#it’s in the knowledge of knowing he’s suffering okay

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I love non sequiturs. They’re wonderful.

Others may say that they’re a clunky way to awkwardly change the subject—that they’re inelegant and fail every stealth check possible, but really?

They’re a blunt, hardedge way of saying “no I’m done talking about this topic anymore and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

They’re just such a power move honestly.

Have you ever looked an angry 6ft something man in the eye and said, “There’s a species of single celled organisms that live in almost uninhabitable lakes and has seven genders,” and just watched as befuddlement crosses his face and he then experiences the five stages of grief in five seconds because he knows he’s now going to have to listen to me explain polyploids in excruciating detail once more because I deemed him to be an asshole.

It’s so satisfying.

[sunderwight]

Thinking about what if SJ had left the Qiu manor a little earlier (some other final straw breaks the camel's back sooner), and actually manages to get a lead on YQ and follows it to Cang Qiong Mountain while YQ is in the thick of his "locked suffering in a cave" arc.

SJ arrives and is immediately struck by the needle-in-a-haystack-ness of the situation. The population of all the peaks put together is huge, and he has no clout to leverage, no reason to get people to care what he's there for and a strong reluctance to tip his hand about... basically anything. Even totally earnest intentions to find his childhood friend.

So SJ skips the usual disciple trials (none are being held at the time he arrives anyway) and just steals a disciple uniform for An Ding. An Ding has a lot of outer disciples. SJ doesn't even know which peak it is, he just sees the place that has the most faceless/nameless lackeys doing grunt work and goes okay, I bet they don't always know all their own by name and face, and he's correct.

The bluff works hilariously well. When he gets back to An Ding with his "fellow" disciples he just finds an unused storage room to sleep in, and even when he gets sort-of caught out at it the shixiong who catches him just bemoans the hazing/bullying on the peaks. When SJ establishes that he's fine sleeping in the store room, Shang-shixiong even bribes him to keep his mouth shut about the "bullying epidemic" by giving him a proper cot and blankets to use. So SJ doesn't even have to deal with being in a dorm.

He multitasks actually learning what cultivation he can from the other An Ding disciples and masters, and investigating all the other latest arrivals to the peaks. It isn't long before Shang-shixiong spills the beans about the rising star of Qiong Ding Peak, who came from apparently nowhere during the selection trials, matches Yue Qi's description, has the same surname, and disappeared mysteriously a few weeks ago.

Shen Jiu's gut twists around at word of the disappearance. He is all too aware of the kinds of things it usually means when handsome, talented boys with no family or backing just disappear mysteriously all of a sudden. He's heard things about the sort of uses cultivators have for people with a lot of raw talent and not a lot of knowledge or protection, too. Qiu Jianluo used to make it a point to explain exactly what SJ's cultivation talents could be used for (cauldron stuff), both as a threat and also as a warning against him trying to go outside and find a master. Even Yue Qi had sort of tried to warn him, in his own way, by demanding SJ always keep it a secret.

Yue Qi might have believed that the righteous cultivators in an official sect wouldn't stoop to such dirty, underhanded methods, and might have thought he was safe here. SJ holds no such optimistic illusions. The An Ding peak lord give every impression of the same kind of sycophantic public servants who used to take kickbacks from wealthier families in his home city, and even only glimpsed at a distance, the sect leader gives him the creeps.

Anyway, SJ eventually figures out that something is up with the Ling Xi caves, goes down and finds a sealed-off cavern with just a few cracks he can peer through. Cue reversal of the last time he saw Yue Qi, with the older boy now being the one locked away by a cruel master, and SJ having to whisper reassurances and promises of rescue.

[rcmclachlan]

He shoves his feet into his sneakers and then double checks that he has everything: keys, wallet, an old Trader Joe's bag filled with a lemon-blueberry pie, two almond-cranberry loaves, a bunch of cream puffs, ice cream bread, a fruitcake, and a cheese danish almost as big as the circumference of the bag opening, plus the stupid cue cards he spent an hour writing out.

Exhaling, Buck glances at his watch. 11:09pm. That gives him about 35 minutes to get to South Robertson, 10 minutes to hyperventilate in the Jeep, three minutes to do the most humiliating thing he's ever dreamed of doing, and one minute to hopefully ring in the new year before it officially starts.

The plan is foolproof, it's Chimney approved, and it's the only one he's got. He can't spend another two months baking and staring at his phone hoping to see bubbles dancing. And not just because none of the grocery stores within a ten mile radius of the loft will sell him small batch vanilla extract anymore.

He can't spend another two months feeling like he's suffering from something that Hen would normally use the LifePak to fix. Which is why this is going to work. It has to. Because he can't think about what the next year is going to be like if it doesn't.

"Okay," Buck murmurs, nodding to himself. "It's go time."

Slipping the bag handles over his wrist and tucking the cards under his arm, he pulls the door open and walks right into a brick wall.

"Shit, I'm sorry," the wall says, steadying Buck with big, familiar hands, then bends down to pick up the cards that had spilled to the floor. "I wouldn't have been standing there if I'd known you were gonna fly out like the place was on fire."

It's been a while since Buck's felt this wrong-footed—two months, to be exact—and that's the only reason why he opens his mouth and "You ruined my plan!" falls out.

Tommy looks up from the cue cards with a disbelieving smile. It's the same one that had spread across his face after bad coffee and a plea for a second chance. You already know I'm interested. "Were you going to Love, Actually me?"

He turns the cards in his hands and shows the top one to Buck. It says To me, you are perfect an asshole (but I want you anyway).

Buck puts down the Trader Joe's bag and gives himself a minute to drink Tommy in. He looks good, if wan. The bags under his eyes are new, but the way he curls his shoulders in, like he's trying to make himself smaller, turn himself into a smaller target, takes Buck right back to the last time Tommy was here.

"I-In my defense, Chimney thought it was a stroke of genius," Buck grouses. "Although I'm starting to suspect that he was just giving me shit."

Genuine amusement makes hills and valleys out of the corners of Tommy's eyes, and the way the sight of them makes something unknot inside of Buck feels like muscle memory. He used to wish that his own crow's feet were that pronounced; it always seemed like Tommy's were a mark of a life spent smiling. But even the knowledge that many of those smiles weren't real can't stop Buck from being charmed.

With shaking hands, Buck takes the cue cards from Tommy, who seems a little reluctant to let them go, and absolutely doesn't clutch them to his chest like a shield.

"What are you doing here?"

Tommy scratches at his forearm, a little tic that draws Buck's eye, and because of it he almost doesn't see the tremor in Tommy's bottom lip when he breathes out shakily and says, "I was on shift today, and Nico asked everyone what their New Year's resolutions were. I didn't have one. I never do. It's not something I ever—just getting through the year intact has always been my goal. You really can't call that a resolution."

Buck can't help but give a mystified nod, because he has no idea where this is going, but he honestly doesn't care. Tommy's here. He's here.

"But I couldn't stop thinking about it," Tommy continues, and the laugh he chokes out sounds like it scores the inside of his throat on its way out. "Tonight I had a little kid code in the back of my bird on the way to First Pres, and all I could think about was what my resolution would be if I had one."

"D-Did the kid make it?"

"No," Tommy sighs. "No, he didn't. And I sat on the roof of the hospital for, like, twenty minutes sobbing like a baby, because all I wanted was to hear the sound of your voice. I just wanted to call you and I wouldn't let myself."

The image of Tommy crying alone in a cockpit and denying himself even a little bit of comfort hits Buck like a sucker punch. "W-Why didn't you?"

"I was scared," Tommy admits with a smile that hurts to look at. The corners of his eyes crease anyway. "I was shit scared that I'd call and you'd, I don't know, tell me to go fuck myself, or tell me that I did you a favor by breaking things off. Or worse: the call wouldn't go through at all, because you'd blocked me. You had every right to do any of those things, but... I was too afraid to find out what it'd be. So I didn't."

The prickling heat in the corners of Buck's eyes and in his sinuses feels like a warning. He clears his throat, trying to head it off at the pass, but his eyes feel too wet to safely blink.

"But then why are you—"

"I was on my way home when it hit me out of nowhere: my resolution. Forty-something years and I finally had one."

Heart pounding, Buck takes a step forward and ventures, breathless, "Which was...?"

"My resolution was to be brave for once in my life." Tommy's nose scrunches like he's holding in a laugh, but his eyes look suspiciously glassy. "And suddenly I was parked outside your building."

"Y-You got a space?"

Tommy laughs wetly. "Believe it or not, it was the same one I got that night. And as I pulled in, I thought, 'See that, Kinard? Even the universe is telling you to stop being such a fucking coward.'"

"Your resolution is to be brave," Buck echoes, and just saying it feels like standing at the edge of a canyon and being unable to judge the distance from one side to the other because of the sun in his eyes. "T-That's a good one. We could all stand to be a bit braver this year."

Swallowing, Tommy shakes his head, but before Buck can flirt with the notion of a breakdown, he steps closer. Enough that Buck can count his individual lashes; enough to see the fear in his eyes, as well as the determination holding it at bay.

"I'm no expert, but I hear the best resolutions are the ones where there's someone to hold you to them." He stares into Buck's eyes as he talks but, with every other word, his gaze dips lower.

"I've made and broken a million resolutions in my life. I think that makes me an expert," Buck murmurs. "And yeah, having someone hold you accountable is the key to keeping them."

"I've still got—" Tommy glances down at his watch. "—forty-one minutes. Maybe I should wait until midnight, make it a clean start. What's your expert opinion on—"

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off when Buck drops the cue cards to the floor and presses his entire body into Tommy's. He hopes Tommy can feel every single vibration coming from his bones.

Whether or not he does is anyone's guess, but Tommy doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around Buck, sliding a hand up his back to cup the base of his skull, gasping a little in the space between their mouths when Buck rests his forehead against Tommy's. He's shaking even harder than Buck, but his hold is steadfast.

"I'm going to nail your ass to the wall if you break this resolution," Buck whispers.

"I'm counting on it," Tommy whispers back. "In the meantime, you should show me the cue cards. This is literally a fantasy of mine."

Snorting, Buck bites playfully at the bolt of his jaw, and tries not to go completely boneless in relief. "I'm so glad you fucked up my plan. That movie is so bad, Tommy, and I had to re-watch that stupid scene a hundred times to get the cue cards right. You don't deserve them."

"Say 'it's carol singers,'" Tommy nuzzles at his cheek. "Just once. I've been incredibly brave tonight and I deserve something."

"Suffer," Buck laughs, and kisses him into next year.

[sincerelybubbles]

s. reid x fem!reader \\ sleepless

Spencer, running on approximately three hours of sleep and an unsettling amount of caffeine, goes on an unprompted tangent at 3 A.M.

She stirs, blinking blearily at the clock on the nightstand. 3:12 A.M.

A groan drags from her throat as she burrows deeper into the pillows. "Spencer, why are you awake?"

There’s a pause. A brief, deceptive moment of silence.

And then, from the other side of the bed—

"Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?"

She exhales slowly, pressing her face into the mattress as if she can physically escape the conversation. "Spencer."

"And that when they sleep, they sometimes change colors, which suggests they might be capable of dreaming? Isn’t that amazing?"

She forces her eyes open and rolls onto her side, peering at him through the dim light. He’s lying on his back, eyes wide and unblinking, his hands gesturing subtly even as he speaks, the restless energy of his thoughts spilling out into movement.

"Spence," she murmurs, rubbing at her face. "Go to sleep."

"I can't," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I accidentally drank an espresso at 11 P.M. and now I’m thinking about cephalopods."

She inhales deeply, stares at the ceiling. "Of course you are."

Silence, for a beat. A pause, just long enough for her to think—maybe, maybe—he's done.

And then—

"Also, sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins."

She lets out a low, suffering noise and grabs the nearest pillow. With what little energy she can muster, she lobs it at him. It lands with a soft thump against his chest.

He catches it, startled, before shifting onto his side to face her, grinning through the darkness. "That wasn’t very nice."

"You waking me up to talk about sloths wasn’t very nice," she counters, voice muffled against the blankets.

Another beat of silence.

And then, quieter—she can practically hear him fighting the urge—

"Did you also know that sea otters have a special pocket in their armpits where they keep their favorite rocks?"

She groans, reaching blindly for another pillow. He’s already laughing before she even throws it, a soft, breathy sound that makes it difficult to stay annoyed, even at this ungodly hour.

The pillow misses. Barely. He shifts just in time, and it flops uselessly against the mattress instead of hitting its mark.

"Okay, okay," he says, hands raised in surrender, but his voice is still full of barely contained amusement. "I’ll stop."

She eyes him suspiciously, one hand hovering over the remaining pillow in silent warning. "You sure?"

A pause.

Then, far too innocently—"Did you know that wombat poop is cube-shaped?"

A frustrated noise tears from her throat as she abandons her pillow strategy entirely, rolling over to shove at his shoulder. "Spencer!"

He laughs again, unrepentant, and somehow, she finds herself smiling despite her exhaustion. It’s hard not to, when he’s like this—giddy from lack of sleep, running entirely on caffeine and the endless stream of knowledge constantly bouncing around his brain.

She sighs, dragging a hand down her face before opening her arms. "C’mere, genius."

Spencer stills. Blinks at her. "What?"

She gestures, barely suppressing another yawn. "Come here. Lay down."

There’s a moment of hesitation, like he’s trying to figure out if this is some kind of trap. But eventually, he shifts, sliding closer, tucking himself against her. She guides his head to her chest, fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in slow, rhythmic motions.

He melts almost instantly. The tension in his body eases, and the weight of him against her is warm, solid. His breathing evens out, slower, deeper.

"Feels nice," he mumbles, voice already thick with impending sleep.

"Mm," she hums, still stroking his hair. "Good. Now shut up and go to sleep."

A beat of silence. Then, so faint she almost doesn’t catch it—

"…Did you also know that ducks can put half their brain to sleep while the other half stays awake—?"

She tugs lightly at his hair in warning.

He lets out a drowsy chuckle. "Okay, okay. I’m done."

She waits. One second. Two. Three.

And then, finally—Spencer sighs, shifts a little closer, and lets himself drift.

[22ayla21]

Hello:3 I've been loving your sick fic with mydei and phainon and I've been wondering if you could write one where their muse got injured in battle?

Injury

The reaction of the men of Amphoreus when their beloved is injured

• No matter how much shock he suffered, Mydei would not let himself lose control. He would instantly assess her condition, determine how serious the wound was, and order her to be taken to safety or to healers. If he had to, he would carry her himself, ignoring everything else.

• Whoever dared to harm her made the biggest mistake of their life. Mydei is not just angry - he becomes a hurricane of destruction. Cold rage gives way to action: enemies will be destroyed quickly, without unnecessary words, without regrets. If anyone else stands in the way, they will suffer the same fate.

• No matter how cruel he is to his enemies, he is different next to her. Even if his hands are still bloody, he gently touches her face, looks into her eyes and says something short but firm: “I am here. Everything will be fine.” These are not just words - this is a promise.

• If he failed to prevent her from getting hurt, deep down he will be tormented by guilt. He will replay the situation over and over again, thinking about what he could have done differently. But he will not say it out loud. Instead, he will be there, will do everything to make her get better, and will not allow it to happen again in the future.

• After this incident, his caution will double. He will become even more attentive, even more in control of the situation. He may even overdo it sometimes, forgetting that she is not just a victim, but his equal. But this is not because of mistrust - it is because of the fear of losing her again. If she tries to convince him that everything is okay, he will grit his teeth, accept her words, but anxiety will still remain inside. Because for Mydei, she is the most precious thing in his life. And if someone risks repeating this mistake... he will not leave even ashes.

• On the outside, he would look absolutely cold-blooded, his voice even, his movements precise, but his eyes would betray hidden rage and anxiety. He did not like to show emotions, but at this moment his mind was working at its limit.

• Even if there is chaos around, he will instantly organize a rescue operation. If there are healers nearby, he will force them to act immediately, if not, he will use all his knowledge to minimize the damage in order to help her, his beloved.

• Sarcasm as a way to cope with emotions. While treating her wound, he can say something like: "Are you seriously considering testing what it is like to be a subject of a survival study? I'm sorry, this is bad methodology."

• If someone dared to harm her, he will not forget. And he will not forgive. Whether he is a knower or not, but he is not a person who allows you to play with what is dear to him. He will take out his rifle without thinking.

• He may stand in front of her even if she insists she can handle it herself. “Even if you can protect yourself, I’d rather you didn’t. Leave it to me.”

• Once she’s better, he’ll make changes to their lives. More threat analysis, more precautions. “You’re smart, but apparently not smart enough to avoid getting hurt. So I have to be smarter for both of us,” but when they’re alone, he’ll look at her with a seriousness that borders on tenderness: “If you ever decide to scare me like that again… at least let me know in advance.”

• He may freeze for the first few seconds, but only for a moment. His eyes will flash with worry, but his face will remain cool. Everything inside him is turning over, but he will not allow himself to panic. He must act. He must help her.

• Phainon acts quickly and precisely - he either provides first aid himself or immediately carries her to the healers, not paying attention to those around him. If someone tries to stop him, he simply ignores them or abruptly pushes them away. Only she is important now.

• If the wound is inflicted by someone, then this becomes their sentence. Phainon may not say anything yet, but his gaze is grimly determined - he will remember the culprit and deal with this issue later. But first - her safety.

• When she is safe, he finally allows himself to relax a little. But instead of relief, he feels anger - at himself, at the situation, at the world that allowed her to suffer. He sits silently next to her, his fingers squeezing her palm, as if he is afraid that she will disappear. He won't say out loud how worried he was, but his fingers gently glide over the bandages, checking how serious the wound is. He doesn't want to press on her, but his touch will give away more than words. In this moment, it's as if he remembers that she is here, that she is alive.

• Even if he understands that he could not have prevented her from being injured, he will still blame himself. Phainon will look for ways to make sure this does not happen again - to strengthen his guard, to teach her protection, to keep her close. He does not want to see her blood anymore. And even after she recovers, he will sleep restlessly. He will dream of the moments when she was injured, and he will feel that cold inside again. Sometimes he will wake up and just look at her, checking that she is near, that she is breathing.

• Phainon will not say it out loud, but deep down he swears: no one will hurt her again. If for this he has to change the course of fate - he will do it. He is the one who rarely shows his emotions, but if his beloved is hurt, his care and concern become almost tangible. He always stays close, and his presence is a promise: he will not allow this to happen again.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- when you're injured

SCOUPS:

he's speeding you to the hospital no matter how small the injury is. will lowkey make a big deal out of something as tiny as a cut. scolds you for not telling him sooner and for putting yourself in harms way. coddles you once you're home, refusing to let you touch a single piece of housework. he'll mother hen over you for at least a couple days before he accepts you're ready to be independent once again.

JEONGHAN:

laughs. (im so sorry) he will 100% start cackling first before he asks if you're okay. makes fun of you as he takes care of you and reenacts the moment for your viewing pleasure. scolds you for being so clumsy and will baby you as you recover.

JOSHUA:

the type of immediately jump into action. the moment you cry out in pain or he sees you falling, he's by your side as if he's teleported. holds you as he checks your injury, fussing over it and asking if you need to go to the hospital. will take you anyways even if you say no. holds your hand the whole time. tells you to be more careful cause he doesn't like seeing you in any sort of pain.

JUN:

if it's a particularly funny way you injury yourself, he'll eat that shit up. is too busy laughing to check if you're okay until you start crying and he'll be like oh shit it's real okay let me lock in. extra attentive once he realizes its serious.

HOSHI:

the type to let out a loud scream when he sees you go down with an injury - you'd think he was the one in pain. he wants to help, he swears - but he's just as lost as you are. the only thing he knows is to take you to the hospital for professionals to help you since he can't.

WONWOO:

is immediately playing doctor with the random bits of knowledge he's gained on the medical side of tiktok (why he's on the medical side of tiktok idk). he's meticulous and precise with it, taking care of you like it's his profession. will crack a few jokes (albeit quite poor jokes) to try and cheer you up. reads to you as you try to fall asleep, his attempt at distracting you from the pain.

WOOZI:

realistically, woozi hears about your injury over the phone. he's at work in his studio cooking up another massive banger, and isn't fazed when he picks up your call. you tend to call him at least twice to make sure he's eating anyways. worried when you tell him what happened and asks if you need him there with you. either way, he's packing up to leave asap, no longer in the mindset to work knowing you're in pain.

MINGHAO:

if your injury was your own fault, he'll look at you like: (¬_¬") he's sighing at your clumsiness and you can hear the disappointment as he tends to your injury, all the while nagging about how you've got to be more careful. calls his mom to ask which herbal medicine will fix you faster - jokingly comes back with ginseng tea, telling you its to fix your clumsy ass brain.

DK:

screeches when he sees you drop. gags at the sight of blood. he approaches you slowly, hands shaking to check if you're okay. he's inwardly very panicked and lowkey not hiding it well. this wasn't in the boyfriend handbook! he's ready to be there for you though, cheering you up with funny anecdotes about him and the boys, doing his best to make you laugh through the pain. he will do anything you need him to during recovery -- just far from blood and anything icky that might come with it.

MINGYU:

lowkey probably the cause of the injury (sorry gyu stans, yk i'm right tho) he apologizes profusely, stating that he is 'just a clumsy big boy' and cannot help that he just has a rougher hand with things. makes it up to you with snacks, cooking and cuddles. allows you to use this incident against him till the end of time, although he gets sulky every time you bring it up.

SEUNGKWAN:

complains that he's got to take care of you but does it lovingly anyways. "i'm doing this cause i love you. you're lucky i love you or i would've left you suffering ages ago." gives you that signature seungkwan side eye if the injury was your fault. chides you to be more careful.

VERNON:

his first instinct is to ease the pain with bad jokes. will ask you if you'd wanted it to happen 'is this the result you wanted, baby?' and will quickly stfu when you glare at him. follows your orders on how to take care of you cause he's lowkey very lost. puts on a movie once everything is done to help you relax and to take your mind off the pain.

DINO:

ya'll 100% were doing something stupid and got injured together. dino has that 'you say jump, i say how high' energy, and you're definitely both in pain because one of you was doing something for jokes and the other joined for fun. takes care of you while complaining about his own pain. is a big baby when its your turn to take care of him. tells you to never bring this up to his hyungs or else he will never hear the end of it.

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[astrologydayz]

ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES

WHY do people say that if someone's planets falls into your 7th house, then YOU'RE THEIR IDEAL LOVER??? Bitch bye. If someone's planets falls into YOUR 7th house, then U DIG THEM OR HATE EM, AS IT'S YOUR 7TH HOUSE! Let's say that your crush planets falls into your 1st and 7th house, then obviously u like their looks (1st house) and the way they show themselves off 2 other people, (how they treat other people/people u know (7th house! Don't project.

Pluto conjunct Ascendant in synastry, is a stalker aspect🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️. It kinda reminds me of Hailey running around after Justin at his interviews, when they were young and he had no idea🤨🫣😭🤣 . SO FUCKING CREEPY. Pluto is obsessed, and way 2 "fixated" on the asc person. It can get dangerous, cuz ASC person has no idea about how deeply the obsession runs with Pluto, fr💀. The worst part is that they usually know that the Pluto person can be kinda "creepy", but not about how deep it actually runs. U won't ever really know with Pluto, cuz they won't even give out 20% of their secrets - they can't help it. Unless they literally have no aspects from Pluto 2inner planets in their own natal chart.

Your Bella asteroid - 695 conjunct/trine/quintile someone’s ASC means that the ASC person finds u really beautiful, (physical attraction) 🍒🫦. With the opposition it's on & off, like sometimes yeah and other times no - It switches. With the square/quincunx - takes time, but grows into a really strong attraction, the longer you're 2gether/know each other.

Why the fuck do people think that 8th house energy is only about sex and intense connections? If a person has planets in your 8th house = that person does not like u 9/10 times. They'll talk shit about u when u ain't present/gaslight u/do things behind your back. They're usually jealous of u. Trying 2 cross your personal boundaries all the fucking time. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?? NOT ME LOVE⚠⚠.

Why do Cap inner placements/points always get a "boring", or a "cold" rep? We just don't like u? Trust me. We'll show u a good time, if we think you're worth it.

Jupiter is not only good. It enlarges EVERYTHING. So if someone has Sado asteroid (118230) conjunct Jupiter in their natal chart = a very smart/knowledgeable Sadist. They want to know everything! Hours&hours of research. They can't get enough with Jupiter! They're into some sick shit, and can use some really AGGRESSIVE ways 2 create that "pain and suffering". "shhh, I'm here baby, it's okay"🤨. 9/10 times = addiction 2 being that Sado "teacher" with Jupiter here🔞🔞. They can even brag about it!

Nessus asteroid - 7066 in synastry can definitely cause sexual attraction. But the Nessus person will always take advantage of the other person, no matter what. It may not be as "in your face"/prominent, like it is with the conjunction/square/opposition, but it will take place. Some can like Nessus contacts in synastry, if they have Nessus aspecting their own planets - especially inner planets, or points. And they can also handle Nessus energy way more, than someone who doesn't really have any Nessus contact, as they're already used to it. It doesn't make it good tho.

WOMEN with Black Moon Lilith conjunct/square/opposite Mars can hate being touched by men. Can also have trouble regarding intimacy with men in general/bc of their experiences with them🪚🪚. I have this, and if a man touches me out of nowhere = I'll punch him back 2 the year he should have stayed in a fucking condom 🦄.

Lilith asteroid - 1181) in 3rd house synastry can mean that the house persons siblings doesn't like Lilith if it's "poorly" aspected😮‍💨😮‍💨. Or that house persons siblings doesn't even want 2 try 2 create a relationship, because they already heard so much "shit" about Lilith🫠🫠.

💜 Pluto conjunct asteroid Valentine - 447) in a natal chart loves so fucking hard. They'll literally take a bullet 4 the person they love. They don't “create” a connection with anyone easy either. They're so intense when it comes 2 love, and with how they connect 2 another being. They transform/find themselves - Pluto, through those few people they do end up loving. Most people can't handle their intense ways of showing love🖤🔫.

Inner planets in Gemini degrees 3/15/27° in a natal chart are the real champions, when it comes to overthinking - but knowing everything beforehand. They already thought about ALL the different outcomes, 2 every fucking situation!🫰🫠😍🤭. They already know what time it is, before u tryna tell em.

Look at your Vertex persona chart 2 c what kind of fated things you're supposed2 go through in this life ✍👀. Make a synastry chart and c if your Vertex chart makes any significant aspects 2 your natal! It can show important life events/secret fated "events" that won't be seen in just natal or Vertex pc alone👽.

Lol, I'VE SEEN A LOT OF PEOPLE SAY THAT ARIES RISING WILL HAVE RED HAIR, OR COLOR THEIR HAIR RED AT SOME POINT? I'm an Aries rising, and I would rather get shot in the face. I'm naturally blonde, and honestly? I haven't met a single Aries rising who has red hair, or would color their hair red.

Anti - Vertex persona chart shows what YOU choose2 let into your life, and what u choose 2 do without fate intervening. It also shows u how u choose 2 act, in moments where u find no "meaning", and that's where your Vertex pc comes in right after - Fate intervening 🔮🔮.

Pluto opposite ASC/conjunct DSC in synastry can show the Pluto person deciding/or trying to at least, who the house person talks 2/surrounds themselves with. They can think a person is "bad company" 4 the house person. They can be in DSC persons business, a lot! House person is alarmed/or not, depending on how Pluto is aspected in their own chart. If Pluto is afflicted = they kinda like it.

ANYONE who has benefitted/benefits from me = a planet/point/NN/Vertex/asteroid conjunct my POF. Your POF is all the things (material/or spiritual wealth/growth), u have "picked up" on/will pick up on throughout your life. U "help" others with that planet/point or asteroid in synastry💰🦉💳.

Star asteroids - Starr - 4150), Kallisto - 204), Fama - 408), Europe - 52), actor - 12238), Lumiere - 775 - acting, Apollo - 1862), Talent - 33154), Klio - 84), Fan - 151590), Records - 30718), Varuna - 20000) Webb - 3041).

✨✨✨✨🎭🎬🎨

Music, writing&poetry asteroids - Polyhymnia - 33), Euterpe - 27), Apollo - 1862), Terpsichore - 81 - song and dance) Luscinia - 713 - Singing), Melpomene - 18, Harmonia - 40), Erato - 62), Kalliope - 22), Singer - 10698), Cantor - 16246 - singing), Poesia - 946), Parthenope - 11 - singing), Tone - 1266), Echo - 60), Mnemosyne - 57). 

🎤🎧🎼

"Lucky asteroids" - Fortuna (19), Opportunities - 39382), Paradise - 2791), Winner - 15606), Abundantia - 151), Angel - 11911), Bless - 92891), Bonus - 10028), Tyche - 258), Midas - 1981), Magion - 2696), Spirit - 37452), Nike - 307).

🍀🍀🍀

Please look at these asteroids in synastry. Prey - 6157), Sado - 118230), Devience - 21419), Nessus - 7066), Pain - 5188), Lie - 26955), Blink - 4425), Nemesis - 128), Swindle - 8690), Lilith - 1181), Hades - h41), wild - 1941), Fanatica - 1589), Medea - 212), Savage - 29837), Not - 2857), Pervert - 18624), Hard - 28077). 

🔞

THANKS4READING BABE!!

Appreciate u, always❤️

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄… | xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/Deltanpopo on twitter ! ❀

[ A coy thing, you are, daring to lie to them about your wellbeing. ]

— "I'm alright."

A scoff leaves XIAO's lips at your swift words, his mouth curling into a sneer, one absent of a smirk. His arms crossed over his chest, dark shadows cast over his eyes. "Come again?"

His glare was intense - dangerous, its malice not directed towards you, but instead to whatever had made you like... this. You could shield your form from his piercing gaze all you wanted. It'd do nothing to deter him. The knowledge he held of your character, the way your voice gave the slightest tremor, and the way your eyes slipped from his own... he let out a noise of annoyance.

"As I said, Xiao. I'm fine."

You were't a good liar. At least, from his knowing view. Unacceptable. His lashes fluttered as his eyes narrowed. Was he not reliable enough for the truth? Why was it that you'd refuse his assistance while you were clearly suffering?

"No." His voice was decisive, cold, but not in the manner of harsh, unforgiving ice, but the morning frost that bloomed on the dewy stalks of riverside reeds. "You aren't."

He felt your gaze pause at his lips, yet did not rise to meet his own. Your own mouth quivered, just the slightest, and you downcast eyes that glistened flicked their attention to the ground. "Xiao, I..."

You voice trails off. There's no need to say more. For you stood, enveloped in the adeptus' rare embrace, his pale skin cool, yet sparking an unquenchable warmth within your chest.

"If you aren't okay, that's okay. I'll just have to hold you in my arms, until you are." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

A laugh escapes CHILDE's parted lips, a rather empty sound that resounded in your silence. It continues for a couple brief moments. "Ah, you're kidding, right?" He breaks into a smile that fades at the lack of your response. "Right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" You sighed, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. "I'm serious, Childe. I said I was fine." His gaze bore into you, to the point where you could feel your body smolder under his eyes. You shouldn't look at him now. Pursing your lips, you strengthened your resolve, but a moment of weakness upon hearing his shallow laughter was all it took to glance upwards. To meet his gaze.

A grave mistake, you had just unwittingly committed.

Before you could turn your head away, Childe's hand's caught you, one of them grabbing onto your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. "Say," his voice was low, quiet. A telltale sign of the anger that simmered underneath. "When did you get the notion that you'd be allowed to lie to me, and then get away with it scot-free, huh?"

The moment he had met your fleeting gaze, eyes locked onto yours, your verdict had been decided. Guilty. "Childe, it wasn't that I..."

"Oh, is it something you can't tell me, then?" His voice was softer now, but not in a threatening way, eyes melting with concern. Yes as much as he'd love to get at whatever - or whoever had made you so upset, he had a higher task of importance as of now. And that was to comfort the person before him, tentative under his touch. He slowly released his hold on your chin, instead giving your hair a ruffle that caused your locks to fly in disarray. "If so, then I won't push you anymore."

"I've... I've just had a really long day and-"

Your words lost their sound as instead, warmth replaced the quiet. Childe held you in his arms, delicately, like you were made of porcelain, and the slightest touch would shatter you. For someone as brash as him, to now stay silent, letting you let out all the world's concerns in his embrace...

"I won't say anything, alright? Just let it all out, and I'll listen." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

At first, SCARAMOUCHE almost looks offended at your words. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are drawn into a scowl. "What, care to repeat that? It's funny how you think you're fooling anyone."

It takes a moment to find your voice again, with how intense his eyes stare into you - indigo, flashing with electro power. Mesmerizing, dangerous, lethal if you drew too close. It didn't matter you supposed, you had already been in his reach for far longer than you cared to admit, and you had yet to be burnt away. "...I'm alright, nothing happened."

This time, your answer drew a startling laugh that bubbled from deep within him, a carnal yet almost melodious sound that flowed like water and blazed like flames. "Ah, that's funny. You've been hanging around the other Fatui, haven't you?" His gaze narrowed in distaste. "Disgusting, all of them. And from the likes of it, you've been picking up some nasty habits as well. Speaking nothing but the truth to me should be a given, yet you're saying such things without the slightest guilty conscience... I couldn't help but laugh!"

Guilty conscience my ass. Of course it took something out of you to lie to your.. lover. Yes, despite it all, Scaramouche was the one you were joined hands with - even in the male didn't act like it. Or perhaps he did, in a world of his own masked away in a guise behind a guise. His spark just drew you closer.

"Scara, you wouldn't understand...!" Don't get aggravated, keep your voice composed, steady. "It's... it's something personal, alright? I just.. I just don't want to talk about it right now. Give me time, please."

Please? His maniacal expression dimmed as he paused, just a brief moment. He hadn't hurt you, had he? No, you knew him well, well enough to know that that was just the person he was, didn't you? "...So it was like that?" He tried to hide his apologetic expression with a hand over the lower half of his face, but his eyes glistened regardless.

"Ah, just forget about it. If you're hurting, then... Come here, all right? I'll humor you, just for tonight." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) okay okay so. i. im gonna try and post a fic every day this week. spoiler alert: its fucking exam week BUTBUT BUT im so close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be so silly if we could hit it before new years!! that's why im gonna be listening to burnout playlists while typing away like my life depends on it.// wish me luck on my exams ahah. theyre tommorrow.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[ohimsummer]

BAD HABIT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

— minors dni, perverted!+bully! satosugu, uh light fluff? (mostly in the bonus?), mostly satoru x reader, fantasizing about smut (gojo), prob inaccurate college rep idc <3, pet names (princess, darling), explicit language, suggestive comments, some recording/photography, one mention of blackmail

summary; suffering exhaustion beneath a pile of college projects and exams wasn’t enough, now you’re stuck tutoring the most annoying men in the world. couldn’t hurt to take a little nap during it

wc 3.1k ??

The last few weeks have been long, nerve-wracking. It seems all your professors have co-conspired together to drop some kind of test or project, all worth a large portion of the grade and all due in the next month. Your nightly 8 hours of sleep have dwindled to a measly four, and of course, to top it all off, now your Bio Chem teacher has donned you the responsibility of tutoring Gojo and Geto indefinitely.

They had to have something to do with this, you just know it. Call it a wild hunch but there’s no way, of all the people in that class, a lot of which have higher grades than yours, that the professor would ask you to tutor Gojo and Geto. Maybe they slipped a few hundreds in the teacher’s hand or appealed to his emotions. Knowing the theatrics of Gojo, he probably gave the man big, puppy-dog eyes and crocodile tears during his fake pleas of ‘please, sir, we really want to pass this class!’.

A light knock on your door drags you out of your thoughts, followed by the familiar voice of a white-haired pest. “Knock, knock!”

You’ve been dreading 5PM since yesterday, the time they, and reluctantly you, had agreed on. Demanding they come to your dorm was akin to putting acid on your tongue, but going over to theirs like Geto’d offered would be like walking into the lion’s den.

They await you within the hall, and Gojo perks up immediately at the sight of you. He unwraps himself from Geto’s shoulders, and your suspicions that they don’t really need your knowledge only grow when you notice they’re both empty-handed, not a book or worksheet or even a flash card in sight. Though you can’t dwell on it for too long as Gojo’s immediately barging into the room.

“Princess, good to see ya!,” comes his boisterous greeting. “Nice place ya got here.” Entwined in his teasing compliment is a conniving tone; Gojo examines the various pink decor of your bedroom. “Should come by more often.”

“Negative.,” you snap with furrowed brows, terse and patience already wearing thin at Geto’s languid pace through the door.

He nears Gojo to study the photo album adorning your tack board, leaving you to prepare by getting out the needed textbooks. You ignore their childish whispers, giggles, points at the various pictures that contain you and your friends, though it causes a bout of unease to settle in your stomach. Hopping onto the tall bed, you scoot until your back’s to the wall, placing down a recently-made stack of notes and the class’s assigned textbooks. It’s a short hunt for the page you desire, somewhere lost in the middle because this professor jumped from subject to subject so often.

You clear your throat to signal it’s time to begin. “Okay. So–“

Already you’re off to a bad start as the textbook disappears from your grasp, now suspended above Gojo’s head, far out of your reach. “This looks super bo-oring!”

You spring away from the sheets, landing with a soft ‘thud’ and instantly move to crush his feet, or kick his knees in, or have him hunched over with a punch to the stomach, but your movements are halted by Geto’s sudden grasp on your waist. Head jerking to the side, you shoot him your deadliest stare, nails steadily sinking into his unfortunately clothed forearms.

“Let go.,” you bark and he doesn’t move a muscle.

“Pft. Aren’t you adorable?,” he murmurs into your neck, tone bathed in condescension. “Just relax, he’s joking.” Against your wriggling and squirming, Geto backsteps to the shiny wooden desk in your room, still clinging to your waist. “Have a seat, it’d do you some good to calm down a little.”

And before you know it, he’s descending into the cool comfort of your chair, dragging you with him to rest in his lap. Gojo slams the book shut and approaches your restrained, restless form, grinning wildly the whole time. He pushes you back to recline atop his friend, thoroughly amused at your continuous flailing. A round of delighted laughter leaves Gojo’s lips, especially at the childish kick of your legs that don’t reach the floor from your position.

“Would you let fucking go of me?,” you huff between grunts, only to be met with Geto’s thoughtful hum.

“I might when you relax.,” he finally speaks.

You twist around in Geto’s lap to jab an enraged finger at his broad chest, a disdainful scowl painted across your features. “Did you two come here to play, or did you come here to learn?”

Gojo reaches out to ruffle your hair, smirking when you slap his hand away. The book precariously wobbling on his fingertips begins to fall, caught by him at the last minute before it hits the floor. “Can’t we do a little bit of both?”

Your toes brush the rug as you scramble forward in Geto’s lap, promptly ignoring the growing hardness you feel on your behind. “If you two aren’t gonna take this seriously then get out of my room.”

Geto chuckles as Gojo heaves out a loud sigh, and holds the textbook out to you. “Fine, jeez, you’re such a little buzzkill.”

You leap up from Geto’s lap and snatch it back. “Shut the hell up and sit down.”

Tension seeps away as they obey without question. Geto claims your swiveling desk chair as Gojo flops down on the huge, pink carpet covering majority of the floor, and you settle back onto the bed, flip again to the designated page and begin going over your plans for today’s tutoring session. You can feel two pairs of eyes burning into you, but opt to just concentrate on dumbing down the material for them.

Gojo zones out immediately as you dive into the information. Ocean blue eyes catch onto the curves and dips of your body and admire the cute loungewear you have on. Snug, white shorts that hug your skin and ride up the crease of your plush thighs. He studies the curve of your ass long enough to realize he can spot pink panties barely showing through the translucent fabric. With the way you’re sitting, knees midway pulled to your chest, Gojo can see the outline of your pussy, and blood rushes to his dick as his mind goes haywire. Gojo visualizes a different scenario, one where he spikes that stupid textbook into the floor and fucks you senseless. He can imagine perfectly the look on your face as he pins you to a mattress, voice wavering through false bravado as you whine through plump lips at him to move. Complaining even though your rounded thighs are rubbing together to ease the ache of your cunt, a damp spot forming in the crotch of your shorts as Gojo peppers kisses along your neck. The view of your beautiful tits with perked nipples rubbing against his chest and driving Gojo insane until he rips the thin layers off, both the panties and shorts together to leave your glistening pussy bare for him, ready to be ravaged and abused by his cock–

“Gojo.” He hears his name, but it’s like someone calling him underwater. “Gojo.”

A sharp kick in the ribs and he’s at full attention. Geto snickers at him, still swiveling back and forward in the leather chair, and Gojo looks over to meet your sharp dagger of a glare over the textbook.

“It’d be nice if you could focus on me and not waste my time.,” you sigh in utter annoyance.

Gojo grins that boyish smile, one that makes you want slap it off his face but maybe also makes your heart stutter a tad. “Oh-ho, babe, I‘m always focused on you.”

His statement brings a warmth to your cheeks, but you’re an expert at pretending around Satoru Gojo. Rolling your eyes, you huff and backtrack on a couple paragraphs in an effort to catch him up. Less distractions for him to latch on to.

“I think I’d focus more if I wasn’t so lonely down here.,” he interrupts to sulk in your direction.

The look you give is like one a mother gives a disobeying child. “Okay? No one told you to sit down there.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, especially since Gojo perks up at the sentence. “Oh, inviting me to sit on the throne with you, princess?”

Eyes widening in disbelief, you try to sputter out a ‘no!’, but Gojo’s already sprung up and leaping into bed next to you. “No takebacks!”

You frown, brows knitted as he gets a little too comfy, squishing your favorite stuffed animal in his arms and blinking a wide-eyed look at you. Geto eyes you two and continues slow swirls in the chair, getting slightly dizzier with each rotation, but at least he’s actually been taking in the information you’ve explained. Not that he needs your tutoring, he’s up there with you as one of the top students in this particular class. But it’s hard not to read your lips when he’s been shamelessly ogling them the past ten minutes.

Sighing in defeat, you allow Gojo to curl up next to you. It’s easy to feign his attention and he pretends to read over your shoulder, though his mind is anywhere but in this textbook. If anything, this was far worse. Being in such close proximity, your alluring scent threatens to drag him deeper into your space. Instead of focusing on your body or, you know, the material, now all Gojo can concentrate on is pinpointing the ingredients of your shampoo. It’s so familiar, right on the tip of his tongue…vanilla? Maybe, but he can also catch hints of strawberry in there somewhere. Perhaps if he was a little closer…

“Can you back off a little?,” you snap at him. “Damn, you’re almost on top of me.”

Gojo smirks. “I can be actually on top of y-“

“Anyways you two can look over this.,” you ignore his flirtatiousness and stand up to get away from him. “Since you apparently know this more than me. I don’t even get why y’all asked for tutoring if you weren’t gonna listen.”

And before Gojo can object, you teeter towards the edge of the bed, land on the soft rug, and head towards the mini fridge for a much-needed drink of water. It’s bad enough you were asked to tutor them when they clearly don’t care for it, but for them to actually come and then waste your time, too? Egregious. You have half a mind to kick both of them out and tell the professor they don’t need anyone’s damn help, much less yours.

You bend over for a cold water bottle, and in the few seconds it takes you to grab it, you swear you hear the faint sound of a camera click behind you. Quiet noises follow after, almost like they’re trying to have a conversation without you noticing, but it’s silent as you turn around to continue the lesson. They’re so fucking weird. Whatever.

Drawing near the bed, you steady a hand and make ready to hop back into place, only for a strong pair of hands to hoist you up and set you on the edge. You let out a soft ‘oh!’, sincerely taken aback, and turn to look at Gojo, who’s readjusting back into his original spot like nothing has happened.

“What?,” he asks. Something about the nonchalant upturn of his lips is different than his usual smirk. Something more genuine and less smug.

Doubt clouds your vision, tugs the corners of your lips down as you glance between him and Geto, who’s halted his endless chair twirling to give a curious tilt of his head. They eye eachother, and then you again; Geto has the smallest smile, seemingly unassuming but you’re skeptical of it nonetheless.

“Nothing.,” you decide to dismiss it because you’d only be setting yourself up for failure trying to explain why it was a problem. Besides, addressing it would only serve to fuel Gojo’s numerous efforts to throw everything off track. Maybe he was seriously just trying to help. Fine, no big deal.

You awkwardly flounder backwards, making sure to put a few more inches of space between you and Gojo. All to no avail since the second you settle your laptop upon your bare thighs, he instantly closes the gap. The radiating heat of his body sends warmth throughout your skin, exhaustion catching up to pierce through your bones, and you find yourself wanting to swaddle up within blankets and go to sleep.

“The professor has a few study guides on the website.,” you yawn, keys clicking beneath your fingers until the aforementioned pdf file is loading down the screen. “Hundreds of questions but a lot of this stuff will be on the final, so it’d be helpful to study it all.”

Your eyelids flutter, and next is Gojo’s low voice in your ear. “Tired, princess? I thought you were supposed to be teaching us.”

His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin, and you suddenly notice how cold this room is. “Fuck off.,” you mutter, shortly followed up by both their chuckling.

“Told you to relax.,” Geto voices in the most ‘told ya so’ tone ever. “Get some rest, we can take it from here, and we’ll wake you if we need something.”

It’s a bad idea, you know it’s a bad idea, but…you can’t help succumbing to a little nap. The past several days have worn you thin, and despite not trusting these two to find a drunk in a bar, let alone have unsupervised access to your room, the promise of a little sleep is tempting. You are exhausted so, against your better judgement, you bank on the fact that they have the potential of grown, mature men who won’t get up to something nefarious while you rest your eyes for a little. Surely it couldn’t hurt to put the slightest amount of trust in them, and you allow your vision to fade.

During your catnap, you have the poor luck to dream of school. Studying, finals, projects, classes, anything related to college, you conjured up an even more miserable version of it in your dream state. Though in one dream you cuddle that stuffed animal Satoru grabbed from your bed, so that’s a plus. In the dream it’s warm, snuggly, fuzzy. You smother it in your arms, bury your face into it to inhale the smell of it, a scent you’re infatuated with. You vaguely recognize it in your sleep, it smells so much like…

You awake to the jostling of your shoulders. Someone, two people actually, are talking, maybe to you? What are your whereabouts, actually?

“Ah, there she is!” The familiar voice sounds vague and foggy, loud but far away. “Have a good nap, princess?”

Harsh light beams into your eyes, tampering with the return of your sight. You hover a hand over your forehead to shield your face, peering around in a hope to get your bearings.

“I think she’s still half-asleep.,” another voice whispers, and then says louder, “Take your time, darling.”

Everything is bleary, but you can just make out the details of your room. There’s your fridge over on the opposite wall, the lamp on your desk, speaking of which, who’s in your chair? You start to sit up, wondering in the back of your mind when you laid down to begin with, utterly bewildered when you feel something, a hand, firm and warm on the bare skin of your hip. Pink bedsheets, white dorm walls, your legs, someone else’s legs stretched out beside yours…A chuckle rings somewhere to your right as you gape at these seemingly disembodied legs. Your gaze trails up to see they’re attached to a waist, a chest, a pair of arms, and then your eyes fall on the face.

“G–!”, you hesitate, stumbling backwards away from Gojo who laughs maniacally. “Get off me, Gojo!”

He scoffs, Geto huffs a laugh somewhere in the room. “You were the one laying all up under me, actually.”

“I was not!”

“You so were,” he argues, giddiness in his voice. “You were allll over me, baby. Hugging my arm, rubbing my chest, all of it. Wanna see the video?”

You gasp out, “Vi–? Video?”

Gojo fiddles around on his phone. “Yeah, check it out, sweet cheeks!”

He holds the phone out to you, and a large, empty feeling plummets to the bottom of your stomach. You, spooning him, a betraying smile spread on your lips as you nuzzle Gojo’s chest, completely oblivious to your surroundings. His hand snaked around your waist, fingers occasionally playing with the hem of your shirt or ducking beneath to pinch your hips. You whine when he does so, and in the video you see the stutter of his body, hear traces of his quiet laughter. The phone currently shakes in Gojo’s grasp from his endless giggling.

“Delete it!,” you stammer in complete disbelief. “Pervert!”

“Pervert?,” Gojo repeats your accusation. “You’re the one feeling me up in the video!”

“Get y’all’s asses out of my room!,” you shout at them, leaping to the floor to immediately escort them out. “Both of you, now!”

Gojo glares, huffs, and does his signature pout, all the while Geto chuckles hysterically behind his palm. “How rude of my tutor to kick me out after falling asleep during the session on top of trying to seduce me!”

Geto chimes in before you can tell his friend to shut the fuck up. “Surely you can spare a few minutes to make up for that time?”

“No.,” you say bluntly. “Out.”

You watch in disapproval as they grab their things, foot tapping impatiently the whole time as you hold the door wide open for them to leave through. They take their time, eventually prompting you to just start shoving them out into the hall.

“So, same time tomorrow?,” Geto teases, stumbling through the doorway.

You grimace, giving them both a last push out of your room. “Absolutely not-“

“And get some rest too, while you’re at it.,” Gojo bids you farewell with one last aggravating comment.

“Whatever.,” and you slam the door in their faces, Satoru poking his tongue out at you with a wink.

bonus!

— It’s the early hours of the morning. Geto has long since passed out, but Satoru can’t seem to get a wink of sleep. The video replays in his mind, and he tries desperately to imagine the sensation of your body laying against him. No teasing, no sex, no filthy, perverted thoughts. Just the feeling of your head on his chest again, limbs haphazardly wrapped around him. The even sounds of your breathing, warm breath brushing over his collar. Such an adorable, peaceful look on your face when you’re not glaring at him and spouting insults in a rage. Yeah, he told Geto he was taking pictures and a video as some kind of future blackmail, but, truth be told, Satoru really just wanted them all for himself.

[meanbossart]

okay i dont know if this is like common knowledge. but do astarions hair or nails grow?? hes undead, which i would assume stops the process. so he got his hair cut once like 200 years ago and just kept it forever

I mean, vampires aren't real so it's whatever you want it to be/results in the best dramatic effect! : D

The way I have it, Astarion's biology entered a frozen state the moment his transformation into a vampire spawn was completed. It can't develop past it - it only wants to return to it or degenerate further (through neglect, starvation or stress).

What that means is that if he were to get a haircut, for example, it would grow back normally for the most part - but never past the length he had when he died. On the other hand, it also means that if he were to be mistreated for a long period of time he could still suffer from conditions like hair-loss. This is how I explain how "gaunt" he looks despite the fact that an elf his age should look much younger.

[sunflower1experiment]

The Doctor, will See You

Risk

It was quiet, you were quiet, it made him uncomfortable when you would acknowledge him with a nod and then walk past. Tending to the children, was it the fact that you lost this child or maybe you had finally accepted your fate. Whatever the plan was it was also affecting the toys too, Leith was less strict and more patient but the knowledge that you weren't actively seeking any forms of social bond made him worry. "Can you talk to me?"

Stella begs while holding your hand, you chuckle sadly. "No, stop trying and just work. Please."

Work, silence, feed, care, work, silence.....feed...?

Doey's neck stretches across his cell and ate some of the fruit you placed down, "You're feeding us? Why?" This was Kevin talking, the children were weary. You simply shake your head, "I'm doing this to tell you to live, keep rebelling, you're all smart and I...I'm doing what I can before I accept everything."

The boys stare at you through Doey, "What do you mean? Your voice isn't gentle, so why?"

"Kevin, Matthew, Jack...Doey. I don't think Harley or Prototype are good. So, I want you to take care of the children if things get...tense, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. Every choice you make. Make sure to forgive yourself, okay? You're good kids." Doey flinches when you place one more food into his hand.

It was, colorful, like him a pretty fruit with colors and a variety of different tastes. "Peach..." He ate it curiously, relishing the different essences of sweetness.

Catnap was well difficult to speak with, you knew he held high expectations for Prototype and also didn't see you as anything other than a scientist, an adult. One that betrayed him, the food placed down was smacked away, "It's okay. You have every right to be angry."

He sneers at your words, just because you were "one of the good ones"

"You are no better, you are a scientist, you still stood beside him." Nodding at his words you sigh sadly.

"Maybe that was a signal, loving him and then getting attached to you all. That no matter how hard I try, I was more loyal to playtime than I was myself. I so badly wish to take your pain away. Sadly, the only thing I can do is this."

What did you mean!? Catnap watches you leave, Dogday stares in horror, "Catnap, did Prototype...." No, what did you mean!?

Were you leaving? No, you had a plan, something they wouldn't know about. Mommy places the fruits and vegetables aside when you returned. After everything, the truth, and now you and Harley were no more. What were you planning to do exactly? "Is there a reason you're so, quiet, planning in silence?"

"The plan is to give you all strength, and then, gather evidence." Mommy's eyes widen, she slinks over with a curious grin. "Evidence?"

"You are evidence, but the files are too." So that is why you were quiet and so obediently tame, of course this is merely as scary as any job with a corrupt background but to be on top and stay while hitting rock bottom. Yet here you are, giving food while ignoring Harley's calls.

Huggy leans in when your phone rings for the third time, you hold his cheek so he could remain still. His sharp teeth chew on the pears you feed him, sometimes he'd stand guard while you worked. Listening to the apologies or gentle words he wished to hear, when the experimentations happened. Did you even know of the pain? the anguish? The suffering everyone experienced at the hands of Harley, Eddie and Leith?

He could only smile while staring at you, your apologies meant something but in terms of actioner it would fall flat.

"tHe hOur oF jOy....yOu sHoUlD join..."

"I can't...I have to give the evidence to the public, you understand...I'm not sure what this hour will be but if you all plan to escape then I'll do everything I can to help."

Prototype envies your determined futility; him and Harley were alike that way. Harley loves your bleeding heart while Prototype's plan was meant to break you, turn you to hate humanity and maybe just maybe you could collaborate with him. Not out of love, or concern to commemorate you and him becoming allies, but because he needed eyes, ears, hands, and the ability to touch.

He then notes the ringing phone, that was once again in voicemail. Harley was growing more desperate.

Each one went straight to voicemail, or he'd find you in your office. Expecting coffee from you or a small smile of assurance, where did he go wrong? The day he truly went wrong was probably the last time you and him would share such warm embrace.

What happened? The files were placed down, evidence upon evidence and a video file to upload the truth to the world. Now all there is the door, but it was locked. Your body tenses, and in the back of your mind you prayed it wasn't what you thought it'd be. Whether you loved him or not, it was still...

It starts with a crash, a gunshot, yelling, what did Prototype do, words of who will cover this up fill your ears. How will he cover it up, then you ran in and knelt to Harley's side, holding him by the face.

Whether Harley wanted to or not, that was what made Leith, and you clash, he was usually bemused with your interaction with the toys.

Yet nothing bemused him more than seeing your teary-eyed face standing before him.

TW// Blood, gunshot, (Here we see his perspective of what happened. Meanwhile Leith gets his perception while the hour of joy is its own chapter), cursing, gore minors do not interact if you get weary at the mention of blood

Harley, Harley Sawyer, head scientist of the projects, facing betrayal, curiosity, discovery, love, failure, and isolation. Holding no sorts of humility and discipline as stated by Elliot, he struggles to reach the top of the ranks in playtime co. Striding to become better than those nobodies he called coworkers, the ones with bleeding hearts, soft like Elliot or not even capable to reach his intellect.

Many experiments, failure or not he knew he was the one carrying this company to success, then it was Quinn...

Quinn, he should've listened when he knew someone was opting to take this child in. Experiment 1166, aka Yarnaby. The obedience it displays....or he displays, was enough to make Sawyer "take" him in. That was his first mistake, "That boy Quinn, I really want to adopt him."

In one ear and out the other, this man was foolish. To even form a relationship with someone who held more humility, more humanity than him. How dare he ruin the concept of enamor for his partner to be or to not be.

He loved you, of course he did, that's why he kept you close. Someone needed to keep this family together, Harley, Quinn Yarnaby, you. His mind wanders to the baby, two months in...and to see your locked door, the fetus, the man wanted to yell at the scientist for not saving it. It could be of potential: What a sick twisted thought to have about your own child!

Harley breaths as he scraps the paperwork on the prototype, "sOmethiNg thE mATTER? DoCtor?"

"No, you and I both know that....So anything else you wish to express?" It chuckles, then taps the metallic fingers on the table. "You both loved each other so dearly, and you simply had to turn that boy into a toy....Criminals, sick, dying...Right? Potential toys. Or better yet Some sedation."

"Don't you ever use that voice against me! Damn it!" Harley slams his hands on the table, he hated that voice, because it belonged to you. Except you were crying, hugging his frame while he couldn't bear to see you making that pathetic sound. Even when the doctor had the audacity to find some sick amusement at Yarnaby's sounds....you were different.

It absolutely annoys Harley's soul knowing Stella held some form of kinship to you, the flowers expressed so many words. So, he tried as well, first it was a Clematis Jackmanii, you were enthralled by such beauty. Next the Iris, you returned this exchange with a Rosemary, so he got bolder, and he was before your office with a Tuberose. Your wide eyes and slightly startled demeanor rub him the wrong way until you show him a beautiful pink poppy. He holds it, silent....

That flower was now wilted, he was heartbroken or maybe he needed to try again. So, he foolishly offers a poppy flower. Your demeanor is unchanging, and your silence spoke so many words to him, truly the indifference you held to the doctor hurt more than any form of hatred.

All these puzzles and shifts to try and win you over again he simply moves onto work like you but not the way he'd expect. The incident, he simply had Boxy Boo cover his tracks, and he'd leave while everyone else was already home. Until he saw you, your eyes were wide the crashing, gunshots, what happened!?

But he could only focus on you, he tries to speak, then stops when you walk forward. Harley practically drops everything to hold you but then his eyes widen. There was blood on the floor, sounds of shouting and Leith's angry yelling while guards start to seize you.

"Harley! What did you bastards do!? What was that!?" Your voice fades as the guards move you towards the hallways, "Harley!!!"

Harley's breathing shortens, too much blood loss...he felt it track over his lab coat. It reminded him of your warmth, your lips and tender touch.

"Start the procedure."

Then the doctor awoke, calling for you, it made Leith tense with anger, Dr. Bruno White clears his throat. "Procedure complete....how, are you feeling?"

"White!? Where, what happened...I...Something is wrong, what did you do!? Which one of you higher up backstabbing traitors..."

"I gave the order." Leith cuts Sawyer off from his angry tangent, he sighs. "After so many chances and even a failed attempt of us nearly getting exposed. You really know how to handle your screw ups."

"Enough with your idle talk, why would we even get exposed?" Sawyer snarls at him, his patience wearing thin.

"Your partner had evidence, upon evidence! Everything was recorded, everything! You simply couldn't just leave it alone..." Leith sighs, "Luckily we dealt with him as per needed.

"You have no idea what you all are doing, you all need mine and my dear's intellect!"

"That is the exact reason why you're here and not food for Boxy Boo." Leith retorts while he looks at Leith's now isolated form. "Here's how we'll do this, you will give the other scientists answers when they need them, and to perform procedures as directed."

"You'll die for this Pierre! When I get my hands on you. You're a DEAD MAN!"

Harley wouldn't accept this, not when you were trapped somewhere, being treated with the same pain. Leith Pierre maybe, a greedy bastard but...would he hurt you.

He had to know, it was as if the world was against him for the final time. How many months went by is what he'd ask but he knew time was only relative in the eyes of the beholder.

That's when he hears him again, "Open the door!" Leith's angry voice fills his ears, you take some steps back. Holding your chest, he watches through the camera tapping on the screen. Anything to get your attention, Stella's cries fill his head. Why was everyone do damn loud!?

"I failed, for the final time." Your voice begins, he assumed you were crying, and he desperately hopes it was true. Yet when no tears shed, he was angry. At himself, those fools, you!

He notices you grabbing the lever, to release everyone, everything, even him. But that meant you would die too, "No matter how much I try to look, I was no better…if they kill me, I hope I can ease their pain…I’m so sorry children."

You can't be serious!? This had to be prototype's doing! Why didn't he see the signs sooner, damn it, damn everything to hell it was his fault! He held the blame, Leith Pierre held the blame, Stella, all of these scientists. Innocent, guilty....

"I really did love him." Harley stops moping with self-loath when you say those words, "I just wanted him to see that those orphans, the children. They were smarter than people realize..."

You pull the lever; closing the gate that guards the workers in the higher grounds. "Prototype wanted us to die but, not everyone deserves it. I tried to convince him and Sawyer..."

The doctor watches your determined glare towards the others, "I'm doing this for the sake of the children and the innocent. I don't care if this seems like some moral power play, it isn't, I'm no better."

Everything played out so slowly, the gates were vain as they transported Huggy to the upper floor. Killing everyone, Mommy long legs follow afterwards in the train station playground, death, blood, bodies. The sick sounds of someone's body being torn apart, it made Harley watch in awe how they practically turn this place to hell..

Because of him and those backstabbing scientists, what exactly did you do? Right, you never did them, you were the one who interrogated the children and toys.

Always being sweet, and caring for them, feeding those damned beasts. That was your downfall and biggest flaw, you had that bleeding heart...

"....Hello old friend." The prototype says in a mocking manner, "I see even after everything, your love for that scientist has not changed. So, will the doctor be seeing them?"

Harley chuckles bitterly at its words of mockery and amusement, those fools lost control god knows how much later after he was turned. Now this "Hour of Joy" happens, all of his work in shambles..

But you, his perfect experiment. You weren't in shambles, not yet that is, maybe if he made you into something like him the toys would be more accepting. Unlike that Thomas Clarke fellow, he could make you his perfect experiment, the perfect partner. Without that awful bleeding heart, he came to adore so much, you'd be safe from manipulation. From Prototype, he sighs once more as he finally clears his head, "Make sure my dear partner doesn't die.."

Your fate was sealed that day.

[fleshandregret]

Were there always 𝘵𝘸𝘰 beasts of deceit?

☆.A list of general headcanons about an au where the witches decided to divide the knowledge in two. Can also be read as: i hate that everyone thinks that Shadow Milk basically kidnaps people instead of being able to love someone and actually be understood :D

☆. This was originally meant to be an au with my oc but I tried to keep the personality for the reader as neautral as possible, no gender or anything specified because if I see that I'm supposed to have long blonde hair one more time I'm gonna kms. 　　

☆. Isn't really nsfw but there is a "suggestive" part, like they don't fuck but it's implicit so before someone comes for my head I WARNED YOU. Anyway I hope you enjoy it :}.

☆. Also english isn't my first language so I'm genuinely sorry if there are any mistakes :/.

-First of all I prefer to think that you didn't meet Shadow Milk after he became the beast of deceit. To have someone understand him in such a deep way it's only possible if you were there since the origin of everything, even his. It's not impossible to imagine how heavy all the knowledge is to bear so it would make sense if the witches decided to divide it in 𝘵𝘸𝘰, no?

-Not everyone knows that it wasn't one being that held all the knowledge in their head but two similar cookies, always together since the start and unable to physically stay away from each other for a long amount of time. It wasn't far fetched to say that after the creation of the academy people considered you to be his shadow and him yours. There wasn't one moment where you two could be found more than ten meters apart and the reason was kind of obvious, even if not to many people. You were each other's half without wanting it to be, if knowledge started with him the only possible outcome was for it to finish with you.

-As much as the weight of knowing literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 held the both of you from forming meaningful relationships with other cookies (ignoring the beasts obviously) it didn't mean that you became hermits and went away from society, especially since your role was to spread information and teach others. It was after years and years of having to face thousands of different cookies everyday and try to help them with the infinity of informations you had that it became more of a burden to you.

-If years ago others seemed happy to know every kind of possible thing in Crispia, now it felt as if you were being rude by telling them those truths. Needless to say that having someone able to understand perfectly helped the both of you overcome those moments and push forward. And even if things made you tired it was always okay because you knew that he would have always been there to comfort you and vice versa.

-But the situation changed. It changed that one faithful day when the witches you held so dear to your hearts told you that it wasn't enough, that even if all the cookies preferred 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘵 you couldn't agree with them and ignore it because only they could and not 𝘺𝘰𝘶, not the perfect duo they created to spread 𝘵𝘩𝘦 word. From that point on it only went downhill, the two of you agreed that it wasn't 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳, it wasn't 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 that only you had to suffer because of those rules and standards while the others could live happily and in ignorance.

-It took some time for the other beasts to start noticing how unfair life was to them too and one by one they fell, the only ones you could think of as friends being held back by forks and chains while you had to pretend that your life was happy. After that everything changed, the knowledge and truth you were supposed to spread became the base for misinformation and lies, those very things the other cookies liked some much became your routine until at some point the witches stopped you, they did what you saw years before being done to your closest friends only now you were being both sealed away in some damn tree for what you thought would have been the rest of eternity.

-Shadow Milk and you weren't the fountain of knowledge anymore, to them at least, but all those things didn't vanish from your minds, all the informations, lies and painful memories were still in your heads like a sea during a storm, unable to stop and become peaceful like it once was. Conversations with the other beasts became rare over time, their rage towards the witches making them unable to care about a conversation with you. It was at that point in your lives that you really understood how important you were to each other, obviously you knew it already but now that it was nothing but you two it became palpable how your souls were interviewed and literally unable to be pulled apart. If the witches thought it a good idea to create two of you it was probably their biggest regret now.

———————

-It was after 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 that the damn tree opened and you realized that you didn't have your full power anymore. As if being imprisoned for a millenia wasn't enough they had to strip you of your soul jam and give it to some 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘥, like he had the right to use it while you two were left to your own demise. Anger, resentment and sadness were the only feelings that your hearts could feel for far too much time and after 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 who it was that stole your power they only heightened, now unable to really understand how was it 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 that everything that made you two who you were in the past was now held away from you while your mere existence was considered a crime.

-The only luck on your side was the one that made you have enough power to escape the situation and find refuge in what was years before known as the spire of knowledge, now a place full of dust and old memories that could once again be considered your home. It's probably thanks to that too that you were, even if only a little, able to partially calm down and concentrate on the situation at hand and how to face those 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 and regain your power back.

———————

-As for the relationship I'd say that the start was probably the hardest part, but only like the first few days because after those it felt as if you were literally made for each other (lol you were). The type of relationship and friendship where you two are able to talk about everything, and in your case literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, from how the universe was made to why some rats look better when they become taxidermy than when they were alive.

-Your life was a constant presence in his and the same was for you, it should feel bad to always be around someone but with him it was as if everything around you was still and the only moving things were the two of you. Needless to say that in the years at the academy you couldn't really show affection to each other because of the list of students always surrounding you two to ask things regarding previous lessons, and even if you two lived together the time was mostly spent working to improve lives and not to really live yours.

-All this started to change when you opted for the lies and deceit road, now able to talk to each other for more than ten minutes at a time and to maybe sleep at least six hours. This obviously meant that your lives were spent differently, you didn't have to care about others too much so it came natural to care about each other even more than before. Now it wasn't a problem if you two were found kissing each other before a lesson and if someone dared to say something bad about it they would 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 have no one to talk to the next day. Totally not because one some rumor that started spreading about them, oh no no, you misunderstand really it was only his fault that made the situatuon escalate like that and so quickly.

-Needless to say that over time people noticed a pattern and opted for staying away from you, not that you minded obviously, it only meant that you two would have finally been able to start living like a normal couple and not like the embodiments of all knowledge. By this I mean that general affection became routine, cooking together every morning was now the norm and things like spending time reading on the couch or watching a movie could finally be considered normal days and not like some kind of taboo.

-The almost non existent 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 moments that for a long time were almost nothing more than an escape from the harsh reality out there were now finally moments of pleasure between two lovers. The attraction you felt for each other now had the time to be expressed and the shame you almost felt in the past seemed to never have existed in the first place.

-Obviously all of this came to an halt when the tree took all you beasts in 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 and it's kind of obviously to say that when it spat you out the first thing you did when arriving at the spire wasn't dusting the shelves and sweeping the floors.

-Now your life could begin again, even if the anger you both felt towards Pure Vanilla was the prime subject of your discussions that doesn't mean that your life as a couple magically ended. It was after some time that other cookies decided to work for you, the first one was obviously Black Sapphire and after some time Candy Apple joined too. As much as it seemed strange at first to have other people living with you, even if not in the same section of the spire, they grew on you both after some time, not that they could be considered your kids but when you started helping the younger one with choosing the hairstyles she preferred for the day and which dress fit her better it did start to feel as if you were some kind of family. As dysfunctional as it could be obviously, but a family nonetheless.

-After the years spent in the tree the clingy side of him started shining through, not that you minded but it sure was way different than the past. It wasn't as if your personal space stopped to exist since you both were always together but a thousand years ago he probably would have never opted for walking with a hand around your waist or literally making out in public, be it in front of servants or cookies like Gingerbrave and his friends. Speaking of that: the expressions on their faces when they first entered the Spire and saw that Shadow Milk wasn't alone but with someone literally sitting on his lap was priceless. What followed was them shouting at him to free you of whatever kind of brainwashing technique he used, only to have you kissing him and showing them your wedding band as an answer. After that they looked more confused than before but it surely wasn't your problem.

-It took some time for you to get used to his way of talking with the others, you too obviously changed and had to craft a mask to show the others and protect your real self but the difference between when he talked with you and when he interacted with other cookies always managed to leave you speechless. After years it became routine and even kind of funny to listen to him talk in such an exaggerated way, only to ask him something and listen to him change his voice completely to the one you always knew.

-Well needless to say that people can believe that the perfect couple doesn't exist but we all know that the world is indeed full of lies, is it not?

[pretzel-box]

Hi! Hello! How are you doing? I hope you're having a great day. This is the first time I requested something so pls bare with me. So I really like the swap!Sebastian and swap!/payment received reader, so can I request a second part where Sebastian bought readers file and maybe some fluff and comfort, that'd be soooo cute and what comes next is up to you.

Anyways thanks for taking your time in reading this and it's also okay if you ignore this😊😊😊

Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Reverse AU, gn! experiment reader & human sebastian, sequel to previous chapter

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Since the story progresses differently, I tried to at least write the fluff and comfort part after Seb saw the tapes!

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to break down like this, not here, not in front of you. He had always prided himself on being composed, on having a plan. But those tapes… the sight of what you had gone through—the screams, the agony, the helplessness—it had torn through him like a knife. He didn’t know how to cope with the knowledge of your suffering, and now, here you were, laughing so freely, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his heart.

“Ah, there you are!” Your cheerful voice had greeted him when he walked into the shop, his eyes still red and puffy from the tears he had tried to hold back. Your smile was so genuine, so full of light, and it only made the ache in his chest worse. He wanted to protect that light, to shield you from any more pain, but he didn’t know how.

“Look!” You said, holding up the recorder with a playful grin. “I recorded a wall dweller getting hit by Pandemonium. It got squished like a fly.” You played the clip for him like it was some kind of small victory, a moment of dark humor to lighten the mood. But Sebastian couldn’t focus on the video. He could only see you—the real you—behind the cheerful facade.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears again. You noticed the shift in his expression, the way his face crumpled with a pain you couldn’t quite understand. “God, Sebastian,” you teased gently, though your voice was tinged with concern. “Don’t tell me you’re getting emotional over a wall dweller.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent waves. The shame of his breakdown mixed with the overwhelming sadness he felt for you, for everything you’d endured, for every piece of you that had been broken and put back together. He hated that he couldn’t control this, that he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. He felt so raw, so exposed.

You blinked, your teasing smile fading as you realized this wasn’t just some passing moment of sentiment. You stepped closer, your expression softening as you took in the sight of him—Sebastian, your normally composed and snarky companion, now reduced to tears.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. His body stiffened at first, but then he melted into your touch, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. You held him close, your hand stroking the back of his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair. The other hand moved up and down his back, soothing him with gentle, rhythmic movements.

“It’s okay, Solace,” you whispered softly, your voice a calming melody against the storm raging in his mind. “The wall dweller is at a better place.”

Sebastian let out a choked laugh, a mix of a sob and a chuckle, shaking his head against your shoulder. “It’s… it’s not about the damn wall dweller,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Me?” you asked, searching his tear-filled eyes for answers. “What about me?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself enough to speak. “I saw the tapes,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “I saw… what they did to you. What you went through.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your grip on him tightening instinctively. “Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice softening with understanding. “You… you saw those?”

He nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything they did to you. I just… I don’t know how you’re still standing here, smiling like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a mix of sorrow and affection for the man in front of you. You knew the tapes were horrifying—brutal, even—but you had long since come to terms with your past. It was a part of you, yes, but it didn’t define you. Not anymore.

You cupped his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I’m okay, Sebastian. I’m still here. I’m still… me.”

He looked at you with such a mix of awe and disbelief, his heart aching with every beat. “But how?” he whispered. “How can you just… move on from something like that?”

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I have to,” you replied simply. “Because if I let it define me, if I let it break me, then they win. And I refuse to let them have that power over me.”

Sebastian stared at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of admiration and love. He had always been drawn to you, always found himself captivated by your spirit, your strength. But now, more than ever, he realized just how much you meant to him—how much he needed you in his life.

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You smiled softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair. “You’re protecting me now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tighter as if afraid to let go. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what had happened in the past, no matter what horrors you’d both faced, you would face them together. And together, you would heal.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, a small, playful smile tugged at your lips. “Besides,” you added, your tone teasing, “I bet that wall dweller’s in wall heaven now, with all his little wall dweller friends. Don’t you think?”

Sebastian let out a watery laugh, pulling back to look at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“And yet,” you said, grinning up at him, “you’re still here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little more whole. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I am.”

And as you stood there together, holding each other close, you knew that even after Sebastian saw the tapes, he would be alright. Just like you are.

[aventurineswife]

Yooooooo self-aware HSR AU!!!

I would LOVE to know what some characters might think of Reader constantly battling the 50/50s (like how the HSR VAs get together and pull on the banners) with a side of the gacha seemingly favoring Bronya. 😅🤣

Off the top of my head, probably the worst one could be when Reader lost more than seven 50/50s in a row. (Based on past experience. 🫠) And not too long ago, they tried to pull for Sunday when his banner was running and when they saw the Harmony symbol—

—well…no points for guessing who showed up in his place. 😅

And then Reader ended up going all the way to max pity.

Reader: “IS THIS KARMA FOR RUNNING HIM OVER WITH THE ASTRAL EXPRESS!??!?!?!??!”

LMAOOO THIS IS GOLD. 😭😭

Okay, so here's how I think it would happen 🤭 (might not be accurate to the characters, plus idk much about pity and stuffs but I tried from the knowledge I got from yt shorts lol)

Bronya, being the gacha queen, might definitely notice how she keeps showing up in your pulls—especially when she’s not the one you’re aiming for. At first, she’d be gracious, “You’ve summoned me again. I can only assume it’s because you trust in my abilities to lead us to victory.”

But after, like, the fifth time, even she starts getting suspicious. “Is this… intentional? Or is this fate…? Regardless, I’ll fulfill my duties, as always.”

(Meanwhile, March is trying so hard not to laugh in the background: “Bronya AGAIN? You’re doomed!”)

Seven losses in a row, though? That’s when Himeko and Welt step in with some serious concern. “Seven? I’d say the odds are against you, but that’s… statistically impossible. Are you sure the stars aren’t just playing with you?”

“Perhaps this is a reflection of the balance you must maintain across dimensions… or you’re simply cursed.” (Thanks for the pep talk, Grandpa...)

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf is like, “You’re fighting against an algorithm. That’s your first mistake.” And then she offers to “fix” it for you (she can’t, but she enjoys messing with your hopes).

The Harmony symbol flashes, your heart soars, and then… Bronya. AGAIN. The absolute audacity.

Reader: “WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM COME HOME!?”

Bronya, oblivious to your suffering, “I will stand by your side, no matter the circumstances. Was this not what you intended?”

Everyone else is just dying. March is clutching her stomach “HAHAHA you were trying to pull for Sunday, and you got Bronya? AGAIN? Oh, I’m gonna cry—this is too good!” (she would definitely take pictures of you suffering.)

Dan Heng would try to be supportive, offering his trademark calm wisdom, “Perhaps it’s better to focus on what you do have. Bronya is an asset in any situation.” But even he can’t fully hide the slight twitch of amusement at your misfortune.

Now the real kicker: when you lose another 50/50 for Sunday and start yelling about karma for running him over with the Astral Express. EVERYONE stops.

Sunday, if he somehow hears this, “...You… WHAT?” (i kinda wanna hc that these characters aren't actually present during the fights/battle scenes.)

The Trailblazer looks at you like you (more like your screen) just committed war crimes.

Meanwhile, March is choking on her drink, “Wait, you RAN OVER HIM? Like, with the ACTUAL EXPRESS? And now he won’t come home? That’s… yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

Even Himeko raises a brow, “Well… actions do have consequences, as they say.”

You’d swear you hear Kafka’s voice somewhere in the distance, smirking, “Seems like fate is toying with you. What a fascinating little game you’ve got going.”

By the time you hit max pity, the entire Astral Express crew has started following your pulling rituals. March has a notepad, “Alright, you’ve hit 79 pity. This next pull is gonna be the one, I feel it—oh… wait. Nope. That’s another Bronya.”

Pom-Pom is pacing nervously in the background, muttering, “At this rate, the economy of our inventory is going to collapse.”

When you FINALLY pull Sunday, the whole group cheers like it’s a world event. Dan Heng, however, just calmly says, “Perhaps you’ve learned not to anger the stars. Or… the train.”

At the end of it all, Bronya might start feeling awkward about always showing up. If you mention your struggles, she’d quietly apologize, “If I’ve interfered with your plans… I am sorry. I only wanted to be of help to you. Perhaps the stars are telling us something we don’t yet understand.” (Translation: she’s just as confused as you are.)

This AU would honestly be too much fun. Every pull would feel like an event for the Astral Express, and I can already imagine March becoming your emotional support bestie through it all. 😭🙏