#please let the research be done sooner

[katelynnwrites]

i have this awful sinking feeling that acls are beginning to be an injury that every footballer gets at one point or another in their career.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[uno-san]

Oohhhh I can totally see Bill threatening to hurt or even off you after Ford broke things off with him.

Perhaps he wanted to reach out to you for help because he had a small sliver of hope that you, with your heart which was a size too big for your own good, might just come to his aid if he asked, even if you were upset with him. But then he was afraid of letting Bill get anywhere near you, so he endured all of the torture and abuse, just so long as he didn’t touch you.

Do what you will with this idea.

OOOHHH GOOOD this ask sent me in a spiral as I immediately had ideas for italsdfjlsaflfj Thank you so much for sending in an ask, especially since I love seeing your posts!

Sorry this took so long but please, enjoy the angst~

  Tick

Tick

  Tick

Each tick brought a new needling pain to his already frantic mind. How could such a small, incessant sound be so torturous? For every count that was marked down on the small watch it brought a harsh reminder to the pacing scientist; his eyes were bloodshot, dry, and torn. No matter what he’d do one would even bleed onto whatever project he’s started on to try and save his life. Everyone’s life.

Stanford Pines has been awake for 3 days.

Tick

  Tick

Tick

“Goddammit!”

Research notes and project blueprints were scattered everywhere with one mighty drag of his arm across the once-cluttered desk. Around him loose papers hovered uselessly in the air, as if they were trying to offer him a solution in the now discarded pile. He paid them no mind. They were just another idea down the gutter.

This time, a truly foolish one. He had called it the Bill-Proof Suit (Name Pending) and if he had a proper amount of sleep he would have seen sooner what a joke it truly was. Stanford’s concept was solid, naturally, the issue was the actual construction. That’s where the joke was.

He needed Fiddleford.

Fiddleford was long gone now. If Stanford hadn’t already chased him away the day of the portal incident there was no doubt Bill would have done the job himself. The man’s mechanical knowledge far exceeded Ford’s own. That’s what gained him a spot on this project in the first place. And now, it was laughable to think Ford had a hand in sabotaging such a pivotal partnership. A friendship. God, how that word felt so bitter now.

Bill had been his friend. His muse as well, but more importantly his friend. Fiddleford had been too. Stanford pushed him away, revealing that the one he had left was a guillotine waiting to drop. A conman from the very moment Ford had made the mistake of summoning him, lying the very second he appeared. The best lie Bill ever told was that Stanford was a genius.

In truth, Ford was an idealistic fool too over his head. Hunted in his own home until the day his mind would break and give in to what Bill wanted. But it would be a cold day in hell before Stanford ever gave in without a fight. For if he couldn’t keep the bastard out of his body, there was still one way to thwart him yet.

Scatter his research. Not destroy it, but spread it far so that no other fool under Bill’s thumb could recreate Ford’s work. It shouldn't be difficult. Ford had already sought to hide his other two journals due to previous threats. All that remained of his recorded mistakes were his first journal. This one needed special handling. The other two, while well hidden, still remained in Gravity Falls. Journal 1 would need to see a swift exit out to the world unknown.

But how?

  Tick

Tick

  Tick

With a growl of frustration Ford dropped himself into an aging chair that had been pushed out of the way to make room for his pacings. One arm rested across his knee while the other stayed propped up on his elbow to hold his head up; a dangerous position, considering his exhaustion. Though bleary his eyes focused on a nearby chalkboard with hastily scrawled names on its black surface. He’s been stuck on this awhile.

Fiddleford was out. No doubt about that with how they had departed. Unfortunately that meant that Stanford would have to find help outside of the initial project, which will prove to be risky at best and time-consuming at worst to get them caught up on the stakes of the mission. That left little to consider.

Already that knocked his parents out of the running. They were getting too old to do what was needed to keep his research safe. Not to mention what they’d think of Stanford started going off about demons and otherworldly powers.

You lost them millions, Stanford. Never even impressed your father and now you want them to help you? When was the last time you called?

Stanford’s body froze. Only the slow movement of his eyes showed signs of life as they drifted to each dark corner of the room. Had he said that? He gathered the courage to check over his shoulder. There was no one. His fingers tapped against his knee as the truth of the whispered words began to sink in. Would they even answer his call?

Tick

  Tick

Tick

Focus!

Right…right. Who else?

Nobody in town would be jumping at the chance to help him. Stanford never made the effort. Couldn’t make it, to be more accurate. Never was good at talking to people. Bill had helped with that isolation though Ford couldn’t place as much blame on him as he wanted to.

If he had the money, this would be a far easier task. Thanks, however, to his constantly running lab and testing of the portal during its construction even his generous grant money was dwindling down to pennies. Not even that tie he sold to the government went far. That was spent to get them to turn the other way for Ford’s more questionable purchases (Or thefts).

They wouldn’t have talked to you anyway. Not without a carnival banner to let them know the freakshow was in town.

Stanford’s hand swept up in his hair; his thumb resting outside the greasy mess to instead prop his eyelid open. The air stung. It was manageable compared to the heat of annoyance beginning to rise in his chest. Was this the best he could manage? Stanford Pines, life forever in ruins now just because he didn’t think to make silly small talk over a burnt cup of coffee?! Surely, there had to be somebody else to turn to-

You already know who you want to go crawling back to. To be safe in their arms again. Despite already chasing them off you know you want to drag them back into all of this. You want-

Stanford shot up from his chair. The rapid movement caused it to swivel while Ford’s hand grabbed hold of a long forgotten experiment; he shouted a guttural “NO!” before hurling the hunk of junk at the source of the voice. It shattered against the wall.

Both hands were knotted up into fists while Ford’s shoulders shook with a fury he couldn’t control. His lips were drawn back in a snarl as he continued to face off against nothing. This being the most he’s been awake in days being the only blessing of an already cursed conversation.

“No, I’m not doing this to them again, I’m not!” Stanford’s eyes followed a foe that wasn’t there, now facing a different side of the room, “They’re gone now and there’s nothing I can or will do to ever risk them coming back here. I can handle all this myself!”

Not that you’d get any help after what you did.

Stanford staggered back. Like the flame of his anger had been blown out and he’d been left with the ashes of guilt. He looked so unsure. Different compared to his conviction on stopping Bill once and for all.

“That was Bill, I didn’t want-”

Bill, who can read your mind? Bill, who has known you more intimately than you ever have your ‘partner’ know? Well, now's your chance. You look like shit. Everything around you is falling apart. One look at you and they’d come racing to your side. You want-

“ENOUGH!”

Stanford might have given in if he had heard your name. He now grabbed onto the abandoned chair and threw it against the next wall with all his might, praying that the sound of destruction would tune out that predatory voice poisoning his mind. It was just as awful as that-

  Tick

Tick

  Tick

That-

Tick

  Tick

Tick

THAT GODDAMN TICKING NOISE!

  Tick

Tick

  Tick

The man fell onto his knees in a heap. In spite of the danger of it all his eyes were skewed shut while the flat of his palms covered his ears like a spoiled child. Now on top of all he was trying to shut out he could hear the thunderous pounding of his heartbeat in face of the near mental break. But it was all in vain.

Stanford could hear the ticking of the stopwatch counting down another waking hour. The whispers, Bill, and…and the memories of 3 days ago replaying in his mind, again and again.

___

The day had already begun strangely. Not in the sense that when Stanford arose he didn’t know where he’d wake up, or that he was covered in mysterious injuries that he’s sure he didn’t want to know the origin of. None of that. That was, quite horridly, becoming Ford’s new reality until he gave in to Bill Cipher’s demands. Which would be never.

No, what made this day bizarre was that Stanford had woken up in bed. No ditch or jail cell. His actual bed inside his own home. When he had realized this Stanford had been quick to search the room for any signs of a trap. He didn’t get the chance to look long before he noticed that his hand had been clutched around something. As per usual his hands had been bloodied across the knuckles (which would sting to patch up later), but wrapped around and bundled into his palm was…hair?

The dread in his gut only deepened when he had given the hair a conspiratory sniff and recognized a scent that used to provide him comfort. It was the smell of your shampoo. It was after the horror began to dawn on him that Stanford noticed the corner of a tape poking out from beneath his pillows.

‘Play Me: Part 2’

The scene opened up to a hotel room, identified only by the luggage rack in the corner currently occupied by its namesake. Within the focal point of the shot was an empty bed and a window barely fitting into frame. Both the stillness and odd positioning of the shot suggested that the camera wasn’t being held at all; it was hidden on the tv stand.

Out of frame a door must have shut. Following after were the familiar sounds of ruffling fabric before the main light had been turned off, leaving only the bedside lamp to provide proper lighting. Then you walked onto the screen.

Wearing a pair of familiar pajamas, slippers, and a book in hand, you were yawning as you began to climb and settle into bed. You must have been staying in that room for a long while to be as comfortable as you look. Despite just opening your book you’re interrupted with a yawn, making you huff in frustration and stubbornly set your nightly entertainment down. The pout that Stanford always found cute was displayed prominently on your face. It was almost domestic.

It wasn’t long after until you reached over to turn off the lamp nearby. Immediately the room was shrouded with darkness; save for a sliver of light escaping past the curtains to illuminate your midsection. Not much, but enough to see you.

For several minutes, that’s all there was. In real time your process of sleep was captured. How you’d roll back and forth a few times before adjusting into a comfortable position, your pillow punched just right to cradle your head the way you liked it. With a final wiggle of comfort you fell asleep. Your chest rose and fell in slow, deep motions.

Then a pair of yellow eyes blinked open.

Stanford’s breath had caught in his chest. Nearly choking on it as he rose from his spot on the couch to instead crouch in front of the TV as if he could hop into the scene himself.

Beneath the bed a six-fingered hand crept out to grasp at the shag carpet and use the leverage to pull the rest of the body out with it. Emerging from the abyss was a stranger’s smile on a familiar face. His glasses were askew and the grin contorted his face unnaturally, but there was no doubt who it was.

Bill. Stanford. It hardly mattered when you wouldn’t even know the difference.

The figure moved with precision. His limbs stretched out far and bent at odd angles to distribute weight on the creaky floor; he looked like a spider poised to strike. Bill crept forward at a snail's pace. His stare never wavered from the camera meanwhile, remaining level headed until almost the entirety of Stanford’s- Bill’s yellow eye took the stage. A blink after and it was gone. In frame it captured a closeup of his hand as he grabbed the camera from its hidden position.

The already unnerving video had Stanford on edge and in his paranoia he paused the video. Freezing it right at the moment the knuckles of his hand flashed across the screen where he then held up his current injured one. The hand in the video had matching injuries, however in the past it still sparkled with fresh blood when the light hit it just right.

Stanford let out a sigh of relief. So Bill had tried the door before coming here. The wounds were from the door. The door. A fact that he’d have to remind himself of while he unpaused.

Bill was no longer visible as he became the cameraman. It was with soft footsteps that seemed ill-fitting of the one making them that the TV screen was now filled with your unconscious form. He had stopped just at the edge of the bed, yet the angle the camera shot from suggested that Bill began leaning over you. Miraculously, the frame remained steady in spite of the position.

He then spoke in such a hushed tone that his voice was almost unrecognizable if it hadn’t been the evident grin behind his words, “What. Happens. When they. Wake. Up?”

It felt as if all the blood in Stanford’s body froze at once. Each syllable that passed Bill’s lips sent a new horrific vision of what the fiend could do to your unsuspecting form. Emphasizing your vulnerability. Somehow your breathing already appeared weak as if you’ve been struck already. The thought had Ford’s mouth dry.

A pit was beginning to settle in his stomach. To calm himself down his eyes cast downwards to his bruised knuckles, trying to commit to memory that the wounds had been there since the start of the tape. Stanford didn’t gain comfort, however, as his attention returned to the screen. He couldn’t bear missing even one detail. No matter how much he wanted to.

For a long while, the ‘movie’ remained static. As chaotic as Bill was he could be patient when he wanted to be. Listening closely revealed Bill gasping for breath every so often, having forgotten that air was ‘integral’ to humans living when he had been so focused on you. Or maybe he was holding his breath on purpose. Pain was hilarious, he’d always say.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The tension was suddenly cut through by a burst of noise outside. A familiar and irritating sound of a car alarm began to blast away the quiet night, its rhythm now matching that of a racing heartbeat as it mercilessly shouted. Through the curtains a harsher light broke in. Blinking on and off to cast a harsh silhouette of Bill standing over you against the wall.

“No, no, no, nononono, gods, no!” Stanford cried out while his hands gripped at the TV’s sides to nearly crack the material. “Don’t, please-”

The past remained unchanged in spite of his begging.

You began to stir. With brows furrowed together your eyes squinted tightly together as if to block out the intrusive light, the once calm expression of peace you had now replaced with irritation at the interruption. Under your breath you mumbled something indiscernible.

From above a six-fingered hand began to torturously slide into frame while its fingers were spread and bent as if they were claws. Down and down it went. It was poised to make contact with your neck until the hand paused to hover over your body, the fingers giving a cheeky wiggle towards the camera. The open wounds on the knuckles still bled, allowing trickles of blood to pool at his fingertips until they fell and spilled across your collarbone.

Now your own hand reached up to idly scratch where the blood landed only to inadvertently smear the warm droplets on your skin. Off camera still, the sound of Bill sucking in air through his teeth filled the anticipated silence as he waited eagerly. Even the wet sound of skin stretching was a harsh reminder of how elated he must have looked.

Stanford’s hand reached toward his face where trembling fingers traced the torn corners of his mouth.

With a groan you made a sudden turn in bed that Bill hadn’t expected. He was forced to dodge his hand out of the way. You turned on your side away from the window with the corner of the blanket bunched in your first to fully entrap yourself within the comforting warmth. The car alarm outside had turned off just as you let out an exhausted yawn and snuggled into your pillow.

A moment after the camera slowly adjusted to frame your entirety once more while somehow capturing Bill’s unspoken anticipation. Yet you didn’t stir further. Instead the quiet was cut-through by your growing snores brought on by deepened rest. Off-camera Bill slowly released the air of excitement he had sucked in moments to ago in a disappointed huff.

Stanford wept.

___

Tick

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Tick

The memory brought a new sheen of tears to his eyes that Stanford cursed. Bitterly he threw off his glasses to wipe them away before they dared to fall and reveal his growing weakness. He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself.

He had to protect you.

That had been three days ago. Worse yet the tape had actually contained the entirety of your night. From the moment you got into bed right down to your alarm clock going off, Bill stood over you. Stanford knew that for a fact considering he watched the tape all the way through, never daring to speed-forward or skip ahead out of fear of what he’d stumble upon after doing so.

The 6 hours of footage felt like an eternity of limbo compared to the pain of being awake for so long. This was much preferable to ever seeing that again. Even if it killed him Ford made the vow to not rest until he could assure that a ‘Part 3’ could never be made again.

Thus far the only respite he’s allowed himself was a call to your hotel. Thankfully he had recognized the tacky furniture from his own stay many years back when he had to wait for the construction of his home to complete. When you had picked up the phone and said a greeting in your warm voice, it felt as if Stanford had his second wind.

He hadn’t heard you since the day you left. Since he had driven you away in order to fall under more of his ‘muse’s’ lies. But now when Ford heard your voice all he could do was remember all the nights you spent taking care of him after an extensive research expedition. Or all the warm meals you’d prepare for him to fuel up for a dangerous day in the woods. All of that felt like a lifetime ago.

Stanford Pines had thrown you away. Now, his only redemption lied in keeping both you and the world safe, no matter what it took. Your voice was the motivation Ford needed but the reward he hadn’t earned yet. He hung up without ever saying a word to you.

From the floor Stanford used his knee to propel himself back upwards. He remembered to take his discarded glasses with him to wipe off on his button-up shirt and place back on his face. Trying to dust the rest of himself off he glanced around his now ramshackled lab that had once been the prize of all his hard work and efforts, now covered with the scrawlings of a paranoid recluse and damaged experiments from frenzied episodes.

His eyes landed on his remaining journal that had been left abandoned on the ground. Odd. Had he knocked it down at some point during his episode brought on by a lack of sleep? Stanford bent down to pick up the poor book left in disarray. Poking out from the side was a corner of a photo that must have become dislodged from within, serving as a reminder that Ford should take better care of his precious research.

With a huff of annoyance towards himself Stanford flipped open the book only to be met with a photo of his face- Stanley’s face captured from an airing commercial Ford had caught on TV one day. Puzzled by this, Ford pulled the photo from the pages to inspect Stanley’s expression yet the glare of gold from his journal behind kept drawing his gaze as well.

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Tick

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For a long time Stanford’s focus flickered between his journal and the photo of his brother. First he stared with irritation. Then as the seed of an idea began to bloom his eyes softened with a regret while seeing Stanley. So many years spent drifted apart, and yet…

Tick

  Tick

Tick

Stanford tucked the photo away with far more care than he realized he had before turning to head back upstairs to his home. There was a determination to the man as his feet picked up speed, now powered by the first actual idea he’s had in days. Whether it would work or not didn’t matter.

He had no one else.

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

[avocado-writing]

Hi, I really like the way you write BG3 party members! I had a thought for a while and wanted to request the main party with a Revenant!Tav? Imagine all the angst that comes with Tav only seeking vengeance on their killer, knowing that their time is limited (revenants have only 1 year to enact their revenge). Or maybe the companions try to find a way of making them 'alive' again, if you want a happy ending? I just think it has a lot of potential and want to know your thoughts!

this one is a bit angsty, so reader beware

My beautiful boy Astarion understands the need for revenge, and is committed to helping you get it if you help him kill Cazador. The two of you stay up late at night to discuss tactics, how you will enact your brutality upon the people who deserve it… but then Astarion realises that you do not talk about what comes after, like he does when he considers a life without his abuser. He does a little research and finally finds what a revenant is. It breaks his heart to think that you’d die at the end of your quest because… well, he loves you. He begs you to reconsider. That there are other ways. You don’t need to be like him. But you take his cheek in your hand and tell him there is no other path for you, so the two of you must just enjoy the time you have together. If he finds a way to cure you, he’s yours forever - if not, the time you have together is sacred. He wastes not a second.

Gale immediately researching about how to lift your curse, that the two of you may live a happy life together after you get your revenge. You tell him not to bother, it’s too much effort, he needs to move on and find someone better - someone with a life worth giving to him. He deserves proper, warm, and tender love, something your dead heart isn’t capable of giving. He does not listen. He doubles down, desperate to keep you in his arms. Maybe he finds some secret forgotten rite which allows you to live after you’ve killed the person who wronged you… or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he watches you die and pass on peacefully when you’re done, then does everything he can to ascend to godhood and bring your soul back into his arms. Either way, nothing will stop your wizard. 

Wyll listens to your story with a heaviness in his heart, but he knows he wasn’t upfront about his past either… but that does give him an idea. One night, with no way to understand how or why, you feel your curse being lifted, life returning properly to your body. When you seek out your Blade he tries to act pleased, but there’s something weighing on him. It does not take long to realise that he has given up his soul in its entirety to Mizora in order to restore yours. You cry and wail and beat at his chest pathetically. How could he make such a trade? You are not worth it. He holds you at arm’s length to look you over and tells you you’ve always been worth it, and he’d make his choice a thousand times over again. You love him so utterly that you're brought to silence. You vow to make the best of this gift he’s given you, with him by your side.

She knows what it is like to live your last days, does Karlach. The infernal engine in her will kill her sooner rather than later, so she indulges with you. Rich food, fine wine, long evenings of partying and celebrations of life. At Baldur’s Gate you hold her after she kills Gortash, and she begs you not to follow her suit, because revenge isnt worth it. This confession just leaves you empty. There is nothing left after except hollowness. And maybe you listen to her, the two of you find a way out of your curse and go on to Avernus to live out your happiness there (or what you can muster of it) or maybe you ignore her, or your time runs out, and she is left to face the Absolute alone - and lets herself burn on that dock, because a life without you isn’t a life at all.

Lae’zel is excited about your revenge. Enthusiastic, even supportive. She does not understand the nature of your curse. Many a long evening is spent training with her so you may sharpen your abilities, and she gains a great respect for you as both a warrior and a person. Either you find a cure which allows you to be together… or too late does she find out what your revenge brings. She holds you in her arms as you pass, your final words ones of love as your body goes limp and your soul passes into a different plane. She takes a lock of your hair and keeps it on her as a reminder. It is all she has left, after all.

Shadowheart is a great supporter of you… as a Sharran. She pushes for your revenge, evangelising the merits of you killing the person who wronged you, as it’s what Lady Shar would want. But then, as a Selûnite, she begins to think differently. Life is sweeter than she believed. There is more to it than suffering, and she wants to experience the loveliness of it with you by her side. She spends her nights poring over tomes to try and cure you. Maybe she finds a way with her new goddess. If not, when you pass, she keeps you in her heart forever, trying to move on with the guidance of her new goddess, but always feeling just that little bit empty without you.

Taglist:  @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kat @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @snoozeeebee @hopeful-n-sad

[umemiyan]

OOOOOOOO FUN FUN

Okay so let’s do 54. “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.” from the smut asks with Choso!! You get to choose who’s watching 😈

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / masturbation / implied virgin!choso / based on prompt #54 from this list

HEHEHEHE okay it took me a while to decide on this actually but here we go <3 i haven't written for choso in forever so thank you for giving me the inspo to do it. ily!

“what do you want, choso?”

pulling away from his lips, your question hangs in the air alongside anticipation, frustrations and desires higher than both your heart rates. his lips hover below your jaw, breath a warm breeze against your neck. there’s a lump in his throat, and he audibly swallows it.

“well?” you ask, probing the man as his hands establish dominion over your waist, clutching for an inkling of stability.

you’d riled each other up before, kissed until your lips became numb, even gotten rather raunchy over a series of text messages, but that had been the extent of it. you aim to change that, right here, right now, with arousal pulsing like a drug through your veins.

after a few more moments of silence and heavy breathing, he finally answers, “lay back and touch yourself. i want to watch.” choso immediately regrets that it comes out sounding like a demand, so he quickly softens it with an amicable ‘please.’

he had dreamed of seeing your pussy spread out before him, wet with excitement like the girls he'd researched on the internet. he could only imagine how much prettier you would look in the flesh demonstrating to him how you liked to please yourself, and he only hoped you'd be willing to entertain his fantasy.

with an enthusiastic smile, you crawl down to the end of the couch and situate yourself against the pillows, wasting no time in slipping your clothes off from the waist down and exposing yourself to him. choso watches intently, hair plastered to his forehead with the glue of sweat and his jaw going slack when you spread your legs wide in a grand reveal. it's even better than he could've imagined.

you present a slick cunt that clenches when you slip a finger over your clit, the look on choso's face causing you to wonder why you hadn't done such a thing much sooner. saliva pools in his mouth, eyes fixated on how you glisten, and he wraps a hand around your ankle to steady himself as his mind becomes a spinning whirlwind of lust. your scent reaches his nostrils and it takes every ounce of strength for him not to dive forward and instinctively latch his mouth to your heat.

choso is the one who moans when you push two fingers into your hole, the squelch competing with the low sound deep in his throat. you grin in response, amused with his reaction, but he doesn't see it—he's too busy imagining how hot your pussy must feel, gaze never once straying from it.

you nearly giggle at his sheer intensity, but choso's other hand reaches up to squeeze your knee without apology, taking this moment as seriously as anything else in his life.

"do that again," he requests, no longer ridden with uncertainty but instead hungry for the visual of you sliding two fingers into yourself. he yearns for his cock to take their place, but he first needs to appreciate your body as its own entity before he inevitably becomes a part of it.

[circle-with-me]

make me feel like a god - noah sebastian x g/n reader

pairing: noah sebastian x g/n reader (no use of pronouns)

content warning/tags: 18+ MDNI!! handjob, spit as lubricant, use of sex toys (anal plug), overstimulation, whining/whimpering noah gets his own warning <3

word count: 1.6k

tag list: @concretenoah @deathblacksmoke @darksigns-exe @malice-ov-mercy @to-be-written @sitkowski @tearfallpixie @collective-heartbreak @cookiesupplier @cind6547 @meekahy @lacktoesandtoddlerants @jilliemiw86 @sammyjoeee @collapsedglasshouses @broken0mens @itsafullmoon @bruisedleftknee @0fth34byss @unicornfairytail @catharsis-in-darkness @agravemisstake

if you would like to be added to my tag list please sign up here.

author’s note: this idea came from a fun little fever dream i had when i was sick with strep throat last week. so, shout out to fever dreams, i guess.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Noah mentioned the idea to you in passing. It came a few days after the two of you had spent an evening together watching porn. One particular video had a man using an anal plug during sex. A vibrating plug, specifically.

As you watched together, you noticed how it intrigued him. How sensitive it made the man on the screen, the intensity of his orgasm. By the end of it, he had hit replay and pulled you on top of him, desperate to be inside of you.

So when he sidled up to you in the kitchen a couple of days later, you had to hide your knowing smile. He struggled with his words, wringing his hands together like it was the world’s biggest favor. It broke your heart a little, knowing he was so nervous to ask you for something he wanted.

Finally, he managed to ask. He told you he had been thinking about it all week, making sure he really wanted to do this. He had done research. How he needs to prepare, the best kind of lubricants, even the best toys for beginners.

Once he’s finished you sneak down to the hallway closet. You pull a small black gift bag out and return to the kitchen quietly. Noah gives you a quizzical look as you sit the bag down but he opens it without question. His eyes bug out of his head when he realizes you’re already one step ahead of him.

“It’s simple.” You say, bumping your hip into his. “Nothing fancy. The shop owner said to start small.”

It was indeed simple. A black slender device with a flared base about 3.5” in length. Noah comments on the different speeds and pulses. You look over them together and he seems elated. You can’t help but feel excitement pool in your belly.

Noah nearly shoots through the ceiling when you ask if he wants to try it out. He tightly grabs the bag and bounds up the stairs to shower, but not before kissing you on the cheek.

Nearly an hour goes by and you’re getting worried. You consider going up there to check on him but you don’t. If he needed help he would ask. Plus, you know how he is, if he said he’s researched it he’s definitely a pro by now.

No sooner do you finish your thought does he call down the stairs for you.

He’s sitting in the chair by his desk when you enter your room, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. He sees you watching him and flashes a nervous, crooked smile at you, your heart fluttering in response.

“Are you ready, baby?”

Noah nods, straightening himself in his seat.

“Yeah, it’s um… it’s in. I haven’t turned it on. I was going to let you do that.” He stretches his arm out to hand you the remote and you take it. He looks at you expectantly as he glides his fingers down your leg.

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?”

He considers the question for a moment, looking to the bed and back to you. Eventually he decides to remain in his current position and you nod, bending over him to place the remote directly behind him on the desk. His gentle touches against your thighs become more insistent, dragging you to sit down with him.

Settling onto Noah’s lap, your hands drift into his hair. The locks at the nape of his neck are still damp as you twist your fingers through them. You nuzzle against his neck, inhaling his scent, catching your strawberry shampoo he used in the shower. The fruity notes blended with his own natural musk has your head swimming.

You trace your tongue along the outside of Noah’s ear, feeling him shiver from your touch. As you graze your teeth over his earlobe he whimpers, the chair creaking underneath the two of you as he shifts. He’s so sensitive already.

Tonight is going to be even better than you imagined.

Noah attempts to slot your hips over his but you resist. He tries again and you refuse, focusing on marking up his neck. His frustration is clear but he doesn’t try again. Instead, he lays his head back against the chair giving you more access to explore. His fingers tighten then relax around the back of your neck while his other hand ventures up your shirt.

He whines when you don’t remove your shirt as quickly as he wants and you quietly scold him. He apologizes with the prettiest little pout and you reward him by removing the rest of your clothes, returning to your seat on his lap. His breath catches in his throat when you glide your hips over his, grazing his half-hard cock.

His hands shake as he reaches for your hips to guide them over his own. You allow him to indulge for a moment, getting your own satisfaction out of it as well. It takes all of your willpower to stop, however, reminding yourself that this is about him, not you.

Noah is easily soothed when you ask if he’s ready to turn on the plug. He nods enthusiastically, dragging his lip between his teeth in anticipation. Running your fingers through his hair you ask him if he’s ready. He takes a deep breath and nods, telling you to continue. You grab the remote and hit the button.

Noah's moans quickly mute the quiet pulsating buzz from the device. Every muscle in his body tenses as he gasps for air, reaching out for you desperately. You allow him to pull you close, snaking his arms tightly around your center. He crashes his lips into yours, prying your mouth open savoring your taste. You press the button again, and the vibration speeds up slightly, making him quiver beneath you.

He holds you against him so tightly you find it hard to breathe. Nothing but quiet gasps and whispered curses escape him as he hangs off of your lips, trying to regain his composure.

“Please..” Noah pitifully chokes out. You kiss the sides of his mouth repeatedly in an attempt to coax out his words but it’s of no use. He’s entirely too blissed out to speak. Adjusting yourself on his lap just so, you move your hand between the two of you.

“Shh, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Sweet words of praise spill from him as you take him in hand. His words are cut off by a moan when you spit on his cock, spreading your saliva along his length. He calls out your name, resuming his praise. Stuttering how good you are to him as he digs into the meat of your thighs.

Noah watches you jerk his cock slowly, begging for you to go faster. Quieting him with a kiss, you ask him to be patient. He tries to relax and be good for you, but you can’t help but notice tears welling up in his gorgeous brown eyes, his desperation evident when he raises them to meet yours.

Saliva pools at the edges of his open mouth and spills onto your hand. You speed up your movements, forcing a strangled whimper from him. Writhing beneath you, he leans back against the chair, head lolling over the headrest.

The orange glow in the room lights up his tattooed body. Beads of sweat glide down his heaving chest. His muscles contract with every new sensation he feels. You watch as his jaw clenches tightly, only to relax again as he cries out for you. The man before you is so strikingly gorgeous everything that surrounds you fades and disappears.

Noah’s efforts to speak come out as incoherent nonsense. Seeing him so completely subdued and in this euphoric state stirs up feelings inside of you so intense you can’t place them. His half-lidded eyes bore into you and it becomes clear to you that he’s surrendered himself to you completely.

You soothe his face with your hand, kissing the tears cascading down his cheeks. The intimate act is in stark contrast to the way your hand is furiously maneuvering over his cock. For all of the beautiful sounds you’ve pulled from him, you get a sense he needs something else. Something in the way his hips stutter into your fist indicates he needs more.

As you whisper into his ear, he nods, a pitiful “mm-hmm” falling from his lips. Reaching for the device behind him, you press the button one last time. Instantly his back arches and he cries out, his warm release erupting up and over your hand. His hands grip your thighs, the sides of the chair, any surface he can find to ground himself.

You talk him through his earth shattering orgasm, uttering praise after praise into ear. His body convulses so violently you’re afraid the chair will fall over. Finally, he begins to come down, body still jolting occasionally with aftershocks. He threads a hand through your hair, blindly searching for your mouth unable to pry his eyes open.

Giggling, you attach your lips to his and he sighs, bringing you with him as he melts into the chair. Noah shifts, placing his hand between the two of you and you gasp when he touches you. He grunts, feeling how affected you are from your activities.

“Baby…” Noah breathes. “Let me return the favor.”

As tempting as it is, you turn his attention to the mess the two of you have made and he chuckles, agreeing that it needed to be dealt with first. Once he regains feeling in his legs you run to the shower to get cleaned up, making sure to bring the remote with you.

[james-is-here]

You're writing a hyune fic with him getting shaboinked by French reader??? Lord, I just found out. We need it asap, I need to be fed babes

I hope you accept this in the mean time 🥺 It's still Hyun being shaboinked, this is something I suddenly thought of. 😠🫵 Fluffy mullet Hyunjin, I don't make the rules.

Tags: Fluff, implied Wifey dorm, Smut, receiving BJ while on a call, very wet, lots of spit, Alternative Wheelbarrow on a couch :P, French reader, whiny Hyunjin, Special Guest: Changbin 🫢

Yes, I researched the position, leave me be. Let me know if I forgot a tag 😘✌🏼

[Translations] Ma Belle Chérie: My Beautiful darling | Attendre: Wait | Mon Petit Artiste: My Little Artist

French, Korean, English

Blogs: @succubus-hansol @theo4eve @forever-atiny @dis-trict9 @lemon--shark @victorbutnotreally @leezanetheofficial @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @yongbokkk @dontwannaexist @demtttt

(Red means can't tag)

Hyunjin walked towards the kitchen only to stop when he hears you on the couch.

You're talking on the phone and he assumes it's someone from your home as you lazily mutter in french to whoever is on the other end. You look bored, tired even, and when you stop speaking you look over and smile at him, holding up your phone and he sees an unnamed phone number with the call time being an hour and counting.

You mute your self for a moment and tell him it's just a boring meeting before unmuting and going back to listening. He giggles, smiling widely as he's pretty sure you've barely been listening.

You begin to talk again as he carefully lays down on top of you. You shift, switching your phone to your other hand and your now free hand rests on his back as he gets comfortable on your chest with a smile. He sighs contentedly as you begin to fidget. Your hand rubbing his back in circles, fingers idly dragging up and down or walking along his spine, playing with his hair, gently tangling them in the long strands.

He leans into your touch, sighing again and nuzzling into your chest again. You smile, gazing down at Hyunjin as you continue to speak and move your hand to rest on his jaw. He looks up at you when you thumb his cheek. He shifts, moving to lay his head on your shoulder and kiss your cheek before settling and burying his face into your neck. You pull him closer, kissing his temple with a smile and settling against the pillow you've been laying on.

Being this close to you, he can feel the vibrations as you speak and with each beautiful french word, you speak basically into his ear, making him blush slightly. He smiles shyly into your neck, you're not even talking to him and yet he still blushes. With a sudden wave of love, he leans back, kissing your cheek again, then your jaw, under your jaw, and along your neck. He didn't think his affection would affect you much, you clear your throat when he feels you about to groan when he kisses next to your adam's apple, your hand on his side squeezes him occasionally, you tilt your head back into the pillow to slightly give him more room.

He doesn't realize how much it's affecting you until he moves his left leg to drape over your waist and you stutter slightly, stuttering over your words when his shin grazes your crotch when he lifted his knee. He pulls back, watching you stutter between French and Korean before stopping and starting again in French.

Looking down and moving his leg, he sees the slight tent in your sweats and he smiles. You're wearing grey sweats, he's a mad man that he didn't see them sooner, he would've done something from the start. Hyunjin is a slut for you in grey sweats.

He scoots down and he assumes you finished what you had to say as you mute yourself and pull your phone away from your ear. "A-Attendre, Attendre, Ma Belle Cheri, hold on." He moves to his knees, straddling and hovering over your thigh with his hands resting on your hips, holding himself up as he pouts down at you with wide shiny eyes that he knows you'll fall for. "Please, Mn~?" "C-Can it wait until this is done, please? Da'ling I-I would love to have you around me and...this meeting is really boring but-" "Then let me entertain you~ These people mean nothing, right?" "W-Well, they're accountants and-" "That's not what I asked. Do they mean anything? You already do everything with your company, you already handle that stuff without help so do you need them? Do you really need to be in that meeting?" "U-Um, no, I guess not but it's not a great impression when the CEO doesn't show up to meetings. They already think I'm being rude cause I'm not there in person." "Mn~ You're on vacation, you're here with your lovely boyfriend in Korea, not there at work in France." He whines.

Moving further down, you move your phone closer to your ear to pick up your assistant calling your name. "Go on, just pretend I'm not here and enjoy it." He mutters, still pouting while he hooks his fingers into your waist band and pulls them down enough and you resist hissing at the cold air as you unmute and ask for your assistant to repeat herself, briefly brushing your fingers through his long hair to the back of his neck and squeezing his nape.

He looks up, moving back up to you as you tilt your phone down and he leans in to kiss you firmly, letting you lick into his mouth messily as he wraps his hands around your cock and pulls it out of your sweats, gently dragging his fingers up along your length before resting his hand on your abdomen.

Pulling away carefully, only making a small slick noise as he pulls away from your lips, Hyunjin pulls your sweats down to your mid thigh as he moves back down, gathering saliva on his tongue and licking from your base to your tip. You inhale slowly, shifting your right leg slightly to give him more space. He wraps his fingers around you and spits more saliva onto your cock before stroking you slowly, squeezing only slightly as his closed fist slowly slides along your length.

He lays his head on your thigh, looking up at you as he lets go and slides his fingers up to your tip. He wraps his hand around you, just stroking your tip with a tight fist before he goes back to stroking your whole shaft at a quicker pace.

He watches you take deep breaths, visibly trying to ignore him but he knows you can't resist watching him suck you off. You shudder when he sits up and presses his soft, plush lips against your cock. Pressing light kisses from your base and up, occasionally giving little licks until he reaches your tip and wraps his lips around it. You inhale sharply as he swirls his tongue around your tip slowly, dipping into your slit and beginning to sink onto your cock.

He sinks slowly, licking every new bit that he takes into his mouth until he takes you whole. He takes a second to settle his gag when your tip met the back of his throat. Looking up, he sees you swallow heavily before slowly exhaling. He pulls up until his lips are around your tip then sinks back down, licking the underside of your cock the best he can before bobbing up and down. He hums around you quietly, bobbing at a quick pace, and starting a pattern of going quick, pulling up and sinking down slowly, then continuing his quick pace. His hands resting on your thigh and on your pelvis around your cock.

Looking up, the hand on your thigh moves up to move your shirt out of the way and he can see the muscles in your stomach clenching and unclenching as you resist moving, as you resist as hard as you can to not throw your phone, hold his head, and fuck his throat. He knows you would if you weren't on the phone.

He pulls off your cock with a loud gasps, breathing heavily as spit trails from your tip to his lips. His throat feels sore but he ignores it as he strokes you at a fast pace and leans down to lick your base. It's messy, your cock covered in spit but you can't look down, honestly you'll break if you look down so you keep your eyes closed.

He wetly kisses your length and slows down the speed of his hand. You finally look down at him, your mouth opening before you snap it shut and inhale sharply, pressing your head back into the pillow. "Hyungie~" He purrs quietly, kissing your pelvis then your hip. You look down again and see him humping the couch. You switch your phone to your other hand, reaching to the floor to grab the other pillow you moved and give it to him. He moves instantly, removing your sweats so you can give him even more room by moving your right leg off the couch as he shoves the pillow between his legs and lays back down, left hand taking its place on your thigh and right holding your cock at the base before he takes you whole again, gagging for a second before relaxing and starting where he left off.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he whimpers around your dick. He wants more but you're still on your stupid call so he whines as he settles with the clear comprise you decided and grinds into the pillow hard, shifting around until he moans around your length again when the pillow settles perfectly against his aching erection still confined in his sweats. Every hump against the pillow sends shocks to his core and makes him moan around you even more.

His humping, his mouth, his tongue, and the adorable moans and whimpers he lets out finally get to you and you snap.

He looks up when you groan, pulling off your cock when he hears your phone meet the coffee table and barely has time to process before you're firmly kissing him, biting his lip harshly and aggressively lick into his mouth, pulling away with a more audible slick click before carefully manhandling him to bend over off the couch. His top half directed towards the floor with his knees on the couch, his ass presented for you as he leans onto his arms.

You pull down his sweats, collecting some of the spit from your length and coating your fingers before pressing your finger against his rim and slowly pushing in. He gasps, moving his knees further out slightly and picking himself up to place his hands on the floor.

Pulling your finger out and inserting two, you pull breathy moans from him as he moves back to his elbows, incredibly grateful that the couch isn't too tall. "Hyung, please~" You pull your fingers out, kneeling between his knees and pressing your tip against his rim and pushing in slowly but fast enough to pull an elongated, load moan out of Hyunjin. He would've lived with the pillow, has cum from just sucking you off before, but you hit all the right spots perfectly, pulling breathy whines out of him as he can feel every pulse and twitch as you stretch him out. His own cock, heavy between his thighs, twitches and leaks pre-cum.

You start a quick pace, pulling high pitched 'ha~'s out of him with every thrust you push into his tight hole. Your right hand grips his hip as your left rests on his lower back, following his arch until you can't reach anymore. His shirt has slid to his shoulders, exposing his smooth back that you can't help but scratch, needing to mark the smooth canvas that is the beauty that is all yours.

His small 'Ha's turn into your name, practically every other thrust is a small gasp followed by a whiny call of your name. You love how broken he gets under you, so whiny and reduced to only moaning your name and cuss words until you fuck him so good he can only moan your name.

"M- M- M-" He gasps and you smile, he can't seem to even get your name out. "Do you feel good, Ma Belle? Too fucked out all you can do is make those beautiful noises?" "Ca- C- Ca-Call- Ha~ Fuuuuck-ing sh-shit AH!" Your right hand moves off his hip and smacks his ass. "I-I hung up." You groan. "Th-They c-can finish without me." You thrust into him hard, pausing at the hilt and he squeals as he practically feels you in his throat, he feels so good, you make him feels so good and fuzzy.

You pull back and fuck into him at your previously quick pace, your right hand gripping his ass cheek and your left scratching down his back before moving to grip his hip. He clenched around you, panting heavily as he moves up onto his hands then back to his arms. He squirms the best he can in the position, can't decide between his arms or hands. "Shh, it's okay, Mon Prince, it's okay. Gonna cum soon? Gonna make a mess on the floor?" He settled back on his arms when your hand slowly slides up his back.

"Y- M'y- M'yeah, ye- p-please~ G'cum~" "Cum for me, Mon Petit Artiste." "Fuck, Fuck, M-Mn~ Ah, Mn! Hngh~ Ah~ Shit~!!" His back arches up as he tries to lean into the pleasure of his release, hip jerking as he spurts onto the floor and a little onto the couch, his cock twitching as you hit his prostate and he trembles as he pants heavily, attempting to take deep breaths but they're slow and stuttery as he whines.

"F-Fuck, Fuck, inside?" He whimpers as he nods his head against the rug. "Shit, Hyun~ Ah~" You push all the way into him, holding his ass against your pelvis as you cum inside him, groaning low and deep as your grip becomes practically bruising on his hips. You thrust into him hard as you cum, holding for a moment and shallowly thrust hard into him again before pausing at the hilt and letting your high wash over you.

"M-Mn~" Hyunjin whines, slowly moving onto his hands and finally looking back at you and you notice he had been crying. Panting, you gently rub his hips and rub his ass with both hands. "Aw, My little crybaby~" You purr softy and let go of his ass, moving your left hand to his hip and go to pull out but he gasps out a whimper. "N-No, not yet..." You sigh, right arm moving around his side to his front and placing your hand on his left collar bone and asking him to push himself off the floor.

It works, surprisingly. Your hand and arm on his chest hold him up as you pull him back and his hands reach back until he can feel your waist. You grunt as you shift and sigh. "Ma Belle, I don't want to hurt you. Can I pull out until we're lying down?" He whines, but pouts and drops his head after nodding.

You slowly pull out and can tell he's trying to hold your cum in. You're quick to help him move off his knees so he doesn't fall and you lay the both of you down to your right and pull him close, reentering him with a groan that blends with Hyunjin's moan. He relaxes into your arms, clenching around your length when you shifted slightly to grab the blanket on the back of the couch.

Hyunjin is dozing in and out of sleep and you had to carefully slip off your shirt and toss it onto Hyunjin's mess on the floor, hopefully you'll remember to clean it up.

You slowly begin to drift off to sleep when footsteps can be heard making their way to where they are. You suddenly think 'Maybe if I lay still, he won't see me' which backfired when Changbin walked in and paused, staring at the two of you on the couch to get a closer look. Pants and shirt on the floor, you and Hyunjin under a blanket, faces still flushed pink but your blush darkens the longer you watch Changbin.

"You should double check if anyone is home first." Changbin says with an awkward smile. "I was on a call, he started it. I'm sorry." "It's okay. Just...always double check. Are you..." He gestures to you then Hyunjin then the blanket. "Yeah." "You sleep, I can help clean." He reaches for the shirt and you stop him. "Ah, Ah, wait, I-I can get the shirt." He picked up the sweats and reached for the shirt even with your protest. "Mn, you don't know how many times I've already had to clean up his messes, do you?" "Wait, that's not-" He picked up the shirt that was cover in cum and a lot was still on the floor.

"Oh." "Sorry." "Well, I didn't listen." He proceeded to use the shirt to wipe up the rest of his band mates cum and you feel incredibly embarrassed. "I'm really sorry." "It's fine." He smiles genuinely, carefully wrapping the shirt in the sweats. "I can bring more clothes too." "Actually, that'd be helpful." "Are yours with his?" "Mine are in the suitcase in the corner." "Cool." He walks away with the soiled clothes and you call out another apology. "I'm sorry, Binnie! And thank you!" "No problem and you're welcome!!"

You wrap your arms around Hyunjin and bury your burning face into his shoulder and fall asleep.

When you woke up, you've slipped out of Hyunjin and he's now curled up against your chest and tucked under your chin with both your arms wrapped around him. You stir, opening your eyes to look down at Hyunjin sleeping then look around. You fix the blanket that's exposed part of his ass and look at the end of the couch to see clothes for the both of you.

You sigh, remembering that Changbin was in his room that entire time but it doesn't feel as awkward as you thought it would feel when Changbin eventually walked in or heard you and Hyunjin accidentally.

Looking back down at Hyunjin, you kiss his temple and tighten your hold around him, deciding to go back to sleep for a little longer.

I just love that after I post, I go to edit it and then come up with things to add to it after people have already read it. 🤦🏼

[sweetieviktor]

"take me back to the night we met", feat. viktor.

summary: you knew he was dieing, but seeing him using shimmer was too much to bare . based on the song "the night we met", by lord huron.

word count: 720.

content warning: season 1, act 3 spoilers! idk if shimmer use count as a cw, but anyways this is angst and it doesn't have a happy ending!

author notes: there's so much time since i've written fanfiction!! but i loved doind this one and i swear that i cried while writing this. and this may be very ooc and doesn't match the scenes in season 1, act 3, but i dont have time to watch it again now and i was so hyped up bcs of season 2 that i just had to write something, yk? also, there may be some typos or grammar errors even though i re-read this like 3 times i think lol. but yeah, here it is!

you came back to his lab expecting to see him doing good, maybe working on his research, too focused on any stuff he was doing at the moment and not noticing you by the door, but he wasn't in there, or so it looked like.

he was hunched over his desk, in his hands was a glass tube, the remaining of the purple liquid shimmering in the dark room, illuminating just enough to draw his weak silhouette amongst the shadows.

“viktor…?” was everything you said while getting closer to him, walking with slow steps, trying to make no sounds to alarm him.

“stop.” raising a hand, that was all he said.

just as you were told, you stopped on your tracks, observing that, his once perfect hand, was now painted in a shade of purple, the same that was inside the glass recipient.

it can't be. right?

“what you did to yourself?”

“i did what needed to be done.” he was so baretoned, you didn't understand why he seemed so rude, so crude, so… unlike him.

when his words settled in, it felt like your stomach was turning, wrapping itself around your guts, making you sick. you felt sick, for him.

“please, please, viktor, don't tell me that you're using sh-” “yes.”

of course you knew about his condition, of course you knew he wasn't doing good at all, and mostly, you knew that things were meant to end, one way or another. but you didn't think he would kill himself like this.

and this was all you needed to break.

“why you didn't told me? i could have helped you, we could find a way to work through it,” the tears started to prick on your eyes, your voice breaking, the anger at yourself pooling into your core. “you wouldn't need to use shimmer, vik...”

the feeling that the universe stole and took all that once mattered to you was what drove you insane. the feeling that you could make things different, make things better, the oh so simple solution that you could find, if only he had told you.

“it’s not that easy! you wouldn't understand if i told you sooner. no one would understand it, even if they tried really hard to.” he turned his head towards your direction, looking at your face for a brief second, before turning his gaze back to the ground, his purple irises trying to focus on something that wasn't your saddened face, now, feeling his own eyes burning, burning even more than the blood running in his veins. “we are in piltover, the city of progress, and yet, i am stuck behind, and i'm dieing. so, i needed to do something, and i did.”

“what you don’t understand is that you're destroying yourself, viktor. destroying yourself so slowly that it almost feels like torture. i fear that i wouldn't be able to see you for another day.” you sobbed, the tears rolling down and he didn't dare to look at your eyes again, he knew that you were crying. he knew it and he couldn't bear the thought that he was the one that made you cry. “if there is a god somewhere, i wish they could turn back time and take me back to the night we met. maybe things could be different, right?”

looking at him, a weak, nervous smile was all you could get out while crying, thinking to yourself when things started to get this wrong and how you let it happen, without even realizing what was wrong. how could you let him do this to himself?

your body was shaking, it felt like the whole world was trembling. the nonstoping thoughts hammering your head, your heart a mile per minute, the air in your lungs wasn't enough. everything, everything seemed like it was crushing down on you, right in this moment.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry... i need to go. now.”

you needed to get out of here, you needed to breathe.

you headed back to the door, wishing that some cold breeze would cool you down, would just stop your mind and racing heart. wishing for him to be fine again. praying for any and all gods that lived in the skies and beyond, praying for him to be alive. just for a bit more.

[dark-frosted-heart]

From a Mean Lie, Love Begins - Roger Barel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Secondhand embarrassment ahead.

After finishing dinner, I had some free time and so I decided to help Roger with his research.

As I descended the stairs leading to the basement like usual, I heard two people talking and stopped in my tracks.

(Roger and…Harrison?)

Their expressions were so serious that I couldn’t find the right time to call out to them.

Harrison: …In such a bad shape?

Roger: Yeah. Heard from experts that it can’t be returned to its original state. Spine’s so wrecked and can’t stand without support.

Harrison: So caught up in research that you can’t even take care of yourself. What a laugh. …Could’ve done something about it if it was caught sooner.

(What does he mean…? Roger, are you in such a bad state that you can’t stand…?)

He looked fine last night while happily drinking.

(But…there are some illnesses out there that are invisible)

(Was he self-destructing by drinking so much because he couldn’t save himself…?)

Roger: Well, I’ll see what I can do for now. I got a reputation of not being a quitter. Just gotta hang in there ‘til the end. If you can’t…then we’ll deal with it when the time comes.

As I secretly peeped at them, I saw Roger give a weak smile.

(Roger’s body really is wrecked…)

(He couldn’t have been lying if Harrison’s there…)

I couldn’t bring myself to say anything and quietly left before they could notice.

–

(I wasn’t aware that Roger’s condition was that bad…)

(But now that I know…I can change my behavior)

(Tomorrow, I’ll do my best to support Roger so that he doesn’t suffer)

The day after learning about Roger’s condition, I secretly made a decision. I’ll immediately start helping him out.

–

Kate: Here, Roger. Open your mouth please.

After cutting the meat on the plate into bite-sized pieces, I held it up to Roger’s mouth.

Roger: …? I can eat by myself, lil’ lady.

Kate: Please don’t overwork yourself! I’ll be supporting you throughout your life! 

Roger: The hell’s gotten into you?

Roger tried to stand up with a puzzled look on his face, and I rushed to stop him.

Kate: Ah, please don’t force yourself to stand!

Roger: I just wanna get a drink…

Kate: I’ll get it for you!

I stood up instead and got Roger a glass of water.

Kate: Here you go Roger.

Roger: Thanks…

Alfons: Good grief…Stop worrying about that muscle-headed, research-obsessed idiot and feed me, little robin?

Kate: …You’re feeling fine, aren’t you Alfons? You don’t need help, do you?

Alfons: I’m certainly feeling rather energized this morning, however…

With the way you’re speaking…You make it sound as if Roger’s not well.

Kate: …

I became depressed as I thought back to yesterday’s conversation.

Roger: …Lil’ lady?

Kate: I heard it yesterday. The conversation between you and Harrison… That your body was so wrecked that you couldn’t stand…!

Roger: Hm? That’s…

Alfons: Oh? I knew you wouldn’t live long but is it finally time to kick the bucket?

Roger: …

At the question, Roger exchanged glances with Harrison and then let out a sigh.

Roger: …Everyone’s gonna wind up six feet under eventually. It just depends on when.

(If you’re not denying it, then it’s true…?)

Kate: Please don’t talk about giving up like that…! I may not understand your condition, but I’ll be supporting you from today onward!

Roger: That’s helpful. Well I got some research I’d like you to help me with now…

Kate: Please leave it to me!

–

I was helping Roger out with his research like he’d asked and it was approaching midnight.

Roger: It’s getting late. Why don’t you get back to your room, lil’ lady?

Kate: What about you?

Roger: …I’ll get some rest too.

Kate: Liar. You’re going to keep working, aren’t you?

When I glared at Roger for that impromptu lie, he just shrugged.

Roger: …I got some interesting data so I wanna work on it for a bit longer.

Kate: It’s not like the data’s going anywhere tomorrow and the numbers won’t change. Take it easy and look after yourself.

I forced Roger out of his chair and onto an infirmary bed.

Roger: Are you planning on helping me not just today, but the next day onward too?

Kate: Yes. I’m worried about your health so that’s my intention.

Roger: Heh, your thoughts never fail to surprise me. You’d agree to anything I’d ask you right now, wouldn’t you?

Kate: Is there anything else you want me to do?!

Roger asked me to help with his research today, but…that’s just an extension of how I usually help him.

(If I could do anything for Roger since he’s not physically well…I’d do it)

Roger: Yeah…How about this. Kiss me. Roger grabbed my hand as he sat up in bed.

(Why a kiss…ah)

(If you don’t feel well, then you’ll feel even more lonely or hopeless…)

No doubt the kiss wouldn’t have any special feeling behind it…rather, it’d  just be some physical contact to fill the loneliness.

(Roger’s selfishly kissed me numerous times before)

(No point in rejecting him at this point)

(More importantly, I’d like to help Roger when I can…)

Because I’m standing, I don’t have to go on my tiptoes to kiss him today.

To keep it from getting in the way,I tucked my hair behind my ear with the hand not being held by Roger.

Kate: Nn…

I gave Roger a light peck.

Though it was just a brief, I filled Roger’s heart with all the compassion I could muster.

Roger: Ha…it’s still not enough.

Roger tugged hard on the hand he was holding.

Kate: …Oof

Roger was pushed down onto the bed as he pulled me toward him.

Kate: A-are you alright?! Does it hurt anywhere?

Roger: Nothing hurts so just leave it. That aside, do it again.

Kate: …

At his begging, I pushed Roger down and kissed him again.

This time, his hand went up to the back of my head to keep me from pulling away too soon.

Kate: Nn…haaa…

Roger’s tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine.

Breathtaking kisses were something Roger had shown me.

(I don’t know how many more kisses like this I’ll get…)

The thought of it made my heart ache…I continued to kiss Roger to make him happy.

Roger: …You’d really do anything, wouldn’t you?

Roger mumbled as our lips parted.

Roger: Do you do this with anyone you know is weak…?

(I tried to imagine it but…it’d be difficult to do this with anyone but Roger)

(Roger’s touched me before, so it’s a different set of obstacles from others…I think)

Kate: I think it’s normal to want to do things for someone who’s suffering.

Roger: …If that’s the case, then I can’t just go quietly.

Kate: …Huh?

Roger: Who’ll take care of Crown when I’m gone? They could call in a doctor from the outside, but it’d be hard to respond at my speed. And if that does happen, you’d have a lot of weak men lying around you. Don’t wanna put you in a situation where you’d be compassionate toward weak men besides me.

(Are you saying this to protect me…? But…)

Kate: But even if you say that, your body’s already…

Roger: Ah…Think it’s time I cleared up this misunderstanding.

Kate: Misunderstanding…?

Roger: That conversation you heard between Harrison and me was actually about—

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: …?

Harrison: What’s up?

Roger: Nothing, just heard the lil’ lady’s footsteps…But she turned back.

Harrison: She probably read the air when she saw how serious we looked.

Roger: We weren’t talking about anything important so she could’ve just come in.

Harrison: Not important…Roger, do you really understand the value of this book? It’s a book signed by Edgar Allan Poe and it got ruined by chemicals…! The spine’s falling apart and the chemical’s made the text fade so much it’s unreadable. It couldn’t even stand on its own when I put it on a bookshelf…

Roger: It was a gift, but I got so caught up in my research that I got careless.

Harrison: *sigh*...This is why people only interested in research are nothing but trouble.

~~ End flashback ~~

Roger: So…It wasn’t me that got wrecked but a book.

Kate: Really…?

Roger: Yeah, really. As you can see, I’m healthy as a horse. Sorry for playing around with you without clearing it up right away. Thought it’d be a good excuse to get you to help with some research. I’ll take all your complaints.

Kate: Y-you’re the worst!!

With a singular curse, I ran out and to my room.

After closing the door, I collapsed on the spot.

Kate: That’s a relief… At least Roger isn’t dying…!

Feeling relieved, uncontrollable feelings spilled out in the form of tears.

I ran from Roger because I didn’t want him to see me cry. 

Roger’s voice: …Lil’ lady.

Roger’s voice could be heard from out in the hallway.

Kate: W-what is it? I’m mad at you right now…!

Roger’s voice: I wanna apologize, so open the door.

Kate: Don’t want to…

Roger’s voice: That so. …With the lie I told, I don’t blame you.

I thought Roger would give up once I refused him, but he showed no signs of leaving.

Kate: Um…You’re not going back to your room?

Roger: I’m gonna wait ‘til you open the door for me.

(If you say that, then i have no choice but to open the door…)

I wiped my eyes and opened the door.

Roger: …

Kate: D-did you by chance…hear anything when I came back to my room?

Roger’s curse gave him supernatural hearing.

“At least Roger isn’t dying…”

If he heard me say that as I cried, then my angry act would be all for nothing.

Roger: No? Didn’t hear anything. Anyway, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that misunderstanding about my life go that far.

Kate: … …You said you lied to get me to help you. So why the kiss?

Roger: You were worrying so much over taking care of me that it was endearing. I wanted to dote on you.

Kate: That wasn’t doting?! I’d call that making things difficult for me!

Roger: Really? I always thought you enjoyed the kisses. If I got the wrong idea then sorry. Let’s try again to be sure.

Kate: Why are you always taking things in that direction!  Do you even actually feel sorry at all?

Roger: I think so…Sorry.

Roger’s sudden, touching apology distracted me from my anger.

Roger: I won’t lie to you anymore. If me living longer makes you happy, then I’ll do just that.

Kate: I-I knew it. You did hear what I said when I got back to my room!

Roger: Whoops, that’s right. I didn’t hear a thing.

Kate: If you’re going to lie, then go through with it…!

Roger: Pfft…Haha.

Kate: …What are you laughing at?

Roger: Though I love how you look when you cry, I think I also love the way you yell with so much energy. Sorry for worrying you the whole day.

Roger roughly patted my head.

As I begrudgingly looked up at him, I realized that my heart was racing again.

(Roger already heard me say that I was relieved that he wasn’t going to die, but…)

(...I hope he doesn’t notice the sound of my heart racing as he pats my head)

[luffyvace]

Hello hope your doing well, I had this idea for a while now but I can please request Red hair pirates x male reader with heterochromia(serach it up if I don't what it is) where the reader is ashamed of their eyes and hides from the his new crewmates.

You also don't have to acppect my request. But anyways have a good day!💛

HIII I AM GOOD!! YOU? of course i accept your request anon!! :) dw i know what heterochromia is 😎😋

just for the record i’ve done research on the main 4 (shanks, ben, yasopp and lucky) in the past to get to know them better. so i’ll talk about them specifically and address the rest as “the crew” if that’s okay :)

THEY NEED MORE SCREEN TIME PLSSS

thank goodness for the one piece live action for a lot more gifs of all of them 😭💥

thank you so much for your request!! :) enjoy anon <3 and thank you for being patient!

so you just joined the red hair pirates recently

and you hide one of your eyes with an eye patch or your hair

shanks does wonder about it but doesn’t wanna bother you if your sensitive about it

bets it’s a scar

lucky and yasopp notice you hide your eye but they all have they’re personal reasons for stuff they do

so they assumed this was one of yours

ben thinks it could be a scar or you could just like to style your hair that way

but from the way it looks—how you try to keep it hidden so well and refuse to move it at all

he pretty much figures something happened

shanks and ben talk it over all the time

they never let you hear

just so your not uncomfortable

shanks will probably be the one to ask if curiosity gets the best of him

(it will)

”hey m/n, why do ya’ hide your eye?”

he asked it casually, drinking all the while

”oh..uhhhh, hide? i’m not hiding it..”

”so what do you call it?”

”it’s nothing shanks, i just…..like to style my hair this way”

”oh really?”

he pokes at you about it for a while

the other members kinda just watch as shanks playfully questions you

they figured he’d get it out of you

especially with his pushy yet teasing nature

and after a while…he did!

now idk how it went down since your so bent on not showing anyone

but!!

you slowly moved your eye patch/hair out the way to reveal your heterochromatic eyes!!

whoa!!

🤩

😗

we’re the reactions

it looked so cool?

so pretty?

wow it’s so unique i’ve never seen it in person?

woah how do you have two different colored eyes?

let me see!!

turn this way!

okay okay! stop pestering m/n!!

ben had to calm the rave about your eyes since he could clearly see you were a bit overwhelmed

everyone was admiring you and your eye

wondering why you didn’t show them sooner

which is what lucky asked

”i don’t know…i just..it’s shameful..my eyes aren’t even the same color!”

WHAT??

literally everyone’s reaction

wym 😐🤨

do you even know what your talking about right now??

ANYWAY

how’d you get it? we’re you born with it?

i don’t know how it works…how does it?

it’s kinda rare right?…wow…

everyone moves on because clearly your tripping

no but fr if you express your seriously upset about your eyes

the crew shares all types of embarrassing yet fun and heart warming secrets n stories to make you feel better

ben tells you there’s nothing to be ashamed about and that none of the crew would ever judge you for anything

”ain’t that right men?”

a loud uproar of “yeah’s” and cheers can be heard in agreement

yasopp definitely makes you laugh with some of his stories

turns out he’s just as goofy as his son

which he rants to you about said son for hours

makes you forget all about your troubles 😂

lucky and shanks lightly tease you for being so embarrassed over ‘somethin’ so silly’

but it’s all in good fun

in the end you all have drinks and get wasted

‘cheers to your eye! m/n!’

:)

KINDA SHORT BUTTTTT YEAH

i’m really happy with the ending i hope you like it too<3

[pookie-and-cereal]

PROMPTS OF ALL PROMPTS (Part I)

Fluffy Dialogue Sentence Starters

Warning ⚠️ there’s some mild intamcy at the end

"Is that my shirt?"

"Your cheeks are so cute!"

"Could you hold my hand? It’s for research purposes"

"Your hand is so small/big"

"You smell nice"

"I love you" "You mean it?" "Of course darling, you mean the world to me"

"Can I brush your hair?"

"Could you maybe— help zip up my dress/shirt?"

"I hate the summer! I’m so hot!" "You are— er— it is hot…"

"Don’t forget your coat, it’s cold outside"

"I love the way your hand feels on mine"

"You know you love me~"

"I got this pre ordered just for you"

"You look lovely darling"

"Why are you upset?" "You didn’t give me a kiss" "oh? Then, how about I fulfil that request right now?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" "You— You just look so amazing, and I look as if I’ve underdressed"

"If I knew you were an amazing kisser, I would’ve asked you out sooner"

"Like it?" "Like it? I love it!"

"Have you been taking my favorite shirts?!" "Uhm. Maybe?"

"Allow me"

"You are just so fine!"

"May I have this first dance?"

"Could you please let me make the first move! Just this once?"

"Oh! Uh— you like the way I kiss you?!"

Drunk Dialogue Sentence Starters

"Well, hello beautiful~"

"Could youuu hold myy duck?" "Do you mean glass—?" "Yes yes, of course, have another glass"

"Get off of me, you reek of alcohol"

"Was your voice alway this angelic?"

"Wanna hear a joke?" "No" "Who’s there?" "What?" "You’re supposed to sayyy knock knock!" "That’s not how it goes!"

"NoOoOoOo! Give me back my glass! I won fair and square!"

"I can handle my liquor" 2 minutes later "Why does my hand taste like chocolateee?"

"You look lonleyyyy~" "Mhm, and I prefer it that way"

"Pour me another glass, Sherman" "No, you’re too drunk! And for GODS SAKE MY NAME’S [ych]!"

I know there aren’t a lot for this prompt, but bare with me 🤡

Confession Dialogue Sentence Starters

"Why are you doing this?" "Because I love you"

"We can’t stay friends, because my feelings for you— they keep growing every single day"

"STOP BEING SO GODDMAN CUTE!" "You think I’m cute—?!" "Goddammit, me and my big mouth"

"Please kiss me," "what—?" "You heard me"

"Will you go out with me?"

"You’re gorgeous"

"Be mine?"

"I know we just did that to make my ex jealous, but uh, hehe, I’ve fallen for you. Literally"

"If you go out with me, I’ll do my best to make every wish of yours come true"

"Go out with me" "for a hundred bucks" *pulls out a hundred bucks*

"Let’s stop pretending we don’t have feelings for each other"

Nsfw Dialogue Sentence Prompts

"You know I like it when you’re on your knees"

"Either I join you, or I watch you"

"We shouldn’t be doing this! Especially since—" "Shh, we’re going to get caught, I suggest you keep those moans inside"

"Stop biting your lip, that’s my role"

"I’ll give you the best night ever, if you make me feel good"

"Were you— touching yourself just now?"

"Once I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to walk tomorrow"

"I’m going to make you forget [name]"

"You like that? Good, now put on a show"

"I can hear your moans from inside the bathroom"

"Awe, I guess you’re really cute when you’re senseless"

"Stop! Please," "Please, what? Please you, prince/princess/your highness?"

"If you keep making those fake moans, In just about a minute we’re going to hear some real ones"

[frevandrest]

Apologies if this is a somewhat irritating or strange question,but you think the claims of Robespierre opposing the abolition of slavery hold any weight? I've been attempting to research this myself and I often encounter information that seems contradictory in regards to both possibilities.

There are people who researched this in more detail and provided receipts. I believe @lanterne wrote about it?

Robespierre was pro abolition of slavery. As early as 1791, when many were "but oh no, if we abolish slavery, our economy will suffer! The colonies will be ruined!", Robespierre was like "then let them be ruined. Slavery is wrong and should not exist."

It is true though that the French government took its sweet time getting to the abolition of the slavery. It happened in february 1794, and only after the people of Haiti (Saint-Domingue) liberated themselves (or was at least clear that the slave uprising was successful). So they could have done it sooner, especially since the Convention was, nominally at least, all against slavery and pro abolition.

As I understand, the whole "Robespierre was against the abolition of the slavery" was due to an agent from Saint-Domingue (himself black or mixed) claiming that the abolition should not happen at that moment? So deputies (including Robespierre) took his word and acted on it, except that was a plant by the anti-abolition crowd and they later realized? I am not sure. Like I said, I am not an expert on what happened, but I know there was a stalling due to some misinformation.

If anyone knows more, please share! There were numerous posts about this exact thing with receipts but I can't remember what was said exactly and I can't find any of them.

[strxnged]

TIGHNARI: # the roots of ambition.

CHAPTER IV. In which Tighnari saves your life, and you make an important discovery.

Word count. 2.3k. Genre. Found family, gn!reader.

Table of Contents. / Final chapter.

Tighnari had no intention of taking the search party with him to save you. He’d been there when the two of you processed the results of the previous study; following your disappearance, it hadn’t taken him long to ascertain your plan. He wasn’t about to go in without a safety net prepared, however.

“If I find them,” he told the Forest Rangers he'd arranged for help, “wait for my signal before you retrieve us from the Withering Zone. Don’t put yourselves in danger to help me save them.”

It was clear—too clear—that you meant to study healthy saplings in mycelium affected by The Withering. It was so obvious that Tighnari wanted to slap himself for not understanding sooner. With your research you hoped to find a treatment for Eleazar. You’d been pushing yourself to your limits to break through them. To save yourself, and everyone else affected, before it took you, too. He’d been so blind even to your Eleazar at first—it took the sight of your clumsy, paled fingertips before he had realized your condition. Even after you began to exhibit abnormal fatigue, he let you lie to him. Archons, he should have been more protective, but he knew it was against his nature to tend to someone that much. Perhaps he’d already done so—perhaps he’d scared you off with his watchful eyes. Yet he could not help that. He cared, and he was not going to altogether hide that for your comfort. Especially not now.

The closest Withering Zone, Tighnari saw, was too close to Gandharva Ville for comfort. After he inspected the area, he returned to his group. “Flag this area as a priority. I’ll come back here to deal with it once we get things straightened out.”

He searched the next Withering Zone to no avail, and rejuvenated with his group before continuing to the next area. Archons, if he felt this drained after a few minutes in a Withering Zone, he couldn’t imagine your state…

They travelled on. Withering Zone after Withering Zone, he listened, smelled, and watched for traces of you. He knew he would find you if he kept looking. But his own physical resources had been depleted by the end of the day, and if he went into another Withering Zone it would not be so easy for him to come out again. The party set up camp.

In the first Withering Zone they came to the next morning, Tighnari saw a dull figure knelt near the tumour. He could not get closer, however, as Ruin creatures began to attack him.

“Scorching Ajilenakh!” he hissed as The Withering mounted its draining effect on his body. He fired his bow at the monsters, managing to weaken their attacks as he led them away from you.

Quickly his stamina decreased, and with a hesitant glance at you, he lunged out of the Withering Zone to recover. The monsters followed him, but it was easier to slay them here. “This better be the last of you brutes.”

Launching the last of his attacks, he took a deep breath and dashed past their bodies into the center of the area. Yes, there you were. Still kneeling, unmoving.

“Snakes and boars, Y/N, please don’t be dead.”

He knelt next to you and grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were wide, reacting slowly to his presence. He felt for a pulse, noticing how your arms had been invaded by the stone-like disease. But your eyes were alive. You were alive.

In front of you, he saw an array of sickly saplings which mimicked your atrophy. 

Without a moment’s delay, he pulled your arms over his shoulders and hoisted you onto his back, trudging out of the Withering Zone with hardly a breath to spare to whistle for the search party.

|

⸙

|

“You’re going to do what?!” Sage Naphis’s jaw clenched as he berated you. “I can’t begin to understand why you think that you could detect reliable data, much less how you think you could survive that! Don’t be reckless. I will be getting in touch with the rest of the Amurta faculty so that they also withdraw support from this proposal. This is a terrible idea. Irresponsible. Have you learned nothing from the Akademiya about ethical methodology?”

You shrugged, slumping in your chair. The plants in his office were lively and undisciplined, vines roaming the walls and leaves coating the floor. You wondered about the species of the orchid on the windowsill.

“I can’t support this proposal. If you go through with this, you will be relieved from your status as a researcher.”

You sighed. “Not if death claims me first,” you muttered.

“Y/N. You can’t throw away what time you have left.” The sage leaned forward and peered at you over his large spectacles. “I understand where you’re coming from, but there’s no logical reason to throw your life away for something like this. Give it more time. I’m sure you can study this without needing to spend so much time in a Withering Zone.”

It was a Vanda falcata on the windowsill. It liked full sunlight, and you recalled that it enjoyed several types of mycorrhizal fungi associations throughout its development.

“With all due respect,” you said, eyes still on the V. falcata, “sitting back and waiting for other researchers to fix me is throwing my life away, sir. None of the other researchers endure the same urgency as me.”

“Then, you must at least modify your methods. I’m not trying to stop you from studying The Withering. I require you, by all observed guidelines, to be safe and rational.”

The Withering, festering deeply and wholly in your body, was never safe and rational. Why shouldn’t you step up to its game?

|

⸙

|

The first thing you saw was the forest.

You woke in not a medicinal hut or bed, but under a travel tarp with only a slight cushion beneath your head. You squinted at the sun slipping through the branches. What had happened?

Oh, you remembered. Tighnari had come for you, ignoring your wishes. Despite the fact that you knew he had likely saved you from immediate death, you wanted to give him a piece of mind. Wherever he was. You tried to sit up.

“Y/N! Thank the gods, you’re awake!” 

Collei’s voice broke through your blind rage and you fell back. You were wrought with exhaustion. Your body was so weighed down you could hardly feel it. It was like all your appendages were still asleep.

“Collei,” you choked out. Your throat felt dry, lungs tight. 

“Don’t try to talk. I’m supposed to give you this when you wake up.” She helped you sit up with much effort and carefully handed you a cloudy tea-like liquid. “Master sent someone to tell us what happened and I came here to take care of you. You almost died! Master…” she lowered her volume, “seems so on edge today. I think he might be a little upset.” She resumed at a normal volume. “He’s busy dealing with something in the Withering Zone. When he comes back, don’t take anything he says too hard. He’s just worried about you, I think.”

Collei continued to chatter. You weren’t sure she knew exactly what was going on, but neither did you, you supposed. Either way, it was a bit much for you in your state, but you were grateful you weren’t left to your own thoughts.

At last you heard Tighnari approach. You weren’t exactly sure how you knew it was him, since you were still mostly immobile and couldn’t see more than the treetops above you. Something about his manner of walking, you guessed, was unmistakable.

Tighnari addressed Collei. “How are they?”

“They’re awake, Master!”

He knelt next to you and you stared up at him. You weren’t sure what expression to make, but you felt your mouth curl up in a sort of grimace. Tighnari’s brows scrunched, lips pressed together, and breaths hitched. 

“Good,” he said quietly.

He felt your forehead for a fever, tested your pulse, your blood pressure, your reflexes, your pupils, your sites of infection. “Spread is receding…” he muttered, but then hesitated. 

Tighnari took your now fully greyed hand. You couldn’t feel his touch at all. It was like he was holding another person’s hand that extended from your body. The fingers were tightly curled, grasping something. One by one, he gently pried the fingers open.

In the palm of the hand was a Dendro Vision.

Your Dendro Vision.

You’d heard stories of individuals receiving visions from time to time. You never expected—considered that it could happen to you. Collei was the first person with Eleazar you’d met with a vision, and you’d assumed she was the exception.

“Tighnari,” you rasped.

“Y/N,” he responded in awe.

Blessed in your curse. Protected by those you wanted to protect. Pursuit of life through the quickening of death. You stared at each other in silence for some time, soaking it in.

“I have to tell you something,” he said. “That may help you understand how this may have come about.”

You stared at him expectantly.

“The saplings… The rate at which the Withered mycelium formed a connection with them was rapid. By the time I was able to test their chemical content, they had nearly been sucked dry. The Withering affected them as if they had grown from the soil itself. This confirms the connection to Irminsul, the nature of The Withering, the reason we can’t eliminate the disease. It’s Irminsul itself that’s infected. It’s the roots of the Earth. There’s something deeper going on, and you just confirmed it.”

You let go a puff of air, a wave of relief washing over you.

“And could mean so much for future research. It’s revolutionary.”

“You continued my research?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t just let your mad-scientist behaviour amount to nothing.” With narrowed eyes, he continued. “I can’t believe you would just run off like that. You knew I’d try to convince you out of it—of course I would have! How incredibly reckless of you to put yourself in that situation with your condition! I would have killed you if you’d died. You absolute nimrod!” 

You only smiled.

“Don’t give me that, moron. I’m so mad I could chew an Athel tree.”

The passion in the Forest Watcher’s voice and eyes only filled you with further relief. “Thank you. For saving me. And tell Collei thank you, too.”

“I will alert the rest of the Forest Rangers that looked for you that you are grateful to them and owe them a favour, too.”

“Did you really band together half the Forest Rangers?”

“Of course I did. Rule one, no going off on your own. Akademiya didn’t teach that in my day, either, but it’s a rule to live by.”

“But I’ve been going off on my own my whole life.”

“Yeah, and thanks to us, that won’t be your final sentiment. Learn to accept help, Y/N.” He looked at your legs and his tone cut from reproaching to tender. “I’m sorry, but you might need more of it from now on.”

Oh.

“Are my legs…”

“I’m so sorry. While you were in the Withering Zone, the Eleazar spread much more rapidly, and I don’t think this Nilotpala tea is going to substantially treat the infected areas. We can only do our best to sustain the rest of your body and pursue further research. You’ll need to commission a wheelchair from a carpenter in Sumeru City.”

“And my hands?” You tried to move them, to some avail, though you managed to drop your Vision onto your abdomen as you tried to curl your fingers around it again.

“Not entirely useless. You’ll be able to push and pull.” He looked regretful. “I’m not sure if you’ll regain full feeling. We can hope.”

You awkwardly rested your hand on your abdomen, trying to get a grip on the Vision. 

Tighnari saw this and quickly undid one of his belts. “We can use this as a sash for you. Let me help you sit up.”

As he did so, you understood the true extent of the Eleazar’s spread. Your lower back felt weak and uncomfortable, and below your waist, you had almost no feeling. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk, and even sitting up was a balancing act. Tighnari tied the Vision to the belt and 

“I’ll make sure to get it back to you.”

Tighnari’s eyes widened. “No, you won’t. This is yours now.”

You shook your head. “I can’t take anything else from you. You’ve done everything for me, and I haven’t returned the favour at all.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been helping us out around Gandharva Ville. You’re doing incredibly important research but you don’t act like those insufferable scholars who act like they’re the gods’ gift to the world. I care about you, and I want to help you any way I can.”

“But you don’t treat me like the others.”

He paused, brushing some hair out of your face. “Am I mistaken to imagine I can call you my friend?”

Your eyes fell. How had you gotten yourself in this mess so quickly? How had you let someone get close enough to care? He was close enough to you that when you died, he…

“Your hesitance isn’t enough to dissuade me. You should know this by now.”

“So I’m just stuck with you?”

“Me, and the rest of the Forest Rangers. You can’t just waste away in the city. You won’t.”

No, he was right. You wouldn’t waste away at the Akademiya any longer. But before you could spend the rest of your days in the rejuvenating aura of the rainforest, you had one more thing to do.

Table of Contents.

[skayafair]

The thing about Hilbert that doesn't let me move on from this character is The Uselessness/Pointlessness and everything it brings into the picture. Because it was his end, but it also became the center idea of his character somehow? It ties everything into a whole and it's devastating.

Because he made his research or, rather, his aim to create The Cure (pure hubris if you ask me, how bad should one have it to actually believe... goodness gracious) the only thing that mattered. Hilbert discarded everything - his name, his life, his own affections (because as I've noticed on the relisten, to my surprise, he stated that he was actually very fond of the 1st Hephaestus crew more than once, and he obviously respects Eiffel at the very least), his morals (which he still very much has but deems irrelevant unless there's actually room for moral principles to be applied without becoming an obstacle to the research, like belatedly getting Eiffel's consent for the tests), - all in the name of success and saving humanity.

And yet, all of this was for nothing. His virus didn't work despite all the deaths he wanted to justify by succeeding. Instead of creating an ultimate cure he created an ultimate weapon potent enough to threaten an alien civilization on an entirely different level, able to wipe out all the humanity in record time. This is the opposite of what he was pursuing, the opposite of his whole life and its meaning. Like... it's hard to imagine a failure worse than that.

This alone would have probably be enough to keep me stuck for weeks - I mean, what a cruel irony, right?

But what has me hooked even more is the fact that even with all this in mind, I can't say his life or Hilbert himself are pointless or useless. Because even despite his failure at what he deemed to be the only important thing, he still made an impact. People who were supposed to hate him for all he's done were mourning losing him - not too deeply, or it wasn't shown, - and yet Lovelace came to respect him, in a way, and care a bit before his death, and it was him who Minkowski had an imaginary conversation with when having a hard time. Eiffel insisted on having a proper funeral for everyone lost even when Hera was opposed to including Hilbert in it.

It's another layer of irony that the actual impact, his actual legacy he's remembered by turned out to be what he didn't pay much mind to - just... his day to day life and personality.

I know a lot of people are afraid to disappear without a trace, without leaving some noticeable impact on this world. I don't understand this fear on a personal level (please, we'll all be forgotten sooner or later, like millions before us, and the humanity in whole doesn't matter on a cosmic scale), but this is another reason why Hilbert stands out to me. He failed spectacularly in his sole aim he sacrificed everything to, made a lot of people suffer and die, and yet there was a trace left, one he didn't even think and probably didn't know about. You just never know. It's just... no matter how worthless one may feel, they may still be remembered by something good, completely unaware of this. Isn't it reassuring?

[mcflymemes]

ASSASSIN'S CREED III PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the video game, adjust as necessary

we never took them seriously. maybe we should have.

i'm getting ahead of myself.

we've been fighting them for thousands of years.

i've seen the truth.

it holds the power to change everything.

there's only so much we can do.

if we can't find a way to stop it, these next few weeks will probably be our last.

it worked. we think. we hope.

we're here. let's go.

you must find the key.

here we go again.

do you hear us?

you collapsed and entered into a fugue state.

you weren't in any danger.

i know what i'm looking for, by the way. it's a key.

i'd like to run a couple of quick tests.

have you seen it before?

my father brought me here as a child.

on to business then.

the stairs are watched. you'll need to find another way up.

you should have come to me.

for what it's worth, i'm sorry.

that's why we've called you here.

i am yours to command.

well, then i'd best be on my way.

my research has been stolen. without it, i'm of no use to you.

i'll see if i can't speed things up.

we need to find a way inside.

i believe i've found the solution to our problem.

we'll attack on my signal.

i made a promise to you, [name], one i intend to keep.

the sooner we're done, the sooner we can get out of this cold.

it does not engender peace to cut your way to resolution.

if we applied the sword more liberally and more often, the world would be a better place than it is today.

now i've upheld my part of the bargain, i expect that you will honor yours?

you seem disappointed.

you have shown me great kindness, [name]. thank you.

really? that's your response? it's like dealing with a six year old.

i sense my words cause pain.

do you even know what that symbol represents?

come on. i've got something to show you.

very well. i'll train you.

you're also going to need a new name.

what's true and what is aren't always the same.

you'll be happy to hear there's actually good news for once.

it's silly for us to go back and forth like this.

we cannot give up our home.

do you have a name? do you know who is responsible?

time will tell if you speak the truth.

why are you here? has something happened?

you should have heeded my warning.

perhaps you'll respond better to the sword.

are you threatening us?

i thought it might bring clarity or instill a sense of accomplishment. but all i feel is regret.

such sacrifices must never come lightly.

all of them must be dealt with in turn.

you speak the words, but do you believe them?

takes a true monster to do something like this.

every day i wait, more will suffer.

many who should've died today now live because of you.

we do the best we can with what we've got.

you wield your blade like a man, but your mouth like a child.

there are more important things at stake here.

i do what is right. no more. no less.

i don't even see a stall in here. what if i had to take a dump?

please just mute the microphone if you do.

life is not a fairy tale, and there are no happy endings.

in your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it!

our interests are aligned.

perhaps some time together might do us good.

i can kill you now if you prefer.

would you like me to come along and hold your hand, perhaps?

why the change of heart? where is this coming from?

you oppose tyranny. injustice. these are just symptoms. their true cause is human weakness.

you have said so much... but you have shown me nothing.

tell me of your latest exploits.

you have not come this far to throw it all away over misplaced sentiment.

there is nothing more to discuss.

i should have stayed.

now you must hide it.

what once was shall be again.