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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 5 months ago

Note

meh why not. Honkai Star Rail X reader incorrect quotes when you have the time because I forgot you wrote for them.

I had a blast with this. Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons for reading these over.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Natasha: You need to stop drinking so many energy drinks. Seele: You're one to talk. Natahsha: The last patient who refused to stop drinking energy supplements after I suggested it died. Seele: Oh no. Natasha: In a car crash. You: That sounds unrelated. Natasha: I’m the one who crashed it. Do not disobey me.

You: Why do you two like being out in the rain so much? Screwllum: I like splashing in the puddles and rain is just fun! Ruan Mei: I'm trying to get hit by lightning for my research.

Sparkle: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Sparkle: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Sparkle: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? You: …This is Monopoly.

You and Asta: Madam Herta, help! We did a bad thing! Herta: Does it affect me? You and Asta: Not technically— Herta: Then suffer in silence.

You: Do you know a turtle's greatest weakness? Ruan Mei: How slow they are? You: No, their only weakness is that they can get stuck on their back. Ruan Mei: What if you taped two turtles together? They'd be unstoppable, correct? You: … Ruan Mei: … Ruan Mei: …I will be back shortly You: Ruan Mei, NO—

You: Died and came back as a cowboy, I call that reintarnation. Archeon: Laughs -Elsewhere- Boothill: I suddenly feel like strangling someone.

You: I need some help dealing with a problem, do you have any suggestions? Jingliu: Sword. You: Do you have any other suggestions? Jingliu: …Two swords.

You: Do you have any idea how many laws you're breaking on a daily basis? Silver Wolf: One? You: No. Silver Wolf: Two? You: No. Silver Wolf: …Is it one?

You: why are you following me? Kafka: because we’re dating now You: okay… what about the rest of you? Kafka: we’re a package deal Silver Wolf, walking next to the rest of the Stellaron hunters while burying her face in a game and Blade maneuvering her to avoid hazards like light poles: buy one idiot, get several free

You: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Firefly: Sure! You: What's your favorite color? Firefly, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Will you go out on a date with me?

Kafka: I love making short jokes about Wolfie. You: They go right over her head. Silver Wolf, standing on a step stool: Fuck you.

Blade, reading the note in the lunch packed for him by you and Kafka: the path to inner peace starts with four words Blade: not my fucking problem Blade: Narrows Eyes I think this one is for Firefly

Firefly, reading the note in the lunch packed for her by you and Kafka: Please, for the love of the Aeons, be good. We know your love language is acts of service. We also know your only skill is stabbing people. Firefly: Tilts Head To The Side I… believe this is for blade…

You: I love my personal space You point to the Silver Wolf latched onto your back You: this is Wolfie. Wolfie also loves my personal space.

You: Why are you smiling Blade? Blade: Am I not allowed to be happy? Kafka: Of course you are Bladie… It’s just that you being happy, usually means someone’s lost their life… or a limb.

Pom Pom: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. The Express Crew, desperately trying to avoid spring cleaning after the last "Incident": … Pom Pom: Choo Choo motherfuckers, come out already.

Stelle, waving at the crew as she steps onto the express after being splattered by a small army of stings: hello. Himeko: i- Welt: we literally saw you die. Dan Heng: you died. March 7th: you're dead. Stelle, shrugging: death is a social construct.

You and Stelle: some fools be like “I play games to escape my responsibilities” then pick tank or healer Welt: In my greatest fantasies I am able to help people Dan Heng: In my fantasies I can prevent people from being hurt, even if it means I get hurt in their stead Himeko: In my fantasies I don’t have to know how to aim March 7th: In my fantasies I control who lives and who dies

You standing at the top of the stairs: What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Ruan Mei: I accidentally fell down. Herta: RUAN MEI PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HER part of our rent! Screwllum: Ruan Mei bet me fifty Credits that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than she did falling down it, so I slid down the banister to get my money. Dr. Ratio: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and several galaxies away and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Screwllum.

You: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Ruan Mei: They do. Herta: …Why did you say that with such certainty?

Dr. Ratio, talking to You and Topaz: Well, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Aventurine do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. You and Topaz: … Aventurine: I know I should be offended, but he's not wrong.

Silver Wolf talking about you: How do you feel about Them, Firefly? Firefly, vibrating at a frequency high enough to shatter a glass: I love Them a normal amount.

You and the Stellaron Hunters sitting in jail together You: So who should we call? Silver Wolf: I’d call Blade, but I feel safer in jail

You: When do you usually go to sleep? Blade: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the Aeons. Kafka: My body will pass out when it's ready Kafka and Blade: high five You: angry staring (edited)

Firefly: Good News! The store had blueberry bagels! Bad news, the cream cheese died… or became more alive… It is the wrong amount of alive.

Tingyun, after being caught lying in bed with your shirt on: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. You: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Yukong: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? You: Peonies, why? Yukong: … You: Were you going to get me flowers? Yukong: … You: … Yukong, under her breath: It's a possibility…

Quingque: I owe you one. You: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Blade: walks in to see you and Firefly sitting on the couch facing away from each other. Blade: I know I will more than likely regret asking, but what's going on there? Firefly, gaming: They're having a fight. Blade, confused: Then why are they holding hands? Kafka, playing with her Cat: Fighting makes them sad.

Natasha: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? You, whispering to The Moles: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? The Moles: Because we have little hands. You: *Nods Sagely Before Turning To Natasha* You, with a smile: Its because The Moles have little hands

You, when Wildfire was just starting: Natasha, sweetie, the love of my life, all you have is a handful of impoverished shantytowns paying us protection money. We're basically slum lords.

Natasha: And what's the main rule we have? Julian: Don't dare The Leader Of The Moles, Dark Hook The Great to do stupid stuff. You: And why's that? Hook with her head stuck between two stair rails: Because I have no regard for my personal well being.

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slutforalastor · 8 months ago

Text

Confessional

Human Priest Alastor has a particularly committed parishioner with an unholy request. NOT APPROPRIATE FOR THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Tags: SO MANY CHURCH REFERENCES, light voyeurism, temptation, bloodletting, church AU I guess if you wanna get technical, way too many big words for plotless smut

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

You kneel before a shadow, crossing yourself. You know the shadow's face, having spent countless Sundays smiling from your lips and weeping from between your legs during his service. You know that he can see you, perhaps even recognizes you. You're aware of the purpose of confessional, the supposed tenants guiding the practice, but you are not here to absolve yourself. You seek indulgence, not purification.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been eleven months since my last confession. These are my sins. I harbor impure thoughts, thoughts that I know have been given to me by the Lord. He is guiding us towards a union, perhaps to conceive, but for some holy purpose, regardless. There can be no other reason why you'd occupy my every waking thought, why my maiden's bed feels so cold and empty, as though incomplete without your body next to mine. Each and every night, I sin in that bed, allowing my own hand to guide me to an incomplete release. It never gives me any feeling of blessing, only of deeper desire to blaspheme. My soul is forever lost without your faithful shepherding, Father."

The shadow moves, clears its throat, no trace of emotion to be gleaned from his intonation.

"My dear child, you seem lost, confused. As a man I am flattered, perhaps even humbled, by this confession. But you must hold steady against these impure delusions, for God has placed me on a different path."

His rebuke only serves to hasten your desire. You feel yourself laden with honeyed need, leaking against the inside of your thighs through your underwear. You know he can see you kneeling, prostrating yourself before the judgment of your holy superior. Still on your knees, you lean back, hiking up the fabric of your skirt, pushing your hips up to present your ruined panties. "Holy Father, you are a servant of the Lord, are you not? Would you deny that one of your flock is in need? Would you leave them to temptation in solitude, with only their hands, the devil's playthings, for companionship?"

His voice betrays the first sign of will being tested. "This could just as easily be a test, a bit of trickery from the Devil himself."

"Who better to rid me of devilish desire than one who speaks on God's behalf? Who baptizes the young, unifies lovers, grants last rites to the condemned? Serve your Lord and banish this Devil from my loins, if you be pious, if you be merciful."

His voice is trembling now, thick with an intent you had hoped to provoke. You are intriguing him, winning him over. Summoning your courage, you draw your underwear down to your ankles, clumsily preening your sex the same way you have been whenever the heat between your legs burns like Hellfire. "See for yourself how the Lord makes me a conduit. Would you call this the will of the Devil? The need of a woman for a man?"

"I have taken an oath..." he stutters, choking on his own words.

"An oath to serve your parishioners... Would you bear witness to sin, knowing you can make it holy?" you bleat, the lamb on the altar, bound by ropes fastened to your soul. The Priest stands, and you can see his shadow making the mark of the cross, muttering a prayer to himself. Your self-defilement doesn't even slow, the low, wet sounds of hungry flesh accepting your phallic substitute the only sound in the confessional. In another moment, you hear the door opening, and your savior stands framed in the light of the jamb.

"Bless you, Father," you moan. He shuts the door, and in the dimness, you capture the full depth of his radiance. His brown hair drapes in front of his eyes, standing as a buffer between those nearly-black irises and the small circular frames that grace the bridge of his nose. A nervous sweat shimmers on his dark skin. His cassock is disheveled, his silver cross hung up on one of the higher buttons, collar greyed at the edges from sweat.

"We must make haste to rid you of this curse," he breathes, tugging at his collar. Thinking on its symbolism, he detaches it entirely, leaving it hanging on the doorknob. With rough strength, he brings you to the chair one could use to confess face-to-face, bringing your arousal level with him when he drops to his knees. He inhales, something within that bouquet seeming to pique his interest. "You reek of unholy desire."

"It has tormented me, Father."

"I can see now what you mean. It would be irresponsible to leave you in such a state. I shall grant you this mercy, my child. God will heal you through me."

With a slight tilt of his head, he partakes in your communion, his lips brushing over the outermost of your folds, murmuring a prayer against the electrified nerves. You can feel every syllable evoked against your body, sending ripples of heaven cascading through your system. You are certain that God's holy presence is being imparted from the teasing edges of his lips into your body. His tongue parts from between his pursed, muttering lips, lapping at the inside of your sex, searching for something buried deeper still. Your hands dare to caress his head, guiding him towards the spot he seeks. Charting into fresh territory, he stakes claim to it, his eager tongue seeking out places you've yet to even map yourself. Each press of it is a blessing, the burning ache in your flesh the doubtless throes of a demon being flayed from your soul.

"My dear, I'm beginning to wonder if I misjudged. Your taste is divine."

Your fingers dig into his thick locks, pressing him to persist even further, to reach past the purgatory of your desire. You feel his nose grinding against your most sensitive spot, something you have never had a name for, feeling every time he inhales and exhales, his mouth far too preoccupied with more concerning matters. You are fighting to keep your carnal affectations from becoming any louder than a whining wail you smother in the small of your throat, lest it be loosed completely unrestrained.

"You're doing well to keep your voice lowered," he praises you. "You are a true servant of your Lord."

"I-I am in his service," you affirm, your words snaring every time his tongue darts against your walls.

"Your dedication deserves to be rewarded," and he pushes himself as far as the limitations of flesh permit, lodging his lapping extremity so firmly within that you startle nearly upright, sharp nails that bite against the fabric of your clothes urging you back down. "He says 'be still and know that I am God.'"

You groan against the scripture being branded on your innards, a new sensation creeping across the tensed muscles of your legs. With a muffled moan, he is baptized in your release, and he offers a satisfied sound of approval. Your legs quake against the ceaseless undulating of his attentions, finally extricating himself when he's had his fill of you. He runs the long, thin thing that just concluded making a mess of your insides over his glistening grin, still slick from your consecration. Your focus drifts downward, to the crook that will shepherd you to salvation tenting the fabric of his soutane.

"Traces of habitation still remain, my child. We must take measures to save your spirit." He undoes the lower buttons of his robe, exposing himself to you, as he would have been in Eden. You can feel it against you, afire with purifying heat, sliding against your sopping entrance with anticipation. "Accept these rites."

"Bless me, Father," you whine, grinding yourself against him.

"Please, dear, call me Alastor." It's not permission; it's a demand. He waits, poised against you.

"Please give me your blessing, Alastor."

His lips curl into a grin, his canines so jagged and long that they're the first teeth you see. "God answers all prayers in good time." With a shove, he enters you, your teeth clenching, your breath shorting at the feeling of this union. He can't help but let a pleasured grunt leave his lips, and he catches your eyes as the last inch of him slips inside, brushing an errant strand of hair from your eyes. You feel cold, flushed at the overwhelming relief of finally being face-to-face with what you'd thought could only be in a fantasy. He gives a thrust, testing the waters, shaking your faith. You whimper against the force of it, still growing accustomed to the sensation of being taken. "Do you feel the sin drying up? The demonic need being purged?" Alastor wonders, driving himself into you with ever-increasing force, his restraint abandoned. "In its place will be holy admiration, a want to submit, as all of God's good creatures must possess."

"I will be a good creature," you promise.

"The best their ever was," Alastor croons, his jagged incisors hunting for the soft of your neck, carving runes against the submissive skin, seas of red pooling in the canyons. "Will your blood run black, as a demon's, or red, like the dust of the Earth? You have the allure of a succubus, but the taste of a virgin." His nails ribbon your collarbone, leaving oozing trails like spilled wine. He partakes of this communion with the same vigor as before, drinking it like an elixir. Your nervous hands grasp against his back, enfeebled fingers digging into the fabric of his clothing. Through all of this, his rutting has never slowed, increasing in desperation when he samples your blood. When he pulls away, you can see it trickling against his teeth, his tongue dragging over the surface to crudely clean them.

"I have dreamed of this, Alastor."

"Our lord works in mysterious ways," he assures you, clawed fingers still tracing thin rivulets across your skin. "I am nearly at my limit," he pants, burying himself against you. His thrusts finally slow, each push against you deliberate, purposeful. With his body laid against yours, his mouth is laid by your ear, and you can hear every facet of his breathing, every pant, moan, and inhale he makes broadcasting into your brain, the only sound you can hear. You are as close as he is, and you wrap yourself around him as he pumps into you one final time, his holy fire coating your insides, his assured breaths becoming high-pitched whines as he spasms against you, driving you to your own climax. It is nothing like what you've made yourself feel; it sends shockwaves through the taut fibers of your lower half, makes you cry out in uncontrollable lust, leaving your limbs clenched around Alastor as the last of his climax is left spilt within. You feel his chest heave with a deeply drawn breath, his sigh in your ear scattering chills across you. "Do you feel purified, dear?"

"I worry that I will have further need of your services, Alastor."

He pulls away from you, his smile sadistic yet sincere. "The clergy lives to serve, after all."

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #Priest!Alastor #Human!Alastor

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doyoulikethis-videogame-song · 2 months ago

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Ask Masterpost 10/12/2024

I will be answering all the BLOG RELATED asks I have received since opening my inbox here :). Going forward, this is how all asks will be answered (if they are not time dependent or something). I will make a new post with new asks every saturday.

my friends and i have been including youtube links in our submissions. is that helpful or annoying?

It's helpful! Thank you :)

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Have you gotten a lot of repeat submissions? Like, songs requested by multiple people? If so, what’s the most requests you’ve gotten for a single song? (You don’t need to say what song it is if it’s one you haven’t posted yet)

I don't remember the name, but I've received a song from 'In Stars and Time' about seven times now

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I submitted a song from an indie game listing the author as the composer, but then I realised that's not exactly true, as all the music in the game is from a public free gallery. because of that, there's no official upload on youtube. would that still be ok? p.s. thank you for your work, I've come to really love this blog and i look forward to the new polls every day 💕

I'm going to say no, even though the song is in a video game it's not technically intended for the video game itself. I'm curious as to what game this is though.

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@kaerran said: Speaking of which: I avoided submitting a game earlier because the only versions I found on a quick search were entire-soundtrack-as-one-video and I wanted to make things easier on you. Is it okay if I submit my mid-90s games even if they don't have nice convenient Youtube links?

Of course that's okay, I'll find a way to work around it even if I have to crop the specific song out myself.

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Say a song that's made for a game and is in said game gets an official release of an alternative version that *isn't* in a game. (Ex: an extended version or a version with vocals) I assume that the in-game version of the song is acceptable, while an alternative version that isn't in any games are not. Asking because I've already submitted a couple in-game versions of songs that have official extended/vocal versions that aren't in-game.

Both are acceptable, for two reasons:

It's an official, original release/remix, presumably on an official album, for a video game, so it is technically a form of VGM even if it's not in the video game itself

I wouldn't be allowed to post the official NieR remix albums if I excluded these types of songs

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@moonlight-fox said: Hey. Question for when you reopen submissions - For songs that have lyrics, do you want the name of the lead vocalist as well as the composer, or just the composer?

If you know both, feel free to include both! Specifying would help a ton as well. Submitting the artists is optional as I'll almost always go verify it myself but it is very much appreciated.

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are there any games with more notable soundtracks that you're surprised HAVEN'T been submitted yet (if any)?

As of writing this, I haven't seen a single song from Persona 5.

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Hi, love the blog! Is there any way you could tag similar series? Like, tagging all the soulsborne games with a from software tag, that sort of thing? If not, it’s cool, I would just find it useful. Have a great day, keep up the awesome work! <3

I started doing this when I saw this ask, I hope the way I've categorized things is good so far! If anyone has any suggestions for further categorization feel free to send them in my asks (within reason, lol)

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can you put the number of the song in the anonymized title? would help us keep track of which song we're listening to if we're also scrolling

I also started doing this as soon as I saw this ask, thank you for the excellent idea.

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Are songs from live-service video games that have ended service permitted? I'm guessing that the answer is yes because I think I saw Dragalia Lost here but I just wanted to be sure before preparing songs to submit next month. Also, I noticed in your pinned post that it still says "submissions are always allowed" - since the rules are different now, you might wanna change that just in case some ppl get confused :3

Yes, songs from live service games that have ended are permitted :) (provided I can access the songs somehow of course)

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are we allowed to submit official live versions of video game songs? does its availability online matter (like how the splatoon concerts were officially uploaded, but the kirby 30th anniversary concert was only livestreamed once and has to be pirated now)?

If it's on an official album, I'm going to say yes. So no to the kirby concert -- but if the splatoon songs are on an album, they're allowed.

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i cant find if youve answered something like this already, but whats the verdict for songs thatare in video games, but werent made for them? like for example the inclusion of pre-existing low roar songs in death stranding.

As of now, I'll only accept songs that were intentionally made to be included in the OST/album/music of a video game series -- so no preexisting non-VGM songs or anything like that.

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out of interest, how far along the submission queue has been posted? when were the most recent posted songs submitted?

3.8% of the entire submissions I have received have been posted. Everything in active vote right now was submitted in July, hence the need to severely restrict submissions...

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are we allowed to ask if certain games/series are in the queue? because i cannot for the life of me remember if i submitted something a while ago and dont want to accidentally send it again when submissions reopen ^_^;

You can DM me for this as to not publicly post any spoilers :')

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@disgustedorite said: Um, when were the most recent songs submitted? I submitted a batch a while back when submissions were open and there's been no sign of any of them...I hope Tumblr didn't eat it @_@

Tumblr may have eaten it, but it's probably just as likely that I got a million gazillion submissions ahead of you :')

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genuine question did someone submit the entire destiny franchise at once or is it that popular and i just never see anything about it

Yes, in the very early days of this blog -- about the tenth submission -- someone submitted ~30 destiny songs.

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Do you accept music from mods? I mean, obviously you dont accept anything right now, but ykwim

Yes, as long as it's an original composition/remix :)

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@woolooism said: has any song won with any of the "i don't like it" results? if no, which one has the biggest relative percentage of it?

I'll have to check, but I think (off the top of my head) the song with the most "I don't like it" results is the Ao Oni chase theme

Edit: Apparently, it is actually this song from Lisa the Joyful!

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@violetsquare111 said: i'm curious, do you know when exactly the currently-running polls were submitted? curious just how far off mine are lol. (but i would guess mine are still a few months out based on the insane number of submissions you shared. 3000... oh god...)

July, so... yours are far off :')

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Do songs created for an event in a community engine driven rhythm game (i.e. original songs for custom charts in a rhythm game/community driven game engine) count for submissions? If so, how will they be counted?

I think I'm going to need an example of this scenario because this seems REALLY highly specific, haha

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A suggestion. When a song has lyrics, use a video that shows the lyrics in the reveal post. Please and thank you.

I'll do my best, but these aren't always the easiest to find, and I try to use songs from official sources as much as possible to prevent the risk of the video getting copyright stricken off the playlist.

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@only-blogging-2-save-rock-n-roll said: Would you ever consider doing joke polls for April fools day? Stuff like those MIDI remakes of song from Franchise A in the style of Franchise B

Probably not, only because it's not an official remix. I may post funny songs depending on submissions.

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would you be willing to maybe make a tag for just the polls, even if they're already over? i like going through them all without knowing what game they're from and i also dont keep super on top of checking this blog for new polls. thanks!!

There is one! It's #closed vote :)

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@sparrow-va said: Hi! I've had the hare-brained idea of possibly making some Youtube vids of listening to & reacting/trying to identify songs from this blog starting from the oldest submissions for my channel (LaserBearCat Gaming), is that something you'd be okay with? Obvs we would credit & link your blog for the source of the tracks c:

Go right ahead!

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I noticed the rules about submission has changed to one song per period per person, which I can totally understand given the amount and when trying to keep a fair chance for everyone will this rule be applied retrospectively too? just wondering because I had been submitting more than one song and just would like to know if I'd need to submit them again one per month now if I would like them to be considered as a submission eventually Also thanks for running this blog it's become one of my favourites and I check it out almost daily

No, It's not going to be applied retroactively -- I don't even know if I'd be able to enforce that because the sheet doesn't record who submitted what (right now).

#vgpollasks #vgmpaskpost

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forasecondtherewedwon · 5 months ago

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After the Horse Has Bolted

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: T Word Count: 1899

Summary: Though they escaped execution, Guildford continues to struggle with his transformations and, worse, with dreams of losing Jane. A frank conversation with Susannah might help more than he expects it to.

He loves her like this, watching her move about the camp at twilight. She isn't the only person here with medical knowledge, and she lacks the experience to deal with more severe battle wounds, and some of the Ethians are steadfastly distrustful, but there are enough willing to let Jane close, and enough minor wounds, and, generally, enough patients to go around. Her skills are badly needed.

As Jane tends to people, Guildford feels a bit useless. Though he did try to help, he quickly realized it was all too unfamiliar for him to be of much use. Besides, these people don't extend the same welcome to him as they do Jane. He doesn't have her bedside manner, he supposes. Fuck them for finding him slightly jumpy and suspicious after one of their own (technically, one of his own, but fuck) attempted to murder him with iron manacles. But he thinks this without heat. These people are their allies—almost their only allies—and he's trying to see what Jane sees.

Mostly, he just likes seeing Jane. Jane in the early morning, scavenging in the woods for medicinal plants. Jane winning over strangers by sitting at their side to cut the thread of their stitches with her teeth instead sitting on the throne to sign a document they may never feel the benefit of. Jane alive. Guildford hasn't told her yet that he sees her differently when he closes his eyes. He sees her pristine white dress across the square, the black strip that blinds her. In his dreams, he watches helplessly as she kneels and the axe swings down. That's when he wakes up screaming her name.

Yeah, maybe that's another reason these people feel a little uneasy around him.

Except Susannah. Susannah's been marvellous. They've sort of met before—him below the stairs with the beautiful woman he would next see walking up the aisle of a church, her rushing down those stairs to warn Archer about the guards, then the night of the attempted assassination outside the old Ethian camp—but Susannah makes more of their acquaintance than it really is. She does it so the others will trust him, because they clearly trust her. They listen to her. It isn't long before Guildford learns it was Susannah who mustered the rescue party that saved his and Jane's lives, though he suspects as much even before it's confirmed. He sees their bond. He's grateful for it.

How grateful though, is the thing, when Susannah plonks herself down on the log where Guildford's seated, and follows his eyes, smirking to catch him gazing at Jane.

"D'you ever let your wife ride you?"

He can't look at her as he responds, "Just the once, escaping execution."

"Ah, y'know that's not what I mean."

"No, I don't know that," Guildford says stubbornly.

Susannah hunches forward and catches his eye.

"How come you're blushin' then?"

"Piss off."

"No."

He looks at her, and she's grinning. While Jane was raised a lady and Susannah supported herself in service, Guildford's found them to be cut from a very similar cloth. They're both unflinchingly bold when they want to be. Cautious, at other times, but not timid. Not everyone can tell the difference. He's been learning Jane, and is beginning to know Susannah, and he can tell she's teasing him for a reason. It might be friendly, or a protective test of Jane's husband's mettle, or something else. Whatever it is, Guildford realizes he's probably better off not trying to shut her out. They're persistent, these two women.

"Want to know why I'm asking?" Susannah prompts.

"I'm guessing you'll tell me."

"Very good!" She shifts closer and lowers her voice. "It's 'cause I've heard you screamin' your feckin' head off the last three nights."

"And you thought Jane was responsible?"

"Yeah, I hoped she was ridin' you like there's no tomorrow. Two reasons for that. You want 'em?"

"Terrific," Guildford says flatly.

"One," Susannah says, holding up a finger to show the count, "because back when Jane and I lived under the same roof, I was beginning to have serious concerns that she was never gonna let herself enjoy herself. It was a virgin you took to your marriage bed, Guildford, no question."

"You are nosy, aren't you?" He scowls at her, but Susannah stares back, unfazed.

"It's the same for her with me. If your hair wasn't curled already, she'd have stories to tell you that'd do the job."

"Please just get to your second reason."

Susannah sighs.

"If it's not Jane, somethin's troublin' you, and it can't go unaddressed. We can't have that. You'll either attract trouble to our camp or somebody already livin' in it'll stab you themselves to keep you quiet. Probably your wife."

Guildford sags. He knows she's right—the last thing he wants to be is a liability. He doesn't want to get anyone else hurt or killed. Especially Jane. Jane, who was sentenced to death for marrying him. Jane, who stood in the fire with him, the bond between them even stronger than the rope that wouldn't split. She would die for him. Without question, without thought, without hesitation. But he wouldn't survive getting her killed.

Susannah has fallen silent, apparently waiting for him to suggest a solution. Guildford doesn't know if this is an Ethian thing or just a Susannah thing: allowing that the person with the problem probably knows themselves best. He thinks it's likely that she's wrong in his case, believing himself the picture of stunted self-knowledge and repressed memories. He takes a deep breath. He can't be that man anymore. It doesn't do anyone any good, himself included.

"I keep dreaming she was executed. You and the Ethians don't come, and I can't get free of the ropes, and I see her beheaded." His own throat feels painfully thick as he forces the words out.

"I can see why that'd be botherin' you."

"It nearly happened," Guildford agrees.

"That's not why. I don't think it's about Jane."

"Of course it is!"

But Susannah's shaking her head.

"It's not her who's powerless, it's you. In the dream, you're tethered. Outside the dream, what is it you feel you can't control?"

Slowly, Guildford understands what she's getting at. He answers, "My transformation. My Ethianism." He narrows his eyes at Susannah. "You're very insightful."

"I'm not, actually. You just have a very straightforward problem: mental impotence. See it all the time in men. Tragic affliction."

He catches sight of her smirk and wants to shove her off the log.

"Have the two of you been able to fuck since the near-execution, by the way?" Susannah asks.

"Thank you for the advice, doctor," Guildford says sarcastically, head cocked to one side, "but that is really none of your concern. Try meddling in your own relationship."

"What relationship would that be?"

He frowns.

"Are you and Archer not...?"

"Archer?!" Susannah catches herself and continues more softly. "In his dreams. Not to be insensitive," she adds, making Guildford roll his eyes. "But no, definitely not. Trust me, if he'd been lucky enough to have me in his bed, he wouldn't have been lookin' at..."

It's far too obvious that Susannah has just caught herself again, but Guildford's glad she did. His trust in his wife is absolute. That doesn't mean he would appreciate Archer attempting to come between them. He rises, deciding to forget Archer and focus on Jane.

"Try the sex thing," Susannah says on their parting. "It might help, is all!"

"Try the minding your own business thing!"

Guildford actually does plan on trying something thanks to this conversation, but it's not sex. (Yet. Later? Gods, yes.)

He doesn't try to sleep that night, not yet. He lies on his back in the dark, listening to the low murmur of conversation from the lookouts tending the campfire, to the sound of his own even breathing. He stares up at the trees, their shapes black against the blue-black night. Sometimes, he stares past them at the stars.

Before dawn, Guildford gently rouses Jane from where she sleeps beside him. Between treating the injured and being startled awake by his screams, she hasn't been getting as much rest as she needs, but he hopes she'll understand. Taking her hand, he leads her to a clearing a short distance from the camp. Someplace they'll be able to see the sky change colour ahead of sunrise. They walk with soft steps. The yawn Jane can't stifle has the round, open notes of birdsong. Soon, real birds begin to sing. He wonders whether any Ethians are among them.

Gradually, everything brightens.

"Stand here," Guildford says, taking Jane's hands in his plea, then dropping them and backing off to a safe distance.

She doesn't argue. He's told her about his mother.

Before the light of day can rush across the horizon, Guildford closes his eyes and concentrates. There's no risk of imminent death to compel him now. He has to know if he can do it anyway. Instead of resisting thoughts of the past, he permits himself to recall how it feels to change, concentrating until the sensation is alive in him. Instead of disconnecting from the present, he inhales the earthy scent of the forest, shifts his boots on the ground, knows without looking that Jane is standing where he left her, waiting for him, trusting him.

He changes just before daybreak.

In this form, his hearing is keener, keen enough to pick up Jane's quiet gasp from across the clearing. His own steady breathing expands his strong lungs, drawing in details of his environment that are beyond his human senses. What he likes best is Jane's smile as she approaches him, the soothing strokes of her hands on his face. He stands there on four legs, enjoying her gentle touch and the heat of the sun on his flank, then, closing his eyes to the world once more, Guildford changes back.

He's stumbling forward into Jane's arms before he realizes he never moved away from her before trying to transform. Obviously, his human form is smaller and therefore less of a hazard, but Guildford isn't convinced that was the ruling instinct. It felt more like... he just knew he could do it. He was sure of himself, in that body and in this one, and in whatever he is during the fleeting moment in between.

"Guildford! How did you do that?" she demands, full of awe and urgent curiosity. "I haven't seen you control it since the night we escaped the Tower!"

Yes, that's true. After bearing her away from that place, he turned back into a man. That's how he was when the Ethians found them, and how he remained through the night. At dawn, he despaired, once again becoming a horse against his will. It persisted. Day, horse. Night, man. The terrible dreams. This morning has been Guildford's first time taking the reins, so to speak. It's a colossal relief, and he looks lovingly into Jane's eyes, knowing she understands that much, even if she can't yet explain the rest.

It seems to him that the best words to say are, "I've always wanted to kiss you at daybreak."

"That's a lot of effort for a kiss," Jane observes.

"Then you'd better make it worth it," he retorts with a grin.

And he holds her, and she does.

#look at me being so chill writing a t-rated fic #don't get used to it #my writing #My Lady Jane #Jane Grey #Guildford Dudley #Jane x Guildford #My Lady Jane fic #My Lady Jane spoilers #MLJ

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leresq · 1 year ago

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Fnaf movie notes, spoilers ahead:

First off, fuck Scott Cawthon, let's just say I didn't watch the movie in theaters or on a streaming service.

What I liked:

Matthew Lillard actually looks like William Afton

The "Talking in Your Sleep" cameo was the best one of the movie, next to "I have a theory"

Cory was funny, as expected

I liked how they made the animatronics just kids, they want a friend.

The way the animatronics moved was great, I just wish we could have gotten a foxy running scene.

The cinematography and set design inside the pizzeria was great, and everywhere outside felt very real.

The animatronics were cute when I was supposed to like them and foreboding when I was supposed to be scared of them. I don't know if they physically changed the suits but it works.

Mike's actor was actually pretty good at looking distressed or upset.

I just want to hug the animatronics they are so cute 🥺🥺

The animatronics weren't sadistic, when they killed someone it was because they were trying to get them out or away. Just like if an actual little kid had that power, they wouldn't be cruel or even want to kill anyone, they just don't understand their own power

There actually were five nights!

Springtrap wiping the knife is a reference to Scream, where Matthew Lillard played Ghostface, who is known for wiping their knife after using it.

BALLOON BOY

What I didn't like:

You're telling me they named their main character Mike and they didn't have Afton go "MIKE! MICHAEL!!! MICHAEL DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!!!!! *MICHAEL!*

Vanessa was a nothing burger, even when her motivation was revealed it wasn't that good. I think it would have been better if they set up that she was working with Afton

Golden Freddy was everywhere but they didn't namedrop the kid once, and it was so inconsistent. He's here, he's not here. I'm assuming it's a combination of Cassidy and the Crying Child.

Afton's connection to the story is flimsy. Why was he pretending to be Raglan? I'm assuming it's so he could get night guards to toy with, that's why the animatronics killed the intruders but not Mike.

It's kind of weird thinking about the logic of how Afton killed Mike's brother, and gave his daughter the plane. Just seems a little bit of a stretch.

Even though I hate excessive gore, I thought there wasn't half as much violence as there should have been. I guess the PG-13 rating constricted a lot.

It takes a broom to activate what I'm assuming is a Circus Baby reference springlock, but Afton can jump around in Spring Bonnie.

The only Purple Guy reference we got was a purple tie. They should have made the security vest purple.

Questions

How is the cupcake sentient?

How does Afton control the kids?

Who cleaned up the blood of the four intruders? I'm guessing Afton but I wish they'd made it more clear

Why didn't Afton send out the animatronics on the first night? Even if he wanted to kill Mike, he seems like the type to psychologically torture people beforehand.

Why was there an "it's me" note? I get the reference, but why? Is Mike's brother here?

What's the Freddy mask with the saws inside? I know Afton uses it to kill people but why does it exist?

Why does Balloon Boy exist? Do the toy animatronics exist in this universe??

Why doesn't foxy have a tail?????

Favourite character: Foxy

If we get a sequel I hope we only get one or two. I don't want a whole cinematic universe. Finding ways to watch 12 movies 'other ways' will get complicated.

Also when the casting was revealed, I didn't know who Matthew Lillard was and someone told me he played live action Shaggy, so I didn't know he played fuckin STU FROM SCREAM until I watched the movie, so another cameo technically, just only for me

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf spoilers #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf movie review #fnaf 1 #freddy #freddy fazbear #chica #bonnie #foxy #william afton #springtrap #fuck scott cawthon #matthew lillard #stu macher

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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Why do people still go to Mostro Lounge if Azul enslaved 225 students? Like how is he not out of bussines

I DON’T KNOW 😭 I’ve never understood that part???? And how easily everything is resolved????

The end of book 3 tries to hand-wave it off as, “well, Azul implemented a point card system/promotion that was just so good that it compensated for all the negative rumors about the bad things he actually did” but like 💀 even then, I never bought it…

Consider the prices plus how the point card system and its perks work:

Assuming that you need 50 points to get that consultation with Azul + the items listed here are the only ones that qualify toward the point system, that means you'd be spending at LEAST 250 thaumarks (which I'm going to consider the equivalent to 250 USD for the sake of simplicity), if not 300 thaumarks. That's not including any potential tax or tip they may charge on top of the cost of the actual menu items. If you're going for the three-point card perks, you're easily spending 750 to 900 bucks on the Mostro Lounge. Maybe that seems like chump change to some of the rich, privileged kids that attend NRC but that's still a considerable amount of money to spend at one establishment... I'll concede that the argument can be made that this investment is "worth it" because of Azul's consultation being such a useful thing. It seems like you could ask him for anything, so long as its within his means. So yeah, it’s true, his services can be an extremely powerful boon to have on your side (assuming, of course, that he's capable of granting your wish and you agree to the terms set). The issue then becomes a matter of trust between client and Azul.

I don't know about you, but I cannot believe that after Azul tricked and enslaved 220+ students (over a QUARTER of the total student body) with his promises that everyone would so easily forgive what he did and suddenly trust that he wouldn't try pulling similar shit again. And since I doubt any mob would drop 250-300 thaumarks in one day just to get the consultation ASAP (but a bunch of food he can't eat), the points system would be a long term commitment... meaning mobs go into this establishment regularly, knowing that it's run by a guy that would double cross them if it benefitted him, weirdly trusting that he wouldn't???????? Trusting that he had a sudden change of heart and wouldn’t revert back to his old ways???????? Not holding grudges??????? Nah, I don't buy that one bit. AZUL'S REP WOULD BE IN THE TOILET, AND I DON'T THINK A GOOD DEAL ON EATERY LOYALTY WOULD REVERSE THAT... At that point, the mobs are practically begging to be scammed… Also???? The only thing that Crowley technically told Azul he can't do is to take anyone's powers 💀 so literally nothing is stopping Azul from trying to one-up or cheat his clients out of other things... Agreements like the one where he tried to claim Ramshackle Dorm for himself would still be totally valid under Crowley's new but poorly defined restrictions. Why doesn't the headmaster just forbid Azul from running his shady side business altogether 😭 or at least revoke the manager position from Azul?????? The school gets 10% of the lounge’s profits, so maybe Crowley doesn’t want to lose that income—but if that’s the case, why not just put new management in charge and still reap the monetary benefits??? Even just upping the percentage the school takes from their earnings would be more of a punishment…

I'm about to cancel this man on Magicam for his crimes/j I guess this is easily explained by the mob students all being dumb/arrogant, but that’s such a cop-out 😭 My only hope is that volume 3 of the light novel adaptation will go more in-depth about the post-OB backlash Azul experiences (similar to how it did for volume 1) 💦 because the way the game presents it, it feels like he and the Mostro Lounge made an almost immediate comeback 😭 which isn’t realistic at all…

I guess all I have left to say is…

#twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #Yuu #twst light novel #twisted wonderland light novel #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories #Dire Crowley

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 3]

Sometimes you just miss your chance. Sometimes you have to take it.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: I did not count sue me I guess

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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It's not uncommon for him not to see you much during his work. But today, especially considering how close you've gotten to him and how comfortable, it's weird to him that he doesnt see you at all.

"Jungkook.." Hana says, catching his attention as he mops the floor of the lunch area where all hybrids had just eaten a few minutes prior. "Do you have a moment?" she asks, voice soft and kind, though he's guarded, because he knows that soft-tune she puts on.

She's talking to him like she does to the other hybrids.

Something's up.

"Sure." he shrugs, putting the mop to the side before followong her to the side. "What's up? Did I do something?" he wonders, hands in his pockets while he leans against the wall behind him.

"I think you've already noticed that 268- the hybrid you've been spending time with.. She's not here." Hana says, and she doesn't need to say your name to make his eyes harden. Technically you don't have one after all, only your ID number he's able to recite back by pure instinct. He knows that she's talking about you. There's no one else she could mean.

"what about her?" he asks suspiciously, already irritated because deep down, he's got his fears. Maybe you've been adopted. Then he should be happy, right?

Except he isn't.

"She's been transferred..." Hana says, sighing before she crosses her arms in front of her, a clear sign she's going to try and justify that action while also blocking his for sure incoming anger. "...to a correctional facility in Daegu."

"What the fuck?!" he loudly barks out as soon as he hears that, visibly distressed. "Do you know what they fucking do to hybrids in these shitholes?" he demands to know, fists curled tightly as hed pushed himself off the wall vehind him, walking a step towards her. "She's gonna be even more traumatized in there, good fucking job!" he scoffs.

"please, a bit more quiet-" she tries as she notices some hybrids looking. "-she's gonna be fine. They're trained in cases like hers-"

"and if she doesnt comply she will just be sent to another, and another, and a-fucking-nother! Great solution, really!" he barks out, pulling the nametag from around his neck aggressively. "I'm done participating in this bullshit."

"Jungkook-" she tries, but he's already walking.

"I've got a week left of this work and I've not taken any days off." he says grimly, turning around with angry eyes. "I'm taking them now." He growls angrily, leaving the area to go grab his things- when a young man looks at him, then at his nametag Jungkook is taking off in frustration.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The man says, standing next to him dressed in all black, a facemask covering half of his face. He looks sketchy- and has caught Jungkook during the worst time possible.

"What!?" he snarls more or less, before a letter is pushed into his hand, catching him off guard.

"You're being summoned to court." the man says. Jungkook's blood runs cold at that.

"I've done the community service shit, what the hell?" he argues, but almost weakly so- because he knows he's powerless against the legal system. If they believe he needs further, worse punishment, then he'll have to take it.

"Oh they know, it's not about that." the guy says. "Or at least, not entirely. Read it at home. I think you'll be interested in showing up." the guy almost chuckles, cat-like eyes showing his amusement over the situation.

"..huh." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, turning around to go grab his bag.

"Ah, and Jungkook-ssi." the guy calls out, making the younger man roll his eyes as he turns around. "could you borrow me some of your clothes?"

"..the fuck?" he squints his eyes, unsure what this stranger wants with his clothes of all things. "Why would you want my stuff?" He asks, cringing a bit.

"I think anything that's got your scent on it would do. Just bring something when you visit." the man says, handing him a card, and a plastic.. ID, similar to the one he uses to wear at the center right here. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

The card is from the Hybrid Behavioral Therapy Center in Daegu, contact info and location address clearly written down beneath the logo. But it'sthe plastic ID card that makes hus eyes widen, because it clearly spells out;

'Special Clearance Pass: Potential owner for hybrid 268.'

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine

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y-rhywbeth2 · 9 months ago

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Hello I love bane totally normal amounts, so do you have any favorite fun (or fucked up) trivia facts about my emotional support god of tyranny?

I might've mentioned some of this before, but here's some trivia (and sometimes my musings upon it):

He has absolutely no indoor voice when he's excited. -

If you're invited to pray with the Banites and refuse, expect Bane to curse you with constant debilitating pain that prevents you from being able to cast spells (too much pain to concentrate) or fight, or walk very fast. This doesn't go away until you get a cleric to cast remove curse on you. If you do join them in honouring the Black Lord then your alignment will magically switch to lawful evil and you basically convert to Banite on the spot (if you're a priest then your god fires you immediately and won't take you back); this is either 1e nonsense or a sign of Bane brainwashing you, and either is just as likely. -

He - in his own words - has an "ever-gnawing hunger for miracles and wonder". He also has 10 levels of wizard, which might tie into that. -

He seems to have a monster making hobby. There are so many monsters and monster variants that have been copyrighted by Bane it's ridiculous: banedead, baneguard, baneliches, banelar nagas... I'm pretty sure that Bane is actually credited with creating the beholders ("eye tyrants") of Toril, though I don't have the time to go looking for a source on that.

Either way; he has a lot of beholders in his service. -

I'm pretty sure I remember something about his inventing his own traps during his stay at Zhentil Keep, so there might be an engineering hobby in there somewhere. -

He's a nerd about human biology and geeks out about blood cells and neuroscience - not that he'd admit it because the idea of being thrilled by mortality terrifies him (also I think he just hates positive emotions in general). Before the Time of Troubles he used to enjoy possessing mortals as hosts instead of manifesting avatars, which would presumably allow him to experience what they did and geek out about it while pretending he wasn't (although he didn't look after them very well and inevitably ran them into the ground - basic human needs are beneath him). -

He seems to like using black and red lightning of some sort as a kind of signature. -

(...I think this guy would be very happy as a supervillain living in his secret lab somewhere, performing mad scientist experiments as he plots to take over the world.) -

His domain can be annoying to pin down, because technically it started off in the plane of Acheron, but he's also supposed to be rooming with Loviatar and Bhaal in the Barrens of Doom and Despair in Gehenna, so who knows! -

He has a pet raven called Koravis, who he has a mild telepathic connection with. This raven is actually a fiend in the shape of a raven, but that pretty much just means he has an evil pet raven.

It's been stated that in his mortal life his character class was Blackguard - or an evil paladin, in 5e terms, dedicated to the service of evil powers. I suspect his patron was his master, the primordial Maram, who he served as a battle slave. As the evil pet raven is a Blackguard class feature (fiendish servant) I suspect he had Koravis when he was mortal. The bird/fiend was likely given to him by Maram (much like a warlock's pact familiar comes from their patron) and I guess the bird stuck with the winner. -

He managed to piss off the earth goddess Chauntea at one point, trying to destroy her sacred pools/portals in the Moonshaes. I can't find the sourcebook for the details at the moment though (it was successful enough that his followers still have the moonveil spells though). Bhaal was also trying to kill her over there at some point, so I wonder if that's connected?

#lore stuff #the idiot three #asks #long post

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deuxcherise · 6 months ago

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Collar Crimes: Red Letter

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, Eris being Eris, gender neutral reader, reader has some personality in this one, comfort, fluff, angst (?), mentions violence (eye plucking), flashback scene, may include annoying use of "my" a lot, includes a picture of a simple sponge cake (because why not? You'll see~)

A/n: So I happened to come across those Chad skits from SNL (yeah, I know I'm late to the party) and I was also thinking of how Eris met the reader. So this is kind of a prequel to Weasel In, I guess? I highly suggest reading Part 1 before this, but do as you like. Enjoy~

Masterlist | Part 0 (you're here!), Part 1, Part 2

There were many times in your life when you almost regretted taking this 9-to-5 customer service job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~” you sing into the phone. “How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

You hear a growling male voice on the line groan, “Oh god, keep talking–”

You immediately hang up.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

Professionalism, be damned. Yeah no. You definitely regret taking this job. How did you even get this job anyway? Well, however you got it, unfortunately, it just pays too well for you to just up and quit now.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

Then again, being an anonymous voice on the other side of the line is far better than your last job, where you had to wait tables for the mafioso in a very, very scandalously short waitress outfit. You were quite popular because of your unintentional moe gap where you would say some of the cringiest lines in history in a cutesy voice while wearing the stiffest expression. It wasn’t on purpose, the facial muscles on your face just don’t work the way most people’s do.

There are times you think about staff, especially Remy, the most buffest and nicest chef you have ever met. As much as you wanted to stay with them at the time, you were sure that sooner or later you'd be kidnapped by one of those criminals if you continued to work there.

…..

Well, you technically did get kidnapped, which proved your point. That’s a story for another time.

Back to the point, when you left that job, left everyone and everything behind, you made sure you left without a single trace. You had to. The slightest crumb left behind could have created a scent trail all the way back to you, and you would have been left with only one way out…

You shake your head and body, ridding yourself of those kinds of thoughts. It’s time to re-focus on maintaining your character for your next caller.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hiiii~ Cherry, Cherry here! How are youuuu~?”

“Salutations, this is Blueberry, sweetheart~ And you?

Although your face lacks the ability to show emotion, internally you smile at the voices of your coworkers, who must endure the same cringiness of stating their work names aloud. When else would one be able to call themselves fruit names?

… Well, you suppose Cherry would, since that is her actual name. How she hasn’t been kidnapped by any of her callers in this godforsaken city is gosh darn miracle in your book.

Your company, Fruity Friends, was created by some previously closeted man, who felt people needed someone—a complete stranger—to share intimate details of their love lives with, without the fear of being outed. Apparently, it was an idea that conjured up during his break at work when he once sat in the restroom stall and spoke to a floating voice who gave him advice to confess to his long-time highschool crush turned coworker. He found out who the voice belonged to, but lo and behold, he ended up getting married to his long-time crush, and thus, with the amount of money and influence he possessed, the company was born.

A noble endeavor, no doubt, but, in your opinion, he might've failed to account for the… inappropriate individuals who you feel should’ve gone into proper therapy instead of taking advantage of a nice-sounding voice. Seriously, the lengths these hooligans go through just to harass other people… Then again, these are often the very people who pay your bills, so who are you to complain?

You hang up the phone with a satisfied sigh, having finished another long call. You had given them the advice to make a list and check it twice before going ahead with their big proposal to their lover. You interlace your fingers and stretch your arms out in front of you. Time to take a—

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“A-ah… um… h-hi there… I'm… Eris… um…”

If you weren’t a professional, you would have squealed out loud. The rowdy ones are common, but the quiet and meek ones are so adorable! Some of your most loyal clientele had started out as nervous wrecks, which means you have quite a few scripted lines to choose from. Although this one chose the most basic package, according to the call line, you always bring your best.

“Hello Eris~ What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you! How are you?”

You hear him mumbling to himself on the line before he comes back. “Um… is this… really… uh… confidential?”

Ah… Sometimes, they turn out to be one of those perverted bastards like the one earlier. This one sounds too cute, it would be such a shame…

“Why yes, of course, my dear Eris! Everything you say here is completely safe with me. And if you don't believe me, then believe in the contract that had brought us together. There is nothing you say that can be taken as evidence! Rest assured, you are safe here with me, here at Fruity Friends.”

You hear him gasp. “O-oh…okay… Um… I-I'm… your dear Eris?”

Aww, how cute! You hope this customer becomes one of your loyal clientele. Still keeping up your cutesy persona, you answer, “Why yes. And I am your Lychee~”

“O-oh… M'kay… my Lychee…”

You pause, quickly mute the phone for a moment, and squeal to your heart’s content for just a second, before unmuting the phone.

From then on, Eris would return and call for you every single day for months, except for the weekends. Calls could only last about an hour, as per the package deal, since that was the company policy to accommodate multiple customers per day— unless they were willing to pay for the package multiple times.

On the following Mondays, he'd call in to check up on you and pout about how much he missed you and wished you could talk to you all day every day. And you, in your persona, would reply that you wished you could talk to him all day as well.

It did occur to you how Eris somehow had the funds to completely take up your entire work time. And even stranger is how so far your manager hasn’t complained at all… Well, you’re making your rent on time so it doesn’t matter, right?

Besides, you quite enjoy your conversations with Eris. Once he became more comfortable, he started asking about all kinds of topics, ranging from philosophical takes such as:

“Which is better to eat first first? Steak or salad?”

“Depeeeends! I heard Americans usually eat salads before steaks and the French eat steak before salad. So it's up to you, really, ya know?”

“I see! … Hey, do you think graham crackers are cookies or crackers? I think they are crackers, but what does my Lychee think?”

To things that happened to him recently:

“LyCheeEeeEe!” he whines on the other side of the phone, voice clearly indicating he's been crying. “My LycheEee.”

You play along. “WhaAaaAt, my dear ErIsssSss?”

“T-there…” he sniffs. “There was-was this guy…”

“Awww, noo! What did this mean guy do, my dear Eris? Tell your Lychee.”

You start noticing recently that it seems once a week, Eris would encounter some mean dude who'd insult him and then he'd come to you for comfort. How he always ends up in such situations is beyond you.

And he's always… always does something about it a week later.

“My LycheEeeE.”

“YeeSsss, my dear Erisss?

“You know that one guy… you know the one I told you last week who I keep meeting in the subway, the one who kept saying I keep looking at him funny and kept shoving me?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“I finally ripped his eyeballs out!” he says, almost shrieking from excitement. “So he can't tell who's looking at him wrong or right anymore! Isn't that great??”

Your mouth falls open in shock, only to close it and consider the next words that should come out. Due to the confidentiality clause, unfortunately, whatever a customer says is not liable to use as evidence. Even if it means allowing… crimes like these to continue.

“That's greeaaaat!“ you answer, your throat tight. “You feel better now, don't you, my dear Eris?”

“I do, I do! Hehe~”

Such a troubling life, he has. Even if there is a person you could talk to, you'd never admit that sometimes… sometimes listening to him makes you feel better about your uneventful life, only having to worry about keeping your job, keeping a roof over your head, and keeping your belly full.

Besides, what's there to worry about? Your identity is unknown and your persona is too friendly to get on anyone's nerves.

-----

[Some time later…]

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?”

“LYchEeeeE! My LyCheeEee.”

Oh, his feelings got hurt again. What is it this time?” “YeeEeesss, my dear Eris? What's wrong? Tell your Lychee.”

You listen to him bawl his eyes, cooing and offer your sympathies, like a mother to a child.

“M-my best friend… he said… he said…”

Oh, his best friend. Eris has never revealed his friend's name, but based on the description he gives you, sometimes you wonder why someone sweet and innocent— albeit a little violent— like Eris was friends with someone like that…

“Aww, no! Was he being a meanie again? What did he say?”

“He said… that I should get a life and stop talking to you.”

You feel your heart drop. “R-really? He said that?”

Ah… well. It isn't the first time a customer has left you, or rather left Lychee due to personal reasons.

Lychee is a cute person, someone who likes to hang out with their friends, who likes to party all day and all night, who likes to share the most scandalous gossip from their supposed life. Lychee is someone who wants everyone to like them and to help people get through difficult times…

But in the end, Lychee isn't a real person. Lychee couldn't leave their job to hang out with friends. Lychee couldn't attend parties and weddings. Lychee couldn't fall in love. Lychee was just a faceless voice who only spoke once you paid the price, and even then only for an hour or two out of the entire day.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about all of that. Who has time to party and hang out with friends and share other people's business when you have no safety net to fall back on if you were ever to go jobless? Forget about reputation, you were already used to people making assumptions based on your stoic appearance.

That being said, it wasn't like it didn't hurt when your customers got on with their lives. It was just… inevitable, and you had long since accepted that. Perhaps, this was a sign that it was time for Lychee's Eris to move on. He's spent over thousands of dollars just to speak to you over several hours per day over a span of four months already, single handedly paying your entire rent. As a fellow human who has to work their ass off in order to live, you can't bear to become the reason he goes broke.

“Yeah… but I don't want to! I love talking to you, my Lychee! And you love talking to me too, right? So I don't see why he’s telling me to have a life. I am living! Ugh, stupid…”

You mull over all kinds of lines but in the end, you whisper, “... Maybe, he's right.”

…..

“What?”

“Listen, Eris-”

“Your Eris. I'm your dear Eris. Right? Right?”

His voice sounds sharp and metallic… you've ‘slipped’ up a few times, and he'd always softly correct you with his usual whiny voice. Not like this.

You cough, getting back into character. “Yesss, you’re absolutely right! My dear Eris. Sorry~ LiSteeEeen. As much as I love talking to you, I think that you're spending way too much money on me! I feel flattered and all, but I’m scared you're going to go bankrupt at some point!”

Silence on the phone… until you hear him cackle loudly like you had just told him the funniest joke ever. Moments later you hear him again. “Aha… ah… Is that what you were worried about, my Lychee? Aww, you're the best~ That's why I… But don't worRrrRry~ As the eldest son in my family, I inherited everything after my parents died. Enough to last me years to the point I don’t even need to work. Money isn't an issue at all, my Lychee.”

A bitter taste on your tongue. “Bas-” You clear your throat, the curse word almost slipped from under your persona. “Bestieee, even if money isn't the issue, your mental health must be taking a toll with all those troublemakers you have to deal with a lot. Other than your best friend and of course me, your Lychee, do you ever talk to anyone else?”

“... Why should I? I only need you, don't I? Also, I'm not your ‘bestieee’, I'm your Eris.”

“R-Right, my dear Eris~ I'm just saying. One day you'll want to… you know? Hug someone, hold hands, kiss, or even just… be next to someone. In person. We both know, I can’t do that for you. Don't you want a more… authentic relationship or friendship with someone? Besides your best friend. Besides me.”

A pause. “... Is this part of your character?”

You blink. “What do you mean, my dear Eris? What character?”

“... Huh… Come to think of it… I’ve never thought about it before, but Lychee’s not your real name, right?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. “... Ehhh? But it is! I wouldn't lie to you, my dear Eris.”

Another pause. “… This line is confidential, right?”

“Mmhm! Always have been!”

“Then what’s your real name?”

Your free hand wraps around the cloth of your pants as you hold the phone against your ear. “I… My dear Eris, I told you. It’s Lychee. Your Lychee!”

You hear him sigh, before he suddenly hangs up. You look at your phone, very confused and worried. He has never hung up on you just like that before. Did he just… leave?

After several weeks of no calls from him, you figure he finally did leave. Fortunately, there are always new callers on the line along with some really loyal customers who've been patiently waiting for you to pay them some attention. While it bothers you, at the same time, it sort of relieves you. He must be finally living his life now, instead of spending it all on you.

…..

It’s a shame though… He was such a charming fellow, so open with his emotions and sweet with his words. It was… different from your other customers. Somehow.

Once you finish your 9-5 job for the day, you bid your coworkers goodbye, drag yourself out of the office to the bus stop, wait for the bus, get on the bus, wait until your stop, get off your stop, drag yourself home, enter your home, lock your door, and collapse on your couch, still in your work uniform. Same as usual. Why your company felt it was necessary to have a uniform when your job only requires your voice is beyond you.

You close your eyes and let yourself be whisked away to dreamland…

Shick shick shick shick!

You wake up at 3AM, according to a glance at your clock, to the odd sound of… whisking? You slowly sit up, get off the couch, walk to the source of the noise, and find a handsome young man standing in the kitchen, whisking away at some white fluff in a bowl.

You rub your eyes and blink several times, wondering if you’re still asleep. What the heck am I looking at?

The man stops whisking and looks at you. He smiles bashfully. “My Lychee-”

WOW! Has it really happened? You’ve finally reached the point you’ve overworked your mind and body to exhaustion! And now you’re either hallucinating things at 3AM or you’re in the middle of a nightmare! There’s only one person in the world who calls you that and there is no way in hell Eris would be in your kitchen at 3AM, covered in flour, and smiling at you like this is all normal! WOW!

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hard.

Eris gasps, dropping the bowl of whipped cream on the counter. He grabs onto your hands and inspects your face with a worried expression. “Lychee! Are you okay? Why did you slap yourself?”

His hands feel oddly very real and your cheeks oddly hurt really bad… but there's absolutely no way Eris is actually in my home, right? Wake up wake up wake up-

“Lych–No, I should say (Y/n), right? I would call you my (Y/n), but you're already mine, so–”

Oh, heck no.

You take your hands back and head out of the kitchen, take out your phone from your pocket, and quickly tap on the screen.

Briiing. Briiing. Tch!

“Local Police Department, how may we–”

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand. You throw your hand out towards it, only for Eris to take several steps back and hold your phone out of reach. He looks at the phone and immediately hangs it up and tosses it somewhere on the ground. Then he moves so quickly you don't have time to react until he's wrapped you in his arms. He places his head on your shoulder, his lips tickling your neck. “(Y/n)... Don’t do that. I missed you… so, so much… ”

You can only stand there, hands awkwardly hanging there at your sides, trying to absorb the bizarreness of this situation. “W-why are you here? H-how’d you get in?”

“Never mind that, your dear Eris is here now.”

You take deep breaths. “Eris…”

“That's me~ I'm your Eris~”

“Right… Uh, could you… let me go?”

“I don’t wannaaaa.”

Your eyes look all over the place, as if looking for a camera that’ll pop out and announce that this is all just some elaborate prank. Except there are none, and this is all very real.

You clear your throat, collecting yourself. “Okay… Fine… Listen. I… I think I get why you’re here. It’s because you like Lychee, right?” you try to reason. “Well, sorry, but bad news is, I'm not anything like Lychee. Lychee is just a character.”

“I know.”

You purse your lips, and then say, “Okay… so that means you don’t know me. Me. We’re strangers! You have no reason to be here! Get off me!”

He lets go of you but slides his hands down to your arms. You’re unable to pull away. What’s with this strength?

“Eh? That’s not true!” he says. You're (Y/n). You like (favorite animal), (favorite fruit), (favorite TV show), (favorite dish), (favorite pos–)”

You begin to sweat as you listen to him list of all of your favorite items, before moving on places you’ve ordered food from, to private details, such as your age, your highschool, your address, your family home address, even your Social Security number–Who the heck is this man and how did he find these things out?

“–and that’s all I have so far. What do you think, (Y/n)?”

“Get out.”

“Nooooooooo!”

He pulls you into a hug again, as if to emphasize the point that he’s not going anymore. You try to twist and turn your way out, but you find his grasp to be extremely difficult to get out of, despite how gentle he’s being with you.

“(Y/n)... You know…” he mumbles into your shoulder, making you still. “For the last few days, I finally realized what you meant the last time we talked. It’s true. One day, I will want to be with someone. In person. Hold hands with them. Hug them. Kiss them…”

He leans into your ear and whispers, “But I have also realized that I would only want that… with you. Only you. I love you, (Y/n).”

…..

“I’m… sorry,” you stutter. “I don’t…”

“Oh, that’s okay!” He releases you and steps back again, interlocking his fingers with yours this time. A blush appears across his cheeks as he bashfully looks up at you with his head tilted down shyly. “We can start over. Today can be our Day 1?”

His fingers have incredible strength, again you’re unable to escape their gentle grip. “What? Day 1 of what?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” he says, softly swinging your hands side to side. “Day 1. Dating.”

…..

“Who says we’re dating?” you screech, wanting so badly to rip your hands away from this deranged man.

“Eh?? What do you… Ohhh! I haven't asked you properly yet, huh? Sorry, love. Will you date me?”

“No! We've just met!”

“Oh.” You can see the cogs turning in his head, before he tilts his head and giggles. “But that’s exactly why we should date. People date to get to know each other more. Silly, (Y/n). But if you need further convincing: as you can see I’m handsome, and I have money! Lots of it! You’ll never have to work a day in your life. I’ll be the best boyfriend for you.”

Tempting as that sounds, the idea of placing your life into the hands of someone else just like that? Hah! No thanks. “No.”

The cogs are turning again before he reaches another answer in his head. “Ohhh, I get it! I'm so dumb! It took me so long to realize… You haven’t realized you love me too, right? That's okay. I can wait. Hehe~”

You stare at him incredulously, speechless. What the he-

Ding!

“Oh!” He drags you back into the kitchen before letting your hands go to don your oven mitts and take out a freshly baked cake to flip it over a rack. “Ta da~! Mmm, sorry. I was hoping to decorate it before you woke up but… well, who needs frosting anyway, right?”

You place a hand against your forehead “What… why?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Eh? Did you forget? Oh, love. It’s your birthday today. Happy birthday, (Y/n)!”

-----🔔-----

[Many, many years ago…]

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear (Y/n)~ Happy birthday to you~ Now, make a wish!”

You close your eyes, make your wish, and blow all the candles out in one go, ensuring your wish will come true as it always does every year.

You receive two presents to open. One from your Mom and one from your Dad. That’s how it always is on your birthday, or your Mom or Dad's birthdays. Just the three of you. No one else. Even now in your teens, your birthday party has only three members and there is nothing more that could make you happier.

After a fun-filled birthday, you went to sleep so peacefully that you didn't wake up the next day. Your parents decide to go grocery shopping without you, letting you rest in because it’s a Saturday.

It was a normal day. Just a normal day.

Sometime after you wake up, you hear heavy knocking at the door. Curious, you open it and find the police. They come bearing heavy news.

There was a drunk driver on the road.

Your parents didn’t make it.

Your wish didn't come true.

-----🔔-----

[Present…]

No matter how many candles you blew out, your wish didn’t come true. It didn’t the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. It would never, ever come true ever again, and at some point you just stopped celebrating your birthday altogether.

“(Y-Y/n)? Do you not like it? I’m s-sorry…”

Your vision turns blurry as memories flood into your mind. Your eyes fill with hot tears to the point it flows down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, your face twists in agony as you try to stop the dam from breaking in front of a stranger, but your knees give out instead.

Eris catches you and you both slowly sink to the ground. He holds your head gently against his shoulder, letting you cry out years worth of contained sorrows and to your heart's content as he pats you on the head, cooing at you and offering you words of comfort. He doesn’t understand, but at least you aren’t pushing him away.

Once you run out of tears to cry, you whisper with a broken voice, “Thank you… for the cake.”

“Anytime, my love, anytime.”

“... I'm not… your love.”

“Shh, shh… Take it easy… I'm here for you…”

“Idiot… Just leave me alone…”

“M’kay.”

…..

“I said leave me alone. Why are you still here?”

“Mm… because I don't think you want me to leave you alone right now?” he offers.

You sigh, giving up completely.

…..

Grumble…

“(Y/n), before I go, would you like to eat some cake?”

“... No thanks.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I also got a present for you too.”

“Don't want it.”

“Can't return it, I'm afraid,” he sighs. “It cost so much too…”

“... Fine. I'll take your stupid gift and eat your stupid cake.”

“Yay~”

49 notes · View notes

animesmolbean · 9 months ago

Text

A World of Pure Imagination

Chapter 3: A Silver Lining

For the rest of the day, Yin couldn't stop thinking about what happened in the Gallery Gourmet. The whole scene replayed in his head, and he couldn't help but blush and let out a few laughs.

Once it was night and roll call was done, Yin watched Noodle enter her room and sit down on the bed next to him. He was still in a giddy mood.

"Can't stop thinking about him, huh?" Noodle asked with a teasing smirk. Yin blushed but smiled while nodding. "You've fallen in love with him, haven't you?" Noodle asked.

Yin sputtered but didn't deny it. "Anyone would fall madly in love with someone who doffs their hat to you with a smile."

"Not as hard as you did." Noodle retaliated in a teasing tone.

Yin let out a whine. Noodle giggled. Yin may be older than her, but Yin sometimes acted like a child. Not that she hated that. She actually likes that Yin still has that childhood wonder.

"Speaking of Mr. Wonka, I have to deliver his food to him. Want to come with? So you can meet your soulmate?" Noodle asked with a teasing smile.

Yin blushed. "No way he's my soulmate."

"Come on. He looked really into you."

"Fine. I'll come with."

Noodle smiled. "Come. Your boyfriend awaits you."

"Once again, he is not my boyfriend."

Yin waited for Noodle to get the food cart. Once she came back, Yin followed her to Mr. Wonka's room.

The pair arrived at where Wonka was staying. His door was open, but Wonka wasn't looking in their direction. Instead, he was looking out the window. "Room service." Noodle called. Yin suddenly felt shy and stepped to the side, hiding himself. Despite not showing himself, he listened to the conversation.

"Told you to read the small print." Noodle told Wonka. Yin remembered that Noodle did try to warn Wonka about the small print. He wondered why he didn't listen to her, even after she was caught. Then he got his answer when he heard Noodle speak,

"You can't read, can you?"

That sentence hit Yin hard in the face and immediately made him upset. How dare those monsters take advantage of him like that. Then, he heard Wonka speak,

"I focused my studies almost exclusively on chocolate."

"I see." Noodle nodded. Yin said it at the same time as she did, but more quiet, still shy.

"For everything else, I've relied on the kindness of strangers."

"And look where that got you: the Staff quarters. You have a bed." Noodle said in a matter of fact tone.

Willy sat on said bed, only for it to collapse underneath him. Now, from the angle Wonka was at, he saw a flimpse of another person. Yin gasped softly and backed away, hoping Wonka didn't see him.

"You had a bed. Desk. And wash basin slash toilet. Water comes in two temperatures. 'Cold'. And 'Colder'." Noodle continued.

Wonka only partially listened as he was now focused on seeing if someone else was out there. But Noodle's next question made him look back at her. "How much do you owe them?"

"Ten thousand." Wonka replied softly.

"Consider yourself lucky. I owe thirty."

"What? How do you owe them money? I thought they found you down the laundry chute." Wonka asked, confused.

"Oh, they did. Took me in out of the goodness of their hearts and charged me for the privilege." Noodle replied with sass.

"You're kidding me." Wonka was shocked.

"It's not as bad. If I keep my nose clean, I'll be out of here by the time I'm eigthy-two."

"What a pair of monsters." Wonka said, dumbstruck.

'Thank you!' Yin thought to himself.

"The greedy beat the need every time, Mr. Wonka. Guess it's just the way of the world." Noodle said as she served him slop in a bowl before leaving.

Yin went to follow her, suddenly too shy to say anything to Wonka before Wonka spoke again, catching their attention.

"Oh, come on, Noodle, that's just your orphan syndrome talking."

Noodle reappeared at the door. "My what?!"

Yin had to face palm. Did Wonka know that technically isn't a thing? Well... he guessed that it kind of was.

"Your Orphan Syndrome. And we're certainly not going to be eating any slop." Wonka dumped his food out. "And neither is your friend out there either."

Yin felt his body tense up, and his face warmed up in embarrassment. Noodle smirked at his reaction.

"Come on out now, friend." Wonka encouraged. Noodle looked at her friend. She silently motioned him to show himself.

"I recognized you from the Gallery Gourmet today. You were the one who bowed at me. I also saw you the day before when I first came."

Yin blushed harder, and Noodle had to hold back a snicker.

'He remembered me.' Yin thought to himself, feeling flattered. Yin inhaled and exhaled softly and stepped away from the wall and appeared by the door next to Noodle.

When Wonka saw Noodle's friend up close, he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. There was no doubt. This was the young man he saw today and yesterday. His (hair color) (straight/curly/wavy) framed his face, his skin was glowing softly in the room lighting, and his (eye color) eyes sparkled. He was dressed similarly to how he normally would, but from what he had seen so far, it looked like he didn't own a coat. Despite this, Wonka could only think,

'He's... beautiful.'

Yin blushed as he saw Wonka looking at him up and down, hoping he wasn't silently judging him. He shyly played with a strand of hair. Then, Wonka looked at him before giving him a smile.

"Nice to officially meet you. My name is Willy Wonka." He said, reaching a hand out to Yin.

'So that's his full name. Willy Wonka. What a name.' He thought to himself.

He placed his hand in Wonka's, shaking it gently and trying not to blush at the feeling. "N-nice to meet you, Mr. Wonka. I'm Yin (Last Name)."

'Shoot! I stuttered.' He thought to himself.

Wonka chuckled at the young man. "Lovely name, and please, no need for formalities. Just call me Willy." He said, still smiling. Yin smiled shyly before nodding. "Oh! Um.. all right then... Willy."

Willy hummed. He quickly realized that he quite liked it when Yin said his first name.

He then picked up his sample case and put it on the table. The other two looked in confusion.

"What are you doing?" Noodle asked.

"I'm making chocolate, of course. How do you like it? Dark? White? Nutty? Absolutely insane?" He asked, tilting his head to the side dramatically.

Yin bit his bottom lip to conceal a laugh as his cheeks turned red. 'He looks like a puppy. Acts like one too.' He thought to himself.

Shaking off the feeling, mostly, Yin chuckled. "I guess... absolutely insane." He said with a smile and a shrug.

Willy gave Yin a smile. "I love that answer."

He then looked at Noodle. "I don't know. I've never had any."

This was no surprise to Yin. However, to Wonka, his eyes widened, and he looked dumbstruck.

"You've never had chocolate?"

Yin chuckled quietly at his reaction. 'He looks like Noodle just said a curse word to him.'

"No." Noodle replied with a shake of her head.

Wonka threw his head back. "WHAT?!! You've never had chocolate?!"

"Still no." Noodle replied, unamused.

Yin, meanwhile, was very amused.

"Well, we'll soon put that right. Fortunately for you, I have a selection of the world's finest ingredients right here in my travel factory." Wonka opened the sample case, and it showed an almost impossible array of flasks and beakers, a miniature gas stove, and jars of ingredients.

"Whoa!" Yin and Noodle admired the case.

Wonka looked at the pair. "Where to start, that's the question... Ah! I know! Silver Linings! Made of condensed thunder clouds and liquid sunlight. Helps you see that fist ray of hope beyond the shadow of despair. Just what we need, wouldn't you say?"

The two watched Willy take the jars and start mixing the ingredients, curiosity evident on their faces.

"Did you always want to make chocolate?" Yin asked, feeling a bit bold now. Wonka looked at the pretty boy beside him, smiling a bit. "Oh no. Back when I was around Noodle's age, I wanted to be a magician. My mom was the cook. We lived on the river, just the two of us, in a perfect little world of our own..."

Willy explained to the two about how his mother made chocolate for him from a single cocoa bean and wished to know what her secret was to making the chocolate tasting delicious.

"So, what was it, Willy? What was her secret?" Noodle asked.

Wonka looked down. "I never found out. Soon after, she fell sick, and before I knew it, all I had left was her chocolate."

"I'm so sorry, Willy." Yin said, who looked to be close to tears but managed to not break.

"That's why I'm here. So I can feel the same way I did back them, eating chocolate with her."

"What do you mean?" Noodle asked.

"My mom once promised that when I share chocolate with the world, she'd be right there beside me. And I know it sounds crazy, but I always hoped she'd somehow keep that promise. She might even tell me her secret."

Noodle and Yin smiled, feeling Wonka's pain.

Then, a soft 'Ping!' rang through the room. The chocolates were done. They were powder blue, shaped like thunder clouds, and had a silver lining on the edges. They were topped with a yellow lightning bolt.

"Here, try one." Wonka handed one to each of them.

The pair tentatively took a nibble of the chocolate. Yin's teeth glided through the chocolate, and at first taste, he let out a soft gasp in surprise. It was the best chocolate he has ever had!

Willy saw his reaction and hid a smile beneath his hand, raising his eyebrows at him. He saw Yin's eyes sparkle with a childlike glimmer, like his hope had been restored.

Noodle was also shocked by the taste of the chocolate but stopped from taking another bite. "I wish you hadn't done that."

Willy looked at Noodle with a surprised look. "You don't like it?" He asked, feeling a little crestfallen.

Noodle shook her head. "No, I like it. It's just..."

"What?" Wonka asked.

"Now, each day I don't have chocolate will be a little harder." She said solemnly.

Yin frowned before nodding in agreement. She was right. He felt it, too. Not in the sense that he'll never have chocolate again, but knowing he might not ever have Willy's chocolate ever again.

Wonka saw the two with solemn looks on their faces. "Then how would you two like to have all the chocolate you can eat every day for the rest of your lives?"

"A lifetime supply?" Yin looked at Wonka with surprise.

"A lifetime supply." Wonka repeated, smiling at the young man.

"What do we have to do?" Noodle asked, suspicious.

"Not much. Just get me out of here."

"Are you crazy?!" Noodle exclaimed.

Willy and Yin shushed her. "It's easy. I'll get someone to cover my shift, and you can smuggle me out in your laundry cart - just for a few hours, mind. Nobody would even know I was gone." Wonka explained.

"What's the point of that?" Noodle asked.

"I think you know the answer." Yin whispered to her.

"To sell chocolate, of course! We'll split the profits and pay off Mrs. Scrubbit in no time!" Wonka said excitedly.

"It's a nice idea, Willy..." Noodle started.

"It's a great idea, Noodle." Wonka corrected.

"But it'll never work!" Noodle finished.

"Course it will! Eat your chocolate!" Willy told her as he walked to the window. Noodle did so. "You don't understand. Mrs. Scrubbit's like a hawk. She keeps her beady eye on everything that comes in and out of the Wash House. Except.... huh."

Willy looked at her. "What it is?"

"No, it's nothing." Noodle brushed it off.

"Oh, ok." Willy turned around again, but Yin could tell something was up.

"Huh!" Noodle hummed.

Willy turned around again but with excitement. "A double-huh! That's not nothing. That's the Silver Lining. It's given you an idea."

'His candy can give people ideas?' Yin wondered as he looked at his half eaten chocolate.

"Okay. So the one time she dropped her guard was when this aristocrat came into the laundry. He was only asking for directions, but she was all over him like a rash. It was disgusting." Noodle explained.

"That's it, Noodle! All we have to do is find an aristocrat and slip out while she's distracted." He eats his Silver Lining.

"Yeah, but where are we going to find an aristocrat?"

The light above Willy's head flicked on, Willy looked up. He had an idea.

"Huh."

"Huh?" The other two hummed.

"Huh!"

"A double-huh!" The two said together.

"Do you have a pencil and paper?" Wonka asked them.

"Uh-huh!" Noodle nodded.

"Because I have an idea..." Wonka said.

Noodle hummed before looking at her friend. "Yin? Are you in?" She asked with a smirk.

Yin, who mostly didn't say anything, looked at Noodle. Yin looked at the chocolate again and back at Wonka, who looked at him with puppy dog eyes. Yin blushed lightly but smiled softly and gave a curt nod. "Yeah, I'm in!"

Wonka smiled. "Great!" Then, he looked at a bit worried. "But... how will you get out? You don't seem -"

Noodle quickly stepped in. "That's because -"

"Huh."

Willy and Noodle looked at Yin, who had just finished chewing. "Huh?" They hummed.

"Huh!"

"A double-huh!" They said to Yin. Yin giggled. "Your Silver Lining kicked in. What's your idea?" Wonka asked, really excited.

Yin thought about it for a moment. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at Wonka. "Well, Mr. Wonka -" "Willy." The cute chocolatier corrected. Yin giggled shyly. "Right. Willy, how do you feel if I share the laundry cart with you?"

Willy thought about it for a moment but smiling. "Of course you can. If that's the case, can you help me with something tomorrow?"

'He needs my help? Oh God, he needs my help!' Yin thought excitedly.

"Of course! Anything." He replied, a bit too excited.

"Perfect!" Wonka said with a wide smile. A smile that made Yin's heart skip a beat.

The three conversed into the night, talking until they were positive in their plan.

Tomorrow, they will put their plan into action.

#wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #fanfic #timothee fanfic #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n

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lavellenchanted · 10 months ago

Note

💛 & OTP: I want the whole damn thing

💛 Reunion Kiss/Relief

Jackson's an interminably long board meeting when it happens, trying to make sense of the world's most boring financial presentation, so he doesn't immediately notice the news bulletin popping up on his phone. It's only when they start hearing voices in the corridor and someone runs past the board room window that they all start to realise something's going on, and Jackson suddenly catches sight of the blinking red notification on his phone screen.

"Multi-car pile up," he explains shortly to the board, already on his feet and heading for the door, scrolling down for more information. "I'm guessing we're the nearest hospital - it's gonna be all hands on deck, so if you're qualified to hold a scalpel, get down to the pit."

(Frank, still holding the clicker for his presentation, looks thoroughly relieved that his only qualification is in accountancy.)

Halfway down the corridor, Jackson stops dead. A cold shiver run down his spine and it feels like his stomach has dropped out of him entirely as he sees the location of the accident. That's April's route to work.

Immediately he brings up her number and dials - but it goes straight to voicemail, and he wants to be sick. He shoots her off a quick text and then tries ringing again and again as he heads down to the E.R.

Each time it goes to voicemail.

He tries to tell himself not to panic. The phone lines are probably horrendously busy with people trying to contact emergency services or friends and family to make sure they're alright, and April not answering might just mean she's not looking at her phone. She's probably trying to help, if she is near there.

He tells himself that, but all he can think of is Ben calling him, telling him he was going to have to perform a C-section on April in her kitchen, of April quarantined behind glass, of watching April on the operating table of Grey-Sloan.

(How much luck can one person have?)

"Pick up, damn it!" he shouts as her voicemail message plays again, and a nurse passing jumps in fright.

"Dr Avery? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just - I'm worried about my wife."

The word slips out automatically, and it's only after he says it that he remembers that, technically, April isn't his wife any more. Because he was stupid enough to divorce her. They're not even dating, despite the fact that they've been living together since they came to Boston, are raising Harriet together.

And yet he never really stopped thinking of her in that way, did he? Even when they were separated, when he was dating other women, when she was marrying someone else, he still thought of her as his.

"Has a woman called April Kepner been brought in? Late thirties, red hair?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think so - not that I've seen. I'll check for you."

She scurries away, but before Jackson can follow or try to ring April again he's stopped and asked for a consult, and then another, and another, and then he gets pulled into a surgery and loses all track of time.

The whole way through he's repeating silently, Please, God. Please let her be okay. Please let me get another chance. I promise I won't waste this one.

His faith still isn't as strong as April's, he doubts it ever will be. Half the time he's not even really sure what it is he believes in. But it's comforting to pray, whether anyone's listening or not.

When he's finally finished and comes back out into the corridor, he immediately pulls his phone out. It's been nearly five hours, and there's still nothing from April. He wants to scream.

And then -

"There's no signs of internal bleeding, but get a CT scan just to be sure."

He spins round, his heart in his throat. April's just coming out of a patient room with an intern; she's in jeans an a tshirt instead of scrubs, dirt and what looks like splashes of blood staining them, her hair scraped back and a band-aid on her forehead, but she's alive and whole and the most beautiful thing Jackson's ever seen.

"April?"

"Jackson, there you are!" Her face lights up as she turns and sees him. Relief crashing over him, he starts running towards her. "I tried to find you but they said you were in surgery. I came with one of the -"

He cuts her off by pulling her into his arms and soundly kissing her. How she got here doesn't really seem to matter any more, just that she is here and uninjured.

She lets out a little sound of shock, and then melts into him the way she always has, her hands coming up to clutch at his scrubs. The feel of her lips is achingly familiar against his, and he rains kisses down on them, one after another, trying to make up for every time he should have kissed her but didn't. And his heart sings as she lifts herself up on tip-toes and kisses him back, meeting each stroke of his mouth with one of her own.

Finally he pulls back, but only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"You weren't answering your phone," he says quietly.

"I was doing triage at the scene, and then the battery died. I'm sorry."

"You're alright?"

"Totally fine. I promise."

For the first time since he saw the notification on his phone, he starts to relax.

"Dr Avery?" Glancing up, he sees the nurse he was talking to earlier at the end of the corridor. "You found your wife, then?"

Jackson looks down at April, who's smiling knowingly up at him, a warmth in her eyes that gives him the confidence to reply, "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

kiss prompts

#I swear these are getting longer with each prompt lol #japril #jackson avery #april kepner #otp: I want the whole damn thing #my fic

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dmercer91 · 2 years ago

Text

ebug’s sister, dm91

part one / part two / part three

we're gonna ignore the drastic hair change and the fact that the people in pictures 2 and 3 look absolutely nothing alike despite being twins in the au

pictures saved from pinterest !

blakefriarr_

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06 and 4,867 others

blakefriarr_: my brother's an ubug, episode 3! birthday edition!

jj was not actually the ebug for tonight's game, he's just a huge suck and he got me devs tickets for my (our) birthday cause he LOVESSSSS MEEEEE

he was gonna get me a mercer jersey and then i apparently offended him by drawing dicks on the printed pdf of his 10 commandments

i can't not provide context for these photos, it's my brand. so buckle up.

one is me after unwrapping the gift my dad got for jj and accidentally put my name on. yes that is fire. yes this was our father telling jj to go get an actual job. yes i laughed. yes i kept it.

the next two capture jj and i's entire relationship visually, and they are me wanting to drink out of a much too heavy, glass bottle without using my hands. jj was incredibly concerned for his safety as well as the condition the floor would be in after i inevitably dropped the bottle and got glass everywhere. however, that did not happen because i am actually god himself. next.

dawson looks very displeased with whatever he is looking at (they were winning?????? the puck was in the o zone?????? hisch had the puck?????? idek. maybe he's got digestive issues)

the boys are having a pre faceoff chat. dawson is eating his gloves.

view 525 comments..

jj.friar31: i want that torch back

→ blakefriarr_: tough shit james

→ drayanewman: HIS NAME IS JAMES?!?!?!?!?

user6543456: dawson eating his gloves just like jack

→ user93456: will ny is the original sporting goods eater

dawson1417: happy birthday <3 hope you had a good night

→ blakefriarr_: this comment squished my heart like a pimple in the best way

→ dawson1417: you're welcome? 😭

→ blakefriarr_: thank you, handsome <3

→ dawson1417: i understand the pimple comment. good lord.

dawson1417: now that we're done being cute i do NOT have DIGESTIVE ISSUES???

→ blakefriarr_: it's nothing to be ashamed of, daws. just a tummy ache :(

→ dawson1417: i did not have a tummy ache i am a grown man

→ blakefriarr_: shit ur right my bad you've got functional dyspepsia

→ dawson1417: i've got WHAT

user230237: this is so chaotic

user098765: i love that everyone just goes with this

dawson1417: final comment i promise but why is your shirt half see through

→ blakefriarr_: why ISN'T your shirt half see through 🤨

→ blakefriarr_: lemme have a look

→ jj.friar31: this is why you didn't get a jersey

→ blakefriarr_: @/dawson1417 can i have a jersey

→ dawson1417: @/blakefriarr_ i will get you one from every theme night as long as they've got my number on them

→ jj.friar31: you're a TRAITOR, dawson.

njdevils: happy birthday, blake!

→ jj.friar31: happy birthday blake AND JJ. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY TOO. I'M THE EBUG!!! I'M MORE SPECIAL

→ blakefriarr_: i wouldn't say more special but you're definitely a different flavour of special

→ blakefriarr_: also technically your birthday was yesterday so stop acting like a colossal piss baby

→ jackhughes: huh

→ blakefriarr_: i REALLY did not want out of there bro i was hanging on for dear life

→ jackhughes: oh shit i thought dad had mad game

→ quinnhughes: then they wouldn't be twins ?

→ blakefriarr_: oh my god one of them has a brain cell

→ quinnhughes: glad i could be of service, congrats on being whatever age it is that you are

lhughes_06: i was gonna say happy birthday and then you said i had less braincells than quinn.

→ blakefriarr_: correction- i said quinn had one (1) braincell. therefore implying that you have none <3

lhughes_06: happy birthday jj

→ blakefriarr_: and you WONDER why i like quinn better

jackhughes: you were born on this day 🎉 jj wasn't, i guess. but happy birthday to him

jj.friar31: @/blakefriarr_ thanks for pissing off 2/3 of the hughes' i needed that

→ blakefriarr_: you're welcome it was your birthday gift

→ blakefriarr_: but just cause i'm butthurt i'll leave you with the thought that ellen would probably like me better

nicohischier: happy birthday to you and jj, thank you for calling me something normal

→ blakefriarr_: kinda weird that you don't find cap normal do you have something to share with the class

→ nicohischier: no i am 24 and i do not attend class

dougieham: i would never in a million years have thought you two were twins before your first post i actually just assumed you'd hid behind him until you got to meet us and that there was no correlation

→ blakefriarr_: is it cause i am really cool and he is just jj

→ dougieham: no.

→ dougieham: well actually sort of

→ blakefriarr_: aw thanks dougie

→ dougieham: i said sort of

ryangraves27: my head made it into this one

→ blakefriarr_: i can't tell what tone of voice this was meant to be read in

→ blakefriarr_: like are you sad?? thrilled?? terrified?? should i crop you out next time?? emote please

→ ryangraves27: i think i will not

→ blakefriarr_: this comment made me call my therapist

→ jj.friar31: thanks man she needed this

→ blakefriarr_: remember when both of the gifts had my name on them and nobody was shocked and the first one was money and things i was actually interested in and the second one was a propane torch that nobody will ever use unironically (remember which one was meant for you?)

→ jj.friar31: while ur on the phone with her can you make me an appointment too

→ blakefriarr_: she made it right before mine in case you need more time.

→ jesperbratt: you're joking about the gift thing... right?

→ blakefriarr_: they paid his college tuition

→ jj.friar31: they paid for part of your car

→ blakefriarr_: i drive an '11 civic and the check engine light has been on for a year and a half

→ jj.friar31: they pay for your apartment

→ blakefriarr_: we live together???

→ jj.friar31: that is definitely a point

view more comments..

#dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #young wild & free au !

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