#im so floored with how sweet and supportive everyone is

[dungeonmeshimybeloved]

Hiii!! I just finished your fanfic “Of course I came back for you” and I absolutely loved it! It was so amazing! The writing is genuinely so gorgeous and the story is just phenomenal! The ending made me wanna scream and cry :,)

I also loved how you took some of the original scenes and tweaked them to better fit the characters! I always see people complaining about it (which doesn’t make sense to me) and I think you did it well! I also liked how you added other little scenes like when Chilchuck was stitching Laios’ shirt! And when he tore it off made me wanna cry!!!

Also laios breathing fire is so cool! I also loved your characterization of them! I love the idea that Chilchuck suggested that they should eat monsters as a joke and Falin took that as Chilchuck being serious! I giggled a little at that! :)

Would you ever think about continuing the fanfic or making a full swap AU?

Thank you so much for posting this fanfic! You honestly gave me inspiration and motivation to write my fanfics (or try to actually work them out in my head). Tysm!! I loved your fanfic! Please never stop writing! <3

(I’m so sorry if any of my grammar is off, I’m not able to check it right now)

HI HELLO IM ABOUT TO EXPLODE THIS IS THE NICEST THING EVER ?? I'm so serious the amount of encouragement and support I've gotten these past few days has made me feel dizzy with excitement and I'm nearly drunk off the happy vibes. First off - your Grammar is perfect don't you worry, and Secondly!!! I would love to read your fics when you get to writing them!

This is sorta - off the cuff stream of Conscience rambling, so I apologize in advance I'm all over the place, I just -!!! Screams. I'm so happy

Firstly I wanna encourage you in your writing endevors.

Writing is a difficult process, and oftentimes, when writing, it can feel so hard to think it's actually good. I'll admit that at several points during this fic in particular, I was worried that some of the dialogue was melodramatic (specifically the bath confrontation), but that's a case of me being overly critical of my own work. When you start, aim to just have fun with it! Don't stress about making a masterpiece because you'll improve as you go, and it's likely that others won't notice the weaknesses you find in your own work. Take your time as well. I've been working on this fic over the course of a month or so, and I'm glad I started it early, because I was able to include so many details and flesh out scenes that - if I hadn't had the time - would fall flat.

I wish you luck, and I am excited to possibly read some of your works <3

Also !! I felt odd taking some of the Canon scenes and tweaking it, but I found it easier to write when I had a basis to go off of. A reference point if you will. It was like laying out ground work, so the scenes I added in (like Chilchuck stitching up Laios' shirt - only to have it torn off, I'm super pleased that it had the emotional impact I was aiming for). So thank you so much! It makes me happy to hear that it worked well in your eyes <3

And about Chilchuck joking about eating monsters, I can't really take credit for that specific detail, lol! That idea was something I borrowed from this post by Ciderjacks. It was so funny to imagine chilchuck of all people suggesting they ate monsters, I had to include it. Thank you so much, though. I had a lot of fun wrangling their characterizations to make everything work. I'm happy the characters shined though <3

To answer another question, I'm not sure if I'll continue this au! I've read the Manga to completion, and I have some ideas of how to proceed with Falin and co, but at the moment I want to take a small break from this au.

I have a couple of other fics that I've been meaning to work on and finish, so I'm most likely going to go back to those. However! That doesn't mean I won't continue this. I'll probably be thinking about it for a while, so i may be hit with inspiration to start drafting a new fic. If I do, it'll probably follow Falins perspective. She is the defacto leader of the group, after all. If you read the Manga to its completion, you'll see that she's got quite the journey ahead of her. (Ngl tho, as I think about it, I'm more and more intrigued with the idea........)

Okay, okay, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to talk about Chimera Laios bc I had thoughts that I couldn't actually incorporate into the story due to it being from Chilchucks' perspective. I have a design thought out about him, and I plan to draw it sometime soon, but with Laios, I wanted to incorporate more of the red dragons biology! (There's some slight spoilers under the cut if you're anime only, dealing with summoning monsters and their behaviors, tred carefully)

First off, him breathing fire was to make up for the fact that he didn't have magic. I imagine that in his transformation, he had some sway and was able to incorporate a way to ignite the fuel organ. Not only that, but the extra scales Laios has were actually due to the armor he went to bed in!

His arm and leg armor were still intact, so when he got fused with the dragon, the metal spread around his human portion of the body (and wings) to add a layer of durability. It's why the undines attack was deflected and why Kabrus knife broke - it's because kabru struck the metallic scales instead of the fleshy bits.

Not only that! (And this section does contain the spoilers for anime only watchers, but ill try and be vague)

But I was thinking about how dragons - when summoned - are their own creatures and can be stubborn and resist their orders. Falin was sorta - subservient to thistle as a chimera, while natural biological dragons tended to do their own thing despitr their orders.

Laios has a stronger will, and he embraces his monster form, but that means he won't just refuse to eat and rest. When he arrived at the scene with Toshiros party, he was hunting. Specifically hunting the harpies. He just so happened to stumble upon the parties. If the ninja hadn't attacked him first, he might've just left them be and left with his kills.

[cute-sucker]

oh em geeee im thinking of rafe taking you to weddings as his plus one 😇

i'd like to think he does this when the two of you are engaged??

⌗ . ·🌥⌇⁺.🌷

theres something about that man dragging you to a wedding, your his plus one and he's staring at the diamond on your finger with such vigor you would think he wanted to marry you at that second.

you like it too, the way that he watches you in your shimmery dress as if he can't get his eyes off you. not only that but he kisses you so deeply you can feel it all the way to your heart. there is something about him, the way he gets ready in a dark suit, a firm look on his face after you took hours to get ready.

and he's the type of person you don't want to invite to a wedding, because he'd asking you what you would like. at one point, he's pointing at the roses and the different foods, "yea' baby so which one do you think would look good at our wedding?"

you're blushing, but trying to tell him to stop at the same time, "rafe! you can't talk about our wedding while we're here at-"

he definitely silences you with his kiss, hands coiling around your waist and when he pulls away you're stunned the way you always are. at one point you get so drunk you start sitting on his lap telling him you want to go.

to make matters worse, he's trying to talk to the older couples as well, trying to make small talk by asking how quickly the marriage ended into the honeymoon stage, "so was it 3 days? i mean-listen between you and me, my lady and i would like to go into our honeymoon as soon as possible."

then he would give you a firm pat on the bum before you gasped and whispered your apologies.  

the two of you are horrible at weddings, and yet somewhat endearing. everyone knows rafe as the big bad wolf, but standing next to your giggly persona, a sweetness that radiates off you - he looks almost....soft.

people can see the way his eyes continuously linger over you, and how he always manages to weasel his way into the conversations you have. but he doesn't bother what others think of him, rather he stares at your bright smile and feels love grow in his heart.

especially when the heels get too much for you.

"rafe?" you mewled, practically on the floor. he looked shocked staring at your small figure under the table.

"what the hell are you doing down there?" he hisses, as you give him a dazed smile. clearly, you've had something to drink as you bite your lip before giggles escape your mouth. your laughter is a clear sign of how much you've had to drink

you sigh, tugging at the straps of your shoes, "can't get them off?"

he shakes his head, "why did you wanna wear them in the first place."

at this you pout, tilting your head down almost in sadness, "'cause they looked cute." finally, he grunts before his coarse fingers reach down to fix your heels. you let out a sign of relief when the heels unbuckle, and he stares at you with an exaggerated look.

now it's your turn to smile, "lets go home!"

you know what's coming, but you enjoy it anyway. he bundles you up in his arms - bridal style (he's horrible at weddings, yes he is,) hand supporting your back as you shyly wave your friends goodbye.

you're excited to be a mrs. cameron.

[diejager]

just thought of something really funny for the monster cod au. what if reader has a small emotional support dog, and reader is just kissing, cuddling and saying “i love you”s to the dog. do you think the animal hybrids would get jealous of the dog bc of their animal instincts?

Cw: jealousy, tell me if I missed any.

You came with a K9, a big Shepherd and collie mix that you took in after you completed you medic training, a little friend you trained and spent your time with. You two were a package deal, the Task Force wouldn’t have you without Milo, and vice versa. You were assured by Laswell that they didn’t mind K9s in the TF, it was a welcome sight to have an actual dog rather than a hybrid or monster. You took it with stride, Milo by your side at all times and they were never bothered by it, how protective he was of you and how much attention you gave him, but you hadn’t expected to see some grow… jealous of Milo.

You watched Soap and König especially turn green with envy, their burning glare shot towards you fury friend when you kissed his nose and praised him for being such a good boy. He truly was, your loyal and affectionate companion that you nurtured since he was a pup, fighting side by side with you when you were on the field. Soap - sweet Johnny - would shift more often, throwing himself at you whenever you were walking Milo. Rather than simply walking a dog, you walked a dog and a werewolf, a jealous and drooling werewolf that kept rubbing his side against yours, panting and growling out words that you didn’t understand. It was hilarious, seeing how jealousy made Johnny act, his tongue lolling out to lick over your cheek, demanding kisses and praises with his wide and gleaming eyes after you gave them to Milo. 

König was as unsubtle about it as Soap was, voicing his envy with nonverbal cues for affection. He would trail behind you, his broad figure so quiet, and tugged at your shirt, mumbling incoherent words until you gave him you attention. He’d stare you down, fluttering his lashes for compliments, whether they were teasing ones or loving ones, he took all and anything you gave him. It was rather… König was less eager than Soap was with praises, but he was more stubborn with it, silent demands and needs for the occasional praise or words of affirmation that you still loved him. 

Ghost and Horangi never showed a sign of discontent about the amount of love you gave Milo, but they did towards Soap and König’s unabashed need for it, some slight disgust and growls, snarling at the other for something you truly didn’t understand. Price and Alejandro were… they found enjoyment in your sticky situation, you caught them throwing you a mean grin when you passed them with either Soap, König or both of them stalking behind you. You remembered them calling Soap and König lost pups with heart eyes.

Then there was Gaz and Rudy, godsends, the gentle but logical figures of the team, they would step in to redirect Soap or König’s attention towards them to let you go about your day. If Johnny followed you around, a big wolf drooling all over the floor, scaring others away, Rudy would send his cadejos to herd the big wolf back. If König became your third shadow, his giant figure looming over you and making everyone hesitant to seek your help when they needed needed it, Gaz was there to offer to cuddle up in the couch and let König run his fingers through his wings. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[kadwrites]

desperate measures | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you finally take on the role of the tommy's bride-to-be.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, typos? , idk, slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you guys think! , also , i wanted to ask if you guys would want smut in this series? idk lmk

-

goosebumps prickle your skin all over, your eyes are glassy when you look down. thomas shelby is down on his knee, kissing your hand.

"tommy..." your voice is softer than you thought it would be

"ya need to be proposed to right? to be engaged?" he pulls away , his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles

neither of you have moved, you just look at each other.

you chuckle again, your eyes go to the diamond ring that rests on your finger "tommy, it's perfect."

"i wanted it to be perfect."

your heart feels like it's going to explode, maybe celest was right, maybe he isn't all that bad.

he stands up, your hand still in his "now we're engaged" he's still giving you that soft smile.

"we are." you can't help the smile that's on your lips

after he left, you hear the sounds of your friends stampeding down the stairs, as if they knew something has happened. anna helps renne down the stairs.

"let's see it" renee has a hand behind her, supporting her back and a hand on her belly, looking at you with genuine joy and excitement.

you move your hands, showing the big diamond ring, the ring shines and as soon as everyone sees it, they all gasp.

"he went down on one knee..." you whisper as you look at it, recalling what had happened, still smiling. you couldn't stop smiling, even if you tried

fiona is screaming and squealing , madeline is grabbing your hand and looking at the stone

"oh my god"

"he did what?" fiona says , her voice loud as she stares at you excitedly

anna giggles, looking at renee "who would've thought thomas shelby had it in 'im aye?"

abraham is also there , standing next to anna "that's a big fucking rock" he mutters.

"i know" you couldn't believe it either,

"oh my god, it's gorgeous" celest whispers as she stares at the ring, a hand over her mouth "let me see, let me see"

you push your hand in front of her and she takes it in hers eagerly "good lord, this must've cost 'im a fortune"

"god i'm still shaking" you laugh, your hand is unsteady "i almost dropped face first into the fucking floor." you can almost still feel his lips on your skin.

the butterflies in your stomach were still there whenever you'd remember that moment, even days after.

oliver had dropped you by tommy's office, you both needed to go over some things for the party, and you needed to go see a seamstress that'll be making your engagement dress, tommy is coming along to pay.

you walk through the halls that are now familiar to you, heading for his office.

"congratulations" the blonde woman spoke with a smile,

you stop walking, is she talking to you?. you turn and look at her "um thank you."

"i bet it took a lot of convincing aye? to finally give ya some sort of ring, some sort of.... acknowledgment" her voice is so sweet you almost wouldn't catch the malice in it "how sweet of 'im, he was willing to do something like that"

"excuse me?"

"i suppose he felt like he was lookin' for a woman who was not as ... demanding perhaps ?" her head tilts to the side "desperate times call for desperate measures"

you compose yourself, somehow you kept your anger out of your voice "ya don't know what you're talkin' about , miss carter. if i was you, i'd keep my mouth"

"oh please." she rolls her eyes, a mocking laugh is accompanied with it as she leans back in her chair "mr shelby is a good man, with a good heart, he probably did it out of pity." she coos "ya two hardly look like a couple."

"ya mind repeating those words to me, miss carter?"

tommy moved so quietly , you didn't even know he was standing beside you until he spoke.

"mr shelby..." she tries to smile, she stutters

he was watching, he always somehow is. he watched you walk, watched how you responded to her, how you held yourself.

"start talkin'." his voice was cold, it was ice cold.

her eyes widen, she licks her lips nervously "sir"

"she said that we don't look like a couple, that you're marrying me out of pity" the words that polly spoke to you, that first time you ever came here were ringing in your ear.

"is that so?" he didn't take his eyes off of her "is that so , miss carter?" he repeats.

she doesn't respond , she's just looking at him as if she wanted the earth to part and swallow her whole.

"and i'm sure that it doesn't look like i fucked 'er till her back gave out last night but looks can be deceiving, aye?"

with the way he spoke, even you almost believed him.

you held back a laugh, you tilt your head , mimicking how she spoke to you not even two minutes ago, with a small smirk on your lips. was it petty that you enjoyed this? probably, but you didn't really care.

his words did have an affect on you, but you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

her eyes dart between you and him, she tries to speak but he stops her

"i will go out with my fiancée, and when i come back i better not find one fucking trace of ya in this place."

your eyes snap to him, watching him now.

"i'm not the good man ya think i am, not to the likes of ya. the only reason i'm being forgiving today , is because my bride is next to me. next time , i wouldn't be so charitable."

he turns, his hand rests on the small of your back, taking you with him. you give the woman one last glance before you go.

she looked as if her blood stopped flowing, as if it froze in her veins ,her eyes still stuck on where tommy was.

-

taglist; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr, @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady

[yuutawe]

TAKE A BITE INTO MY HEART﹕yuta okkotsu. . .

when death strikes down those you love most, a desperate binding vow proves to be the salvation.

ꖛ warnings!‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(overall) nsfw + angst with happy ending(?)‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎major character death !‎ blood and death (mentions + slightly described) + a bit of gore (hearts) ! cannibalism ! ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎yandere appeals (?) ! mutual obsession ! jjk manga spoilers for the end of the shinjuku battle arc ! i basically threw every rule from the universe out of the window (this is not how binding vows work and im nearly sure of it, lol).

ꖛ about. * reader is gender-neutral. no anatomy specified + they/them pronouns and genderless nicknames.

ꖛ inspired by‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎so, i went back to watching hannibal. blame the homoerotic subtext in the cannibalistic series for this idea.

ꖛ author's note * repost because i can't see my post in the tags (sob). originally posted this in nov 28th.

ꖛ word count ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎1.410 (1.4k)

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎[ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎NOT PROOFREAD!]

how do you undo what can never be undone? a person's comfort when someone dies is usually knowing that it was inevitable. this fate awaits us all in the end. soon, in a day or ninety years, we too will be hidden in large wooden boxes, burned and turned to ash, or left to rot in the darkest, most forgotten corner of the world. but death changes people. its touch is not meant for those who remain alive, but it changes them all the same.

as you changed when yuta died.

the flowers seem too alive when they arrive arranged in bouquets, tied with ribbons that are too vibrant. that color bothers your eyes. or maybe he seems too colorless. it's uncomfortable.

that body on the stretcher is uncomfortable. it's unfair and uncertain. when ieiri and the others left the room ── give them a moment of privacy. you know how important it is ──, whispering behind your back as if you were an abandoned stray animal. a homeless animal, with no place in the world. pitiful. like a creature abandoned on the side of a dirty road. everyone stops to look at the tragedy, but not to help. and how they mourn. they cry more than you.

poor things. they were so happy.

swear i don't know how it happened. one minute he was fine, and the next...

i didn't think he wouldn't make it. i didn't expect this.

i can barely imagine how they must be feeling. imagine seeing someone you love die in front of you, like this.

the sound of metal being punched takes you out of your thoughts. the idea of ​​people saying this now, with you right there with his dead body in front of you, just infuriates you so much that you punched the metal tray without even realizing it. simple as that. anger took over your muscles, and several sterilized tools were thrown on the floor. everything so fast. how can something happen so fast?

how did it all happen so fast?

he was fine. he said he was going to be fine. damn it, yuta promised he was going to stay. that he needed to fight, needed to help. your role was to stay here and give support to miss ieiri.

“asshole.” you can hear yourself mumble, your voice choked with tears. “you promised.”

when you touch his hand, searching for a familiar comfort, you find only an empty shell. normally, his long fingers would gently curl to hold yours. those warm hands would hold yours and yuta’s sweet voice would murmur it’s going to be okay, my love. we’ll make it, we always do.

lying son of a bitch. that’s what you want to scream, as the words mix with please, wake up. wake up and look at me. come back to me.

his body is so cold. not cold in yuta’s way ── warm hands and cold body, but cold like death. cold because the blood has stopped running through his veins, icy because his muscles don't move or contract anymore, his organs don't work.

just a few minutes. it's still surprisingly cool for a fresh body, but he's cold in a way that almost burns you. your aching heart can’t take this sight, no.

your body bends, and your lips touch his icy forehead. those closed eyes, those blue and depressed eyes need to open again. it's the only thing that's right. a dark whisper runs through your mind. he could come back, couldn't he? so many sorcerers have already cheated death. why did her scythe need to fall right on your boyfriend?

it wouldn't be like that. not if you're really here to change the course of history. a living and perfect heart beats in your chest — his, static and dead, is still red. it's still possible. it will be messy and completely crazy, but who's going to stop you?

who would try to execute you both? without the higher-ups, the sky's the limit and the new jujutsu society rises from the rubble of the old. and what golden age doesn't deserve its own champion? may he rise from the ashes and become the new champion of a sick society: recovering from the rot caused by the corruption of the old jurisdiction, yuta will overcome death and return to his place, by your side.

only by your side.

the blood is sticky, gooey. the bright red is so grotesque against yuta's pale skin that you wonder if perhaps god created blood to convince humans to kill less. it didn't work.

as the incision is made in his chest, you quickly put your fingers inside his body. a little searching, and with more effort, you hit his heart. great. with some difficulty, you cut a piece and brings it up to your mouth.

gulp. your swallowing is like the ringing of the death bell.

his blood stains your index and middle fingers — and greedily, you raise them to your lips and stain them with red. it's like lipstick. there's a certain romanticism in that.

the price to pay is not a debt that will be collected immediately. this could backfire very quickly, perhaps in a way that no one can stop. but if this gives him back to you—

the doorknob lowers, and someone grumbles behind the door. there's not much time. you don't have any more time. hey, did you lock the door? whoever is speaking, their voices seem like background noise as you lean in to kiss his cold lips.

may you share a life, may you share gifts and curses again. pure, mutual love overcomes every kind of mortal wound and lacerating incision.

you can almost feel a deep discouragement ── no answer. it didn't work? why? do you have to take a life to give another? it would make sense. bam. bam. open the door, they say. scared of what you might do to yourself.

a hand reaches up and grabs the back of your head, pushing you down once more. and yuta leans up, his lips wrapping around your bloody ones eagerly.

the salty tears run down your cheeks, and your hands let go of the scalpel to cup his face in your hands. it’s almost animalistic, desperate, as pure love invades you both.

he leans back, breathing heavily. oh, he is breathing. yuta okkotsu has returned from the dead thanks to you.

“what is going on— i can’t— my head hurts.”

the pain that hits you right after is almost unbearable. it's like being torn in half and then put back together in a completely different way.

he holds you, still trying to shoo away the ringing in his ears. “love— love, what’s wrong?” yuta asks, grabbing your hand to settle you. to push the pain away from your beating heart. 

the heart you two now share. two halves of your heart, shared to pump life through your bodies. you’re weakened, but he is alive. it was worth the price.

the door is broken down with a bang, but you can't make yourself care. your arms wrap around what used to be a corpse, but now is back to being your sweet, lovely boyfriend. he hugs your waist, his fingers grabbing at the flesh as if he wants to make sure you’re real. this is real.

“you’re alive, baby.” you sob, and he gently kisses your tears away. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

and when the others enter the medical bay, all they see is yuta, who was dead less than a minute ago. he has a new scar on his chest, a vertical cut. the scalpel that was used to help you with the process has long been forgotten, thrown on the floor.

your chin rest at the top of his head, and it feels like you can finally breathe after drowning in grief for cold hours. — years, it’s what it felt like. he nuzzles into your warmth, stealing some for his own body.

his blood is flowing again, but he's still a little pale and the temperature is freezing in the medical bay. he rests his head against your shoulder, watching all the shocked and confused reactions from everyone else.

it's like walking straight into a sacrilege, something impossible, something that should never have happened. the breakdown of the natural order happened here, in this room. and yuta is alive.

alive, and staring at them with cold blue eyes for interrupting your moment.

© made by spiralryomen on tumblr. do not copy, repost, translate my works in this or any other site — inspirations allowed with credits.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy this, you can buy me a Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

TW: PAST SUICIDAL IDEATION, attempts of physical abuse (throwing objects), basically reader's mother being a really horrible narcissistic abusive person.

[Please read while listening to this.]

Listen to that. The opening strains of that old Elvis classic began to swell; a hush fell over the assembled guests. All eyes were drawn to the dance floor where Sabrina now stood, radiant in her lovely gown, and Andrew looked at her with such veneration, as if she had hung the very moon in the sky. In the arms of her now-husband for their first dance as a married couple, the newlyweds shone brighter than the stars outside the manor.

Sabrina’s cheeks flushed rosier than any wine—joy, adoration, and yes, a little champagne too—had left her glowing in a way you’d never seen before this man came into her life, and your heart swelled with happiness for her.

When at last the song ended and they shared a lingering kiss, you joined the room in applause. Someone handed them a mic, and the two tried to pass the mic to each other until Sabrina was the first to give a speech. Andrew squeezed her hand, gave her an encouraging smile, and nodded.

Clearing her throat, Sabrina spoke into the mic. “Hi, everyone,” she began, voice ringing out sweet and clear through the speakers. “I just want to say thank you all for being here on this special day. Sharing it with my family and friends who mean so much to me has made it truly magical.” Another applause returned her gratitude before receding again when she was about to continue.

With misty eyes, Sabrina then turned to her step-father. “I want to thank Jim, for raising me as your own since I was little. You’ve always been the best dad a girl could ask for.”

Then, you watched her smile at her mother. “And Mom, where do I even begin? You've been my rock since day one. From keeping me sane while wedding planning to celebrating with me every step, you know I wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be the strong, independent woman I am today without you and Jim. I love you both so much.”

When Sabrina's parents—Jim and Joyce—approached her and gave the couple a big hug, another round of applause arose from the guests. But as Joyce placed a final kiss on Sabrina's cheek before stepping back, the world seemed to dim around you.

Suddenly, everything is so foreign—the image in front of you was never presented to you. Aunt Joyce looks genuinely happy for her daughter, and Sabrina hugs her like she cannot imagine life without her mother—which, at some point in your life, you did believe too. Mother’s words, “You won’t survive without me,” ring like angry bees.

Yet now, the thought of sharing a roof with her again feels unbearable.

Joyce and Sabrina look... uncomplicated, despite your mother's statements about how your aunt wasn't prepared for motherhood. And suddenly, everything feels numb, and you're disconnected.

In your reverie, you missed some of the speeches, only blinking back to reality when Sabrina and Andrew’s enthusiastic cheers echoed through the room. The crowd roared as the romantic notes of the new music played, “Until I Found You” inviting guests to join in the dancing.

As you do at the few parties you’ve been invited to in your entire life, you stay away from the dance floor and become a loyal wallflower. However, this time, with a companion—a better people-watcher than you, Simon. The man sweeps his brown irises around, examining people before one makes him chuckle under his mask.

“Look at that old man, still got it in ‘im, eh?” He commented, his tone tinged with amusement.

Your gaze trails Simon's. Among the dancing couples were your other uncle and aunt, their smiles highlighting the lines on their seventy-something faces, clearly having more life in them than many of the younger ones. You chuckled to yourself.

“Actually, that’s Uncle Mick and Aunt Sarah,” you reply, watching the old couple share a laugh amidst the music. “They’ve been married longer than I’ve been alive. Slow dancing is kind of their forte.”

More people-watching, but you fail to notice how often Simon steals glances at you between his own. And by the luminosity of your eyes, he is drawn like an insect in a blazing fire. His slow, "near-dying" heart has yet to realize the change in him. Simon plays on the edges of the rotting wood.

Straightening his gaze, he strikes up a question: “If that old bugger can still cut a rug, why ain’t the famous ballerina ‘avin’ a spin, eh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Simon’s gruff invitation, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest with a foreign carefree ring that you didn’t recognize. Meeting his eyes, you saw amusement there but also something that told you he was serious. Heart tiptoeing at the edges of your ribs, your fingers busying themselves with their own bustle.

Biting your lip, you gazed up at him through your lashes, feeling a smile curling the corners of your mouth. "I don't know," you shrugged your shoulders. “I might suck at slow dancing.”

Simon scoffed. “Absolute bollocks.”

At his disapproval, your smile widened, teeth peeking out from behind those pretty lips. You gazed up at him, searching for something intently.

Somehow in that moment, the noisy celebration around you seemed to fade into a blur, narrowing your world until it was just Simon standing before you. Your chest warmed, as if caressed by the sun on a lush spring day. Capillaries rushed, painting your bones pink. Pink.

Gathering your courage, you mimicked Simon's invitation. “Unless... you're willing to be the judge of that yourself?”

The question came out just above a whisper, heavy with promise. With your heart dangling at the tip of your throat, anticipation mixed with anxiety gnawed at you faster than any termite. Simon gave a subtle nod towards the dance floor with his chin.

“Come on then,” he rumbled.

As Simon led you, you couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella herself; this room made a fairytale for you. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you close so your bodies swayed as one. You shyly wrapped your free hands around his neck.

The romantic music continues to flow, caressing your ears with the singer's warm voice, Stephen Sanchez, if your memory serves you right. The merciless thumping in your ribcage persists, and you wonder if Simon feels it, if he has his own version resonating in the hollow of his chest. Settling into a slow sway, you feel his shoulders relax.

“You’re not gonna turn into a swan on me now, are ya? Would be a right shame to ruin such a lovely dance.” Simon asked, tone lighthearted. After mentioning your upcoming ballet performance, he doesn’t slow down his series of jokes about it.

You threw your head back in laughter. “You know that’s not how the story goes.”

Simon's grin grew wide beneath his mask. Cocking a brow, he said, “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, love.” He challenged.

Taking a deep breath that lifted the smile still on your face, you began the long story of Swan Lake—about what happened to Odette and her flock by the sparkling lake and mostly things you had memorized many times. "So when Siegfried finally learns the truth, it’s too late—Odette ends her life by jumping from a cliff.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he reacts, and you let out a girlish laugh. “That’s tragic.”

You shrug. “I always thought it was kind of romantic.” You giggle again—God, the way this man can make you giggle like a silly schoolgirl—when you see the reaction reflected in his eyes.

“You’re a right bloody psycho, you know that?”

You deadpanned. “I’m not a psycho.” Your tone was flat, trying to be serious but the stubborn grin that followed ruined it.

“She should’ve just gone for another bloke.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, she can’t. She’s been cursed to be a swan forever.”

“Then she should’ve just lived out ‘er days as a swan then,” he said with pragmatism, very much lacking the charm of a fairy tale with all those logics. “Should’ve chased that arse’ole prince all over kingdom for revenge instead. Give ‘im a good peckin’.”

You exhaled in exasperation, but your lips held back a smile. “Please just stop talking.”

Simon chuckled, and fortunately, for his own good, he did. The music was nearing its end, but you were still swaying. Something caught his gaze over your shoulder. He looked back at you, raising a brow to make a suggestion.

“Should we do a spin?” he asked.

“What?”

He nods his chin behind you, and you follow suit—a young couple laughing as they twirl. “Should we give it a go?”

It's somewhat whimsical, somewhat absurd, that not only is this hulking man dancing with you, but he also wished to twirl you like you were partners in some grand ballroom. Yet, as you stare into his smiling eyes, you swear there’s a hint of excitement in them. And what good is a ballerina without a performative twirl?

“Okay,” you accepted his offer.

You placed your hand in his, feeling the rough calluses of his fingers but somehow right against your skin. At your subtle cue, Simon raised your joined palms, spinning you outward in elegance and then back into the solid wall of his chest.

“One more time.” You said, and he did as you asked.

You cup his mask-hidden jaw, feeling for each woven polypropylene against your fingers. The plum of your smiling lips swells with desire, and without thinking, you press your lips to his cheek. Your heart skips a beat, gripped by a jolt of trepidation, fear, and regret that perhaps you have crossed a line, that you might drive him away.

But Simon doesn't.

Instead, he seized your waist and drew you close, eliminating any distance between you. The air was snatched from your lungs in a stolen gasp with the force of his possessive move. Like a lover accompanied by passion as he reaps longing.

(I swell with hope, in the sweet desire of a girl seeking love.)

“I’m dyin’ for a smoke.” He confessed.

You glanced around at the lively party still swirling around you. Turning back to him, you suggested, “Should we slip out the back then?”

“Sure.”

Smiling up at him, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze before untangling them from your waist. “You go on ahead—I just need to swap to flats real quick.” You gestured to the high heels that had been enveloping your throbbing toes for hours.

As Simon nodded and turned to go, you hurried off the floor, limping just slightly. The celebratory noise faded as you stepped to the left side of the manor, where the hallway to your room stretched in silence. You turned the doorknob, and the old wood swung with a low creak.

Walking to your suitcase, you flipped it open, took out your Mary Janes, and replaced your high heels with them with a sigh of relief.

Just as you moved to stand, you heard footsteps approaching, then a shadow fell across the open door. Too small to be Simon. Looking up with a start, your heart nearly dropped when you found your mother standing there, arms crossed in a frown full of distaste.

“I've been watching you all night with that… man. You're getting far too comfortable, are you?”

That tone—that same tone that you had heard countless times growing up, signaling the beginnings of an argument. Your shoulders tensed. The pulse inside you quickened as your defenses began to rise, readying themselves in anticipation of the barrage of barbed words that might come next.

The oceans dividing San Francisco and London were supposed to end whatever connection existed between you both—to pretend that it didn’t exist. It should have been a clean finale, allowing you to simply live as a normal girl with normal reactions to everything, as if nothing bad had ever happened to you.

Yet, look, your traitor body is gearing up for battle just the same. Your mind may lie, you may lie, but the wound bearer presents the results of years of being forged beneath her. 5,351 miles stretched, but you are still the same sixteen-year-old girl who bit her tongue, holding her words like a criminal about to be executed on the spot.

What a mother-daughter relationship you have.

You watch warily as Mother begins circling the room, her high heels clicking ominously, slightly showing the red soles beneath them. Louboutins, you remember. You also remember all too well how much those had cost—the very shoes you had “helped” fund years ago when you foolishly still let her access your bank account, even after you turned nineteen.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Mother tries the first question, testing the waters.

Like a frightened little girl—that same little girl from that sunny day so many years ago—you deflect the real question, “Because I invited him.”

Mother, unimpressed, casts you a sharp look, as if daring you to dare her. “You know what I mean. Do you know why he’s here?”

You bit your lip, grasping at straws. “He’s… my boyfriend.”

Mother scoffed mockingly. She turned to you, face contorted in amusement as if you had just told the funniest joke. “Boyfriend? Please. Is that what you think?”

You flinched back as Mother suddenly whirled to face you, her sculpted features twisting into a reflection of pure, unbridled rage. The similar pair of eyes glared at you wide. She buried her nails deep into your epidermis, and you gasped from the sting.

“The only reason a man would want you is between your legs. You think you found love, but really he's with you only because you're easy. You’re just a cheap fuck to him, (Y/N).”

The hot, stinging droplets gathered and spilled over without your permission. You hated yourself for fueling her twisted satisfaction. Hating that she still knew exactly where to aim her barbs to find their mark after all these years.

But nothing compares to the fact that she is your mother. She is your mother, and yet, how could those words come out of her mouth so easily? As if her criticisms had festered within her mind and she was finally allowing them to escape. There's a small, broken part of you that can't help but wonder—and why do you even wonder? You know yourself better than she does, surely.

Or do you?

Or is it true that there really is nothing to take beyond your body like the unloveable, worthless child she always says you are?

You felt a spark of anger flare. “How could you say that to me?” you choked out, baring your wounded heart. Wrong move—you know this, proved many times that showing emotion had never gotten anywhere with Mother before.

But the younger, wounded teenager in you would always crave some kind of validation, some sign she truly cared. Perhaps hidden beneath the person she's become, she still holds a flicker of the warmth she once felt for you. You’re her daughter, and she’s your mother—shouldn’t that be enough for her to finally treat you like one?

“I’m only telling you the truth so you won’t be naive. Do you think he’ll love you when there are so many girls out there who are much prettier than you?”

At times, the wiser you knew not to take Mother’s words to heart—your survival instincts, born of too many experiences, told you not to let her poison seep into your skin. But more often than not, you didn’t know better. Right now, you don’t know better.

(Prying my mouth open, she dripped her bitter blood until we were indistinguishable.)

Clenching your fist, you say through gritted teeth, “You don’t know him.”

Mother’s features bent in hate at your rebellion. The young daughter no more, grown into someone who dared to talk back rather than just gulping down her every word raw.

“And you do?” she spat. “How long have you known this man? Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, but not convinced enough for her to see the gap in your expression.

“Not my business? Of course it’s my business – I’m your mother!”

Summoning the last of your courage, you mumbled, “You’re not… my mother.”

Her neat eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What did you just say to me?”

It was a second chance, one she rarely gave. For a moment, you considered taking it back—rewording your reply to something less confrontational, something safer. But you were sick of it—years of carrying her wounds you hadn’t even caused, weighing your body down and sinking them deeper into pitless hell. Of always looking past her anger and ego, finding justifications and reasons to tolerate her. Of being under her control when the young girl inside you needed her anger represented.

And you repeated it without rewording: “You’re not my mother. Not anymore.”

As it left your lips, you saw a flicker of change in Mother’s expression—was that hurt in her eyes? So foreign was her expression that you almost doubted yourself. Regret seized you along with the guilt and self-loathing that gripped your heart.

Then, the hurt blinked away as if it was never there. “Look at you,” she hissed, “throwing away your mother, the woman who birthed and raised you with great difficulty, all for some worthless man. I'm not even surprised if you end up pregnant in a few months, or maybe you already are. Don't say I didn't warn you when he leaves you with a bastard child.”

And they were right when they said that anger is the most effective key.

Moments ago, you can still find the shadow of that sixteen-year-old girl remains within, with pieces of her innocence—a bit of a child’s grin. Her body is still in fear, yet her eyes are always yearning for praise from her mother’s voice.

However, as the grown woman you are ignites in a seething cauldron of fury—disagreement with Mother’s treatment—the little girl begins to fade, reduced to ashes amidst the fire. The “why” question echoes loudly with demands. I'm your baby—you made me; why do you hurt me?

“Why? Why are you so sure only bad things will happen? Why can’t you believe I can find happiness?” Warm tears welled up, tasting salty on your lips as you asked.

Mother raised a warning finger. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

But you’ve passed the point of backing down. “Why? Why are you so convinced I’ll always be unhappy? WHY?!”

(As if it had been written long before my creation.)

Taking a sharp, short breath, you feel self-control slipping away. Your lungs hitched with condemnation, constricting you, trying to escape the hell Mother handmade just for you. You’re crossing the line; something scolds (the same voice your mother planted early on) inside your head, but you refuse to give in.

The dim red light between the cracks in your skull grows brighter, and the next thing you say are the words you've been holding back for so long:

“I’m not you! And what happened with Dad was not my fault!”

And finally, silence fills the small space between you, followed by the faint echo of your voice. As the last syllable faded, the words that had been spoken left you feeling conflicted. That little girl would consider this disobedience—the result of the doctrine your mother spat at her every day—but all you know now is the strange lightness in your heart, as if shedding a massive burden that you didn’t realize you had been carrying your whole life.

Mother took a sharp, hissing breath, and you saw the subtle quiver in her clenched jaw. “You're out of line,” she said.

“I'm out of line?! You were the first one to cross that line, over and over, hurting me for years, but now that I finally do it to you, now I'm the one who's out of line?!” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush, all the pain and anger that you had piled up erupting to the surface. “You've always hurt me, said awful things, made me feel like nothing! But the second I did it to you, suddenly I'm the bad one? That's not fair!"

In the blink of an eye, she extends her perfectly manicured hand to grasp the first object within her reach—a heavy crystal paperweight on the table. Your eyes are glued to it, feet ready to flee when she hurls it at you.

“You fucking ungrateful bitch!” she screamed.

Some distant, rational part of you knows you should dodge. But a darker impulse held you frozen, as if welcoming the blunt object to damage your epidermis and even more so to become evidence of her abuse. And perhaps, once the crimson drips from your split temple, it will be enough to reveal the true identity she has been hiding—to destroy the loving mother image she has carefully built for years.

You will make a spectacle of the wound, perhaps even exaggerating it a bit like Mother always did.

It came so close when it landed on the floor next to you. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Mother’s face flushed like the devil as she shouted, “I should never have given birth to you!”

Strange, that relief is what washes over you when her words land in your ears. Because for the first time, the two of you agreed on something – she wished you had never been born, just as you had so often wished the same.

Those “precious” teenage years were filled with alternating fantasies—some days hoping she might die, others wishing it was you instead. But you were never able to go through with killing her, or yourself. Because being without Mother meant being utterly lost and alone, and you were too cowardly to cut your wrist open. More days though, you regretted it—how it might have all ended sooner if only you had been braver.

You wonder who's to blame to just make sense of it—perhaps Mother's mother had been cruel, and she thought she had broken the cycle. Perhaps Joyce, for always being the golden child despite everything. Perhaps Dad. Perhaps you.

All those long, drawn-out years, you stayed, you suffered for her. Because the little girl in the bright pink shoes—the color that matched Mother's favorite dress before she threw it away—loved her mother so much. Always making excuses for her. Maybe she didn't know how to love me, or I didn't understand her way of loving me. Maybe somewhere in her anger were kisses in her own language.

You stood frozen as hollowness spread through your chest, as if the eruption had cleansed you until nothing but an empty clarity remained. Even when Simon entered the room, you didn't notice his presence until he spoke.

“Fuck’s all this?” His question didn’t really wait for an answer as he rushed to your side.

Mother smoothed her hair imperiously, then said: “We were just having a talk.”

Simon’s brown eyes scan the scene: the shattered paperweight, Mother’s suspicious fist. He then turns to examine you carefully, searching for any injuries and only letting out a slight sigh when he finds none.

“Go wait in the car. I’ll sort our things.” Simon orders, and without argument, you nod, walking out of the bedroom.

The room felt heavier with tension after you departed, leaving Simon alone with your seething mother. He moved with purpose, in a quick and efficient mind, as he gathered your things—a toothbrush and hairbrush from the bathroom, dresses from the closet, pulling out drawers for any other items. After throwing them into your suitcase, he tidied up his own things with even more haste and less care.

As he picked up his abandoned tie, Mother cleared her throat. “You don’t need to do this, you know. I know my daughter better than anyone, and she’s not what you really need.”

For a moment, Simon paused, jaw working as he reined his temper. Mother thought she had his attention—finally getting him to listen to her. But soon enough, he resumed his task as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

Undeterred, she pressed on. “There are prettier, worthier girls than her. Ones who won’t cause you so much trouble.”

Simon’s hands stilled at that, Mother thought she had succeeded in making him consider. Slowly, he turned to face the older woman. But what she read in his eyes was not a realization or even a spark of curiosity. No, it was a look that suggested he knew a lot about people like her, had seen a lot despite him being a decade her junior.

“That what you tell ‘er then?” He began, hate raining down like hail in his voice. “That she ain’t good enough, or pretty enough? That she’s nothin’ but trouble?”

The woman met his gaze, and Simon noticed how her eyes were shaped like yours, except colder, full of twisted conviction whenever she talked about you. “I only speak the truth, for her own good. Someone has to keep that headstrong girl in line before she comes to ruin.”

At that, he let out an impolite scoff, but Simon gave zero fucks. “Yeah? Cause all I see is you tryin’ to keep ‘er under yer thumb.”

Simon watched as the woman's face contorted into an ugly frown of dislike; her mask had been abandoned somewhere. He wondered how you survived all those years at home, how you could still say you “love her to bits” on your first meeting.

But he supposes that’s how children are. Misplaced unconditional love for their lifegivers. Sometimes, his critical mind thinks it’s a shame for the Man in the Sky to give little humans to people who don’t deserve them—to abusers, addicts, snakes like this one right here. But then again, Simon had no right to complain when he stopped believing in any of all that years ago—after he lost everyone that mattered.

"I'm her mother." She repeated.

“And she’s yer daughter. Not yer pet or yer little dog to order about.”

As Simon returned to tending to the bags, the woman took a slow, deep breath. "I know men like you," she replied. “You think you're protecting her—you think you're saving her, but all you want is a girl to use and toss aside once you've grown bored.”

Simon’s tedious task came to a halt, the zipper of the bag half-open. He furrowed his blond brows, brown eyes focused on nothing. Before long, he gathered the bags and shouldered them, his free hand dragging the suitcase as he walked through the gaping door. That woman spoke again, but he turned a deaf ear to her venomous spit.

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𝔇𝔬 𝔜𝔬𝔲 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔠𝔥𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔗𝔬𝔫𝔢?

siren furina au

warnings: none really (maybe some mild gore? but thats it)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: this is part of @edgeray 's halloween event. i hope everyone enjoys! (also please dont let this flop, i know im not a Tumblr Writer but still)

The waves crashed against the hull of the Alcor, a sea of obsidian in the dark night. Nothing could be seen except the massive ship cutting through the waves. Beidou stood at the helm, navigating through the choppy waters and narrowly dodging jagged rocks that threatened to sink the ship and its crew and drag them to the bottom of the sea. You stood at the starboard side of the ship, tightly gripping at the railing as a few other pirates tried to calm you down. Your face was somehow both pale with fear and green with nausea as your eyes surveyed the water’s surface, looking for any sign of the missing woman that Fontaine turned itself upside down to look for.

Furina had gone missing months ago without any trace. All of a sudden, nobody saw her out and about in the streets of Fontaine. Nobody had seen her ordering a slice of her favorite cake at the Hotel Debord, nobody had seen her at the Opera Epiclese watching the newest drama, and nobody had seen her taking a stroll with her theatre troupe while discussing plans for their newest show.

All the fingers pointed to the Fatui Harbinger Arlecchino. The second word got out about Furina’s disappearance, Monsieur Neuvillette had ordered that the Harbinger be captured and put on trial. The air in the courtroom was stifling. Nearly the entire city crowded into the courtroom to witness the trial, with some people sitting in the middle of the floor and some people even hanging off of the pillars lining the walls to get a better view.

“Where were you on the Night of Miss Furina’s disappearance?” Neuvillette questioned, his voice booming throughout the opera house.

The Harbinger kept a level head, clearly recounting the days leading up to Furina’s disappearance. Most of it was her day-to-day business dealings and duties as a father to many children, but one piece of evidence caught the Iudex’s attention:

“I was right here in this building. My children, Lyney and Lynette, had a rather important magic show. Freminet even joined as a prop holder. A past associate of one of their childhood idols was in town, and they wanted to put on their best performance, so naturally, as their father, I chose to support their endeavour.”

“And how long did you remain at the Epiclese for?”

“Until my children’s performance was through. Afterwards, we stopped by the Cafe Lucine and picked up a few sweets to bring back to the House of the Hearth.”

Neuvillette hit his cane against the ground like a gavel. “May the witness please come to the stand?”

A man of about 40 years stepped up to the witness seat opposite to Arlecchino with a rather accusatory look on his face.

“Your Honor, I saw this Harbinger wait around until the night’s performances were over, hours past what she states, and on my way out, I saw her walk backstage after most of the performers and actors had either left or gone out into the main seating area. I’ve prepared evidence for my case. If you look at the pictures I’ve taken,” he paused, allowing an officer to hand Neuvillette an envelope filled with about ten different pictures, “you will see signs of a struggle, or a confrontation. Observe the scratch marks on the chair that perfectly match this Harbinger’s wretched talons. Look at the broken glass across the floor, undoubtedly used to knock Lady Furina unconscious. There were remains of a liquid on the floor, and after testing, it was determined that it was Sinthe.” He paused to let a shocked gasp emanate from the audience before continuing. “Therefore, I conclude that The Knave snuck backstage and attempted to drug Lady Furina with a bottle of Sinthe. Lady Furina, of course, put up a valiant effort, and The Knave resorted to crude acts of violence, shattering the bottle over her head and rendering her unconscious. From there, she took Furina’s body and disappeared back to her Fatui Headquarters. We know from several sources that the House of the Hearth has had long business dealings with child experimenters and murderers. I fear deeply for what has befallen our beloved actress, Your Honor, and I want nothing more than to bring her back safely, out of the clutches of this wretch.”

One sailor, the taller one out of the two, spoke up first. “We- we were sailing down to Bayda Harbor down in Sumeru to trade spices and sugar, and,” he stopped to catch his breath, his hands on his knees, “we were about halfway there when suddenly, these clouds covered all the stars and the moon, and this fog came over the water, about as thick as a stew. We had to light all of the lanterns on our ship, and we still couldn’t see anything. Then, a couple of our men – there were seven of us to begin with – started complaining of this high-pitched ringing sort of noise. A couple of them started leaning over the edge of the boat as we kept making our way to the harbor, but more slowly this time, on account of the fog. As we got closer, we heard a woman’s voice in the distance. It was- it was piercing, and-” The man’s eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards. Neuvillette jumped up to get him a chair and a glass of water while the other sailor continued the story.

From that point, time became a blur. Arlecchino was sent to the Fortress of Meropide for two months while the overworld scrambled to find any leads. A few frantic sailors came back one night clamoring about the voice of a siren that bore a striking resemblance to Furina, falling on top of each other on their way to Neuvillette’s office to recount their tale.

“So, we heard this voice singing this tune. Alphonse here started shouting at everyone to put wax in their ears. He dragged me below the deck to get sponges, wax, anything to block the sound out of our ears, but it was too late once we got back up. Nobody was at the helm. Our captain jumped into the water. We saw two other men jump into the water despite our attempts to drag them back. The last thing we saw was this…I don’t know how to describe her…phantom looking creature, I suppose, jump up the side of the ship. She had these claws and fangs, the whole deal. She latched onto our last man and ripped his arm off, then dragged his body underwater. The only thing I could hear was his screams, and archons, it was awful. Our ship hit some rocks and started sinking right as the lights of Bayda Harbor came into view. The vessel was ruined, and Alphonse and I had to cling to the rock in hopes that whatever creature attacked us wouldn’t come kill us. I feel like I nearly died out there, shivering in the cold. Thankfully someone heard us shouting and came to rescue us on a raft.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes as he listened to the tale. “Could you further describe the creature that attacked you? I believe this may be a lead to our missing person case.”

“I don’t think it was Lady Furina, Monsieur, but I’ll try my best,” Alphonse said, taking a deep breath, “Long white hair, a gaunt face, bony hands…I didn’t get a good look at her eyes, but I think they were either blue or white. Just a very skinny thing. I didn’t see her lower half because she was just hanging off the side of the boat, but from what I could see, her frame was pretty small.”

“I think we have a lead.”

The Iudex then scrambled to find somebody, anybody to sail out into the sea that separated Fontaine and Sumeru to find this murderous creature that had a slight chance of being Lady Furina. Every sailor that he asked nearly immediately shut down any offer of Mora, even when offered billions, enough to support their families down to the seventh generation. By some stroke of luck, Captain Beidou of Liyue was on a voyage that crossed paths with Fontaine. When the Alcor sailed into Lumidouce Harbor, Beidou was bombarded by several officers of the Court of Fontaine, all begging her to bring the mystery to a close.

“Captain Beidou! Thank the archons you’re here!”

“Beidou! Captain! We have a commission for you!”

“We’ll compensate you accordingly! Billions of Mora!”

“Please, Captain! We’ve nobody else on the case!”

The four officers nearly tripped over their own feet the moment Beidou stepped foot onto land for the first time in days. She stumbled back slightly before squaring her shoulders and steadying herself.

“Woah, woah, calm down everyone. I know I’m popular, but you’re gonna have to slow down so I can listen to all of what you have to say,” the captain said as her crew exited the ship, not so nonchalantly listening in to the conversation happening at the docks.

“Captain,” a man with auburn hair and a mustache said, stepping forward, “we’ve had a strange case around Fontaine lately, pertaining to the seas. You see, our former archon, Lady Furina, went missing two months ago. We’ve exhausted all of our leads on land since then, even locked up one of those Fatui Harbingers on account of the evidence stacked against her. A few weeks ago, Monsieur Neuvillette received news of a group of sailors getting dragged to the bottom of the sea by a monster, leaving only two survivors. Based on the survivors’ description, it seems like this ‘monster’ was actually Furina herself. We don’t know what the truth is at this point, but we’ve been trying to get somebody to sail into those waters, hunt down that monster, and bring her back alive to figure out what really happened. We’ll offer you five billion Mora for her capture. Nobody has accepted any other offer, and frankly, we’re running out of options at this point. What do you say?”

Beidou’s working eye widened as she processed all of the information. “Well, I’ve dealt with a god of the sea before, so I think I’ll be fine. I’ll drop the voyage I’m on right now and pass it onto one of my Fontaine contacts. I’m sure it’ll go smoothly. I’ll do it."

That’s when you, a member of Beidou’s crew, caught wind of everything. She trusted you the most to escape from this voyage unscathed, so you were going to keep watch on the deck for Lady Furina while Beidou stayed up at the helm.

The officers heaved a sigh of relief, profusely thanking the pirate before sending her to Neuvillette’s office for more information.

The night you disembarked on your voyage, the officers dragged Arlecchino up from the Fortress of Meropide and let Beidou lock her up in the brig below deck in hopes that the Harbinger would be of some use regarding information related to the disappearance of Lady Furina. Unfortunately for everyone, the Harbinger did nothing except scratch sigils into the wood planks of the ship and say she didn’t know anything.

“I honestly do not know why they’ve kept me locked up for so long after I’ve gone through several rounds of interrogation and told them everything I know,” the Harbinger said whenever you passed by the cell she was held in.

“Well, all I know is that you’re rather close with Furina, and you may be of some use to our case, so that’s why you’re here.”

“Close with her, absolutely,” Arlecchino muttered in a snide tone, “Useful to your case, absolutely not. The only thing I can think of is to lure her in with a slice of that limited 16 slices a day cake. She goes wild for that.” The Harbinger sighed and went back to scratching her mysterious sigils into the wood.

You shrugged and went up above deck, greeted by the stars and moonlight guiding the Alcor through the surprisingly calm waters.

“For everything those sailors said, it’s pretty calm right now,” you said to Beidou.

“I think it’s more like the calm before the storm, sweetheart. Look up there.” You followed where she was pointing, up towards the horizon, where the starlight suddenly died out, not due to the presence of any clouds. There was simply a solid line where the stars went black, and the moonlight did not reflect off of the water underneath that portion of the sky. You couldn’t tell if it was the gust of chilly wind or the eeriness of the dark sky that sent a shiver through your body and made you want to turn the ship around and never come back. But of course, you knew better as a sailor, as a pirate, and you bit your tongue. “I know. It makes me uneasy too,” Beidou said, as if reading your mind.

The Alcor kept cutting through the water effortlessly. The sound of the waves began to dull, becoming a mere echo, similarly to how the world begins to grow dark when one is about to pass out. You kept turning back to look at the stark contrast between the horizon ahead of and behind you, and the sickening feeling that grew inside you each time you looked at the cold void ahead of you.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Beidou muttered under her breath. As if on cue, one of the lanterns on the edge of the ship went out with a whisper of the wind. Several men on the deck scrambled to relight it, shouting and falling over each other. One man stood with his hands around the lantern, as if trying to shield it from the wind, and others did the same for the other sources of light around the ship. Beidou cursed under her breath, tightening her grip around the wheel and rolling her shoulders back.

“No,” Beidou answered after a moment, “I think we’re getting closer to finding our lady. Go get that Harbinger from below the deck. See if you can get anything out of her.”

“Should we turn back now?” you asked, growing more sick and more faint with each passing second.

You nodded, eager to get away from the eerie atmosphere for even a moment. You took your time descending the stairs to the lower levels of the ship, where Arlecchino was being held. She languidly looked up at you, her red eyes flickering in the low lighting of the ship.

“The captain wants you above deck now,” you said, taking out the key to unlock the cell door, as well as the rather comically large chains that bound her wrists.

“Thank the archons,” Arlecchino hummed, rubbing her wrists, “The air was getting rather stuffy down here.” You led her up the stairs and out onto the deck, and saw her eyes widen at the blank night sky. “Wow,” she drawled, “Oh, you’re all fucked.”

A crew member walked up to the Harbinger, about a head taller than her. “Give us information on where Lady Furina is.”

“You know, after all this trouble, you’d think that if I knew anything about our Lady’s whereabouts, I’d tell you, right?” she scoffed, “There’s really no need to keep accusing me of such things.”

“Tell us where she is!”

“For the love of Celestia, I don’t know,” Arlecchino sneered, “And if you keep insisting that I do, maybe I’ll just damn you all to a fate far worse than that of the sailors a few weeks ago.” Her eyes flickered like embers at the end of the sentence, causing the man to back away and slink back over to his previous spot near the ship’s lamps.

Little by little, the waves grew larger, rocking the ship back and forth like a ragdoll. Beidou’s expression darkened in determination, squinting to just barely see the jagged rocks jutting up above the waves, eager to pierce the hull of the ship and bring it down to the Primordial Sea.

Despite the efforts of the crew, a lantern went out with another near-silent whisper of the wind. Then another. Then another, until all of the lanterns were out, leaving nothing but the smell of smoke on the deck. There was a faint sound of the crew scrambling to relight them once again before the sharp cry of a woman, then the nauseating sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping, before the lanterns suddenly relit themselves.

You stumbled back in horror to see nothing but the woman’s head lying on the deck, frozen in an expression of sheer terror. A pool of blood surrounded it, the dark liquid trailing over the side of the deck and into the black water below. You felt a faint tapping on the starboard side of the ship when you leaned over it, trying to see anything in the water that could’ve killed that woman so quickly, but you saw nothing.

“Oh no,” Arlecchino murmured. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she grinned. “Be quiet. Listen.” You did, straining your ears to hear a high pitched note ringing out over the ocean, belonging to a soprano voice, one that was rather unmistakable amongst the people of Fontaine.

“Oh god,” you muttered.

In the faint lantern light, you saw one of the crew members begin to walk towards the edge of the ship. There was a glazed look in his eyes and a robotic nature to his movements, even as two men attempted to hold him back by the arms with all the strength they could muster. He broke free of their hold, stumbling over the side of the ship and crashing into the water below. One of the men tripped after him, accidentally going down right along with him. The second they both hit the water, the soprano voice grew louder, singing a song that sent chills through your body, as if each note pierced your soul to let your deepest fears seep in.

“I’m not staying here for this,” Arlecchino said as soon as the voice grew louder, “I’m locking myself in the brig this time.” With that, the Harbinger disappeared below the decks once again, chaining herself up and locking the door to the brig all over again.

“Everyone, find something to put in your ears! Block out the sound of that voice!” Beidou shouted, quickly turning around and searching the crate behind her for a container of wax. She put two pieces in her ears and urged for everyone to do the same.

The lanterns went out again. The same sounds of chaos ensued, but this time with more grotesque sounds of flesh rending and the pained screams of several men and women.

The lanterns relit themselves again. People scrambled over to the crates scattered across the deck, fighting each other over who could put the wax in their ears to block out the siren’s call first. All the while, the voice got louder, and her song more enticing, as if the temptress was watching the chaos unfold on the deck.

A few times, you felt something brush against your ankle, wet, slimy, grotesque, like a piece of seaweed winding around your leg when you go swimming in the ocean. But this was different. It was almost sentient. Each time you felt it, your eyes shot down to the planks below your feet, but you saw nothing, only the seemingly eternal flickering of the lamps disorienting you even more as you stumbled along the deck, heart beating angrily in your chest, threatening to jump out of your throat along with the bile that so badly wanted to come up. The sweet song of the siren veered you off course, made you dizzy with some strange, intoxicating desire.

The scene around you became a blur of panic, blood, and shouts of fear and anguish. You’re sure that somebody’s blood had been spattered across your shirt as they were dismembered and dragged to the eternally dark depths of the sea, but you couldn’t be fully aware of it. A sickening dizziness overtook you all of a sudden, and everything became suddenly unbearably overstimulating. The siren’s song pierced your ears as if it were trying to wedge its way through your skull and shatter the bone, a deep ache settling in between your ears as you almost drunkenly slumped over the hull. You could see your heartbeat at the edges of your vision, bright and blurry, as you looked out to the sea and its few waves illuminated by the faint flickering lights on the ship.

An abrupt movement caught your eye, shifting your gaze to a nearby rock up ahead. Through your blurred vision you could see a pale outline on rock’s otherwise black surface. The ship got closer, and the siren’s song grew louder. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as the white figure grew clearer and clearer, but still, you tried to deny what you were seeing, chalking it up to insanity and delusions, but your eyes were not deceiving you.

On the rock sat a creature with a human head and torso, with pale blue hair and eyes of two different tones. Her skin was covered in an array of blood, seaweed, and cuts. Whether most of the blood belonged to herself or to others was a mystery, though. Her hands were long and sinewy, with claws replacing where a human’s nails would be. Blood covered her limbs up to her elbows. Her lower half was not human, though; rather, it was akin to the tail of a mermaid, dark blue in color, and glittering in the faint light.

“Furina.”

Your eyes met hers, and it felt as though a predator had just set a target upon you. Furina bared her teeth in one of the most disturbing smiles you had ever seen and pushed herself off the rock and into the choppy waves below.

You began to lose all hearing except for Furina’s song, the sounds of the crew around you fading to barely a muffled whisper. You thought that you felt them try to jostle you out of your stupor, but you weren’t sure.

You felt a sharp pain and pressure behind your shoulder blades as something dragged you over the edge of the ship. The cold ocean water enveloped you, and you opened your eyes, hardly able to see anything except the faint outline of Furina’s face right in front of you. Her serpentine pupils widened in a sick glee as she traced your jaw with a pointed claw and leaned in to press her lips against yours. As she pulled away, you saw a faint flicker of light in her two-toned eyes before the cold, dark waters overtook your senses, and your consciousness faded from your body. The siren had gotten the only thing that she desired at last.

The lanterns flickered out again.

[icarustypicalfall]

cara mia

ALEJANDRO VARGAS X F!READER

inspired by the glorious lovers, Gomez and Morticia.

a request that i hope will succeed to mend every heart i broke because of certain angst

summary: you can't love someone more than yourself and live everyday as if it's the last.. well, certainly not according to you and your lover

warnings: none, sfw, pure fluff <3

note: im not that good at writing romance.. im an angst person but yeah that was really entertaining, doing some research and planning 🤭 tysm for your request anon, I'd love hearing from you again, tell me what you think 🫶🏻

"I've finally found you, now my life tastes sweet like cinnamon"

"I think they truly love each other, but I'm not entirely sure," Rudy chuckled at Soap's comment as they observed Alejandro and his lover, you, dancing on the crowded dance floor.

Throughout the night, you danced, kissed, and flirted, seemingly inseparable.

Los Vaqueros had organized a party to celebrate their latest mission after the tank operation. It was an ideal opportunity for Alejandro to introduce you to his brothers and new allies: Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Captain Price.

The evening had started as a simple get-together, but it quickly turned into a display of intense flirting and hours of dancing and drinks.

Rudy would often joke that Alejandro seemed to forget everyone else when he was with you. He was even distracted at the shooting range, nearly shooting one of his own men when he caught a glimpse of you passing by.

The men sitting at the table laughed, sipping their beers while keeping an eye on the couple swaying on the dance floor. "I can't believe this is the same man I used to work with. He is completely smitten with her," Rudy laughed heartily, clearly becoming more and more tipsy.

Shaking his head, he smiled. "No hermano, Alejandro and _ are not whipped. They simply love each other. They've had this connection ever since they met."

You had met Alejandro years ago, during a time when you both had to work together amidst the scandalous movements of the cartel. After a period of dating, he proposed, and within a year, you were married. Though Alejandro had some flaws, such as anger issues and work addiction, he never let that affect your relationship. Any disagreement or argument would swiftly be resolved with passionate apologies shared behind closed doors. Some never started believing in soulmates till they witnessed the Colonel and his wife dancing bachata at 2 am.

To Alejandro, you were a delicate flower, even with your own strong-willed nature. He took pleasure in watching you bark orders to incompetent recruits.

When some of his men playfully asked him whether he'll choose you over eternity.. well of course he chose you. Because, quoting him: "how could I choose a life where you are not by my side, cara mia? I'd consider it as hell itself. For me, amor, I'd rather hold you for a brief moment over any eternities."

You, on the other side, proudly showcased your love for him. The bond you shared was powerful and seemingly magical. Together, you lived for the moment, sucking the joy of life and spating out the sorrow. There wasn't any words that could describe how you feel about him.

Crazy? maybe. Deeply in love? Absolutely.

Taking a break from dancing, you volunteered to get drinks, and Alejandro made his way back to the table. A broad smile adorned his face as he glanced at you, seated closely to him, holding onto his arm. You smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he kissed your forehead and kept a protective arm around your waist.

Captain Price chuckled and patted Alejandro's back, remarking, "Well son, you never told us you were married. Rudy mentioned it before he passed out."

You glanced at Alejandro, resting your elbow on the table, cheek supported by your palm, wearing a playful smirk.

"Is that so? He didn't mention me even once? Must have been pretty busy, right, amor?"

Alejandro held your hand, gently squeezing it within his calloused palm and placing soft kisses on your fingertips.

"Just because I didn't talk about you doesn't mean you weren't on my mind, Querida. You reside there constantly, occupying every thought of mine."

"That was cheesy, Alejandro. Eres increíble!" you teased, his eyes seemed to flicker like stars shining in his dark brown orbs. He drew closer to you, his smile wide.

"You really shouldn't speak Spanish to me, amor. You know it drives me mad."

"I'd absolutely love seeing you mad, Hermoso."

The men around the table followed your conversation, enraptured by this side of Alejandro.He was unafraid to show you off, proud of your relationship and unapologetic about his love for you. In fact, if he was to be called out for loving you this much, he'd proudly wear the title. He cherished you deeply, and you had no worries about the cartel using you against him. They knew not to cross that line, for you were a protected and treasured part of Alejandro's life. God help the ones who tried to cross it, let some peace fall upon their limp bodies.

After a long night, it was almost four in the morning when you and Alejandro reached your home. In the blue hour, you both would often take a moment to witness the captivating beauty of nature while wrapped in each other's arms.

Alejandro gently tilted your chin, meeting your gaze with a smile as he whispered slurred words into your ear.

"Do you remember our honeymoon, darling?"

"Which one, amor? Every day with you feels like a honeymoon, and you're definitely giving me a sweet tooth."

"..The night after we got married," he reminisced. "When everyone had left, leaving only you and me. We sat on the balcony, with the cold wind weaving through our hair. I held you close as the sun rose."

A slight smile formed on your lips as you relived the memory. Your fingertips lingered on the burning flesh of his cheek. Closing your eyes, his words sank in the depth of your mind.

"Do you ever realize you become a poet when you're drunk?"

"Just for you, amor, I'll be anything you want, if you wanted me to get you the stars, I'll collect every piece of them, even if i died trying. But if you wanted to shove me away, I'll stick with you for eternity and beyond. You're too precious for me, cara mia"

His hand found yours, in slow movements and dizzy stares, he squeezed your palm. As if the simple mouvement was a promise, a vow for you.

"I want to recreate that moment tonight," Alejandro murmured, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Let's stay up until the sun rises again, and we can relive our love story once more."

You nodded, anticipation gleaming in your eyes. Hand in hand, you made your way to the balcony, watching as the sky transformed from dark to a palette of soft hues. Wrapped in each other's arms, you whispered sweet nothings, promising to love, support, and protect one another until the end of time.

This kind of love that almost felt irreal, you shared a deep mutual connection that none could explain, and neither of you tried.

If anything, you just loved each other. You digged and bathed in the joy, forgetting the sorrow. Was this a blessing of life, an apology for the misery your souls endured during lifetimes?

Or were you simply lucky enough of to find the missing piece of your heart?

For the matter, you both knew that this love was enough to mend your hearts, over and over again.

As the first rays of sunlight kissed your skin, Alejandro leaned in and whispered against your lips.

"Te amo, mi vida. Forever and always."

"Te amo también, mi amor. Nada ni nadie nos separará."

(can i marry him please? i stg he's perfect. sorry if it's not accurate or not what you expected. ily all 🫶🏻❤️)

[stxneflxwers]

avolition.

⋯⁂ summary. suffering from a particular problem, some days you just couldn't care less what goes on—surrendering to your mind's desire for peace.

⋯⁂ a/n. short and sweet post here; so im not really worried about small grammar errors, word count, formatting, or what have you. i've been struggling with avolition lately (in which i mean my ass is getting OBLITERATED.) and if u need more info on what avolition is, i can give a VERY quick rundown: "Avolition is a total lack of motivation that makes it hard to get anything done. You can't start or finish even simple, everyday tasks."

⋯⁂ characters. neuvillette. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. reader suffers from a disorder that has avolition (lack of motivation.) reader is going to display a lot of apathy toward life. neuvi biggest sweetheart ever, even when he's away. hurt/comfort.

neuvillette.

life isn't so easy, everyone knows this. but some days are even harder than others, to the point they pass slowly and painfully. and lately, it's felt like forever since you've managed to get through a day without too much struggle.

neuvillette quickly realizes this.

he's also doing his best to support you, even while away from home. he'll send a melusine or two to go periodically check up on you. he knows you'll forget to eat and drink otherwise.

what he didn't expect is the day when he returned from his office around dinner time, much earlier than usual.

all of the lights in the home were off, much to his surprise. usually you'd leave a light on, should have you been up and about. he hadn't sent a melusine today to check up on you around lunchtime since you told him you were feeling fine.

it finally dawns on him that what you said was possibly a lie. or maybe misguided hope? he's not really sure which it is. and to be frank, he doesn't even care which it was at the moment.

he quickly puts his things away and takes his coat off, almost haphazardly dropping it to the floor instead of hanging it up on the coat rack. his hands tremble and so do his breaths, but he does his best to remain as calm as a stormless day. even when it starts raining outside from his uptick in stress alone.

he takes big yet quiet strides to the bedroom, where he finds you still in bed—staring off into space.

he sighs in relief when he notices your steady but shallow breathing causing your body to rise and fall. why he assumed the worst is beyond him, he simply did without a second thought.

when you seemingly don't notice him, his brows furrow and his frown tightens. he's not too sure what to do or what to say. and yet again, without a second thought, he approaches you,

"my dear?" he mutters, voice on the verge of shattering under the weight of seeing you so helpless.

you don't respond. totally nonverbal.

but, at least, you glance at him—even though your eyes are lightless, he's so happy to have you acknowledge him in this moment. he smiles a little from it as he slips his arms around you, cradling you carefully. he rests his head against the flat of your chest, letting out a long sigh.

"oh, how you worry me..." he mumbles, almost sleepily, "i love you very much. but i do understand that today is harder for you. therefore, i will not scold you. nor would i at any other point." he reassures, his voice soft and sweet as one of fontaine's infamous cakes.

your lips twitch a little, threatening to break out into a smile. even your eyes soften, laden with relief. heart filling with love, you begin to feel a little bit more rejuvenated,

"i...love you too..."

[satoruzlove]

levi ++ his sweetheart s/o 💭

levi met you through a mutual friend and at first, he was absolutely not in the mood. he shrugged off every comment and killed off conversation. that was until you attempted to start a conversation up with him, gleaming smile and kind eyes that spoke a million words in silence. the scowl on his face melted away, and his previously rested eyebrows were raised in curiosity.

everyone was pretty surprised that levi took a liking to you, as you two were completely different. erwin had wiped his eyes multiple times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating when levi had given you his number willingly. the glint of affection in levi’s grey eyes as you waved him goodbye wasn’t missed, and greatly blossomed over the months.

it started when you bought him a coffee and took it over to his apartment when he mentioned that he had been working all day. you didn’t think much of it, actually wanting to do more but not having the time. levi opened his door, clad in grey comfort wear when you gave him a hug. he froze for a moment, the smell of your perfume numbing every sense he had. a hand - calloused and tired from writing- rubbed at your back. when you pulled away, your free hand rested on his shoulder as you handed him his coffee.

“ you didn’t need to do this, you know,” he hummed, brewing you some tea. you smiled at him, fingers clasping a cushion, “ i wanted to, even you need to be checked on y’know,” you reply. levi feels an odd flutter in his chest, a slight comfort in him knowing that he has someone. and that someone was you.

as time went by levi found himself hacking away at the walls he built up for everyone. the little voice in his head telling him that trust is weak had become nothing but a annual whisper- but was no match for your kind heart and reassurance. levi ackerman was loved for the first time in a very long time.

the way you sweetly say his name and remember everything he tells you, the silent gazes of affection, the intimate time you spend together means the world and more to him. levi holds an undeniable value for you, tucked into his heart and intertwined with every cell in his body.

when you confessed his cheeks are warm, red and almost hurting from laughing at your horrible jokes. you sat in his living room, on the floor of course. alcohol in both of your systems- levi pulls you close. close enough to hear the beat of his heart and feel his skin connect with yours. close enough to not just hear his words, but listen to them. understand them. feel them in your soul.

“ can i tell you a secret ?” he asks, voice husky but smooth, thick with the influence. you nod. “ well, i love you lots , y’know?“ and at his tone you giggle, your arm finding his strong shoulder for support. he smiles at you, your melodic laughter was beautiful. “im serious, im serious!” he proclaims, hands finding your cheeks. “ i love you, yn,” he repeats.

“not that dumb love people have when they like how someone makes them feel , ‘cause they have big ass egos. i love you because,” he’s rambling slightly, but the twinkle in your eyes fuels him, “ because you’re so sweet. i love that about you. you just keep giving even when you don’t need to and it’s gorgeous to watch,” and as his hands move from your cheeks to your hands, he pauses. and places a little kiss on your head ,

“i love you, a million times and for a million, no, a trillion different reasons .”

[tetzoro]

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓶𝔂 𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 :

- 𝓖𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 : 𝓝𝓮𝓼𝓲 & 𝓘𝔀𝓪𝓲𝔃𝓾𝓶𝓲

- 𝓛𝓸𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 : 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮

the first dance was beautiful, a song you had heard a million times as the bride kept playing it for you anytime you two found yourselves planning for this day. but it never sounded as sweet as it does right now as you watch the groom spin the bride around, giggling at each other like they were the only ones in the world.

iwaizumi had his arm wrapped securely around your waist as he watched, a small smile on his face. kenma stood on the other side of you, watching his best friend have the happiest day of his life.

“i still can’t believe they eloped.” you shake your head softly to the two men beside you. 

“i can.” kenma scoffs softly. “they’re ridiculous.”

“yeah.” you smile and he can’t help but let out a little grin too at his best friend's antics. “you’re still sworn to secrecy, haj.”

“who am i gonna tell?” he gave you a look before it melted into a smile. almost too soon, the song ended and everyone erupted into applause. kuroo beamed at the bride as the next song started to play, already twirling her around to the tune of the melody.  “may i have this dance?”

iwaizumi turned slightly, holding his hand out with a small blush on his face that spread to the tip of his ears. even after being married all this time, you never failed to make the man flustered.

“of course.” you take his hand, casting a departing look back at kenma. 

it was easy to get swept up with iwaizumi. the man never prided himself in being the best dancer but the way you two moved together in sync and harmony would have anyone thinking otherwise.

after the song played out, a new one came on. the same one from your own wedding day with him. you look at each other in a delighted surprise. your attention quickly landing on the bride who only casts you a wink before her attention is set back onto kuroo.

“it’s our song.” iwaizumi murmured, pulling you impossibly close. normally, he didn’t favor PDA but it was like you were transported back to your own wedding night, when you two danced across the floor to the soft melody.

as you danced, he leaned into you, humming the lyrics. his grip around your waist tightened. nostalgia flooded your mind, thinking back on all the amazing memories you’ve shared with this man and the excitement of all the ones to come.

iwaizumi continued to hum, his lips pressing against your cheek before trailing down your jaw.

“can’t stop thinking about our wedding night.” iwaizumi murmurs into your skin. you can feel how warm his face is as it presses into the crook of your neck. you look around the dancefloor and see that everyone is in their own little world, just like him. the song keeps playing and iwaizumi loses himself in it – in you. 

“maybe we can recreate what we did after you pulled the garter off my thigh.” you suggest, tone low and seductive enough for his whole body to tremble before pulling back with a wicked look in his eye. without another word and before the song even finishes, he grabs your hand and heads to the nearest closet. 

꒰ 💌 ꒱ — dearest nesi besi friendo.

the way this wedding (event) would not have happened without you ! thank you for always supporting me and holding my hand through it all hehe. i adore you endlessly and im so happy you and iwa could make the special day :’) but try not to be gone for too long, please. need my maid of honor to help me stay in check !! i love you sm !!! @keeper-of-my-heart ᰔ

with love, aims + tetsu ᰔ

[beesmygod]

What would you say is a good goal checklist for someone trying to move out from a restrictive homelife with their parents in the middle of the woods in Connecticut to a place with at least more interesting people and things to do? I have a bit of money saved up but I don’t have a real desire to live in a specific area, just anywhere but here. Dont have a reliable support network, i just bounce off most internet communities. Asking for advice because I envy your independence

thats a very sweet thing to say when i feel pretty pathetic lately lol.

i think it might be difficult because of how expensive and fucked up everything is right now, so much of my advice from 10 years ago may no longer apply :(

im a pathological worrier so i would try to have a lot of ducks lined up before i left so that i can acclimate to a new environment without the stress of having to burn through my savings. i would move somewhere within driving distance (even if that means staying there overnight or whatever) where you can see your living space for yourself (these zoom tours are huge bullshit lol) before you move. try to move near or with people you know. i got lucky in that my roommate experience was largely positive overall and taught me a lot. but if you dont want that, i would try to move somewhere where someone (a friend or trusted family) can check up on you if something happens. try to see the apartment later in the afternoon after school is out to see how loud the local kids are and if you can hear them through the walls lol

this area of the east coast seems pretty pleasant and the services are better than the majority of the country, so sticking around here wouldnt be a bad idea. i would file for any and all state benefits you qualify for ahead of time after you get an address so that when you have to fight with them about it it only takes one month instead of two lol. try to put 10% of you paycheck aside every month for savings and put it in an actual savings account. try and find a credit union if you can.

get on medicaid if you can and get a physical with the clinic that is going to be "your clinic" from now on. same thing with getting your teeth cleaned. same with behavioral health if you need it. there might be waiting lists to call early bc they dont get any shorter.

then i would start trying to get a job lined up. benefits can help tremendously in case its tough out there in the job market and it takes longer than you thought. once you move, take a few walks to figure out the "mood" of your neighborhood lol. i dont know how to describe this. but it will help you pick up on any local social mores or customs (that sounds too dramatic) or just the vibe of the area.

uuuh im trying to think of other things. the most indulgent advice i can give is hire movers every single time if you can afford it. be ready for them to be late. i never ever want to move ever again in my life i HATE the process of moving. i would walk over broken glass on the rim of a volcano if it meant other people would move boxes for me up and down stairs.

oh shit thats right. ok this is a matter of preference but remember these basic things when picking out an apartment:

do not get a ground floor apartment. thats only if you want to get randomly murdered or creeped on. also everyone who walks by will look into your apartment bc thats just human nature.

all of my apartments were on the top floor (2 or 3) which meant no noise from above. i loved this. but YOU must be the quiet one now.

the higher up the apartment the further you have to walk to take the trash down to the dumpster in snowstorms

i hope all of this helps. my restrictive family wanted to be introduced to my roommates ahead of time which was a little embarrassing but understandable as i was moving in with 3 men. when they immediately realized they were dorks, their hearts were at ease. your family may be the same (maybe) and if your roommates are up for it you can use it as a bargaining chip.

[chanstopher]

Dear friends, just a note to say... dress warmly, eat well, stay safe and sound, keep smiling, I’m always there for you. 

2022 was a really great year for me on here, I’ve made more friends than i ever could have expected, and had so many wonderful interactions with people in my askbox and beyond. Stray kids have brought me so much joy, only amplified by the kindness I have received from all of you. I am so grateful for all you have given me, especially the love and support you have shared. I feel so privileged to be a part of such a kind, safe, space. I love creating for stray kids, and especially for chris, it brings me so much peace and joy in my life and I’m thankful to everyone here for giving me the opportunity to be absolutely insane over him.

@lonelystreetlight the loml (behind chris and jeongin and minho and jisung and cha- you know where you stand) my bestest friend my otp to age our friendship 😌 i love you and i miss you so much you’ve helped me more than anyone could ever understand and i’m forever trying to draw enough jisungs to repay that 🍕

@brianbangs amazing how we proved science wrong by being actual twins while never having met 🤔 truly immaculate of us. thank you for being the most unhinged person in the world with me about that one guy we’re both disgusted by. and for being the sunshine and rainbows to my lil storm cloud of a being. i know our friendship is still so young (how have we not known each other for decades?) it’s so important and special to me. i love you very much the ashley to my mary kate 

@quokki oh my wife i love you so much. you are so talented and fun and amazing. i love getting to watch your art style evolve into the super cool style it’s become. i get to look at that immaculate chris every day and be so floored that you made it just for me 🥺 thank you for being my friend, it really means the world to me

@nevoono god you are so special to me nev, i am so happy you live in safe my little phone making the cutest and funniest art in the world. and that you’re constantly giving me these perfect icons and thinking of me 🥹 i love you so so much you’re the sweetest person ever i’m so happy you’ll always be my first stayblr friend 🖤

@decembermoonskz oh izzy my angel i love you so much, you’ve truly made my entire stayblr experience a million times better, i love talking to you and hearing about how you’re doing and i’m always here keeping you in my thoughts and hoping the world is treating you like the ball of sunshine you are to me and everyone lucky enough to know you

@ the stayblr discord there are a million of you i cannot be bothered to try and tag everyone, but thank you for all the amazing love and support this year, literally could not have gotten through it without you. i love you and i promise i’ll try to be more active 😔

@ my anons my sweet little garden of anons that come to visit me i appreciate you so much, i feel so lucky to have each one of you coming to spend time with me, to share things with me! you’re all so very special to me 

and last but not least to all my mutuals and followers, you mean the world to me, i would be nothing without all the support i get in the tags you give me. there are so many ppl on here that i’m too shy to talk to but i adore i wish i could befriend each one of you like you deserve. thank you for being here and loving chris and skz with me 🥹🖤🤍

Signed

Dreamy

ps if you get the reference from the beginning im kissing you on the forehead hehe

[malka-lisitsa]

❛ Tell me about her? ❜

"Tell you about EleNUH Gilbert huh?" Did you catch the slight lip curl?

"For starters shes Americas most self-righteous doppelganger. She loves to play the victim and her endless supply of sweetness and compassion only applies to the people she deems worthy or has an interest in." Katherine all but spat.

"She acts all high and mighty like her reaction to Klaus' plans were some how more morally correct than mine without ever considering her massive network of support verses the fact that I had none. She only knew what to expect because I crawled bloody across the forest floor so she could run straight into the blender."

"Elena has people tripping over her projecting their feelings for me onto her white board personality that's flatter than her hair. While the people that wish she was me turn around and condemn me for surviving. They blame me for things I didnt do or had no other choice in- while the same people have murdered for fun. My body count is remarkably low for a vampire my age and its lower than both of theirs. Yet I am the devil of mystic falls. Im the unforgivable one.

Little miss Gilbert is the perfect princess, everyones little angel. All because her life, compared to mine even with all her tragic losses- is a CAKE WALK."

[crescentmoon-flower]

Rewatching winx season 4 for nostalgia and realizing how wierd some things are

Ep. 7

Musa posing like the drama queen she is

How did Stella drag roxy upwards like that

"I'm a great shot" im sure you are

Stella darling you managed to contradict yourself

Musa your great, and I wish you kept these spells

Nevermind then musa is useless

Stella contradicting herself again

Oh poor doggy, also I would react the same to someone hurting my baby

Oh wow roxy is strong

Awww, tiny kitten

Flora and anagan flirting, its actually kinda cute

What the hell even is gantlos's power

Aw, sweet old rich woman

And gantlos found them

Yeah that car crash is about right

Also for a second I thought the woman was going to help roxy

Sassy gantlos

Oh wow that was a close one

Wow artu is smart, I wonder is that's a side effect of being around roxy

Spirit speech

Oh poor artu

Oh that's a close one part 2

First magic!

What exactly did roxy do though?

Sudden upbeat Music

Well that's a tone shift

Weren't they all just on the floor in the last frame?

Specialist deus ex machina

Nabu speaks really wierd sometimes

Oh my god Rivington chopped duman's hair XD

Did they just corner ogron and leave the others?

Awww, supportive timmy

Wow aisha is in a great mood.

I... don't thing implicitly is the word your looking for

Naaaawwwww

Liesssssss, you'll end up with more

HAHA, flora and aisha's reactions are great

Wait...... Didn't timmy already have a job?? Did he quit to be around roxy more? Or is he doing both?

How did he go from helia to Tobias? The others are similar but helia?

BOO-BOO XD

Oh okay nevermind

Oh my god, the one who doesn't work there is the only one he got right

As a only child and a girl, I feel you roxy

Ooooooohhhhh, musa

Bloom my god

Hey its that girl who everyone thought is the last fairy

Swimsuits?ok

Animation mistake roxy's sleeves

Spend the whole day talking to the neighbours canary?

Ok at least faragonda is kept in the loop

The fairy pets are adorable but useless

A yes, mcguffin wings bearly used

Guide book? What guide book?

What's with the sudden change of heart about keeping things secret

Why doesn't morgana just tell roxy who she is?

Ep 8

Pointless fluff

Oh kiko

More pointless fairy pet things

Didn't tecna explain the website several times now.

Finally common sense for stupid romance problems

Convenient timing

Did roxy sleep the entire day?

Ok the whole pictures arrange themselves in the same way

Cowboy outfits, actually one of my faves

Kind of worry roxy had a bother reaction to magic wardrobe change

Oh the Stella silent treatment

Ok from experience no large camper or bus like that has 4wheel drive

Suddenly I remember that the driver in world of winx was also aisha

I'd love to go there on horseback

Dramatic duman

Sadly irrelevant to the conversation flora

Don't like this man

Oh no this is going to be a disaster

Snort* flying bear

Seriously what are gantlos's powers?

Wait they can miniaturise what not in enchantix?

Smoke them out, smart

Gantlos is my reaction to

Did the circle burn him or just hurt?

Well that's awsome

Oh my god that man is dedicated to not noticing shit

That smile is creepy

Isn't this man a lumberjack? How is he going to survive now?

Why does bloom get to keep the circle?

And their back

Pets aren't typically allowed at bars

Pointless pet fluff

Nabu forshadowing

Aww tecna is emoting so much, I'm proud!

Damn this all, more mitzie

...well she had a good singing voice

He has work, stella

He's going to break that guitar

More nabu foreshadowing

Creepy surfer man

For a really important episode it feels like 70 percent is pointless

[sugoi-writes]

FUCK. I WROTE PART NINE AND HAD IT ALL READY TO GO AND THEN MY KID GOT HER HANDS ON MY PHONE AND CLOSED THE APP. THANK LUCIFER I HAD THE FIRST HALF SAVED AS A DRAFT BUT STILL. OTL sending this separate because I was paranoid she'd do it again and I would have to write the second part a third time 😭 also realizing I forgot to put my sig at the bottom of Pt.9

..... Annnnd of course, after pressing send I remember that I forgot to rewrite the part where reader chokes Alastor when they cum. just shoot me holy motherfucking shit

At some point I'mma just make these into a full blown PWP fic. It seems like they get longer with each installment 🤣 (I'm sorry btw, I always feel kinda bad whenever I leave long messages in anyone's inbox 😫

AYEEEE WELL YA KNOW WHAT THEY SAY - GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE!! 😘❤️‍🔥

It's a fitting pet name Hunny Pun! You're the queen of puns and you're so so SO sweet like a Honey Bun! is that icing or Alastor's jizz on you??? ... im so sorry i'll see myself out again 😭 CAN'T FIND AND KISS ME IF I FIND AND KISS YOU FIRST BABES~! ❤️❤️❤️

I can't hold on to my anonymity anymore guys so I'mma be making Pt.10 my reveal post~ it's killing me that I can't leave rabid fangirl messages on your works like you all do here for me! I really did wanna wait until I got the Smutmus Holy Trinity complete or at least in the revision stages but just- GAH! I NEED YALL TO KNOW HOW AMAZING I THINK YOU ARE. Beautiful beautiful minds, inside and out i can't even-!

Seriously though, I can't even begin to express how grateful and happy I am to have met any of you! And there are no words in the English dictionary (or any at all really) that I could use to describe what I feel about how accepting and supportive you've been! I could NEVER thank yall enough for helping me to find the joy in writing again. I love all three of you so much and I'm honored to call you friends!! 🥺🥰💋

- ☄️❤️ Smut Santa

False Alarm for the Next Part!! And honestly, thank God, the vibe is still not charged HAH--

Oh no!!! I'm so sorry that happened to you!! I had a similar experience when writing my part 2 to my Nun! Alastor fic. Fun fact: had to re-write it 5 times because I kept forgetting to save it. ;;_;; hhhh my baby fever is so bad I'm crying, but man, KIDS! What a little stinker 🥹❤️

Also, my ask box is usually super empty? Like, you could LICK the floor with how neat and empty it is? I LOVE messages? Even better if they long like Alastor's girthy fucking co--

We--We were- when we??? ALASTOR GETS--??? MY HANDS AROUND HIS???

*Danny.Exe has experienced an Error*

*Rebooting*

OKAY IM BACK--

☄️❤️Anon... babycakes. At this rate I'm gonna do more than fucking kiss you. I think we're past that now. And if you keep calling me 'Hunny Pun', or similar pet names, I'm just gonna jump your bones--

Hug you!!!! I meant hug you!!!

It's Alastor's jizz. It's canon-- NO DONT LEAVE I NEED TO KNOW HOW I GOT IT ON MY FAAAAAAACE

GUYS CODE TREAT, CODE TREAT, THE ANON VEIL IS DROPPING!!! ITS DROPPING DHDHDJDHDJ-- You will never gain a mutual as fast as you will then I SWEAR

☄️❤️!!! Smut Santaaaaa! 🥹😭❤️ Your mind is a beautiful, smutty, enchanting place!!! Knowing that you've been religiously cranking this out, while also having a kiddo... Seriously, how do you do it??? If anyone deserves the praise rn, 🎵it's you??? It's you, ITS ALWAYS YOU!!🎵 ❤️❤️❤️

Don't push yourself too hard! Please? ❤️ I will treasure these rare, scrumptious little treats for as long as I have brain cells left ❤️ I will call you friend until you tell me to quit or I lose my voice for good. And even then, my lips will keep moving and repeating the same thing until I'm blue in the face. ❤️❤️❤️ you are such a sweet, sweet, soul, and I can feel your vibes, and they are so wholesome! I can't wait to meet the person or sexual fiend behind it all! I feel like I speak for us all, and not just the main 3, but EVERYONE: everyone who has read your posts love you to bits. And they love your work to bits. Best believe when you publish your first work, we'll be there. En masse. And we will be EAGERLY returning the love you surprised us with.

Thank you for all that you do. On this post in particular, you deserve a foot rub, a forehead kiss, and a hug that lifts and spins you off your feet! 💗💗💗

Have a blissful, best of days you can have, dear! You deserve it! 💗