#nothing unreasonable happens before 10

[monstersliveinthemirror]

Hahahahahahahahaha

[withlovemark]

Could you write whiny bf Haechan cause you won’t kiss, hug or cuddle him cause your busy pls? (make it long pls)

warning: suggestive

an: i tried to make this as long as i can!

-

“baby, im hereee,” you hear the excitement from haechan! as he entered your apartment.

“in here,” you quickly reply from your office, eyes glued to your computer, fingers typing away at the last minute task your boss had sent you.

“hi, baby,” you hear the smile in his voice, excited for the free day he finally had to be with you not knowing that you were already too deep and focused on the work in front of you.

confused as to why you haven’t reciprocated his energy, haechan makes his way over to you, softly whispering, “i said im hereee,” he teases, landing a soft kiss upon your temple.

you quickly pull away, “later, donghyuck,” knowing that the boy next to you is your biggest distraction.

“government name and everything, huh,” he frowns, arms crossed.

you were being unreasonable, you know that. but you also know that the faster you get this done, the faster you can spend the rest of your day with him - uninterrupted. so until you finish, he would just have to deal with it.

“haechan, im busy. later, ok?” you say, gentler this time but still not sparing him a glance.

“ugh fineeeee,” he says standing up, “i’ll be in your room…dying! if you even care!,” he complains dramatically before storming off and you can't help but quietly giggle to yourself at your boyfriend’s dramatic antics. you sure did miss it so.

15 minutes later

haechans booming voice startled you as he popped into the doorway of your office, making you lose focus, “can we makeout now!?”

“no...leave,” you say sternly, waving him off.

harsh, but needed to be done or else you would never get anything done.

he sighs, loudly marching back to your bedroom, making sure you could hear every step of betrayal he is currently feeling.

to be fair, you did feel awful about it. you also wanted nothing more but to wrap him in your arms.

-

10 minutes later

“how about now?,”

“haechan-,”

“babyyyy, you havent even kissed me, like hello, what happened to ‘hi my sexy adorable boyfriend haechannie i missed you so much come get all the kisses from every day you were away!?’” he pouts and you almost! break at his desperation.

“later, i promise,” you say carefully.

“you said that 25 minutes ago, its later now,”

“i really need to get this done, i promise i’m all yours after,” you give him a smile and he has no choice but to retreat back into the bedroom.

when a bad bitch tells you to do something, you just gotta do it.

-

40 minutes later

he tried. he really tried to be in his best behavior but this is absolutely ridiculous.

“okay its been past an hour, i can't take it anymore, if you don't give me at least one kiss i'm breaking up with you,” he threatens.

“haechan don't be dramatic,”

“baby i can feel myself rotting away!,” he says falling to his knees for an even more dramatic effect.

“go play a game of league, it’ll make time move faster,”

“i dont want to do thattt, i want to cuddle and hold your hand and kiss you until i can't breathe,”

“20 more minutes, pleaseee,” pulling out your puppy eyes and buying you more time.

he agrees, of course, but his patience is on thin ice.

-

exactly 20 minutes and not a second later

“heyyy my beautiful amazing girlfriend, are you ready to cuddle?,” he barges in once again.

seeing that you are still nose deep into your computer, typing away like there’s no tomorrow, he lets out a sigh.

“ok, that’s it,” marching into your office, haechan picks you up from your computer chair as you let out a startled scream before he gently places you back down on his lap, your eyes meeting the bright screen you’ve been facing for the past hour.

“what are you doing?,” you look back at him curiously.

“just wanna hold you,” he smiles innocently, hands immediately wrapping around your waist you sigh, letting it slide as you continue to work, sitting comfortably on his lap.

he keeps his word for a while watching you type then delete then retype until it all got too boring.

slowly, he moves his hand from your waist to your thighs.

“haechan-,” you warn him.

“what?, just massaging you baby, you’re so tense,” he grins, kissing your shoulder. you try your best to ignore him, not wanting to give in and haechan takes this as a sign to continue.

pushing your shorts to the side, he starts rubbing you above your panties. your breath hitches in your throat and as much as you want to tell him to stop, you can’t seem to find the words to do so. as soon as he found that spot, the clicking keyboard stopped and your boyfriend can’t help but smirk.

“will you kiss me now?,” he pleads, turning your face towards him, “pleaseee,” he pouts and you find yourself leaning in like a magnet…until…

a zoom call from your boss starts ringing throughout the room, snapping you out of your haze.

you panic, pushing haechan out of the view, before composing yourself and answering the call.

haechan sighs in defeat, guess you really do got to work.

-

two hours later

you finally finished! stretching your limbs out from sitting for so long, you wonder why the house is so quiet

“haechan!,” you excitedly call out to your boyfriend, ready to give him your full attention but you’re met with nothing but silence.

walking into your bedroom, you find your boyfriend sprawled out on your bed, light snores filling the air. you make your way to him, quietly laying by his side, careful not to wake him up, lightly brushing aside the strands of hair that have fallen over his eyes.

his hair is so long now, making you realize how much time has actually passed since you last saw him. gently you trace his features, from his sharp nose to his plump lips, the moles that sit upon his cheeks, memorizing every detail.

at your touch, haechan’s eyes flutter open, “hi,” you whisper, waking him up from his slumber.

it takes a while for him to regain his voice, looking into your eyes “am i dreaming?”

you giggle and he cant help but give you a lazy smile, “no, im here… im sorry i couldn't be present earlier, i just wanted to get it all done so i’d have more time with you,” you explain to him and he nods right away.

“it’s okay baby i understand,” he reassures you, pulling you closer.

”no, it was supposed to be an us day,” you pout, you really did feel bad about it.

”baby its okayyyy, we still have the rest of the day,” he says, placing a kiss on the frown that has etched its way upon your forehead. you sigh in content, hugging him even tighter.

“can we make out now?,” he teases, breaking the heartwarming moment the two of you were having.

you giggle before pulling him in, his soft lips finally connecting with yours.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against your lips and you can't help but moan as he pulls you in closer and closer.

your hand makes its way down, palming him through his grey sweats and he can’t help but whine under your touch, “haechannie-” you purr.

“yeah, baby?,” he whimpers.

“finish what you started earlier?,” your request earns you a smirk from him.

“yes ma’am,” he salutes before finally giving you what you both have been waiting for.

-

an: thanks for requesting! had a lot of fun writing this one! im a sucker for anything haechan but whiny, annoying, desperate bf! haechan is definitely on top of that list >.<

[81pastrys]

Grid Flirt

Part 8 / 13

Summary— The next race comes up and Horner refuses to let her qualify for the race

Warnings— Christian Horner. That’s the warning.

A/N— the next one is fun let me tell you.

Series List

After summer break we’re back in a paddock and I’m hesitant about the next race already. I look at charts and statistics from Maxs side. I can’t race for McLaren yet and not only am I mad about it, Horner is pissed.

Practices went alright. Not the best results, but to be fair I think Horner is still fucking with my car. Qualifying comes up and he tells me I’m not going on the track. “What are you talking about?”

“You aren’t qualifying, and you aren’t racing for my team again.”

“Surely you can’t do that?” I say looking to my manager.

“I can do what I want, it’s my car and it’s my team.” He shrugged. “You aren’t a part of it.”

“Really?” I ask. “Then why didn’t you get your reserve driver to replace me the rest of the season?”

“FIA wouldn’t let me.” He admitted. “So now I’m starting you back of the grid and powering you out of the race entirely.”

“Points out for you.” I scoff. “I’ve been top 10 this entire season so far.”

“I’m willing to take that sacrifice.”

“Fine then, fuck you.”

I walk to my dad’s pit and wish him luck and explain a bit of what happened. Then I head to McLarens pit and hang out there. “What are you doing here?” Brown asked smiling.

“Horner doesn’t want me qualifying, nor racing.” I say. “So I have nothing else to do.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re spending time with us!” He said. “How legal is it, what he’s doing?”

“No clue, my dad has never heard of anything like this either.” I shrug. “He’s out of points not me, I was for gaining points for constructors.”

“Well, we won’t do that to you.”

“I hope so.” I laugh. “No I think he’s just upset I called him off, and got another contract so fast.”

“We see your results and believe you’re worth working with so, he can shove off.”

I laugh and thank him watching qualifying, seeing my last name on the bottom with ‘no time’ Lando and Oscar qualify in top 5 and return the cars. They get out tired and exhausted. I congratulate them and walk to my dad’s pit again.

“Hello mi flor.” My dad said. “P8 for me and P12 for Stroll.” He smiled.

“I know!” I say. “You did good out there papi!”

“Thank you mi hija.” He said hugging me. “Go talk with Horner hm?”

“Yeah I guess.” I whine.

I walk to the RedBull pit and congratulate Max. “Why didn’t you qualify?” He asked, concerned and like a brother.

“Horner told me I couldn’t.” I shrug it off.

“So you’re starting at the back?” He asked.

“He doesn’t want me racing, I suppose he’ll let me go out for a few laps and then pull me in.”

“How are you so calm about all of this?” He asked fuming.

“I already gave him a piece of my mind a month ago Max, what else can I do?” I say, whining slightly.

“Fight for what you can?” He said. “If he isn’t putting a reserve out there, and you aren’t out there the points will plummet.”

“He understands and doesn’t care.” I say. “Maybe you can talk him into it, but no promises.”

Max scoffs and pulls Horner to the side. After about 15 minutes they emerge and Horner looks more mad than before. “I don’t want her winning more on my team Max, the answer is no!”

“Horner are you a fucking nut?” Max asked. He gained my attention. “The points will plummet, your team will go to shit!”

“Max, you’ll win the drivers championship, who gives a fuck if we lose the constructors?”

“You will, she’s always top 10 gaining you points.” Max said. “We still have 12 races, you need her scoring you points or you’ll be a laughing stock.”

“I’ll talk it over, but I don’t want her racing under my team.”

“That’s fucking childish.” Max said walking to me, grabbing my wrist and leading me to the back of the paddock. “He’s unreasonable.”

“Max, I don’t care to race.” I reassure him.

“Well then whats the point of you being a driver if you aren’t fucking driving?”

“If he’s doing this to ruin my career, it won’t work.” I say. “I can train harder, I can do the practice laps.”

“That’s not enough and you know it.” He said. “You just don’t want to accept it.”

He hugs me and I have no emotion anymore, if Horner wants to be a prick, then let him. Max is right, no matter how hard I train and how many practices I do, it isn’t really racing.

After a few hours Horner agrees to let me race. He just doesn’t want me winning. I can clearly leave that to Max. Doesn’t mean I won’t try.

Will she win? 👀

[lasirenatarot]

What makes your Future Spouse get jealous and how they express their jealousy?

Pick a picture:

1-2

3-4

Pile 1:

(Cards: 6 chalices; judgement; 4swords; 2swords; 5 of air; 7 of earth; 8 of air; the emperor)

- Honestly, this pile’s Future spouse seems like a very confident person, very sure of themselves, there are not much things that can make them jealous or question their own worth. Because of that, normally they would not even be considered as a person who gets jealous at all. They like giving you your freedom, they don’t seem like an obsessive person, they do have their set of standards when it comes to relationships and loyalty tho.

However, they do have their moments like all of us and you should not be fooled by their detached demeanor or purposely try to make them jealous, because what can happen is that they may simply leave and never come back.

Situations in which they may feel jealousy is if they see you have a deeper emotional connection with someone else, also when you’re blindly defending someone, it can make them think something like « why does my partner defend that person if they really feel nothing for them? » and that would make them suspicious of you..

They may get slightly annoyed if you constantly post pictures of yourself with a person that has a visible crush on you or is maybe too touchy with you (Or someone posts pics with you..), but this is not entirely jealousy, annoyance is the correct word here.

How do they express their jealousy?

- They seem like a mature and confident person so they definitely won’t be throwing tantrums or being childish. This is mostly due to their pride and ego.

They will check every piece of information before they even ask you sth.. they may even go through your phone to check if there is anything they should actually worry about when it comes to you and a certain person they are suspicious of. I feel like they may be the type of person to give you an ultimatum if you’ve crossed some of their boundaries,but regardless of everything I just wrote (which may seem pretty toxic) I don’t think they will be unreasonable when they get jealous.

If someone is getting a bit too « close » to you, they will expect you to draw a line and make it known you’re in a relationship. If your future spouse feels their standards are not met and feels disrespected they may even leave you. They seem pretty cut throat when it comes to loyalty. They won’t loose time arguing with you or asking you multiple times to do something they want you to do, they may have a big ego so they wouldn’t want to feel like a beggar.

Briefly, if they feel jealous, they may check your phone and all the information available and then talk to you once or twice, if something you do is really bothering them, and expect you to keep your distance from people who are interested in you.

Pile 2

(Cards: knight of wands; ace of chalices; queen of wands; the high priestess; 10 of water;the world;the empress;7 of air;the fool)

- Right off the bat, I feel like you would be the more confident, outgoing and successful one of the pair, not your future spouse. Or at least this may be true for a certain period of time during your relationship. You may be more fiery, what I am getting for you is absolutely the embodiment of the « naturally popular girl » when we were in highschool, stereotypically they would be the « nerd » and they may feel intimidated and a bit insecure around you. Your confidence may be the main reason for their jealousy. Since you may be a person who easily attracts people’s attention, your future spouse may feel like you can have pretty much everyone and that they’re easily replacable, whether or not this is actually true..

Do not get me wrong tho, you do not need to dim your light in order for them to be less insecure- this is their own problem to solve. What you can do in this situation, is to give them compliments which can uplift them and try not to give them reasons to be jealous, reassure them that they are the one for you, this may be important to them even if they don’t admit this openly.

How they express their jealousy?

- How they would show you they are jealous is a tricky question to answer honestly. They may not show you or tell you at all, you may need to figure this out on your own. They may start asking you random questions, as well as being almost « too nice » with you and fulfilling all your desires even the ones that may be at their expense, the important thing here is to not walk all over them since they may have a people pleasing tendency when it comes to you, so they can make sure they are so perfect that you wouldn’t leave them. They may become more clingy than usual.

As we all know, perfection is an illusion and it does not exist, so this perfect partner image they try to portray for you may be tiring for them to maintain.

If you notice some of their behaviors I just mentioned, talk to them and be honest with them.

Pile 3

(Cards: tower; 3of pentacles; 8wands; death; 3 of fire; the chariot; the tower; knight of earth; the hanged man)

- You will definitely know if your partner gets jealous, they wouldn’t hide it at all, they may have fire sign energy and easily get angry if someone touches what they deem as « theirs » (you). They may find you to be really physically attractive and that may make them want to keep you to themselves and be a little posessive.

They may get jealous if someone approaches you in front of them or when someone disrespects the fact that you are in a relationship with them and makes moves on you anyways..

Another thing which can make them jealous is if someone who they find to be similar to them (when it comes to qualities and what they can offer, not looks) shows interest in you in front of them.

How they express their jealousy?

- They may be pretty dramatic to be honest. This may be a drastic change from their normal behavior, normally they may be a really calm person, but if they feel someone is a threat to your relationship they may get very defensive and may even start an argument with the person who expresses interest in you in front of them.

In moments like this they get a little « primal » and don’t think things through, they may get more aggressive because when they see a threat they feel hopeless, like there is nothing else to do rather than confront the other person directly, they feel like they have to get rid of the « threat » immediately.

If they do actually have a tendency to cause scenes due to their jealousy, try talking it out with them and making them sure you would make the boundaries known if someone else approaches you.

Pile 4

(Cards: knave of air; queen of air; the magician; the priestess; the sun; 5 of water; 10 of pentacles; 10 of wands; knave of wands; knave of pentacles; 7 of swords)

- In situations where they feel jealous they may feel really hurt, even if they do not show it, it may remind them of past experiences and kind of « open an old wound » they tought they have gotten over.

Just like in one of the previous piles, they may view you as very beautiful and confident and sometimes they may feel as if they are not worthy of being with a person like you. They may be less experienced than you which can also make them paranoid you would leave them for someone more experienced.

How they express their jealousy?

- When they feel jealousy they really feel it. This can make them look a bit closed off and they may get really quiet all of a sudden, that’s how you would know that something is affecting them.

I don’t think this person will cause scenes or throw tantrums when they feel jealous at all. They are much more rational and mature. They may get some time away from you to clear their toughts and only after that they may adress the situation which made them feel jealous with you. Whenever they feel jealous, they may distract themselves with their hobbies, go out with their friends, go clubbing in order not to overthink every bit of what is bothering them. They may also get pro-active with you, give you gifts, pay more attention to you than normal, be more romantic with you..

My only advice to this pile is to be fully honest with them and try not to keep secrets from them, as this may intensify it if they do have trust issues due to their past.

thank you for reading! Hope it resonated, comment if it did.💞 Don’t forget to follow for more.

- La Sirena💋.

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 19

In the aftermath of the breakup, life in the Undercity gets even harder...

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || TW: Drowning | SFW | WC: 5.19k

beta reader: @silcoitus <3

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

The pain didn’t come back right away when you woke up. Not the heartbreak, at least. But an excruciating headache and vicious hangover split through your skull, cleaving the pink matter of your brain in half as you stumbled from Nyle’s home to the Embrace. You chugged a gallon of water before collapsing in a spare room that Teema and Cuny set aside for you, the dusty, lonely bed a far cry from the comforts of falling asleep in Silco’s embrace.

You woke up again later that afternoon, still a little nauseous. The shell of numbness had reassembled around your heart, protecting it as one last, small mercy from the universe as it trembled in your chest. But it was more fragile than you anticipated, only lasting an hour into your shift until it crumbled. Overwhelmed by a pain worse than any other injury you’d ever received in your life, a bleeding wound gushing freely. You ran back to your room, barely able to keep your sobbing under control. A visceral, tortuous agony spilling out of your chest, seeping through your skin to stain the world with thick, black clouds of grief.

It was lucky that Kharon was the one who overheard you. There was no hiding your sobs from her superior canine hearing, no matter how deeply you shoved your face into your pillow. She had knocked gently on your door and entered your room to find you weeping too hard to ask her to leave. Wordlessly, she sat on your bed and let you crawl into her lap, where you cried yourself to sleep. As thoughtful as Kharon’s gesture was, you were embarrassed that you hadn’t outgrown such a childish habit. She had cared for you when you were a baby, and you hated crying in front of her now as an adult. Especially for such a silly reason.

Because a part of you was convinced that you were being unreasonable for taking this so hard.

You had only been with Silco for eight months.

And he was just a man, one of hundreds in the Undercity.

It didn’t make sense for you to be so attached to him.

The next morning, you tried to persuade Kharon that you were fine. You told her about the breakup with a casual, lightly disappointed attitude, as if you found out the cafeteria wasn’t serving your favorite dessert tonight. She cocked her head skeptically at you, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed you. But she agreed to let you work a full shift, promising not to tell Teema and Cuny what happened.

If nothing else, you needed the work. Needed to keep moving and stay on your feet to outrun the pain that threatened to catch up to you. Needed to do something, anything to distract you from the dark, depthless void that Silco left in your life. And maybe, if you worked hard enough—moved fast enough—a strong breeze would blow the withered, desiccated husk of your heart to pieces, dust and ash floating away in the wind. Bringing a peaceful end to the never-ending ache in your soul.

Volunteering at the Embrace was a great distraction, for the most part. You managed to do most of the chores on autopilot, choosing the most strenuous tasks that your coworkers usually avoided. Ignoring mealtimes and breaks so that you could keep working alone, accompanied only by the humming of machinery or the pattering of rain on windows. Working yourself to the bone until you collapsed in your bed from exhaustion. You would sink into the heartache as it overcame you like quicksand, a sticky, viscous marsh that you couldn’t fight your way out of in your slumber. Crying yourself to sleep every night, whimpering Silco’s name like small, sad prayers that Janna or some other god might overhear, if only they would take pity on you and bring him back into your life.

But he never came.

Vander had visited the Embrace with your bag and umbrella, looking for you. When Kharon told him you were busy, he left you a note. His words were very sweet, all things considered: he was sorry to hear about what happened, and he was still your friend and brother; you were still welcome at The Last Drop, no matter what. It had you crying all over again at how much you missed your old life, that it could never go back to the way it used to be.

And you didn’t deserve Vander’s kindness, anyways. Much less Silco’s attention.

Because you’re stupid, ugly, weak, and useless. A waste of space. No better than the Topsiders who carelessly crush the Undercity under their delicate, fancy heels.

Everyone would be better off without you.

The right thing to do would be to leave the Embrace and go back to your apartment. To give up your room so someone more deserving could stay there. You were being greedy, selfishly taking up a bed you didn’t need when refugees were beginning to crowd the orphanage.

But you were too cowardly to confront the last evidence of your relationship with Silco at your home: his toothbrush; clothes; a pack of his favorite cigarettes that you kept for him; pictures you took of and with him at The Last Drop; sketches of his face, hands, and body that you tacked up on your walls… You couldn’t even bring yourself to throw away the leather bracelet he had gifted you. Instead, you clung to it like a creepy, pathetic ex-girlfriend, desperate to hold onto any last piece of your former lover, unable to make yourself cut it off. The accessory was surprisingly resilient, considering what you’ve been putting it through. You hadn’t taken it off ever since you got dumped, not even when you were elbow deep in hot, soapy water, scrubbing countless dishes in the kitchen. The threads refused to fray, and all the washing only made the silver coins shinier than ever.

In your past life, you would have wondered if its hardiness was a testament to the strength of Silco’s love for you.

Now, though…

It just taunts you.

________________________________________

Everyone who works at the Embrace cares deeply about helping people, but their passion for the job doesn’t make trash duty any easier. It’s gross, foul work, collecting all the wastebaskets in every room and the hazardous waste from the infirmary. The food waste from the kitchen is arguably the worst, due to the sheer volume alone: eggshells, fruit peels, vegetable cuttings, animal bones, cans, broken plates, table scraps, and other more disgusting bits and pieces accumulate endlessly from serving three square meals every single day. All compounded in the past week from serving the new influx of evacuees from the underground.

But it’s work worth doing, and a tiny, unbroken part of you takes pride in doing such an important task. And it helps keep people at bay whenever they try to approach you; nothing is more effective at warding people off than a giant garbage can full of soiled diapers.

You struggle with an especially heavy, overstuffed trash bag from the kitchen, straining from the effort of lifting it. Using all your strength to carry it, the very muscle fibers in your back painfully stretching to their absolute limit when a familiar voice pops up behind you.

“Let me handle that,” the voice offers, low gravel rolling in your ears.

Surprised, you almost drop the garbage, but you dig your fingers deeper into the smooth plastic, determined to handle the chore by yourself. The speaker steps carefully around you, and a pair of long legs enters your vision as the bag is taken from you. Your arms hang loose, relieved to be freed of the burden.

Still, you rush after the man as he strides to the back door, pushing it open gingerly with his shoulder. But you’re unable to catch up with him until he tosses the trash easily into a nearby dumpster, as if it were a toy ball.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say flatly, frustrated at your own failure, compounded with the anguish of seeing him again.

Silco stands in front of you, tall, lean, and graceful as ever. Even the simple gesture of him brushing dirt off his hands looks so elegant, as if he were conducting an orchestra.

“I don’t mind,” he says quietly.

The door swings shut quietly behind you, as if conscientious of the awkward silence bubbling between you both. You can feel Silco’s eyes drinking you in, and you turn away from him, embarrassed, pulling down your sleeve to hide the bracelet. Of course, you had to bump into him today of all days, when you hadn’t showered or changed your clothes in the last four days. Dirty as an actual gutter rat, a walking, talking piece of litter that belongs to the dank alleys of the underground, and not the neatly paved backstreet of the Embrace.

“What are you doing here?” The question drops from your mouth automatically, as your brain is unable to reconcile his presence here with his last words to you. Confusion roiling inside you, along with a distaste at seeing him again.

“Sevika needs a new crutch; she lost her old one in a game of cards,” he says, his voice curdling in exasperation. “Cuny asked for my assistance in exchange for a new one.”

“Are you sure we’re not distracting you from anything more important?” you ask sarcastically. Too angry with Silco to be angry at Sevika.

A muscle in his jaw twitches as he bites the inside of his cheek. “She asked me to speak with you. She’s concerned about your—”

“It’s none of your business,” you snap at him. Cursing yourself for not telling Cuny about the breakup, so she couldn’t tell him to stay away.

You stalk over to the door and grab the handle, pulling on it violently. But it refuses to open, and you swear under your breath as you rummage in your pockets for the keys.

Silco steps closer to you, calling out your name in worry. 

“I meant it when I said I still cared about you,” he says defensively. “I’m doing this for us—”

“Gee, thanks a lot. That’s really thoughtful of you,” you mutter. You jam the key into the lock and turn it quickly. Thunder rumbles in the sky as you yank the door open and shove the key into your pocket.

When he says your name again, you round on him.

“Look—I can handle being used, even for sex,” you say to him, seething even as tears well up in your eyes. “But if this is the only thing I can do for Zaun, then I’m not letting you take that away from me!”

You slam the door on his disturbed expression before running away. Sobbing as you stumble into the nearest bathroom, not bothering to take off your clothes before stepping into the shower. Letting the hot water fall on you as you collapse into a corner, arms wrapped around your knees as you pray to be washed away for good.

As if your self-loathing wasn’t already potent enough, you berate yourself for screwing up. Silco’s always been a great help whenever he visits the orphanage, and it would be wrong to deprive the Embrace of his support just because you had some petty, personal grudge against him. And he wouldn’t be replacing you if he volunteered here.

You know you need to put aside your feelings for the greater good. But you can’t bring yourself to go looking for him. It takes the last of your strength to finally peel yourself off the ceramic tile of the bathroom, fingers wrinkled from the excessive time you spent in the shower. Crawling to your bed and flopping onto it, not bothering to dry off and resume your unfinished shift.

The rain is especially heavy the next day, drenching the Embrace in relentless waterfalls. The orphanage is more crowded than ever, hordes of people milling in the entrance hall as the staff direct them to the infirmary, cafeteria, dormitories, or bedrooms, depending on their needs. You exchange hurried greetings with Powder, Felicia, and their family, all dripping wet but unharmed.

Just as you tell them their room number, loud, explosive yelling erupts behind you, a female voice arguing loudly. After you usher your friends away, you squeeze your way through the crowd towards the source of the noise.

“LET ME GO!!” Nyle screams hysterically. She’s trying desperately to pull her wrist out of Kharon’s grasp, but the Vastayan’s hold on her is rock-steady and unyielding. Kharon tries to pull Nyle into a pacifying hug, but Nyle just fights harder, slapping the canine’s wrist fruitlessly.

Cuny descends on the pair, gently taking Nyle by the shoulders. “She’s going to be okay.”

“But—but—” Nyle gasps. “Leksy was supposed to be here already—!”

“The Children are in the Lanes, helping everyone evacuate. They’ll bring her here soon,” Cuny says reassuringly. “In the meantime, you need to stay here. It’s not safe to go back.”

Someone calls out Cuny’s name, and she turns to you. You nod at her, taking Nyle’s hand as the older woman and Kharon hurry off.

Your old friend collapses in your arms, tears still streaming down her face. You hug her tightly on reflex, like you’ve done with so many other distraught parents that visit the orphanage.

“Where is she?” you ask quietly.

Nyle sniffles hard before answering, barely coherent. “She’s—she’s at home—I was with a-a Piltie client—”

“It’s okay,” you say soothingly, rubbing her back. You chew your lip as you think hard.  

Even if the Children are still helping people flee the Undercity, there’s no telling when they’ll get to Nyle’s home, or if they even know where to go. And it would be faster if you went straight to their house instead of looking for one of the mercenaries…

You gently tug at the collar of Nyle’s jacket, peeling it off her. She looks up at you with bleary eyes when you swing it around your shoulders, pulling it onto yourself. Her eyes widen in realization.

“I’m—“ she hiccups. “I’m-I’m coming with you—”

“You need to stay here,” you tell her firmly. “When Leksy comes back, she needs to see that you’re safe.”

Nyle wipes her eyes, choking out a thank-you as you walk away. She coughs as she tries to say something else, but the loud click of the door closing behind you cuts her off.

The rain greets you in cold, wet sheets, drenching your hair as you pull up your hood. Water quickly soaks through, the fabric sticking heavily to your head as you hurry to the elevators. Even in the open streets, it’s hard fighting your way through the swarm escaping the Undercity. You’re jostled and shoved around relentlessly like a rock tossed into a washing machine. When you finally reach the elevator, you’re almost bowled over by a mob of people getting off. You catch your breath as you pull the lever to descend.

The small, partially enclosed elevator provides little shelter against the weather. You rub your arms as hard as you can, a futile defense against the cold wringing through your flesh. The cacophony of the rain grows louder and louder as you approach your destination, the rain pinging off hundreds of tin roofs and metal sheets. A deafening symphony accompanying the shouting of people on the platform below, waiting to embark. You grit your teeth as you steel yourself.

Another forceful current of bodies crashes against you, almost trapping you in the corner. You elbow your way through them just in time, almost falling face-first onto the ground as the elevator ascends behind you. The water trickling into your mouth has a bitter, grimy taste now, and you wipe your mouth as you stride off towards Nyle’s home.

It’s a wet, wretched trek to the house, the waters rising slowly but surely. The puddles grow larger and deeper as you forge your way through them. By the time you reach Nyle’s front door, the water is sloshing around your ankles, soaking through your boots and socks.

“Leksy!!” you shout as you bang her front door.

Even after you shake water out of your ears, you can’t hear any response from the inside. You pat down the jacket with icy, numb hands and luckily find a key in the front pocket. The door drags against the ground as you unlock it and pull it through the water, sending waves cascading against your knees.

Startled, you jerk to a halt as you see Sevika sitting at the kitchen table, lip curled in a snarl as she tries fruitlessly to light a cigarette. Her crutch floats away underneath the table as Leksy chases it down.

“Leksy!” you say, relieved, plowing through the water towards her.

She turns to you, surprised, her tiny hands wrapped around the crutch’s handle. You take it from her, propping it against the table before you hug her.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’m scared,” the girl whimpers as she buries her face in your neck. “I want my mom.”

“She’s waiting for you at the Embrace,” you say. “I know it’s scary, but we need to leave right now. Are you ready?”

Leksy doesn’t respond, but she clings to you tighter. You kiss her hair before pulling away, looking her in the eye.

“Did you know that your mom is a lioness?” you ask her.

Her gaze back at you is uncertain. You pick her up, balancing her on your hip as you jerk your head at the crayon drawing of the animal on the far wall. The beautiful, golden feline is intact, the vibrant color unaffected by the water soaking through the wallpaper in dark, oblong splotches.

“Lionesses never let anything bad happen to their cubs,” you say patiently. “She’s always with you, and she’s going to protect you no matter what.

“I promise we’ll get you to her,” you continue, trying not to blink as water drips from the ceiling to land on your face. “If it’s too scary, you just have to hold onto me. Can you do that for her?”

She swallows hard, then nods, a new determination gleaming in her eyes. Her arms wrap around your neck as you turn to Sevika.

“Come on!” you urge her. Doing your best to hold back your frustration with Nyle; during her breakdown, she must have forgotten to mention Sevika’s presence in her home.

“Take the kid.” She doesn’t look at you, but flicks her cigarette into the water with an annoyed sigh. “I’m not going anywhere with this foot.”

You bite back a retort about how the Children are too stubborn for their own good. “We’re in the middle of the flood zone here—"

“Then take me upstairs,” Sevika says, bored.  

“No way,” you say impatiently. Carefully, you nudge her crutch towards her with your foot. “It’s too dangerous. I’m not leaving you behind.”

You choke back a scream of frustration when she doesn’t move. “Vander and Benzo would never forgive me if you died here. Please!”

“I’ll be fine. You should go ahead.”

“Sevika… please… I already lost one person I cared about,” you say desperately. Eyes already burning from the tainted rain, the sting of tears welling up has you blinking furiously as memories of Silco flash through your mind. “I can’t lose another.”

The mercenary glances sideways at you. You could swear that something in her stoic expression melts, her frown softening as she reaches out for her crutch. She pushes herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the table while it creaks loudly. When you reach out to help her, she shakes her head at you. “Let’s go.”

“What were you doing here?” you ask as you pull your jacket tight around Leksy. You trudge towards the front door, pushing it open wide for your friend.

“Babysitting. Nyle said she’d give me a discount,” Sevika says dourly, raising her voice to be heard over the rain. “Rotten day for it.”

“Rotten” is putting it lightly. Even on a good day, the Undercity’s unpaved roads can be difficult to navigate. But now, flooded with toxic rain and people running around everywhere, traversing the streets becomes positively hazardous. You try to provide Sevika with what little support you can, walking as close to her as possible, trying to be a bulwark against other Zaunites. She scowls as she’s almost knocked off her feet by a man chasing down a wooden crate floating past her. 

Your own frustration at the situation rises along with the water levels as your attention is split between your two companions, unable to fully help one without neglecting the other. Vision smearing from the dirty water dripping down your face, tiny grains irritating the inner corners of your eyes. As you cradle Leksy to your chest, your hands begin to itch, a telltale sign of overexposure to the polluted rain. If that wasn’t bad enough, the flash flooding is due to begin any minute. 

“We need to get to higher ground,” you call out to Leksy and Sevika.

You jerk your head at a nearby building, at least six stories tall; the brick is crumbling and dilapidated in places, but the fire escape looks sturdy enough. The roof is crowned by a geometric mess of metal scaffolding, glinting dully in the dark sky. 

A large piece of plywood floats past your leg as you help Sevika hobble into the alleyway. She leans heavily against the wall, her shoulder almost slipping off until she catches herself on a nearby dumpster. You stand on tiptoe and stretch as high as you can, missing the ladder by inches. But you can’t reach it, no matter how energetically you swipe at the bottom rung.  

“Leksy,” you murmur into the child’s ear. “You first. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” her voice is squeaky but determined as her arms loosen around your neck. You lift her up, her shoes digging painfully into your shoulders before she scrambles up the ladder. Her boots splash onto the landing as she climbs on. She tries with all her might to push down the ladder for you and Sevika, but the ladder is stuck; Leksy’s strength isn’t enough to dislodge it, and the rain isn’t helping matters either as her grip keeps slipping. The girl screams and kicks it, the metal shaking in ghostly, echoing vibrations.

“It’s okay,” you shout to her. “Do you remember the way to the Embrace?”

She nods at you. You’re barely able to make her out in the rain, but you do your best to give her an encouraging smile as you shout, “Go ahead! Your mom’s waiting for you!”

“But—”

“We’ll be okay,” you say determinedly, trying to convince yourself as well as the child.

Leksy hesitates, biting her lip before she nods again. She dashes up the stairs, her echoing stomps rising above your heads as she ascends, fading away as she jumps onto the roof. 

You turn to Sevika. She clutches her leg, grimacing in pain when she tosses the crutch aside. It splashes onto the water in two broken pieces, drifting away like sad flotsam. A slash in her pants reveals a long, fresh cut above her knee, freely dripping blood to stain her pants a dark red, almost black. 

Confusion, then frustration flashes across Sevika’s face as she examines the wound. You don’t bother asking her what happened as you reach out for her. This time, she accepts your aid freely, slinging her arm around your shoulders. Her weight almost forces your knees to buckle, a heavy load forcing you to lean lopsidedly to support her. Your back strains as the two of you limp sideways through an open doorway, entering the building opposite the fire escape. An abandoned lantern hanging from a hook illuminates a staircase on the far wall. The two of you slosh your way slowly through the water, carefully maneuvering around the partially submerged furniture.

However miserable you are, you know that Sevika’s suffering is much worse. Her pain is exacerbated as the two of you climb the stairs, her grunts huffing against your neck.

“I need a break,” she admits as you reach the rooftop access door. You do your best to lower her carefully to the ground, but she still lands heavily with a pained hiss.

“Sorry,” you say hastily. You crouch down, pulling at your pants leg. The wet fabric is stubborn, but you set your jaw, grinding your teeth as you struggle to rip the hem, tendons straining painfully. Your knuckles turn white as your fingernails dig into your palms, and the cloth finally splits. After tearing off the sleeve, you quickly wrap Sevika’s cut, her blood staining the improvised bandage a bright red.

“Can’t we wait it out?” she asks in a strained voice.

“You need to get that cut looked at; it could get infected. And I need to make sure Leksy’s okay.” You stumble into the wall, your back colliding into the brick. Exhausted, you slide down to sit next to Sevika, her elbow bumping against yours. The two of you pant like dogs, trying to catch your breath as you huddle against your friend for warmth. 

The mercenary hmmphs in disapproval. She scratches her face, no doubt itchy from the toxic rain. “I could’ve gotten there myself. You’re an idiot, and we all know it.”

“So are you,” you let out a tired laugh. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

She doesn’t bother answering. Another moment passes in silence, except for the low huffs of your labored breathing. Your knees protest as you get to your feet, your bones grinding painfully as you turn to Sevika. She pushes her wet bangs out of her face as she looks up at you. Her gray eyes watch you steadily as water drips down her cheeks. When you hold your hand out to her, she clasps your forearm, her strong fingers gripping you tight as she pulls herself to her feet.

The two of you resume your three-legged trek, finally arriving at the roof. Up close, the scaffolding looks much more fragile, a candyfloss spiderweb stretching between the two buildings. At least the wooden planks you observed from the ground are just wide enough for one person to cross at a time.

As you point the makeshift bridge out to Sevika, a roaring, rushing deluge of water crashes into the alleyway, dirty gray water splashing high up against the walls. Thunderous explosions of shattering glass intensify the noisiness of the flood, and you wince as you’re unable to cover your ears. Streetlights flicker anemically before they go out, plunging the world into darkness. When you peek over the roof’s edge, you can’t determine the exact height of the water, but the dumpster is completely submerged.

“You first,” you say to Sevika, slowly walking with her up to the scaffolding.

She shifts her weight gingerly onto her uninjured leg, the strain on your shoulders lessening as she balances herself unsteadily. You put a careful hand on her back as she pulls herself onto the platform, her hands slapping the thin metal pipes as her grip tightens around them. The wooden plank dips as she pulls herself along. Unable to tear your eyes away from Sevika’s halting journey across the gap, you pray to Janna to keep her safe.

At last, she reaches the other side, almost stumbling onto the other roof as her leg gives out. Stubbornly, she pushes herself to her feet, leaning sideways as she waves at you to come over.

You swallow hard as you step onto the platform. The metal is chilled, hard, and smooth under your palm as you grip the railing tightly, water pooling in the gaps between your fingers.

Goosebumps break out on your skin. Fear has you shivering harder than the weather.

You’re so high up.

The rain lands on the flooded alley below, tiny cones of water splashing upwards. You can’t help but imagine them as sharp spikes, waiting to stab you if you fall.

The scaffolding shudders and rattles in the wind, threatening to blow you off. 

You shouldn’t have looked down.

“Come on!” Sevika’s worried voice calls out to you, strangely distant as if she were flying away on an airship.

You bite your tongue, trying to snap out of it. You narrow your gaze at your boots. Focusing on putting one foot carefully in front of the other.

The wood creaks underneath your shoes.

It splinters in a jagged, horizontal zigzag, splitting faster than you can move—

It snaps in half.

Your foot falls through the air.

You drop—

Your heart leaps into your throat—

Air whooshes past you—

You crash into the water with a loud splash. The water burns your eyes and skin, and you cough instinctively, dirty, bitter water filling your mouth.

You flail wildly, panicking, heart racing, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Somehow, your head breaks the surface. You sputter and spit, gasping for air. Hair plastered to your eyelids, you blink furiously. Your vision is blurry, eyes stinging from the polluted water.

High above you, Sevika yells your name.

You hate that even now, you can’t help but think of Silco. Swimming in much worse circumstances than your first date. But you try to remember his advice:

Pedal your legs. Spread your arms out and push downwards. The water is your cushion, not your enemy.

Your body follows Silco’s instructions of its own volition. Treading water clumsily, but adequately enough for you to gain your bearings. You squint hard at a nearby broken window. The opening looks just big enough for you to fit through—

CRACK!!

A brick hits your head. Blunt and instant pain radiates through your skull, wiping out all other sensations except for the throbbing agony.

Dazed, you sink into the water.

You hear a faraway yell, garbling into an unintelligible shout as water fills your ears.

You breathe—

Pain shoots through your nose, throat, lungs. Burning hot as if you swallowed fire instead of water. Your chest crushed as your heart pumps frantically. Harder, harder, harder, about to burst under your ribs in a desperate plea for air.

You try to cough. Bubbles dance out of your mouth.

There’s no air.

Only water.

Your body convulses from the pain. Replaced by a dull ache. Shrinking to a pinprick.

The world dims in the already dark water.

Your hand floats in front of your face.

(“There’s peace, in water.”)

He’s not wrong.

(“Every problem in the world will fade away.”)

Sevika and Leksy will be okay. They’re halfway to safety. Someone will find them.

You keep sinking.

Your backside bumps against the ground.

Ragged strands of leather float in front of your face. The silver coins gleam unnaturally bright. Silco’s bracelet must have snapped off your wrist.

It floats upwards towards the sky.

You try to move. Your pinky twitches, smearing into a blur as you blink sluggishly.

It’s dark. Quiet. Peaceful.

(“And all the while, this question lingers before you…

‘Have you had enough?’”)

You haven’t—

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! My inbox is also open to requests for both sketches and drabbles, or just to chat. Feel free to say hi :3c

Chapter 20

[pixeldolly]

The Sacrifice - Part 10

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"The idol's gone, Eliza. I displaced it into Yg's core; if that doesn't melt it, nothing will. Either way, nobody's ever getting their hands on it again."

Yg...the name flashed through Eliza's reeling mind. It was an incalculably old star, a bloated red giant orbited by the lifeless husks of three nameless planets on a plane of existence so remote, fact gave way to rumor and conjecture.

None of that mattered.

Not even her disfigurement mattered, weighed against this new calamity.

Eliza could have struck Fiona dead right then and there, if she hadn't been frozen in utter terror.

The Chkrxgmbvegh, the Nameless One, also felt the shift in the planes.

It felt the inexorable pull of the abyss, as its hold on the material plane began slipping away. Already, it could smell the familiar stench of sulphur and rot and hear the cries of the damned, but the demon was furious.

It had been cheated.

"Witch! Thisss iss your fault! Your sssuffering shall be legendary, even in Hell!"

It did not specify which of the two witches it was speaking to, but Eliza Clare could sense the demon's red-hot ire even as it was pulled into a vortex of lurid un-light. That burning, vengeful anger was aimed at her.

"No, please! It wasn't my fault! SHE's the one, SHE did it!"

"I'll fix it, I swear! I'm begging you, give me another chance!"

Eliza's pleas fell on deaf ears. If the demon was listening, it didn't care; all it cared about was revenge.

She screamed as the fire ignited under her feet, engulfing her with a speed that was unnatural, unstoppable. Eliza thought she knew pain, but she was soon to be disabused of that notion.

She also knew with a certainty that did not originate within herself that this, too, would pale before future torments. Demons did not forgive.

And there was nothing she could do to change it. In a flash of insight dying minds are sometimes granted, Eliza realized that she had been hurtling towards the inferno all along, unable to feel the heat.

Maybe, once, a different outcome had been possible, but the point of no return had come and gone long ago. For the first time in decades, Eliza tasted regret, bitter as a mouthful of poison.

And then, she saw.

A stern father, a Jacoban preacher, trying to "beat the magic out of her."

A resentful mother berating her, knowing she could never, ever be good enough.

Herself as a young woman, vowing she would never be made to feel powerless again, no matter the cost. Sentiment was a weakness to be exploited, which she would cut out of herself as one would an infection.

Her son in her arms, her resolve weakening. It did not break.

Her son...

Then, Eliza saw no more.

"Wh- What happened? Where'd that thing go? Uuughh, I feel like I was hit by a goddamn truck!"

"Banished back to its home dimension. It sounded none too pleased about it, which means a certain blonde witch is being shown the hospitality of the Hellplanes as we speak."

"The fire...shit, are those ashes...?"

"Yep. Didn't leave much behind, did she?"

"Fucking hell - Roman!"

"He's fine. Luckily, the demon only took Eliza."

"Luckily? Sounds like you weren't sure what would happen."

"Well, I wasn't, exactly. I made an educated guess that it would see Eliza as the bigger prize. She'd sold her soul to that thing years ago - Roman was an advance payment on that debt, but it was never going to be enough. The Nameless One was toying with her; it would've demanded more and more, until she could no longer pay."

"Uhuh. And what if it had decided to take both of them?"

"That was a possibility, but I figured it only had enough power left to take one or the other."

"You gamble an awful lot with people's lives, Fiona."

"Considering the alternative was that we all died, I like to think it wasn't unreasonable."

"Fair, I guess. I'm okay too, by the way. Fuck, this bite burns like a motherfucker though! Is demon spit toxic?"

"Jacob...?"

"I'm here. Everything's going to be okay!"

"Where is -"

"It's gone. Fiona banished it; I think. You're safe now."

"And my...mother?"

Jacob pursed his lips; giving that woman the title of "mother" felt like a travesty.

"She's gone too."

"You...How did you know...?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you all the details later, but right now we need to get you to a hospital. How...how are you feeling?"

"Hurts. But - Jacob..."

"Shhhhh."

"Thank you..."

[romanceclub-confessionss]

Okay so I saw the post about Radha, Raj, and Amrita and I want to say something about it but I am afraid to contradict some of the people because they seem a bit unreasonable and would attack you for your opinion. The also are insulting people who agree with it. So I am going to explain why that person said what they did or potentially why. This comes from somebody who is an avid reader I read visual novel games, fanfiction, and books I have 10 plus years of reading with critical thinking of details in stories and understanding of characters.

Okay let’s start with the whole Radha is groomed I am of the opinion that did not happen based on how the Basu family is described. You think Vidya, Doran, or Sara would allow Raj to live if any of them believed he manipulated and used Radha for his gain. Grooming victims are described as being naive easy to manipulate that is not Radha at all she is being taught how to become a leader in time when women in power were looked down upon. You think part of her education from Vidya wasn’t about being able to spot manipulations from men who would want to use her and manipulate her. You think Radha wouldn’t do anything to a man who thought he could use her as an example of why not to mess with her like what Sara did to Rati when Rati insulted Sara. To me to say that Radha is a victim of grooming by Raj is an insult to Radha and her intelligence and her capabilities of being a leader you are saying that when a good looking guy comes into the picture all of Radha’s training disappears. My interpretation of how this relationship started was that it happened when Devi was in Bombay which made Radha 18 when this relationship started I can’t find information on how old Raj is but the oldest I think he is is 30 which is not a great look but from the interaction that we see while they are at the mountain retreat is that Raj is trying to end their relationship because even though BOTH of them have feelings for one another it is not the time for their families bloodlines to unite Radha is the one who says no let’s continue this affair in secret because I am what you want and we should be together. In grooming relationships the groomer has all the power in this relationship it looks like equal partnership with them. Also we know that Sara and Radha believe that men are tools for their entertainment you think a women who think men are like animals for their amusement can be manipulated and controlled by one. You guys don’t think Sara wouldn’t kill Raj if he groomed and used Radha her twin Sara straight up killed someone to protect Radha’s secret which means that Sara knows that BOTH Radha and Raj went into this willingly together. I want everyone to know that in my opinion guys Vidya knows about Raj and Radha. When Vidya tells Raj you are practically like family to me she is saying that she knows Raj is the one who got her daughter pregnant and she is not happy at all. I believe that part of the reason there is tension between the Basus and Doobays is because Vidya knows about the affair and is mad at both Raj and Radha then that anger multiplies when Radha gets pregnant. I also believe the reason that Vidya is not passing the reins to Radha is because she knows about the affair with Raj and believes that Radha needs more training before she becomes leader of the dozen and the Basu family. Vidya loves her daughters and I get the impression that if anyone hurt or used her daughter she would kill them no matter what and I guarantee that Doran would be there to help Vidya.

Let us move on to another topic people who say that Radha owes Amrita nothing. You do remember that Amrita is/was friends with the Basu twins. Which means that Radha slept and had a relationship with a friend’s fiancé. I could never justify doing that to someone who was a friend to me. Also the reason that Amrita is not close to her friends is the fact she is engaged and is learning about her future role along with getting to know her future husband. I also don’t understand how Raj can get to know his fiancé as a person and continue seeing someone else. Raj has hurt Amrita she knows that Raj doesn’t love her and she will be trapped in an loveless marriage, but can you imagine the pain of knowing that someone who was friends with you was sleeping with your fiancé behind your back and your fiancé cares about them more than you. I also love Radha as a character but I can hate and be critical of her choices this is what makes her multi dimensional and a fascinating character making her a victim of grooming makes her more flat and not as interesting of an character. I also believe that everyone missed the point of what the poster of the post was saying Radha and Raj are BOTH to blame for this situation they both knew better but continued it and now there is fallout because of their actions. Radha and Raj both hold blame on this no one forced this relationship they both willingly went along with it. Raj being the older one who also wanted to stop his relationship with Radha should have stuck to his original intentions Raj is older and is already a leader he knew better then to continue the affair, but it doesn’t excuse Radha because when she became older and almost became the the official leader Radha knew better as well then to continue her affair with Raj. Amrita is truly the only one who has no blame in this and everyone loves to hate on her when in reality Amrita is a victim in this and is going to experience unbelievable pain and betrayal from this. Some people missed the point on the post both Radha and Raj deserve equal blame in all of this no one is saying Raj is an angel because he is not but not enough people point that out the fact that Radha is 23 when she gets pregnant she knows better then to continue this affair and face possible repercussions of her affair with Raj. People treat Radha like she was forced against her will to be in this relationship when she wasn’t at all Raj and Radha were equal partners in their relationship. Therefore the both hold equal blame for what happened. Radha is no angel and that is okay because no one is in this story is and that is what makes everything so interesting.

Well that's a big confession 🤯

Sorry but we cannot edit such a big confession, even if we try would be a mess ( fun fact: we did try and turn out to be 5 images 😬)

This is something to have in mind before sending a confession, the length of the confession shouldn't excess 100 words, thanks!

-mod lyn

[skatingbi]

WELCOME TO PART 3 OF MY SANJI WITH HETEROCHROMIA SERIES!!!!

Oh my god. Yall are insane. 700+ Notes for part one of this series alone is crazy (Crazy? I was- *gets shot*). So heres part 3. I'll probably have to publish all this onto AO3 soon bc shits getting outta hand, but I like posting on this silly little site so I'll still be posting on here.

Uhhh this was posted WAY later than I anticipated bc i had a gnarly depressive episode and had to enroll into uni, but there aint no way id abandon this series, its too fun and i love experimenting with my baby writing style as i call it.

Okay thats it, just thank u all sm for enjoying my silly little series :) u guys are so sweet!!

P.S. Constructive criticism is OKAY! I havent written fanfic in like...10 years so since middle school. Im a baby at this and I understand if I may have several errors so pls lemme know if theres grammar mistakes!

Sanji With Heterochromia Series Part 3 below 🔻

Sanji lied. He does like the idiot. More than he's willing to admit. A few days after their conversation, Zoro distances himself. It leaves a nasty feeling in his gut similar to nausea but different from actually wanting to throw up. It feels apprehensive. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what yet. Sanji hates it. He hates how confused he is and how much he actually wants Zoro to touch him again. He hates the burning linger of scarred knuckles on his cheekbone that follows him wherever he goes.

He hates these feelings because he never learned how to really process them. He doesn't know if he has to blame himself, his shitty excuse of a father, or Zeff. Well, maybe not Zeff. The old man had enough on his plate while raising him as it was. Sanji decides to blame it on Judge because honestly, the root of most of his issues stems from that shitty old man anyway. Placing the blame on someone does little to actually help, but it's a distraction from his growing realization of how much he cares for Zoro.

He cares for Zoro. No, he holds an unreasonable amount of affection for the scarred swordsman that haunts his thoughts now more than ever. Fuck questioning sexuality when it's undeniable that he's absolutely whipped for the big idiot. Theres no room for denial anymore, not when his touch had become branded across Sanji's skin for the foreseeable future.

Stress cooking does little to soothe him and it's the same with smoking. At least Luffy gets to enjoy snacks to his hearts content. Its the little things, he tries to tell himself. He also reflects on his conversation with Zoro. How he honestly felt afraid of what he felt when the swordsman confronted him. He felt afraid of someone genuinely caring for his emotional wellbeing. He's anxious over what that means, what it would do to him if Zoro truely meant what he said. All the things voiced about him and the implications that he's...handsome in the eyes of Zoro.

Sanji is emotional. It comes with him being sentimental as well. He's the black sheep of his biological family in every way. He loved too hard, and got hurt too fast. He loved even when it ended in betrayal. Secretly, he loves unconditionally. What would happen if he loved Zoro like that, and what if it already happened and he's too late to stop it? Would Zoro hurt him just like everyone else has? Would he be pushed away eventually after the thrill of their theoretical short lived relationship?

It keeps him up at night, that conversation replaying in his head as he stares at Zoro's sleeping silhouette. He falls asleep to his breathing, echoing throughout the room over everyone else's breath and snores. He wakes up every morning before the sun greets him and pretends nothing happened in his dreams where Zoro's gentle touch and admiration lingers softly over his mind.

Zoro knows. Well, not exactly. He's not a mind reader like how Luffy seems to be, but he knows that distancing himself from Sanji is actually doing the opposite of what he thought it would do. At this point, the swordsman isnt sure where to go from here.

Sanji's actions contradict his words. Sanji stares at Zoro. Not so much that it's s uncomfortable but it's enough to be noticeable. Sometimes he swears he can see Sanji's eyes dart across his face and down to his lips before looking away. It's confusing. Didnt Sanji hate Zoro's advances towards him? Because thats what they were in hindsight.

Zoro was unconciously flirting with the cook in his own weird way. And yeah, he's a little stupid for not realizing the implications behind his actions at first, but it all started as genuine curiosity. He didnt mean for it to affect their rivalry. Now, he's not sure where to go from here.

It's driven him between a rock and a hard place and unforfunately for him, Nami decides to intervene again. This time, Nami drags Zoro to her and Robin's shared room on the Sunny for privacy and possibly interrogation. He's certain that this time he wont be able to escape. Unfortunate.

"Okay, so heres how this is gonna go," Zoro and Nami are now seated across from each other, where theres two beds and enough room for decent sized dressers on each side. Zoro sits on what he assums is Robin's bed with his arms crossed, "You will tell me everything- And i mean it! I will know if youre lying -and I will help you. Im sick and tired of you both being miserable and gay! It's giving everyone second hand embaressment." She demands, narrowing her eyes with a challenge for Zoro to protest or say no.

Zoro is smart enough to know what is and isn't a losing battle. This is one of those. Nami can be terrifyingly persistent once she sets her mind on something, and today it seems to be resolving the weird and awkward tension between him and Sanji. The swordsman resigns himself to his fate quickly and prepares himself to be trapped here on Robin's bed for the foreseeable future.

"Fine witch," Zoro sighs, "But if you tell anyone I will not be responsible for my actions." He huffs out in acceptance for his inevitable interrogation.

"Oh please like that'll actually scare me. Plus besties never snitch." Nami rolls her eyes. She gets comfortable on her bed and look at zoro expectantly. He rolls his eyes and relaxes his posture a bit.

Zoro starts talking, beginning with the first instance of his realization of Sanji having dual colored eyes, leaving out a lot of "unimportant" details. He mentions the second, and the third instance, and their conversation from a few days ago and how he tried to respect Sanji's establishment of a boundary and how he's confused now that Sanji stares at him. Nami listens with her chin resting on her fist and nodding along the way, surprisingly not interrupting once. He finishes speaking and he knows his face is red with embaressment, but he feigns nonchalance and waits for Nami's input.

"Zoro," Nami sighs, "Youre the dumbest bitch I know." She says while giving the man a look of sympathy, but not one that actually means it. More like the look of someone who is so incredibly done with your shit that they have no choice but to tell you so.

"What the fuck, Nami!? Im not dumb!" The swordsman retorts loudly.

"Anyways," his best friend ignores his arguing in favor of getting to the task at hand, "Luckily, this is fixable. For making the entire crew feel awkward for two weeks, I'm adding a 200 percent tax increase to your debt." She smiles mischeviously, and thats when Zoro realizes that one, he's never getting out of debt, and two, he's been forced to accept Nami's help in unfucking up his unconcious attempts to flirt with Sanji.

"First order of business is that you have absolutely no game." Nami begins with a shit eating grin to match the absolutely insulting statement. Zoro briefly reconsiders their friendship.

"Shut the fuck up I obviously do." He rolls his eyes. Nami gives him the look. The one where her eyebrows are raised and her chin is tilted down slightly, matching the frown. It's that look she makes when she's trying to say 'Are you sure?' or 'Reconsider what you just said.' and it grates at Zoro's already increasing agitation.

He decides not to entertain her with a reply.

"Anyway," Nami sighs, massaging the space between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger to stave off a growing headache, "Im teaching you how to flirt. No, you cannot work out in front of Sanji- dont give me that look you muscle brained idiot!" She says while looking at Zoro's ever increasing looks of annoyance and audacity, because first of all, no he definitely was not going to do that, and second of all, it could hypothetically work. Probably.

"Fine," He huffs. He'll let the witch do whatever. It's not like theres anyone else he can talk to on the ship about this anyway, "No promises that I'll actually do what you tell me."

"Fucking- oh my god why am I friends with you?!" Nami complains before flopping down on her bed, groaning loudly at Zoro's malicious cooperation. Zoro basks in the momentary power he has in this situation.

For the next few hours, Nami allows Zoro to stay in the womens quarters for the sole purpose of learning how to actually flirt. He's not sure if shes a reliable source, being a lesbian and also having a girlfriend already, but if he voiced this opinion out loud the redhead would probably kick him out. He only restrains himself because this room is the only one so far where he feels the least amount of awkwardness regarding his situation with Sanji.

Robin stops by every now and then and gives him a smile. It doesnt make him feel very comfortable but it's the thought that counts. She doesnt say anything about him being there, anyway. He makes an effort to at least not lay on the bed he's sitting on, though. He may be lazy but he does hold enough respect for the women in the crew to not fuck with their shared safe space.

Suddenly, it's the evening and dinner is around the corner. Nami shoves a barely enlightened mossy swordsman out of the womens bedroom to finally be free of that headache. Also known as a crash course to flirting with your rival/friend/whatever the fuck else they got going on.

Zoro makes his way to the gallery, taking his time to look out and observe the oncoming sunset that bathes the sky in shades of pink, orange, blue, and yellow. It would be a pretty sight to fall asleep to, he thinks, but the cook would kick his ass off the ship if he decides to sleep through dinner again.

Entering the gallery, everyone except Nami is already there. She's right behind him a second later and taking her seat at the kitchen table.

Numerous conversations are heard as food is served. Franky and Usopp are wildly talking about different types of projectiles the sunny could use, Nami and robin are talking amongst each other in low voices, giggling in between sentences. Chopper and luffy are laughing together, and Zoro goes to sit next to luffy like he usually does. Just as he sits down, the cook lands a kick to his mid back, making Zoro scowl.

"The fucks that for!?"

Sanji rolls his eyes while placing plates of food down for the crew, "For being late, dumbass."

"Nami is late too!"

"And? She'd never be late on purpose, Marimo." as Sanji speaks, he dodges the hilt of Zoro's sword to his side instinctively and has the audacity to give a cheeky grin.

Dinner passes by normally. Everyone's loud conversations meld together gradually and soon everyone except Sanji and Zoro leave. Zoro takes his usual spot beside the cook, drying dishes and leaving them on a towel afterwards so they can both put them away.

Zoro has half the mind to bring up Sanji's staring, but decides against it. It leaves the air silent, neither him nor Sanji speaking up as they finish their side work for the night. Even then, Zoro's unable to speak when Sanji immediately leaves afterwards without a word.

The kitchen feels empty without their bickering, and Zoro is determined to bring that life back into it. He just needs to figure out how.

Despite Nami's advice, Zoro has an idea. If the idiot cook doesnt see what he sees (His pretty face first of all, but Zoro thinks of his strength too. How Sanji easiely brushes off conflict like it's nothing despite the injuries that'll heal far faster than his own), then he'll make him see it. Frilly words never were Zoro's style, anyways.

One night before they all go to sleep and Zoro takes night watch, he corners the blond in the bathroom. Nami would probably be kicking his ass because of his timing, but a mirror is needed for his plan to work and the bathroom is the only place with one other than the women's bedroom.

When Zoro enters, Sanji turns to look at him before going back to washing his hair, his back towards Zoro. "Leave me alone, Moss, I'm im not in the fuckin mood," He grumbles to Zoro, who stands there waiting for Sanji to stop talking.

"Nope, I need a mirror for this and for you to listen for five minutes." Zoro replies, and when Sanji turns to argue his protests are gone from his lips when he sees a look of determination. Confused, annoyed, and also curious, Sanji doesn't reply.

Zoro walks up to Sanji until he's standing right behind him. The swordsman moves to kneel so they're relatively at the same height, but the stool makes Sanji slightly taller as he sits there and eyes Zoro warily.

"Whats going on with you, Moss? I'm trying to wash my hair." Sanji says, and Zoro can tell an insult dies on his tongue when he places his hands on Sanji's shoulders.

Zoro turns Sanji in front of the mirrior in the bathroom, the stool Sanji is seated on creaking lightly and scratching against the tile. Sanji remains speechless, still unable to brush off Zoro's palms on his bare shoulders like how he'd usually do.

"Tell me what you see, cook" He says, uncharacteristically soft underneath the edge his voice always seems to have. Sanji flinches when the swordsman's calloused hands tuck his frings behind his ear, displaying his face to them both.

"What the hell is up with you? Did Luffy hit your head too hard?" Sanji furrows his eyebrows at the mirror and looks at Zoro. Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Just tell me what you see about yourself, shit cook, I'll leave ya alone after or whatever." He grumbles back, the baritone of his voice vibrates against Sanji's back. It reminds him of Zoro's compliment, his face too close to his while they stand on the deck of the Sunny just days ago. He chooses to ignore how it makes him shiver.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and his first instinct is to look away. Zoro, being the perceptive bastard that he is, notices and squeezes his shoulders in a way thats strangely reassuring.

"It doesnt have to be fancy, cook, I know you like to use big words 'n shit so don't make your brain fuckin explode." Sanji bristles a bit at that but bites back a nasty insult so he can entertain Zoro's weird exercise on his own self reflection.

In the mirror he always sees his mom at first, but with both eyes uncovered and his hair pushed back for once, he sees himself. The first thing he sees is his eyebrows and eyes. He decides not to bring up his eyebrows.

"Well, for your information I see my eyes, but you already know that."

Zoro stays silent, and Sanji shuffles in his seat. He's suddenly aware he was literally in the middle of rinsing his hair of shampoo a few minutes ago and the entire situation is both awkward and uncharacteristic of Zoro in multiple ways. It's out of character, and he should have kicked out the moss ball when he had the chance, but now in the too small bathroom of the Sunny he feels like it's only him and Zoro. It leaves a weightless feeling in his chest, settling in with the creeping anxiety of looking at his own reflection. The contrasting feelings make him hesitate before he speaks.

"I see.." He hesitates, not knowing exactly what Zoro is getting from this or what he wants to hear, "My eyebrows, I guess. Wait, you've never seen both at once." Sanji chuckles at that, because his eyebrows are certainly something. The curl points in the same direction, but it's unnoticeable with how he wears his hair.

"Yeah, they're weird as fuck." Zoro mumbles, and the blond has to laugh or else the swordsman's voice would get to his head.

"Okay, I also see freckles. Those are new. Only started showing up when I joined you all." And Sanji now notices how the freckles cluster on the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, and his shoulders. They're scattered everywhere else on his body.

Sanji starts to realize the point of Zoro's questioning now. He looks at the fogged mirror, just visible enough to notice how his blush not only spreads across his cheeks but also down his neck. Embarrassing. This whole situation is embarrassing not only because of where they are but also because he's realizing that Zoro is trying to make a point that is too close to unearthing his insecurities. He would have expected this from Luffy, but sometimes he forgets how Zoro's intelligence is masked behind his swordsmanship and how much he sleeps during the day.

And he's naked, but honestly thats the least of his problems at the moment.

"I see my hair, I guess?" Sanji tries to only focus on his face. Its not easier, but it also sets up a mental boundary. Zoro hums, looking at Sanji through the mirror. Sanji hesitates before speaking again, "My hair is actually wavy," He thinks about his mom's wavy blonde hair, and how he always thought it looked pretty even before she passed, "Its damaged, though. Straightened to hell and back with one of those hot combs."

Sanji thinks back to the hot combs. They were old as shit, the kind that needed to be heated up with a flame. The memories make him chuckle a bit, and Zoro smiles back. The same smile he wore when they sparred on the deck, with his dimples visible yet again to confirm to Sanji that he does have them.

His smile makes his heart skip a beat, like drums he'd hear in one of those old instrumental CDs he kept in his room as a kid. Before he has the chance to back away, to push Zoro out the door and forget this ever happened, Zoro straightens his back again.

He turns in his stool to look up at Zoro and he's not sure what the swordsman sees right now, but he's afraid to ask as his gaze is soft. So damn soft as he looks at him and his hand reaches again to pull his hair hair back over his eye like it was before. Stringy strands of heat damaged locks fall back into place.

Then he leaves. He just...leaves. The damn idiot just turns around and walks out the door like nothing even happened.

Thats the second time this has happened yet the first where Sanji is the one on the receiving end of it, and it makes him grab his towel to bunch it up in his fists and let out a scream into it as he processes everything. He processes how he was forced to notice how Zoro looked at him, and it was Zoro's own weird fucking way of saying "You're beautiful".

"He's so fucking ridiculous oh my god.." Sanji mumbles into the towel. His hair routine is officially long forgotten.

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Hi! I’m currently working on a big, detailed Blackfish rebuttal, which means lots of rabbit holes. I recently started rereading John Hargrove’s book (ugh). He talks about how the original Shamu died of pyometra and septicemia, claiming that it was something that, apparently, would almost never happen in the wild. The obvious implication here is that captivity caused these conditions, and/or that such is common with captive orcas. However, obviously septicemia can be caused by a variety of things, wild or not. As for pyometra, he doesn’t provide other examples of captive orcas suffering pyometra, nor have I been able to find other examples described in peer reviewed literature. It seems that that isn’t particularly common in cetaceans period, whether they’re wild or not, but I’m also not a marine mammal veterinarian. Since you’d know better about cetacean medicine, I was wondering if you knew anything more about this.

Ooh, that'll be interesting! I'd love to read it!

You're correct that Shamu is the only reported case of pyometra in a killer whale, wild or captive. The CRC Handbook of Marine Mammal Medicine makes no mention of pyometra in cetaceans, although it does occur in both wild and captive pinnipeds and has been reported in sea otters and sirenians. Pyometra is typically the result of bacteria migrating up the vaginal tract into the uterus, which at certain times is more susceptible to infection due to normal hormonal fluctuations. Theoretically, anything with a uterus can get pyometra, though some species are more commonly affected than others.

I would hedge to bet that pyometra is rare in cetaceans because of their truly unusual reproductive anatomy. Females have a lot of redundant tissue in their vaginal tract, creating "false cervixes" and overall making it a lot more difficult for anything to reach the uterus.

See all those extra recesses around the cervix?

I did find this case report on a necropsy of a wild short-beaked common dolphin. Pyometra was one of many nasty issues afflicting the poor girl, so it can indeed occur in nature. Since this individual was suffering from co-infections of bacteria and cetacean morbillivirus, she was clearly immunocompromised. It's highly likely Shamu was as well.

Overall, pyometra of cetaceans (including orcas) appears to be quite rare in both the wild and managed care. Shamu was the very first orca intentionally captured for public display, nearly 60 years ago, and only survived six years in captivity before her death at approximately age 10. Virtually nothing was known about killer whale husbandry at the time, so it's not at all unreasonable to assume that poor husbandry, nutrition, and stress negatively impacted her immune function to the point she succumbed to pyometra.

However, it's a weak argument on Hargrove's part to compare the SeaWorld of today (with multiple orcas now in their 30s, 40s, and 50s) to the SeaWorld of the 1960s, and their very first whale at that. Especially using a condition that has not been reported in a captive orca since.

[nerves-nebula]

Every day I’m more and more convinced that despite being largely absent, my dad was the better parent. (Dad rant)

For one thing he’s like a real person who can get vulnerable with us. He has feelings and cares about things. My mom is hidden behind so layers of spite and hatred and bigotry and privilege, I literally don’t know anything about her. She lies and manipulates and shit talks constantly. She never let us know what our dad paid for growing up so we got the impression that he wasn’t giving us very much money at all, when sometimes he was literally giving her like 20k randomly.

There’s a kind of critical family event that happened at some point where my dad gave her some money for my older brother to pay for like college or something, but my older brother got his stuff paid for some other way, so my mom just decided he didn’t need it and spent the money. My brother, being a grade A misogynist, still talks about how Dad was stupid for “trusting a woman with his money” and will sometimes go on insane rants about how dad owes him that money that mom stole from him.

Dad had a life goal & a purpose and has rebuilt peoples homes and entire villages back in Nigeria. He is the reason countless people were able to get an education at all because he thought it was important and cared about it. The only thing my mom cares about is being a housewife and destroying everyone else else’s lives because she married someone who can’t make that a reality for her.

After all the time and money he’s given to her, while he’s like 70 and disabled and NEEDS to be taken care of- she won’t even give him $10 without demanding to know what he’s going to use it for, because she has to decide his reason for wanting 10$ is good enough.

I used to think he was being dramatic when I was a kid, talking about the symbolism behind respect and disrespectful behavior, and how mom is trying to emasculate him, but I genuinely think it’s true now. She’s constantly downplay his (and everyone’s) feelings and opinions. She doesn’t think he’s amounted to anything because all his work (including founding multiple universities!!!) has been in Nigeria, and she doesn’t think of Africa is on par with the US.

Also, and I only just remembered this, but he’s really the only one who took my suicidality seriously. He pulled me out of school for a whole week before midterms just so that we could talk and stuff. It didn’t really help, and didn’t make me want to talk to him about my feelings, and mom was super mad about it- but it was at least SOMETHING. As opposed to the literal NOTHING my mom did and then afterwards admitted she knew I was suicidal. And then forced me to hug her. 

Like hes bad at it, he’s a bigot and a sexist and racist and just plain mean sometimes. But he’s also genuine, he wants to help, he cares about his kids. And when he talks to us, it feels like he is talking to us as people.

My mom didn’t tell me that my sibling was homeless for three years. Actually, she didn’t tell me anything at all. I found that out later from that sibling when they came to visit.

Her favorite trick is to fuck with someone to the point that they explode about something that seems small so that everyone around her will think that they are being the unreasonable person.

Once she forced me to go shopping when I repeatedly said I didn’t want to, and then once we went to the checkout, she mentioned how I would be paying for my own things. She tricked me into spending like $150 a very limited funds that I have been saving up because if I had tried to get out of line or said I wasn’t going to get the coats it would’ve made a scene because we were about to be at the register.

Ok, but now I’m just rambling about shit. The point is. I dunno. The point is that my dad might die soon from medical neglect and financial, emotional, and physical abuse. I guess.

The point is also that my mom has absolutely raised a mass shooter and if my older brother ever kills her and goes on a shooting spree I will be not surprised at all. I’ll be on the fucking news saying nobody who knew him could possibly be surprised by this outcome. Literally everyone saw this coming.

[lizpaige]

sunday snippet 📦

i got nothing like cute/juicy this time around. i'm just trying to write more and sometimes that means it all ends up getting cut, but here's a snippet from the declan outsider pov pynch chapter 2!

The Lynch brothers were helping Ronan move into his first apartment in DC. When Adam transferred for the third time to Georgetown and his financial aid and scholarships no longer covered room and board, they agreed to find a place together. Declan offered to help set up some of the apartment tours, but in the end, Adam found this affordable one bedroom on his own. 

It was a secure access building with a doorman and 24 hour security. It was a 10 minute metro ride and 20 minute full commute to Georgetown, a little longer of a commute to his new auto body shop part time job, but not unreasonable. He somehow managed to convince Ronan to compromise and split the rent 50/50 despite Ronan’s barely-touched trust fund. He had two years left of college, two years where even though DC was closer to Singer’s Falls, neither of them could stand the time apart anymore. 

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Matthew whined, hefting a cardboard box onto the desk in the living room. 

“We’re giving you all the lightest boxes,” Declan winced at the loud bang as Ronan let go of his side of the couch. “We’re the ones doing all the work here.”

“And you had way more shit when I helped you move to DC,” Ronan groaned as he stretched his back before knocking off Matthew’s hat and ruffling his curls. “I didn’t complain.”

Matthew swatted him away. “Yes you did!”

“Did not!” 

Declan raised his gaze to the ceiling as his brothers fell into an exhausted half-hearted wrestling match on the couch. He decided to take the time to look around the place. 

Declan trusted Adam’s judgment more than Ronan’s on the affordability, security, and overall fit of the apartment. So when Ronan begrudgingly told them a move-in date, Declan offered to help them move in. Somewhat because Adam seemed hesitant about the extra cost of hiring movers and also because Declan wanted to scope out the place.

The apartment itself was a modest one bedroom, with a large windowless closet marketed as a “den” by the apartment complex “perfect for a home office,” but Declan thought that was a joke. The bathroom was clean, spacious. There was even a washer and dryer in-unit and a dishwasher in the kitchen. The complex itself was pet friendly, although Chainsaw was not with them currently. No doubt she was shredding up Declan’s couch in their Boston apartment with Jordan. 

In the bedroom, in the corner by the window, were three modest boxes and a potted plant on the window sill. These were not boxes that they moved in, so these must belong to Adam.

It was then that Declan really realized most, if not all, of the stuff they moved was Ronan’s. Adam, despite being on his own for years now, never accumulated a lot of stuff. Even when he would visit the Barns or Boston for a week-long holiday, he would only ever have a small duffle bag over one shoulder with just enough room for a change of clothes and whatever textbooks he needed to complete his homework. 

Even the furniture they brought upstairs - the old desk was from Ronan's room, that they basically let collect dust as soon as they were old enough to have their own desks at school. The couch was another Barns hand-me-down, as well as some of the kitchen items. 

It all belonged to Ronan, legally, so Declan didn’t speak to it. Just another observation he kept to himself for fear of starting another argument. Even though they didn’t argue as much anymore, they still happened to fight. That was always going to be inevitable with the eldest Lynch brothers. Declan just knew how to avoid the landmines with a higher survival rate now.

[avengerswriter]

Appendix

Summary: Peter is feeling sick during movie night and after originally deciding not to tell Tony the information comes out either way. Unfortunately, we're not dealing with the basic stomach flu

Sicktember prompts:

5. Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…)

12. “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung”

14. Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

Word count: 1609

Warnings: vomiting (not extreme though)

●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇

 There was nothing wrong with him. He was fine. The constant ache that had settled in his stomach was just an inconvenience. A mild discomfort at best. He could handle it and finish movie night with Mr. Stark. Peter just had to sit through another 40 minutes, and he’d have a free pass.

Mr. Stark was already giving him worried glances ever since he’d declined dessert—a rare event. The excuse of being full from dinner was weak, at best. Quoting Mr. Stark, Peter was never not hungry. Except tonight, when his stomach was aching, and he was swallowing the feeling of nausea.

Another bout of it attacked him, distracting him from whatever was happening on screen. He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling softly. He had to stay quiet. No attracting attention. He could practically feel Mr. Stark’s gaze flicking toward him every few minutes, so Peter straightened up and forced a smile.

But oh, crap. He was going to vomit. All over the stupid fancy couch and the soft grey blanket Mr. Stark had thrown over him earlier when he’d started shivering. He steadied himself with a hand, pulling himself upright.

“Bathroom,” was all he said before leaving Tony behind, walking as casually as he could. Don’t throw up here. Not here. Wait.

The pain wasn’t just a dull throb anymore. It was sharp, searing. It felt like someone was jamming a hot knife into his side, twisting it until all he could think about was the burn. He clenched his fists, swallowing down bile as he reached the bathroom.

The bathroom was lit with a soft white glow as he threw the door shut and dropped to his knees at the toilet bowl. He emptied his stomach until there was nothing left. When he finally felt as if he was running on empty, Peter rested his head against the cold ceramic, his hands protectively wrapped around his stomach.

Ouch. That hurt. Why did it hurt so much? Even the stomach flu he’d had last season hadn’t been this bad. What horrible food poisoning was this? Maybe that hot dog from patrol? Ugh, just thinking about food made his stomach churn again.

“I must inform my boss that you are unwell,” Friday’s voice floated across the room, and Peter froze. He didn’t even want to know how the AI knew he was sick—there weren’t any cameras in the bathroom.

“Please, Fri, I'll tell him as soon as it gets worse.”

“I must inform you against this as you already have a fever over a 100 degrees, but I will stick to your wishes until I find them unreasonable.”

Peter forced a smile at the ceiling. “Thanks, Fri. I owe you one.”

A fever? That wasn’t sounding good at all.

After taking a deep breath to steady himself, Peter made his way back to the living room. He felt the tremble in his legs as he walked, but forced his expression into something neutral, hoping the dim lighting from the TV would hide his pale face.

Mr. Stark twisted to look at him, and Peter prayed his discomfort wasn’t too obvious.

“Kid, I was starting to wonder where you disappeared to. Wanna finish?”

“I, uh… actually, I thought I should go to bed. School day tomorrow and everything, you know?”

Peter leaned against the doorway, trying to look casual, even as he used it to support his weight. The pain was getting worse. He had to get out of there.

“Eh, it’s only like 10. Aren’t you usually up much later with patrol?”

Peter could almost feel the raised eyebrow from across the room.“I’m tired. And an early bedtime is, like, super good.” His voice wavered, panic creeping in. He couldn’t stand here much longer. It hurt.

“Sure you’re okay, kiddo? First, the ice cream, and now an early bedtime? Not turning into a responsible adult, are you?”

Peter forced a smile, trying to play it off. This was good. He was going to pull this off. No problem.

“Mr. Stark, how could you?” Peter shot back, mock-offended. “I’m not eating my vegetables tomorrow, just because.”

But then Mr. Stark stood up, stretching, and Peter realized he was running out of time. If Tony came any closer, he’d notice the fever for sure.

You could just tell him you don’t feel good, a voice in Peter’s head reasoned. You don’t have to suffer. That felt like something Friday would say. He really should tell him. At that moment, his stomach decided for him, and Peter vomited all over his clothes and the floor. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Peter!” Tony yelped, rushing over. It was clear Peter was about to be fussed over. He just knew it.

“I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine. You just threw up. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Friday?”

Tony was already ushering him toward his bedroom, keeping a hand hovering inches from Peter’s back, not quite touching him. Which, fair, Peter thought, he was feeling gross and covered in vomit.

The smell of it curled around his senses, almost causing him to gag again. Definitely gross.

Friday’s voice chimed in: “A fever of 101 degrees, sir.”

“Friday!” Peter whined. “I trusted you.”Tony raised an eyebrow. “My AI, my loyalty,” he teased, though there was worry etched into his features. Peter wasn’t too scared about being murdered for not telling him earlier.

“Okay, kid, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. Sound good?”

“Yeah...” Peter mumbled as they walked into his room. He really didn’t want to shower right now. More like curl into a pathetic ball of patheticness, but he had to clean up.

“I don’t feel very good…”

“Yeah, kid. Vomiting over everything kind of gives that away.”

“Not everything,” Peter muttered, his embarrassment flaring up again. Tony’s expression softened as he ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately.

“I know, bud. I’m just joking.”

With a grumble, Peter wiggled out of his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Without it and his trousers, he was technically clean. No need for a shower. He could deal with that tomorrow. Probably.

“Pyjamas, kid. I’m getting something to help with the nausea. Guessing you have a stomach bug again?”

Peter only shrugged in response before Tony left him alone. He exhaled sharply, trying to chase away the shitty feeling clinging to him like a second blanket.

Pyjamas. He could get dressed. Easy.

Sure.He stumbled to the dresser, staring unimpressed at the contents. Everything felt irritating—like it would rub his skin the wrong way. After what felt like forever, he finally settled on a pair of bottoms and one of Tony’s MIT hoodies draped over his chair. It was definitely comfortable.

****

A few hours later, Peter’s peaceful rest was shattered by stabbing pains in his stomach. He groaned, curling up tighter in his desired ball, hugging the ache away. He thought he was better after the medicine Tony had given him, but now it hurt even more.

The movement stirred Tony awake. The man had insisted on staying the whole night, for emotional support or something, but Peter hadn’t cared. He could hardly breathe, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

“Pete?” Tony mumbled, half-asleep. Peter wanted to answer, but the words wouldn’t form, and only a whimper slipped out.

"Kid?” Now Tony was awake, switching on the light and flooding the room with brightness. Peter squinted against it, his eyes tearing up from the pain.

“Where does it hurt, baby?” Tony brushed a hand through Peter’s hair, trying to comfort him. Peter panted out, “Stomach.”

“Uncurl for me, kiddo. I want to check something.” Peter moved slowly, each shift making the pain flare. He cried out, but did as asked, uncurling completely, tears welling in his eyes.

Tony’s hands pressed gently on Peter’s stomach, testing different spots. “Does it hurt here?” He pressed a bit above the middle. Peter shook his head. The prodding continued until Tony’s fingers hit the lower right side, and Peter yelped in pain.

“Shit. Kid, I think we need to get you to the medbay. Friday, call Bruce for me. Tell him it’s an emergency.”

“What? No! I’m fine,” Peter tried to argue, even as he lay there, unable to move.

“I think your appendix might disagree with you on that one.” Peter’s eyes widened in panic, groaning again. Would he always have bad luck?

****

Tony leaned his head against the wall, appendicitis. Of course his kid would get it the one week he was staying over at the compound. And of course he would keep it to himself for some time too. 

He would probably have to call Aunt Hottie sometime today. A basic requirement to fill in Peter’s aunt but first he needed some time to chill out.

Gosh. Appendicitis.  

After nearly a decade of struggling, he got Peter to the medbay. The kid wanted to be cooperative, Tony was sure, but walking proved to be a challenge. And keeping body fluids inside oneself. The elevator took the causality of being drenched in vomit this time.

At least Peter was well on his way to recovery, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed after Brucie helped out and removed certain rogue organs.

Tony breathed out, rubbing a hand across his face. The kid was fine. An organ lighter, sure, but fine. Tony didn’t need to worry about him that much. A few hours under, and he would have his hyper spider kid back, still the anxiety gnawed at his chest.

Loving people come with this. Worrying. Because he really did love the kid. The honesty settled in a part deep inside of him. 

Love. Yeah.

[skykashi]

Interest check because I'm trying to figure out a way for me and my cat to not starve to death.

Rant under the cut

Basically I work as an international advisor in a British company which only handles British customers, they specifically hire people from my country because it's a 3rd world country and would be cheap labor and because they know that we won't find any other or better job because of our county's current economic crisis. My entire part-time salary is from $100 to $135 a month which is like, nothing compared to what the British employees who work in the same company doing much less work than me get. My department which only ppl from my country are assigned to, handles 89 queries while all the other departments that only British and Indian employees are assigned to handle from 10 to 20 queries, when we get any system outages which happens quite often, British and Indian employees don't take calls because they can't work without a system, while they force us to take calls just to tell the customers "sorry, we currently have a system outage" and we would be just like punching bags for the frustrated customers that would be upset when we tell them sorry I can't do anything to help you because I have no system at the moment and then to top it off, they don't remove any negative impact such calls during system outages leaves on our performance so we wouldn't get our target bonus and they would end up paying us even less. Not to mention the sneaky ways they force us to work unpaid overtime without really saying it, as we are required to submit a note after every call stating everything happened on the calls without leaving any small details while not having enough time between the calls to type them as sometimes we would just have 2 minutes between every call and sometimes the calls would be back to back without a single second, and we're not allowed to take any time without calls outside of our scheduled breaks either which forces us to type these notes during our breaks and after our shifts. And all of this is just the short version of things, there are so many more messed up things that I left off to avoid having even a longer post.

Anyway, I used to work a full-time shift in that company but I couldn't take 9 hours a day of such stress especially that our department handles (accounts management + complaints + billing) hence why we handle such a huge amount of queries in comparison to other departments so most of the calls I get would be angry customers just yelling which resulted in a huge decline in my mental health, especially that I already suffer from depression, anxiety and a bunch of other stuff so I decided to switch to part time before I completely lose my mind especially after I used to spend the entire day just crying, having panic attacks in the morning the closer my shift start time approaches sometimes and having nightmares so many nights + the rate of my PTSD flashbacks of some traumatic events of things happened to me in the past increased dramatically so I ended up switching to part time and things were kinda manageable, my part-time salary was barley enough for basic living expenses but it was better than having to live that nightmare 9 hours a day plus the extra time I would have to spend after shifts typing notes. But today, I went to work and I was surprised that they switched me back to a full time shift starting tomorrow, they have been threatening me with it for quite sometime now, basically saying that as a graduate it's unreasonable for me to have a part time shift and that only students are allowed to take part time shifts because they need it for studying and I would always reply by telling them that having a part-time shift is the only thing that keeps me going and that I won't be able to continue working if they switched me back to full time. So allegedly!!.. because last month I didn't achieve the target which was basically due to the company having 3 major system outages that only our department (aka Egyptians) had to take calls during it, I don't deserve to have the exception of having a part time now, even tho almost everyone in our department didn't achieve the target for the same reason so yeah, it's now either I go back to working a full time shift of that nightmare which I'm absolutely sure that I won't be able to survive or I resign because they aren't even giving me any time to think or try to find something eles.

So I'm just trying to figure out how to survive basically if I resigned and this is why I'm posting this interest check, so please only choose "yes" if you think you might be interested in commissioning me if I made a post with more details and prices.

[mii-cherry]

The Curse of Ramshackle

I try my best to hold on to the vision to try and find it again in the dark of my dreams but nothing is coming back, Frustration fills my head.

Why? Why do these visions come by with meaning to this world , only for most of them to be so useless!

Why?. . .

Why?. .

Why!

WHY

"WHY SHOW ME SOMETHING I CAN'T UNDERSTAND!?"

"MMMRRAAA WHAT? WHAT HAPPENED!?"

I'm shot up from my sleep, breathing heavily with sweat on my forehead my chest is tight with frustration I come back to seeing my room again and how bright it was through the curtains.

"What was that all about Kuro!? Did something eat our food!?" Grim asked confused from my earlier outburst.

Calming down a bit I answered Grim's question "It's nothing, I just had another one of those dreams again."

"Eh you mean the ones you had about the seven? But didn't you already go through all of em?" Grim asked confused.

"Yeah, I thought so too but this one was about a. . . Sack man and . . . Santa Clause?" I still try to wrap my head around the dream this time around.

" Uhhh what's a Santa Clause?"

Oh, right twst doesn't seem to have a Santa Clause at least that I know of.

"He's a guy that gives presents to behaving kids around winter from my world he's a holiday figure" I try to explain but I'm not gonna bet on Grim getting it right away.

"Well any important info about the dream?" Grim inquiries

"Nothing that is relevant at this moment maybe it will be useful later?." I'm not very confident with this dream it doesn't seem to have any relevancy with the seven and any of the dorms.

"Well, if It's not useful to us I will be getting my morning tuna!" Grim said excitedly hopping off the bed to head downstairs

I sigh letting my last bits of anger go, taking my phone from the night stand I look at the time.

10:34 am

Oh right Ace and Duece are coming over today, I should probably get up too.

I get up to start the morning but the last moment my dream nags at the back of my head it seems more significant more. . . Present? The hole in the wall felt real it felt like I could reach it right there.

_________________________________________

The rest of the morning goes normally and before I knew it there was a knock at the door already.

"I'm gonna get the door."

Opening the front door revealed the two Heartslabyul trouble makers Ace already waiting impatiently.

"Sup, Kuro! Didn't get bored without us did you?" Ace said in his snarky way as always.

"We brought some dessert from Trey-san!" Duece holds up a basket of pastries.

"It was only a day believe me I was fine." I replied back.

I stepped aside with Ace making himself at home right away on the couch, Duece placed the basket on the coffee table taking a seat next to Ace.

"Mra, you guys brought dessert!" Grim appeared already taking a pastry from the basket.

"Oi, don't eat everything I still want some too!" Ace scolded Grim taking one for himself as well.

The rest of the time was spent talking about everyone's week and also mostly Ace complaining about random things

_________________________________________

an hour has passed by now with Ace still going on about Riddles punishment from yesterday.

"I think it's unreasonable to have to do all these dumb rules while I have way more important tasks to do!" Ace complaint

*crack*

"Yeah, busy doing nothing you were just playing games on your phone!" Duece retorts back.

*Crack*

"You guys can't go on an hour without bickering eh" Grim said pasty in his hands

*Crack!*

There is a cracking sound echoing in the distance

Do they not hear it or am I being crazy?

I look at the hallway and the sound seems to be somewhere where the cracking of wood is blurred, I have long tunned out Ace, Duece and Grim my sight is only on the faraway noise.

*CRACK*

Whatever conversation that happened was put to a halt all four of us staring in the hallways direction.

"Uhh, what was that?" Duece asked

"Maybe It was the rats!"

"Rats? No way that was rats, that was super loud!" Ace looked at Grim confused

Getting up from my seat I start to head to the source of the noise

"Wait, Kuro you don't know what made that noise! It could be a super rat for all we know!" Grim came after me scared with Aduece duo coming fast after.

"Really? Super rat is the best you can think of?"

I follow where I think the noise came from, It seems to come from the complete back of Ramshackle the way is blocked by a door at end of the hall walls and floor is allot more dirtier and broken than in front because nobody comes here.

"Wait, wait, wait we're not going to actually go through the door, right?" Duece asked concerned about what could be found.

"What? You scared?" Ace teased

"A-Am not! If anything you'll be scared!"

I open the door, for some reason I feel drawn to the noise.

I need to know

I need to know what that is. . .

Holes and wild spider webs hang along the walls of the room the decay is all over this room, It seems to have been a study of some kind broken book shelf with withering books laying about.

"I don't think we've been here before." I say moving more inside the room to get a better look.

"Be careful guys we don't know what could be hier." Duece said to all of us.

"Yeah, yeah whatever." Ace and Grim said I unison.

Duece just rolled his eyes at their antics

I come to the middle of the room at the end of a wall is a giant decorative mirror with a green glowing gem at the top embedded in the mirror there are also big cracks in it, it seems to ooze a black goo.

"Oi, What's that gross looking stuff?" Ace looked curiously from afar at the mirror.

"Eh, it smells pretty tasty!" Grim sniffed the air for more of the scent

"Grim, please don't eat that!" Duece pleaded with him.

Approaching the mirror I watch the goo I take a good look at it and recognize it

"It's. . . Blot." I said worriedly

"You sure Kur-

*SLAM*

The door where we came from slammed itself shut we all immediately rushed toward the door

Ace tries hard to open the door again but to no avail it stays firmly shut

" Ugh! Fuck it won't open!" Frustration comes from Ace.

" Let me try!"Duece yelled determined, he placed this foot against the wall hands tightly to the door knob and pulled as hard as he could but nothing budget.

"C'mon try harder!!!" Grim started to panic

"I'M TRYING!"

*CRACK*

We look back to the mirror and it gained more cracks suddenly the blot oozing out of them more vigorously than before

"Break down the door if you have to!" I yelled toward the others.

"AhahhahAHAHAHA!!!"

A deranged laughter is heard beyond the mirror I look back to see the blot coming together to form something

"FINALY,OUT Of THAT ICKY BLOT HOLE!"

The form is now part of a formed person head and chest out with a single arm reaching out of the mirror.

"I might just split a seam with all this excitement!"

[fandomwe1rd0]

This fanfic was heavily inspired by @starrbitez fic called "Sleep it off" which is based on what happened after Beth chose Summer to leave over Morty with no hesistation, which is what my fic will be about too! Go check them out! They make others good fics and posts as well!

Morty violently thrashed around but it was pointless. He was stuck. Summer was attempting the same thing, but it was hopeless, burning stones were holding their limbs in place. They were unable to talk as well, courtesy of another hot stone in their mouth. The only sounds they could get out were muffled screams. The alien warlord walked over to Beth, his steps slow and sure while Beth was just staring at the scene before her in a thorny chair, her jaw to the floor, and her eyes switching between Morty and Summer. "I'm not an unreasonable man Beth Smith. I know children are everything to a mammal. I will spare one of their lives." Beth's eyes immediately landed on Summer. Everything was going by so fast that Morty barely noticed it. The alien warlord continued "You simply have to choose-" He barely finished his sentence, and without even a second thought Beth yelled "SUMMER!" Morty's eyes widened. No, no, it couldn't of been that. She just blurted out the first name that came to mind, surely she would think about it- Beth continued shortly after "Summer." He saw Summer look at him, her eyes a silent apology. Morty nearly jolted when he heard the familiar sound of a portal opening, providing a quick break from his racing thoughts, Rick shot the alien warlord. "You're not gonna believe this, I went to Phoebe instead of Titan. It's like, 'Hello Saturn! After 10 moons, it's time to stop naming and start numbering!' Y'know?" Everyone was silent. Rick looked around, not used to nobody entertaining his jokes. "What's with you assholes?" Nobody responded. Rick shrugged and released the kids' from their restraints. He opened up a portal and everyone walked through it.

Morty stayed holed up in his room. He heard screaming, the walls not doing much to muffle it. He heard Summer screaming "MOM! YOU COULDN'T HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT FOR A SECOND!?" He heard Beth yelling back, her words slurred "You better be- shouldddd be gratefullll! I...I choose you!" Summer groaned "Did you see Morty's face!?" Beth groaned "He....he...he...he'll be fineeeee he's a tough lil'....he's a lil'...he's a solider...he can...he can handle it..." Summer groaned "His mom just chose his sister over him with no hesitation!" He heard Beth gag "Mom's...mommy's not feeling...good..too...too well Summer. Can we...can we...can we talk about this later?" He heard Summer huff "FINE! But this isn't over!" then he heard what he assumed was Summer's footsteps retreating.

He hugged his knees to his chest. What was Morty supposed to think? Sure his mom wasn't perfect, he knew that much, but he hopes that she would've had a little hesitation. But it was just...instant.

His mom was fully willing to let him die for his sister. The favorite.

She was probably Rick's favorite as well, always enabling him. Always stroking his ego. Fucking enabler. Fucking pushover-

He stopped himself. What was wrong with him? Why was he blaming her? It's not like it was her fault. But those were now his only thoughts whenever he looked at Summer. "Favorite. Favorite. Favorite." Fucking little miss perfect. He quickly slapped himself. Stop thinking like this! She's your sister! It's not her fault she's better than you! Get a grip! Why would someone love you more than her?! The voice inside of his head screamed this at him over and over. Until he was a sobbing quivering mess. The worst part? It was right. He was blaming Summer. She literally did nothing! He eventually passed out crying.

He was awoken when he heard Rick's voice, he pressed his ear against the wall to hear it better, since Rick was talking pretty quietly "What happened?" Beth talked, Morty was barely about to decipher her words "Summer...angry.....alien...I chose Summer...Morty angry..." Rick sighed "The alien warlord said you could save Summer or Morty, and you chose Summer with no hesitation." Beth choked on a sob and started crying "Am I....am I....am I a....am I a bad mom?" Rick sighed "It's not really my place to judge other parents, Sweetie." A bit later in the day he heard a knock.

Morty didn't want anyone to come in, but he knew that wouldn't stop whoever was knocking to come in anyway. He let out, in his best fake happy voice, feeling betrayed by the shakiness in his voice, "Come in!" Rick said, "Hey buddy...dinner's ready...you wanna at least try to eat?" Morty shook his head and he heard Rick's footsteps growing closer as he rested a hand on Morty's shoulder "You ok...?" Morty wiped his tears and let out an unconvincing "Mhm..." Rick sighed as he placed a hand on Morty's back "Your mom's a bag of dicks, you shouldn't care about what she thinks." Morty stayed silent, looking at his lap. Not wanting Rick to see the tears brimming in his eyes. After a few moments of awkward silence, Morty's lip started trembling, Rick patted his back and Morty just cried into Rick's chest. Rick gulped, he didn't want to do this, but he also didn't want to see Morty like this "Hey Morty...can you look up here for a second?" Morty shook his head but Rick sighed and let out a begrudging "Please?" Morty looked up, his big wet eyes making Rick wince. He's seen Morty upset before, but never like this. He hated it. He stroked Morty's hair, hoping to both comfort him and distract him as took out his memory gun, removing Morty's memory of that. Morty passed out, Rick freaked out the first time, but this was normal after he had his memory erased. He tucked Morty in, and left the room, silently closing the door behind him, why did he do that? Morty was passed out, not asleep, it's not like he would wake up at a loud noise, but whatever. He put the memory in a purple vial, purple being the family's fault, and placed it in Morty's mindblowers, Rick's archive of Morty's deleted memories.

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2023 Day 10 - Agreement

Albedo is in the middle of an experiment when Kaeya comes into the lab. He hasn’t been here often, so of course he immediately has all of Albedo’s attention.

It’s not as if they are friends, really, but they are friendly enough with each other that Albedo doesn’t immediately suspect work as the sole reason for Kaeya to come here. They’ve talked about private things before—hardly unavoidable with both their histories—and they shared lunch once or twice.

They are on a good way to be friends and so Albedo gives Kaeya a smile when he steps more firmly into the room.

Kaeya’s face tells him that this is not a completely friendly visit, though. And Albedo is proven right when Kaeya speaks.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asks and his eyes dart to Sucrose, who pretends to the best of her abilities to not be there. “In private?”

“Sure,” Albedo says with a frown. “Your office?”

“Perfect,” Kaeya shortly says and walks right back out, not even waiting for Albedo to catch up to him.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Albedo tells Sucrose, who almost spills the fluid she’s using in her own experiment at being addressed directly.

“Alright,” she whispers out and Albedo knows that she wants to offer to leave, so they can talk here, but that’s hardly necessary, when Kaeya’s office is two doors down and definitely empty.

Kaeya is already waiting for him when Albedo closes the door behind him and he turns towards him with a raised eyebrow.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Listen, this might sound strange but we’ve been getting close, right?” Kaeya asks and Albedo nods, because they have.

They are on their best way to be good friends, Albedo guesses and he likes that thought. He doesn’t have many friends. Or any, really.

“Okay, so—” Kaeya takes a deep breath before he goes on, “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

At that Albedo blinks.

“Excuse me?”

“Like I said, it must sound strange to you, but you’re not allowed to, alright. We can be close-ish and all and we can even be friends, but you cannot fall in love with me. Are we in agreement about that?”

“Where is this coming from?” Albedo asks because not once did he think of Kaeya like that before.

Did he overstep somehow? Human interactions are still sometimes strange to him, so it’s entirely possible but he thought Kaeya would tell him directly if that were the case.

This feels different.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaeya dismissively says. “Just, agree and we can move on, alright?”

“No, not alright,” Albedo snaps out. “You’re not going to dictate what I can and can’t feel. I’m here to grow and experiencing human emotions in all their entirety is a part of that. I will not allow you to decide who I can fall in love with.”

“Albedo—” Kaeya starts but now Albedo is mad that Kaeya even thought he would agree to this.

“No. What brought this on?” Albedo crosses his arms in front of his chest, and since he’s still positioned close to the door it’s not as if Kaeya could simply leave to avoid the conversation even though that clearly is what he’d like to do.

Albedo thinks that if he wants to leave so badly, he’ll need to jump out of the window. He wouldn’t put it past Kaeya but he still doesn’t move.

“Nothing,” Kaeya quickly says and Albedo gives him an unimpressed look.

“If you make a request that unreasonable you better have a good reason for it,” Albedo tells him and he’s content to wait him out until the truth spills out of Kaeya.

Kaeya might be good at getting information out of people by flirting and lowering their inhibitions but Albedo learned that most people are uncomfortable with prolonged silences and will simply tell him what he wants to know so they can leave.

It might not be the most refined technique but it usually works.

Just like today.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaeya mutters, much sooner than Albedo expected him to if he’s being honest.

“If you are jumping to conclusions about my feelings and trying to dissuade me from something that hasn’t even happened yet it clearly does. So maybe try again.”

Kaeya lets out a harsh breath before he turns away from Albedo. He moves closer to the window, and Albedo is almost on the move, trying to stop him from throwing himself out of it but Kaeya simply stares out of the window.

“It’s just—” It seems as if Kaeya has some trouble finding the words for this but Albedo is still content to wait him out, let him sort through his thoughts so he can explain this in a way that will make sense to Albedo.

Not that he thinks there is a way to make Kaeya’s unreasonable request reasonable, but it can’t hurt to let Kaeya try. And Albedo has to admit that by now he’s quite curious, too.

“The people I care for, they get hurt or die, one way or another,” Kaeya whispers and Albedo doesn’t know his entire backstory, but he knows enough to understand where he’s coming from. “That shouldn’t happen to you.”

It’s—an odd consideration Kaeya shows him here, that much Albedo will admit, but there’s a fundamental flaw in his logic.

“To be quite frank, that sounds like a you problem, though,” Albedo says, and he does feel a little bad when Kaeya flinches. “You make it sound as if the people you care for suffer that fate, not the other way round. So shouldn’t you promise me that you’re not going to fall in love with me?”

Albedo thinks maybe the words he said were too harsh when he sees how Kaeya’s face falls, when he sees the desperation take over but he doesn’t know how to take them back.

Isn’t even sure if he really wants to, because when they get down to it, when they follow Kaeya’s logic on this, they are still true.

Kaeya doesn’t say anything though and in the end Albedo sighs.

“Listen, Kaeya, I don’t care. Fate is not a thing I put much trust in, so agree to disagree on this, alright? We can forget about this too, if you’d rather have that.”

“You’ll regret this,” Kaeya whispers, still without turning back to him but Albedo simply shrugs.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Only time will tell.”

“How can you be so—nonchalant about something like that?” Kaeya wants to know and he sounds envious though Albedo is sure that he won’t like the answer Albedo has for him.

The only reason he can be this nonchalant about potential doom is because nothing bad happened to him yet; he doesn’t know how much it hurts or how thoroughly something can destroy a life. It’s clear that Kaeya does, though, so of course he’d try anything to avoid going through something similar.

“I don’t know,” Albedo lies to him because he thinks it might be the kinder option. “I’ll go back to my experiment now, if there’s nothing else?”

Kaeya stays stubbornly quiet at that and so Albedo takes his leave for now.

There’s much to think about, but he will make sure to find Kaeya for lunch tomorrow. Albedo is not going to let some potential disaster destroy something he enjoys.

~*~*~

Albedo waits until they made their way to Windrise, Klee running through the water and laughing her adorable, slightly worrying laugh before he turns to Kaeya.

“Can I say something?” Albedo asks, and grins when Kaeya barely spares him a glance, too focused on making sure that Klee is safe.

“Sure,” he distractedly gives back. “Hey, Klee, careful! Stay in our sight, alright?”

“Alright, big brother Kaeya!” she screams back and then prompts disappears behind some hill.

“This girl, honestly,” Kaeya mutters as he gets up. “One moment, okay, I’m just going to make sure she’s alright.”

“Sure,” Albedo gives back, trying to hide his amusement, because this is simply proving the point he’s going to make to Kaeya.

He watches fondly how Kaeya runs after her and then promptly gets roped into some game Klee came up with on the spot. It will be a while until Kaeya comes back, Albedo knows that from experience, so he concentrates on the canvas he has in front of him.

A picture of Kaeya and Klee seems like the only viable option this afternoon and even though he can draw them both from memory, Albedo leans around his canvas from time to time, simply to watch them.

Both Kaeya and Klee are soaked from head to toe and Albedo wonders not for the first time how her bombs still work even when they are wet. He’ll have to ask her about it one day, he decides and then promptly gets distracted when Klee slips and falls into the water, making Kaeya laugh so hard that he falls in right after her.

Children, the both of them, Albedo thinks, with so much love that sometimes he wonders where he stores it all inside himself.

Kaeya only comes back to him when Klee has tired herself out and she’s already half asleep on his hip by the time he makes it to their blanket.

“Sorry,” Kaeya sheepishly says, clearly remembering that Albedo wanted to talk about something but he still takes the time to gently lay her down and cover her with a second blanket they brought, for exactly this case.

It’s not the first time Kaeya tucked her in like that—far from it actually—but Albedo still doesn’t tire of seeing him be so soft and gentle with her.

“Okay, now. What did you want to talk about?” Kaeya finally asks as he gives Albedo his complete attention and it’s a testament to their relationship that Kaeya doesn’t even seem worried.

“Listen, I can’t help but to think,” Albedo starts and knows it was the complete wrong approach when Kaeya gives him a cheeky smile.

“Oh, that’s always dangerous,” he teases him and he looks so radiant in his happiness that Albedo wants to kiss him.

Maybe he’ll even be allowed soon.

“You love Klee,” Albedo says and he doesn’t even phrase it as a question because even a blind man can see how Kaeya adores the little girl.

“I do,” Kaeya says, his face softening as he looks over to her.

“And she loves you, too,” Albedo says, because that, too, is more than obvious.

“It would seem that way, yes.” He looks back at Albedo, now a frown on his face. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

“Remember that talk we had, where you told me not to fall in love with you?” Albedo asks him and he can pinpoint the exact moment Kaeya remembers, because his face closes off.

“What about it?”

“I told you then, that it’s a you problem, right? And you already love Klee, so you definitely have to fight fate should it come knocking on your door with some calamity.”

“Klee is not going to get hurt,” Kaeya rushes out as if Albedo could be worried about that.

He knows that Kaeya would rather kill himself than let anything happen to her.

“I know that. You clearly know it, too, because you’re going to protect her.”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay, then,” Albedo says with a nod and now comes the part that has his heart beating faster in his own chest.

He doesn’t think he read all of this wrong, but a last bit of doubt is left nonetheless.

“Then what stops you from loving me, too, if you already have to fight fate for Klee? What’s one more person, right?”

Kaeya stares at him, his mouth slightly open and Albedo goes on.

“I didn’t agree to your stupid proposal back then, if you remember, and these days I find that I’m glad about that.”

“Albedo—”

“Because I did fall in love with you. I’m pretty sure that agreement wouldn’t have stopped me from doing that anyway, but at least like this I don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

“Would you stop talking?” Kaeya finally gets out and Albedo is surprised to see a faint blush on his cheeks.

He didn’t know Kaeya could blush.

“Why? Do you not like what you’re hearing?”

“How can you just say it like that?” Kaeya wants to know, his voice strangled as he buries his face in his hands.

“Why shouldn’t I if it’s true?”

“By the Seven, petal, you’re killing me.”

The nickname is new, and it makes Albedo smile.

“That’s not my intention,” he honestly says, and for some reason that makes Kaeya chuckle.

“I wouldn’t just fight fate for you,” Kaeya finally admits and moves his hands off his face. “I would fight the Seven as well.”

 “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kaeya whispers and reaches out to take Albedo’s hand in his. “I’m in love with you, too, you know?”

“Yeah, thought so,” Albedo cheekily gives back, even though his heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest with happiness and it only gets worse when Kaeya laughs at that.

“You’re insufferable. You were back then, too.”

“Must be a good quality of mine, then, if you still fell for me.”

“One of the ones I like best. Just like all other qualities of yours,” Kaeya immediately replies and he seems so earnest about it that now it’s Albedo’s turn to blush.

“Okay but for real,” he says as he tries to get himself back under control. “You know nothing bad is going to happen to me or Klee just because you love us, right?” he can’t help but to ask because this has bothered him ever since Kaeya came to him with that stupid proposal.

“We’ll see,” Kaeya noncommittally says and Albedo squeezes his hand because he can see the worry in his eye.

“We’re not helpless. We can take care of ourselves and we have you to take care of us, too. We’ll be perfectly safe. I promise. And I still don’t think much of fate, so I doubt we have anything to worry over.”

“Now you’re just tempting fate,” Kaeya moans out and then tugs on Albedo’s hand to pull him close. “Promise me, petal, if you ever think that being with me is hurting you or Klee, you’ll leave.”

Albedo doesn’t like this, because Kaeya still thinks so badly about himself, but it’s something he can agree wholeheartedly to since in his mind, as long as Kaeya is not actively attacking them, there isn’t anything to worry about.

“That is a proposal I can agree to,” Albedo says and presses a kiss to Kaeya’s chin. “Because it will never come to that.”

“Okay,” Kaeya whispers and Albedo knows how much it means that he decides to trust Albedo on this.  “Now, here’s one more proposal,” he then says with a suggestive eyebrow waggle and Albedo blinks at him.

“Kaeya, no!” he rushes out because he cannot mean what Albedo thinks he means. It’s way too early for marriage!

Kaeya bursts into laughter, clearly enjoying the shock on Albedo’s face and he topples them both over on the blanket, arranging Albedo to his liking until they are facing each other.

“A little bit early for that, petal,” Kaeya whispers into the scant space between them. “I was about to propose we go to my place afterwards, so I can make you two dinner.”

“You’re the worst,” Albedo complaints but he scoots closer until he can steal a kiss for himself before he rests their foreheads together. “But I agree.”

“Mh,” Kaeya hums and slings his arms around Albedo. “You better sound more enthusiastic when I propose for real,” he mumbles with his eyes closed as if it’s already a given that that is going to happen one day and Albedo wonders just how much he really believes that he’s going to hurt them if he already thinks this far.

Or maybe, he simply trusts Albedo enough to believe him when he says there’s nothing to worry about.

“I will be,” Albedo promises him and then closes his eyes, too.

It’s an agreement Albedo can get behind and it’s not long before they both fall asleep, a smile on their faces and thoughts of their future in their dreams.