m gonna write you both of them at once! So let’s get into it, shall we? I hope that you enjoy this!! 💟

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Stalking, Forced Relationship, Implied Murder, Manipulation (?), Implied Kidnapping, Implied Isolation (?)

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Ok so let’s say that when you were writing your first book, things went over well but people complained about the accuracy of the Marine partner like you just wrote what you assumed a Marine was like versus what they actually were

So for your next one, you decided to get out there and do some studying like let’s say that you got all suited up then went out and let’s say you also live on an island with a pretty big marine base so there’s a lot of them around

You’re going around from person to person and asking questions about what being a Marine is like, you might even catch some kind of training exercise as well like I’m honestly just imagining that these marine soldiers are doing training then you’re in the background quickly scribbling things down in a notebook

It takes some time and you probably feel a bit awkward as you might feel like you came on too strong for some of them with your questions but as you’re leaving the area around the Marine base with your findings in hand

You might suddenly hear from behind you, “Ooooh, aren’t you going to ask me some questions too?” and lord knows that was terrifying but not as terrifying as when you turned around only to see a Marine Admiral right behind you

It’s Admiral Kizaru who’s right behind you and this man is leaning over you, let’s say that he was on his way somewhere when his ship had to stop briefly at this island just in time for him to see you, he’s curious and you have his attention

He’s definitely terrifying so you might try to back away and claim that you have all the information that you need for your story but Kizaru insists on you asking him some questions too, it doesn’t seem like he’ll take no for an answer

So even if you do just try to leave, this man definitely is putting a hand on your shoulder and telling you no need to be shy as he leads you away to have a conversation about Marines

You without a doubt get some more information on Marines thanks to Kizaru but he also has quite a bit of information on you as he asked you quite a few questions as well but they weren’t questions like What Are You Doing Here? or anything

Like they were questions that you’d probably ask someone you were dating like it seemed like he romantically wanted to get to know you, you tried to dodge some of the questions but he wouldn’t let you as he almost seemed to want to know everything about you

It eventually ended with him asking if you would be free later, you told him no even though you would be and you took off feeling pretty weirded out by the whole interaction in all honesty but just glad that it was over

Wouldn’t you know it though, dear? On the way home, you run into someone else who is just as tall as Kizaru although you didn’t so much run into him so much as you tripped over him and landed flat on your face

You had taken a shortcut to get home and it seemed like you may have tripped over some kind of homeless person until you got a better look at him and it turned out that this was another Marine Admiral, Aokiji

Two Marine Admirals in one day, you’re pretty lucky! But you probably don’t see it that way as you start apologizing for tripping over him and offer to call a medic for him as injured is the only explanation you can come to for why he would sleeping in a place like this

He’s completely fine though and just looks tired as he sits up, he probably rubs the spot where you tripped over him and grumbles about being kicked while he was trying to take a nap but soon tells you that he doesn’t need a medic

You at least offer to take him to your home and he takes you up on that offer as now that he gets a better look at you, you’re pretty good looking and he doesn’t mind going with you so he winds up going with you to your home probably telling you that he doesn’t need a medic but he wouldn’t mind if you patched up his bruise

Man probably makes you kiss it in all honesty, if you’re a person with breasts then he’s likely trying to get a look down your shirt as you get up on the tips of your toes to kiss this man on the head where you accidentally kicked him

He might even insist on doing the same thing for you like “Hey, let me kiss your injuries better too as you fell on your face” but you just refuse him starting to feel rather uncomfortable by the Marine Admirals that you had met today but it doesn’t matter as he’ll just lean in and do it quick

You can ask him to leave but I wouldn’t be too surprised if it turned out that he wasn’t going to listen and decided to stick around for a bit as what could you do? Kick him out? I’d like to see you try…

While he’s here, he’d find out that you were an author and ask you what kind of things that you wrote which would lead to him probably trying to give you advice on how to write a Marine which is probably nearly the exact opposite of whatever Kizaru told you

Oh yeah also remember how I said that Kizaru asked if you were gonna be free later? This is when there’s a knock at your door as it’s Kizaru, he somehow found out where you live and wants to take you on a nice date somewhere where he can get to know you better

Aokiji would of course notice this and probably ask you if you’re really in a relationship with him of all people, he could treat you way better than Kizaru could which just irks the Light Admiral.

You can tell Aokiji that you aren’t in a relationship but you’ll be cut off as Kizaru slings his arm around your shoulder in a relaxed fashion like there’s absolutely nothing wrong with what he’s doing and tells Aokiji that if he can treat you better then prove it and come with you and him

Keep in mind that you have absolutely no say in this and this is how you wind up getting dragged off by two Marine Admirals on a date that you don’t even want to go on as they both try to equally get your attention

Neither is going to admit that the other can treat you better so as a result neither is going to back down, it’s like you’re living a real life love triangle that is way more headache inducing than you ever thought that it could be

They’re now a constant presence in your life and they’re not gonna leave you alone anytime soon, I’d also recommend never picking either one over the other as well as you’re likely to get a repeat of Punk Hazard but Ice vs. Light this time

So it’s better to just endure it and continue on even with how possessive they can both be over you like in all honesty, you’re pretty sure that Kizaru killed that guy who complimented you on your outfit and you’re also pretty sure that Aokiji was responsible for the fact that you wound up stuck in your house with him due to your doors and windows freezing during a blizzard

You’re kinda sorta in a relationship with both of them like it’s not really official that you’re dating them but Kizaru did steal you away on a romantic date where everyone assumed you were a couple and Aokiji was mistaken to be your partner multiple times when he accompanied you to meetings with your publisher

This is honestly just kind of your life now and it isn’t too bad as you aren’t locked away with them forever like you still have the ability to leave your home and walk alone like for five minutes at most before one of them appears to accompany you

It really isn’t the worst thing in the world to be living like this but it is headache inducing when they won’t give you space but hey! It could always be much worse!

I mean imagine if the day comes that they decide to share you… That will be the day that you never see the sun again…

[oc-aita]

Welcome to oc-aita!

This blog functions exactly like @am-i-the-asshole-official, except it's for the blorbos from your head only. You pick a scenario that happened in your story, and write it in the point of view of your OC of choice (which doesn't specifically means how other OCs view the situation, or what really happened). Then, they will be judged whether or not they're the asshole here.

The questions will come with a poll, and it follows the same categories as these. For easy access (although they are explained a bit more on the link), they are:

YTA = You're the asshole NTA = Not the asshole JAH = Justified asshole NAH = No assholes here ESH = Everyone sucks here INFO = Not enough information to judge.

Please, provide at least a bit of context! Specially if there's magic or other things that aren't from the real world, but also just. The context needed to understand the situation (or what your OC considers important/relevant).

I also accept fan characters, but I don't know every piece of media, so please clarify (in another ask) if they're from a specific media.

NSFW (tagged as "NSFT") is allowed, but don't get too explicit, if possible. I am an adult, so don't worry for me.

This blog runs on a queue! For now, the waiting time can be up to a week I think, but that's more of a guesstimate rather than a hard truth. You can also find your AITA posted the next day you send it, it really depends.

I will be tagging potential triggers as "[thing] tw", and mentions of these as "[thing] ment". If possible and needed, please put trigger warnings on your own at the beginning on your ask! Sometimes I can miss stuff.

I don't accept Alternative Universes AITAs only involving canon characters from media. If your AITA is about a fan character and it involves a canon character from that media (example, if your FC is asking whether they're the asshole in a situation involving a canon character), that's fine, but this only focuses on characters you yourself created (unless you are the creator from that book/comic/series/etc, I'm not going to stop you in that case:p). Sorry about that!

With this, we're nearly done. A few things, though: Unless they're tagged as "my own", the OCs and situations are not mine. So, don't send anything about them directed towards me. I will not post hate or anything negative directed towards the owner themself, and avoid telling bad things to the owner on the notes for what their character did. And please, don't take this too seriously, this is just a silly little blog for silly fictional characters! I will add the corresponding trigger warnings if needed, but these characters don't exist, and real people matter more than fictional characters.

Done? Then get ready for your little guy to be judged!

[furiousgoldfish]

I finished reading "Becoming Yourself: Overcoming Mind Control and Ritual Abuse" by Alison Miller, and it was filled with incredibly useful information for those who struggle with a dissociative identity disorder. It was also filled with descriptions of some of the most extreme and atrocious kinds of abuse, so to anyone wanting to read it, there's a trigger warning for cult abuse, rituals, childhood sexual abuse, satanic rituals, child trafficking, child murder, brainwashing, mind control, and every form of religion used against the mind of a child.

I was reading this book to figure out if I had gone thru any kind of abuse of the sort, and I didn't, one of my abusers was utilizing religion against me and had done enough of brainwashing to construct several brainwashed and controlled parts, who were still under the influence, but that was it. The book is extremely clear and it will not confuse you about what happened to you, it tells you the intention behind every type of abuse, and often, how to resolve the results. The books also notes that the word 'alter' is triggering to those who went thru ritual abuse and developed a dissociative identity disorder, for similarity with the word 'altar', which is used in rituals, so they prefer to use the terms 'insiders' and 'parts', which I found to enjoy as well.

One of the repeating points in the first half of the book was on insiders who pretend to be something else, for instance, insiders who pretend to be your abusers, pretend to be demons, pretend to be gods or powerful entities, who believe it's their job to hurt you, or to control you, who are made to bring out consequences if you attempt to act against your abusers. I had something like that in my head, but I had refused to believed it was an insider, because it looked just like a case of 'internalized abusive voice', and I had fought against it viciously and focused on shutting that voice down and keeping it scared, often via imagined torture if it was making me feel anxious. Reading about these other scary entities, who would, when asked, admit to just being an insider pretending, I became curious enough to engage with the abusive voice and ask it, 'are you just an alter pretending'? The voice laughed at me and admitted to being found out, and then promptly stopped pretending and showed themselves as a child part. It took me several weeks to admit to myself that this was real, because it was mortifying. I had fallen for the trick, and even tortured a child part for doing their assigned job – this part now believed their only function was to be tortured. I feel responsible for that. But there was no way for me to know. Insiders are good at keeping up a pretense.

You can sometimes recognize that an entity in your head that is scaring you, claiming to be able to control you or triggering you on purpose, or pretending to be evil, demonic, terrifying, animalistic, powerful, magical, godly, is actually a child part, just because they often act the version of that thing that a child would believe is real. If your entity is often repeating the same lines, only knows 1 way of behaviour and has predictive responses, believes to be your abuser or something similar to it, doesn't follow any real-life logic and seems to belong to another world that a child would think is accurate, then it's likely a child part, for some reason programmed or brainwashed to believe they're what they're pretending to be. I should note that when children think of these scary entities, they're often very creative, and put their whole heart in it, so it's going to be an entity that is engaging, feels powerful, doesn't back down easily. Parts who pretend to be evil or demonic will sometimes cling to what they think they are very dearly and will not allow themselves to think of themselves as humans or children, this is for their own emotional protection. All they had in their childhood was being tough. They cannot let that go.

Another incredibly useful information I got from the book was on how to process trauma if you are a multiple. I had never seen instructions on how to do this before, and I'm going to share them in another post that should be posted right after this one, and I'll put a link to it here.

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter au: im taking a creative liberty and dubbing this genre hxhero. laugh. please.

HAHAHAHAA

masterpost time.

hunter x hunter but put them in the mha/bnha universe

i only have the troupe because my brainrot is absolutely insane rn. i have the beginnings of a plot but i am sitting here like: THROW ALL OF 1A AND THE BNHA-IFIED HXH PROTAGONISTS AT THESE MOTHERFUCKERS. YOU COULD N O T.

i accidentally made them broken i apologize for nothing

warning long ass post ahead. i am tempted to put a 'keep reading' thing to make it more digestible but like. im insane.

suggestions are welcome just know i am so ill about this. i can and will explode.

[edit: i looked at how long this post is and im now putting a pagebreak. this is so damn long]

LORE: The Phantom Troupe are a criminal organization responsible with global terror, specifically high scale theft, assassination, political disruption, murder, etc. Wanted in every country and the highest value bounty for any hero that is able to take even one of them down.

They have claimed to be responsible for nearly every modern conflict but completely disappear once the smoke clears. They have exposed unlawful use of WMDs, abuses of destructive quirks and other 'lawful' organizations for what they are but they have never stated what their intentions were with these acts of violence.

Chrollo: Travelling Ink. A compound quirk built up of a generation of villains. A combination of moving ink and a quirk theft ability. Can steal quirks by compressing them into ink spelling the name of the quirk (therefore has to know or guess the name of the quirk) and then has to make skin to skin contact to steal it. It is stored on his body as a tattoo but can be transferred anywhere he chooses. However, storing powerful or destructive quirks takes a toll on his body so he began to store them in a book. Since it’s ink it can be transferred on anything that can hold it. The catch is that the quirk gets weaker the more times it’s moved outside of its original owner. He calls this loss of quality, "Generation Loss." All quirks when applied to living things are automatically activated; if the quirk is a manual trigger type then the user can choose to deactivate it, but otherwise it will default to being on. Can kill the people he steals from but usually prefers not to. Tattoos cannot overlap and the print will appear proportionate to the quirk's inherent strength. Therefore, his capacity isn't unlimited.

The cross on his forehead is a perpetual healing quirk that he triggers when he needs. Holds his book in a compartment quirk he constantly has active on his right bicep in the shape of a spider tattoo.

Quick Mend & Invisible Shelf respectively.

Also has: Order Stamp, Indoor Fish, Fun Fun Cloth, Lovely Ghostwriter, Teleportation, Sun and Moon, Convert Hands, Red Gain (weaker form of Scarlet Invocation)

yes he is fucking broken. but his personality prevents him from being afo. therefore. he is better.

Nobunaga - Swift Slash. If he is holding a blade his base stats increase dramatically. The blade can be sheathed or exposed, if he is armed he becomes stronger, faster, and arguably smarter. Chose a long katana as his weapon of choice and carries it around anywhere he goes Rin Okumura style. He isn’t any less squishy in terms of the human body but he simply transcends the human limits in terms of physical feats. 

Sphere of Eyes: A gifted quirk from Chrollo. Inked into his left bicep. Generates spheres that are basically a collection of his senses. A method of remote perception that instantly absorbs information and instantly transmits to his brain. In Nobunaga’s hands it allows him precise control over his own movements in a perfect 4m sphere which happens to be the maximum reach of his sword. It can go larger and he can also gather the sphere in a single place and leave it there. He can only have one sphere at a time, the original owner had several.

subject to change but honestly i think this works for him.

Feitan - Retribution. A brutally effective destructive type quirk that is nearly impossible to control. Enhanced by rage, if he was harmed in any way, he will summon a natural disaster of destructive category directly on top of him. He will be completely unaffected. To make it fair, I will say he comes from an elemental family and he only inherited one of his mother’s four elements while his other four siblings got the others. His element is fire and he can technically use this quirk at any time but without the compound emotions of pure anger the flames are relatively weak. Think Gabimaru but like. With bigger fire. 

Windstep: A gift from Chrollo, inked on his right ankle. Gains the swiftness of wind. When gifted it wasn’t nearly as strong as it was with the original owner but with tireless quirk training he worked it past its previous owner’s limits.

also subject to change. im less satisfied with these two but im workin on it-

Machi - Live Wire. Can summon thin wires of pure energy to any point on her body or extension of her body. Razor thin and when applied with correct force can cut through virtually anything. Each wire is primed with energy that depends on her willed output and can be controlled at will. High emotions can affect the energy in the wire or her intentions towards the person she’s using them on. Energy manifests as heat in anger and electricity when intending to do harm.

Tensile Strength: A gift from Chrollo that sits in a tattoo on her left calf. A support type quirk meant to strengthen textiles and other string-related abilities. Used in conjunction with her already powerful quirk, she can simply make the wire nearly unbreakable in short lengths.

Kalluto - Dancing Dolls. Manipulation type ability that revolves around origami dolls. Carries around sheets of paper in his obi and can fold them up into various different shapes. Manipulates the paper itself so even if the doll is cut the paper continues to live under their command and can even be commanded to recombine (not literally but as in the homing missile kind). The dolls and the paper making them are an extension of their body in terms of sight and sound. If eyes are folded into the paper doll initially, Kalluto will be able to see through its eyes as long as the eyes remain eyes. 

No gift from Chrollo yet because he still has yet to prove his worth and must still train to have his body maintain two quirks instead of the one. 

Phinks - Soul Strike. A brutal application of his strength to any part of his body he chooses. Usually chooses punches but it can be diffused over his entire body to increase speed or stamina but can only choose one at a time. Just a super punch, idk what you want from me. Its base strength is proportional to desire, aka how much he wants to bash his opponent’s face in. 

Looping Infinity. Gift from Chrollo, inked on his chest under his ribs. By repeating an action, the user gains strength in the following repeated actions. Can stack to infinity but the action must be uniform in relation to the user. Only applicable to external limbs. If a different action is taken between loops the cycle restarts. This includes breathing. 

Shalnark - Black Voice. Once he initiates a touch and the target hears something he says simultaneously, they are under his control. Can only control two at a time, but he usually only sticks to one. Can control himself, but he has to make sure to make the thing he says is feasible otherwise he will never be free of that command. Commands can be as long as he wants and only ends when he consciously decides to release them. Victims have no memory of being controlled. 

Second Body: A defense quirk gifted by Chrollo on his left leg. Creates a see through energy field in the vague shape of an animal of his choosing that grants him immeasurable strength, speed and power. Only able to be activated in reaction to a threat. The previous owner was so faint of heart that he would usually pass out and the beast would rampage until all threats were cleared. 

he also has little devil horns that vibrate when issuing commands uwu. its cute.

Franklin - Hand Guns. Can shoot bullets out of his fingertips. Shoots rounds of energy bullets that hit with the same force as machine guns. Shoots up to 100 rounds from each finger before he has to ‘reload’ can be pushed if he is desperate. 

Projectile Piercing: Gift from Chrollo tattooed on his right arm. Enhances any projectile the user throws to guarantee pierce a certain number of barriers on top of the normal damage the projectile would do.

very simple but effective u-u

Shizuku - Vacuum Wrist. She has a shapeshifting arm that turns into the muzzle of a vacuum, hose and all. It’s a very silly quirk but it has a powerful range of effects. Can suck up anything she can name, including things like heat. Her max capacity is directly proportional to how hungry she’s feeling when using it in a roughly 50:1 kg ratio. Takes some time to warm up in terms of suction power and at max speeds can rip a full grown tree off its roots. idk how much force that is but. its a lot.

Pocket Dimension: a quirk gifted to her by Chrollo that allows her to store a single item she picks up (in this case sucks up)

Pakunoda - Telepathy. Can hear thoughts of people around her and project her thoughts onto anyone she chooses. Limited by her own range of hearing and therefore has sensitive ears. Can easily be overwhelmed.

Focus: A quirk gifted to her by Chrollo that is kept in a tattoo on her upper back. A supporting type quirk that was originally a sidekick’s quirk used to concentrate a hero’s aoe attack to just a few focused points. Maximum six. Uses it to focus her ability on specific people rather than her entire aoe which is. Literally just anyone within auditory range of her loudest voice.

Bonolenov - Celestial Bodies. Generational quirk. Any whistling or percussive sound he makes creates massive spheres of pure force that go outwards from his feet. Absolutely nothing can stop them except for an equal or opposing force but the force is equal to the gravitational force of a planet of his choosing plus the speed of sound. Can use 9 in rapid succession with varying gravitational forces and a technical maximum radius of however far away someone hears the noise. If he truly lets go, the planets will expand as far as their diameter divided by 10,000. Requires a large degree of control and usually a showstopper move even with the first planet. 

Shapeshifter: A gift from Chrollo used to take the forms of others. Can only take the form of people he’s seen before and has made physical contact with. 

and yes. before i get yelled at. i did consider that in accordance to these rules, bonolenov can essentially flatten a 14km area in an instant. but, i also did consider that he is aware of this and has an incredible amount of control over his quirk.

i swear i thought this through.

Uvogin - Unrending Flesh. His skin and flesh are immune to all types of damage. He is essentially fireproof, bulletproof and acid-proof. This includes damage he does to himself. By pushing his muscles to their absolute limits and beyond, strikes or feats that would tear a muscle are now feasible. He isn’t damaged by his own punches either so his only limit is how much force he can put behind a punch. Has a super high limit but death by a thousand cuts is still very possible.

Mega Strike: A quirk gifted to him by Chrollo that sits imprinted on his back in the form of a spider. It was a minor strength quirk that made the user’s punches explode. By training this quirk to nearly its maximum potential and with zero drawbacks to himself, he can now strike with the power of a small ballistic missile.

Kortopi - Perfect copy. As the name implies, he makes copies of things he touches. It doesn’t cost anything and the copies are permanent unless he touches them again to make them disappear. It only requires the time it takes him to identify a subject as an object. Object cannot exceed a certain size but with training he has expanded that range to crazy volumes. Can now duplicate ten story skyscrapers.

Remote Tracker: A gift from Chrollo that stays printed on his face. Any objects created by the user are then able to be tracked. Originally this was for a craftsman type where the objects created were physical pieces of art or machinery. Used unconsciously to track the location of everything they made. Since Kortopi claims each copy as something he made, he can choose to know the location of any specific object.

for the sake of the plot their personalities are jacked up to 100 to make up for the absolutely broken abilities. any personality traits they had are now comically exaggerated.

does that mean chrollo is even more of a cold and calculated motherfucker? hell yeah.

[tvchi]

TVCHIVERSE: Where Fandoms Collide and Stories Ignite

Hello All. This is the formal landing page of an amalgam of daydreams, fantasies, and imitations brought to you in story/fanfiction form.

Few ground rules.

Please talk back! If you like anything I've written, have a few questions about what may happen next, or even have a few suggestions on what you would like to see, PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG, and COMMENT!!! Your feedback helps me write when I don't feel like it, helps me know what specifically you liked about that particular story, and it helps me get an energy boost.

Please be respectful. I don't walk into your house and open your fridge, go through your mail, or answer your phones. Don't come in here, especially in the comments, bullying, criticizing (not critiquing), or just being mean-spirited overall. I will delete your comments and block you.

Please, don't steal. Not only is stealing ugly, but it's also beneath you. I don't mind people drawing information from my work. However, taking my work and direct concepts of it and passing it off as your own is stealing. That will get you called out and then blocked. With that being said: Do not copy or repost my work. Do not use my work to train AI.

Please be mindful. This is ADULT content ONLY. Minors, new adults, and young adults may be depicted, but this content is for ADULTS ONLY. 18+. Please head the trigger warnings attached to the beginning of each post. Please do not ignore those, it's impolite. We're are very mindful, very demure around here.

Please be patient. While it is an ultimate goal of mine, writing IS NOT my day job. My job is very demanding and high-stakes, and when I'm not doing that, I love to be outside drawing from real-life experiences, reading, or watching TV/Flim. While I am open to requests, please try and respect the turnaround time I have to put these stories out as well as the other ideas I've had. I chose to create this page to showcase my work and push myself to write almost every day. This is supposed to be fun, NOT stressful. I reserve the right to refuse, deny, or allow myself ample time regarding requests. So please... Don't piss me off.

Now that that is out of the way. I definitely want to give some shout outs to people who had encouraged me to write. Again many thanks to @megamindsecretlair , @thecapodomme , and @vivalaorgasm . Love yall. I'm back writing again cuz a writer writes. But I've never felt rushed or pushed by yall. Just nothing but encouragement, good vibes, and great inspo. Also shout out to the entire #TerryRichmondFanfaction #RebelRidgeFanction for waking your girl up. Especially @megamindsecretlair , @hotgrlcece, @sweettea-and-honeybutter !!!

OK....now I don't just write. Like many of you, I have many hobbies some of which include: Reading, Music/Music History, TV/Flim, Photography, and Fashion. So some of my tags are:

#TVCHIVERSE - the universe where all of my fanfictions live. I will also be posting my short prose and poetry here as well.

#TVCHIsTunes - When I write, I usually write to music. My Spotify is riddled with so many playlists and mixes that I should honestly go to DJ school already. Anyway, I'll share tunes that I've been obsessed with here. #TVCHIsRunway - where fashion and fashion history live. Archival posts get reblogged. Occasional showcase some of my own fits and style. #TVCHIsLibrary - Posting and reblogging some great books that I've read. May even do some reviews. Also will be posting some things from my TBR to see whether yall have read it or not and your thoughts about it before I read. (No spoilers, if you can avoid it) #TVCHIsTV - I ultimately want to become a screenwriter yall. For real. I hope to learn from all forms of media, and the easiest for me to start out with is poetry, prose, and novels. However, I do want to be in the writers' rooms. So, with this tag, I'll post my favorite TV shows and films, speak about why I like them, and dissect plot, narratives, and scriptwriting.

#TVCHIsGallery - This tag will be me reblogging or posting art that I think is gorgeous regardless of the subject matter.

#JustTVCHI- Sheer randomness

Alright. Down to the goood shit! As I continue to write, I will be updating this landing page to include all the one-off fics/stories as well as the series that I create. I'm in the process of starting two different series at the same time, resuming another, and writing one-off stories. There's A LOT going on. Be on the look out.

Echoes of Intrigue: Prt 1

Echoes of Intrigue: Prt 2

Veiled Intentions: The Hunt, 1 Veiled Intentions: The Hunt, 2

The Challenge: About Loss The Challenge: About Him The Challenge: About a Challenge

My story is simple...

Anxiety

Fighting Flowers

Perceiving Genuine

Take This Cup

Unititled

Instructions on how to get on the tag list

Thank you all in advance for welcoming me into fandom and holding space for me here. I hope to build community with each and every one of you. Please expect me under your content as well.

[angelicnymph]

Hello, i noticed you have a few popular artworks about characters being members of the mafia or something along those lines.

I would really like if you informed yourself about all the damaste that Mafia has done to people and places before even thinking about posting this kind of content.

It is NOT acceptable that people find Mafia bosses and such people who inflict pain to others to be attractive or even wish they were “kidnapped by a hot Italian mafia boss”.

Mafia bosses were, and still are, horrible people who caused endless pain.

And in the case that someone were to get kidnapped by one of them, they wouldn’t absolutely life a cute love story with them. They would be restlessly raped and thrown around by men, if not simply tortured and killed immediately.

In conclusion, I kindly ask you to please not post or take down the previous posts regarding Mafia, because it’s a horrible thing that everyone in their right mind hates. Good evening

P.S. I’m sorry for eventual grammar mistakes i made, as English isn’t my first language.

P.P.S. With this paragraph i mean absolutely no harm or hate, and i think your posts were made simply because you weren’t aware of how problematic, triggering and disgusting those things were.

Hi. I understand your point of view and concern but I'm writing it only for the fiction.

I assume my readers are also quite mature to differentiate between fiction and real life.

Besides most of my Mafia AU are inspired by well known books e.g EVIL BOYS, L.A RUTHLESS KING/ Vengeance on Wattpad.

I know that my content aren't for everyone and that's completely understandable.

If you are NOT comfortable with it, you can always ignore my posts or even block my account ( I'd completely understand).

I will even pay more mind to always put warnings beforehand on my posts henceforth.

Note: In the GETO SUGURU SERIES, reader isn't kidnapped or forced. They both are consenting adults who fell for each other after a proper meeting.

Suguru was frank to reader about his job and despite that, reader consensually got into a relationship with him.

It is also to be noted that Suguru never involves reader in his work. Apart from Satoru, nobody knows about reader.

-Suguru took this job only to build his finance as he was struggling with money as a child and wanted to have a good future. He does want to get out of that lifestyle and live a normal one in the future which will be revealed later.

Thank you !

[eloquentspeeches]

book recommendation tag game!

rules: recommend as many books as you like. please include genre and some basic information on it (either your words or a copy+paste synopsis). feel free to include cover art, a personal review, trigger warnings, and anything else! just don’t spoil the book!

tagged by @dekarios!!! thank you for the tag I'm usually too busy and or shy to randomly talk about things but here I am. I'm putting it all under a read more because million bajillion words

American Elsewhere by Robert Jackson Bennett

Some places are too good to be true. Under a pink moon, there is a perfect little town not found on any map. In that town, there are quiet streets lined with pretty houses, houses that conceal the strangest things. After a couple years of hard traveling, ex-cop Mona Bright inherits her long-dead mother's home in Wink, New Mexico. And the closer Mona gets to her mother's past, the more she understands that the people of Wink are very, very different ...

this is sincerely my favorite book ever. i bought it from a sci-fi only bookstore that i visited once and that closed down shortly after. it's got horror. it's got sci-fi. it's got eldritch sci-fi horror set in a small town. i re-read this book almost every year and i still find new details i missed.

Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson

For a thousand years the ash fell and no flowers bloomed. For a thousand years the Skaa slaved in misery and lived in fear. For a thousand years the Lord Ruler, the "Sliver of Infinity," reigned with absolute power and ultimate terror, divinely invincible. This saga dares to ask a simple question: What if the hero of prophecy fails? Mistborn: The Final Empire — Kelsier, a brilliant thief has turned his talents to the ultimate caper, with the Lord Ruler as the mark. Kel's plan is the ultimate long shot, until luck brings a ragged girl named Vin into the fold. But she will have to learn to trust if she is to master powers of which she never dreamed.

i can only recommend the first triology of this series - final empire, the well of ascension and the hero of ages - since i haven't read the other books from this world. definitely worth the read, this book changed my brain chemistry when i first read it in high school.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

The youngest, half-goblin son of the Emperor has lived his entire life in exile, distant from the Imperial Court and the deadly intrigue that suffuses it. But when his father and three half brothers in line for the throne are killed in an "accident," he has no choice but to take his place as the only surviving rightful heir. Entirely unschooled in the art of court politics, he has no friends, no advisors, and the sure knowledge that whoever assassinated his father and brothers could make an attempt on his life at any moment. Surrounded by sycophants eager to curry favor with the naïve new emperor, and overwhelmed by the burdens of his new life, he can trust nobody. Amid the swirl of plots to depose him, offers of arranged marriages, and the specter of the unknown conspirators who lurk in the shadows, he must quickly adjust to life as the Goblin Emperor. All the while, he is alone, and trying to find even a single friend . . . and hoping for the possibility of romance, yet also vigilant against the unseen enemies that threaten him, lest he lose his throne–or his life.

if you like complicated political court drama!!! then oh boy this is the book for you!!! my cousin made me read this book because complicated political court dramas are her specialty and she was not wrong. this is a banger.

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

The Emperor needs necromancers. The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman. Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead nonsense. Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth unveils a solar system of swordplay, cut-throat politics, and lesbian necromancers. Her characters leap off the page, as skillfully animated as arcane revenants. The result is a heart-pounding epic science fantasy. Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. She packs up her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and prepares to launch her daring escape. But her childhood nemesis won’t set her free without a service. Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will be become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier. Without Gideon’s sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die. Of course, some things are better left dead.

if you follow my blog at all then you know i'm like a hardcore fan of TLT. i love this book series. it's such a good read. this is one of three with a fourth on the way. please read it. pelase.

bullet train by kōtarō isaka

​Kimura’s young son is in a coma thanks to the Prince, and Kimura has tracked him onto a bullet train heading from Tokyo to Morioka to exact his revenge. But Kimura soon discovers that they are not the only dangerous passengers on board. Satoshi—the Prince—looks like an innocent schoolboy but is really a stylish and devious assassin. Risk fuels him, as does a good philosophical debate, such as questioning: Is killing really wrong? Nanao, nicknamed Ladybug, the self-proclaimed “unluckiest assassin in the world,” is put on the bullet train by his boss, a mysterious young woman called Maria, to steal a suitcase full of money and get off at the first stop. The lethal duo of Tangerine and Lemon are also traveling to Morioka, and the suitcase leads others to show their hands. Why are they all on the same train, and who will make it off alive?

okay i saved bullet train for last solely because. i didn't like. the book. as much as i really wanted to like the book. BUT i really do like isaka's writing and i think reading the book and watching the movie is the way to go to really appreciate what's going on in Bullet Train. that's my personal opinion.