#since in many cases i don't know the answers to your questions yet

[allbridgesburn]

I am absolutely loving ‘all your wasteland flowers’ and I am so looking forward to where it’s going. I love all the characterizations and I love the smut. Married life for them is going to be interesting for sure. I am curious about a few things.

Does Mallory know Coriolanus is her father or is that going to be a talk that comes later?

Who was that couple that Coriolanus went to talk to at the wedding? Will we be seeing more of them? Are they the Plinths? It will be interesting to see Lucy Gray’s reaction if they are.

Also, I’m guessing Coriolanus has babies on the brain and he wants more sooner rather than later. Excited to see where it all goes. I love your writing!

Thank you!! It makes me so happy that people are actually invested in this little fic, I never expected such a response..... I'm cryin a little with each comment ngl what a life!

But I can't say anything!! I'm sorry! Obviously. You'd hate me if I spoiled everything with a tumblr post, I'm sure 🤣

I can say, at least, that yes, it was the Plinths. He knew she'd get ballistic if she found out that he's getting cosy and sponsored by the parents of the best friend he got killed so-- good thinking on his part I guess! But can he keep this secret for long? Wouldn't count on it! xoxo

[chaoticwriting]

Fenton Crime Family

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Stephanie: So no one is gonna ask why Cass has been out so much lately? Alone too.

Duke: Didn't she say she is going out to meet a friend?

Stephanie: Yeah, but no one knows where she goes. We don't know who she goes out with nor do we know where she goes.

Tim: Just say that you are jealous that Cass is going out without you. No will make fun of you.

Jason & Duke: That's a lie.

Tim: Yeah, that's a lie. I would totally make fun of you.

Stephanie: Shut up nerd. Don't pretend you are not jealous when Bernard or Conner says that they are hanging out with someone else.

Tim: Woah there. Jason is the nerd one. If you want to insult me, at least use the correct one.

Jason: I want to be mad but you're not wrong.

Damian: Tt, why should we bother who Cain goes out with? It is her choice who she wishes to be her companion.

Stephanie: But aren't you curious even a little bit? Who is the person? Where do they go? Are they friends or something more? There are so many questions and yet so little answer.

Bruce: We should give Cass some room for herself. Letting her form a relationship outside of this household is also good.

Everyone: *Stares at Bruce*

Jason: I think the old man is being mind controlled. Let me punch him to wake him up.

Dick: Are you sick, B? Do you want to go to Dr. Leslie? I can take over your patrol tonight if you are not feeling well.

Damian: I also agree with Todd. Father might be compromised right now. Let's take him down.

Tim: Wait wait. Do you have anything to say before we jump you Bruce?

Bruce: *Grunts* I went to meet the therapist that Jason recommended to me. Dr. Fenton says that I should give my children room to grow independently so that I can take the first step in treating my paranoia.

Jason: *Gasp* You actually went to meet the therapist. Fuck.

Stephanie: He he he, where is my 50 bucks? I told you he would go if you recommend it.

Jason: *Grumble while handing out 50 bucks*

Duke: So that's where you are going. I thought you were going on a date.

Bruce: I am too old for dating anymore.

Dick: Yeah, right. Tell that to me when you go meet Selina later tonight.

Bruce: *Grunts*

Alfred: *Walks in* I am here to inform that Miss Cassandra has returned.

Dick: She's not gonna eat lunch?

Alfred: Miss Cassandra has informed me that she has eaten outside with her friend.

Jason: Did you see who her friend is? Is it a boy or a girl? Please tell me it's a boy.

Alfred: I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything as per my agreement with Miss Cassandra. What I can tell you though is that she is very happy to meet her friend. I suggest all of you don't disturb her happiness.

Stephanie: What? Boooo. I want answers. Timothy I choose you. Go find the answer using your stalker skills.

Tim: I would rather not anger her after what she did last time. All of my coffee mugs are still stuck on the table.

Duke: *Scoffs* You would probably go behind her back to find this friend anyway. You're just saying it in case Cass heard us.

Tim: I shall not confirm nor deny the accusation.

-Upstairs-

Cass lays on her bed after changing her clothes. It's been so long since she saw Danny. If not for the coincidental encounter at the stores, she wouldn't have known that Danny is in Gotham. After the first encounter, they exchanged phone numbers and talks and even met up often. Today is their first official date as a girlfriend/boyfriend.

Cass takes her phone to text Danny that she has reached home safely when she suddenly remembers something. She opens her gallery and puts the photos of her and Danny in a secure secret folder so that no one can find it.

While doing that, a text comes through.

Danny 💕💓💕

Danny: Hey Cass, are you home yet?

Cass: Yes. I just got home.

Danny: Thanks for the date today

Cass: 💖💖

Cass: Are you home yet?

Danny: Almost

Danny: Sorry gotta go. My sister is calling.

Cass: Get home fast. Love you 😘

Danny: I love you too 💖

Cass puts the phone on the bed and closes her eyes. Soon, she falls asleep and dreams of living in a large house with a lot of children running around.

-The Bowery, Gotham-

A young skinny man with black hair and blue eyes is walking down the quite alley slowly. He looks around him as the people of the Bowery look almost respectful but certainly fearful to him.

He sighs and leaves the sprawled bodies on the ground. They wouldn't die. He makes sure of that. A huge man comes within his proximity when suddenly the man bows down to him.

????: We are sorry, sir. These people are a new gang in the rise from the east. We get the news too late to send people to dispose of them.

Danny: Chill out, Jeff. Just take them to Dani and let her handle it. Also, tell her to return before dinner or else Jazz will come for her.

Jeff: Yes, sir.

The man along with a few of his henchmen pick the bodies and move them to somewhere else. To be honest, Jazz and Danny still don't know how to feel that their little sister is officially a crime lord.

All of them moved last month since Jazz gets her job at Arkham Asylum and Danny gets his internship at Wayne Enterprise. Dani tags along since she has explored all the places she wants to visit and she doesn't know what else to do.

Well that also didn't last long, as the first day they arrived at Gotham, Dani goes to beat up all the gang and goons in The Bowery and round them up into one single group. It's certainly easier that all the rouges are in Arkham right now.

One time the Falcon crime family tried to threaten Dani by taking Danny and Jazz hostage. In the end, Falcon and other crime families agree to stay out of The Bowery after Danny freezes all of their building and Dani strikes them with lightning multiple times.

Danny arrives home and sits on the couch. He scrolls Twitter while waiting for his sisters to return when the news catches his eyes.

Breakout at Arkham Asylum

All the people of Gotham are suggested to stay inside tonight.

Danny looks at the news with concern. Usually a breakout at Arkham happens a lot later in the day. He stands up, picks a leather jacket and a mask and then transforms into Phantom. He wears the mask and the jacket and flies towards Arkham Asylum to check out what happened. Today is Saturday so Jazz isn't working so he doesn't worry that much about Jazz.

On his way to Arkham, he encounters some rouge like The Riddler and Scarecrow. He knocks them out and hangs them on a poll and continues flying towards it. He's not a hero anymore but if the rogues are to enter and cause havoc in The Bowery, neither him, Jazz nor Ellie will be happy.

Suddenly, he sees a clown car speeding through the road at a very fast speed. Danny looks at it and sees the Joker along with his few goons are making a getaway while being chased down by a few cop cars. Danny flies down towards the clown car, and slowly unscrews the tyres of the car.

Danny flies back a little bit to the back and the clown car starts to wiggle and waggle and suddenly all of the tyres come off the car. Danny can hear the clown cursing heavily until finally they crash into a poll.He flies back down and just to make sure he is permanently down or at least down for some time, snap his back bone to incapacitate him.

Danny, still invisible, flies back up and continues on his way to Arkham. He meets a few more escapees like Mr. Freeze, Firefly and Killer Croc. Except for Killer Croc, all the other rouges are beaten up and sent back to Arkham. Killer Croc or Waylon is not thinking of causing trouble. He just wants to return to the sewer cause it is his home. Danny plans to maybe offer Waylon employment in their gang if he feels like Waylon is stable enough to work. Meanwhile, he will go around the city and beat up rogues that he is pretty sure is not going out to have a tea party.

When Danny lands on the roof, he opens his phone to see Cass is warning him to stay at home and not go outside. He smiles wryly since he is already outside and is beating up the rouges. Danny replies with a thumbs up and is about to continue flying when a shadow jumps out from behind him.

Danny: Uh, hello? How are you?

???: *Stares*

Danny: I'm no trouble. Just on the lookout just in case there is a rouge nearby. I see some guy beat up Scarecrow and The Riddler on my way here. They are not so scary when they don't have anything to use you know.

???: Where?

Danny: Errr, I think it is right over there. I was coming from that direction so you would probably see them if you go this way.

???: Thank you.

The shadow then vanishes and Danny is left standing there. The shadow really reminded him of Cass for some reason. Looking up online, apparently that one is called Black Bat.

Danny: Huh, they are out early today then. I guess they can work during the day.

Danny then turns invisible and returns back to the Bowery because most of the notorious rogues have been captured and Danny isn't worried about the rest.

Part 2

[animeyanderelover]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day! Can you write about the topic you wrote in this link for Muzan meruem chrollo and sukuna? Good afternoon!

The link being referred to is this one if anyone is curious.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, controlling behavior, manipulation, blackmailing, isolation, violence

Tags: @jamayah @leveyani @chxxz @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @lovley-valentine7

S/o is a time and world traveler

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖​An ardent reader of humanity, Chrollo takes an interest in you early on as he notices you during one of his stays in a city he plans to raid with his Phantom Troupe. There is information to be gathered from him and as he schemes and manipulates to achieve what he needs, you stumble upon him. New to town with wide eyes brimming with curiosity, the type of innocent that someone like him should stay away from. Yet somehow he is unable to shake the feeling off that to you there is more than meets the eye. It’s a suspicion he is unable to shake off as Chrollo has certainly a good read on humanity. So why does he feel like there is something special about you? With the time he still has left before the coup, Chrollo decides to indulge in his peaked interest and approaches you one day in town. Offering you to show you around the city works wonderfully to get you to open up to him as you accept his offer eagerly. The answers you give him are vague though, your true home a mystery. Chrollo always seeks answers though so the lack of information from your side only serves to fuel that urge to find out what it is that has his attention so stuck on you. Whatever it is you are keeping, he needs to find it out.

📖​Initially it's his charm he uses in hopes of coaxing you into opening up to him. It has worked on a lot of unassuming people before yet on you it doesn't. It's hard to get you to open up and whilst others might find this infuriating, Chrollo finds himself enjoying the challenge. He's come to like you over the last few weeks that he has gotten to know you. Something within that innocent curiosity attracts him especially since it is coupled with an unusual amount of knowledge and wisdom that not many within your age possess. It is such an unusual combination as wisdom always comes with pain yet you have kept your liveliness alive nonthelesss. He wants to know how you have done this and why as well. As you don't respond to his attempts, Chrollo sees himself with no other choice but to use a Nen ability on you. He introduces you to his friends, all under disguise, and asks Pakunoda in particular to question you about your origins and use her powers to get the answers. Only for her to report back to him later on that she was unable to use her skills on you. Once again Chrollo finds himself denied of a knowledge he wishes to obtain yet the more it is kept away from him, the more he desires it, desires you.

📖​Nen, the very ability that makes many people as fearful and strong as they are, doesn't touch you. After Pakunoda's report he decides to try to use some abilities out of his book to see if you respond to any of them yet he receives the same results as Pakunoda. Nen doesn't respond to you and you don't respond to Nen. The very power of this earth can't touch you mentally and in cases not even physically. This leads Chrollo after many hours of pondering to a theory that only ensures his further downfall into obsession. If Nen does not respond to you then perhaps that hints at the fact that you aren't from this world. An anomaly if he has to name it, something that shouldn't be within this world and yet still is. Answers have to be obtained and he has to resort to methods and substances that can and will work on you. He drugs you and restrains you, uses your inebriated mind to slowly and patiently pull all the answers out of you without putting a single scratch on you. He bemourns that he can't have a conversation with you at your fullest abilities but he fears that otherwise you might escape his grasp. Your ability is something he cannot steal so he has to find other ways to keep you by his side.

Meruem

👑​For you it is a very unfortunate happening of being at the right place at the wrong time. Your plans originally only involved exploring the very kingdom where Meruem and the Chimera Ants have settled down yet you don't know about that until a few foot soldiers attack you. There is little to no choice for you but defend yourself though you do not kill them. Perhaps that was your one fatal mistake as they quickly report the accident to one of the royal servants who in return reports it to Meruem himself. The slight rousing of curiosity is not enough for him to take matters in his own hands though as he simply tells one of his servants to capture you and to deliver you to him as he may get stronger by eating you. All search is quickly solved as you decide to turn up right at the palace's doorsteps yourself. It's your curiosity of the species of the Chimera Ants that has led you to this place and you are immediately brought to Meruem. His boredom outweights his interest yet he decides to entertain you as he asks you to name a reason why he shouldn't behead you and devour you within the next second. What you offer him though in return for staying within this palace is knowledge. Knowledge which you have a lot of.

👑​You bring with you complex board games which do not exist within this world as victories go back and forth between Meruem and you. Whenever he wins, there is no feeling of satisfaction as everything is always cutting too close for him to confidently believe that he is genuinely better than you. The conversations between the both of you prove to equally as entertaining as your answers are thought through and always deeply sophisticated. You do not shake whilst in his presence like normal humans nor are you as blindly loyal as his royal servants. Meruem finds himself appreciating this as he continues his conversations with you and keeps you alive whilst you get to find out more about his species. It's Shaiapouf who brings him the news of the weird discoveries that he has made whilst going through your stuff, his distrust for you too deep as he views you as a threat to the king. A part of Meruem wishes to kill the servant for that breach of orders but the information that Shaiapouf brings with him makes him still valuable enough. Diaries he has stolen from you and devices which do not exist within this world, maps of strange worlds and sketches of inhumane creatures.

👑​Shaiapouf offers to use his Nen abilities on you to force you to talk but he is crashed through the next wall as he makes such a brazen suggestion to Meruem's face. Instead the king seeks you out himself to confront you about the things that he has found out just now. He wishes for transparency as he has given you the freedom to satiate your curiosity. It is only fair that he gets to do the same with his own interest. Surprisingly enough you do not protest much and decide to answer him all the question that he wishes to have answered. The answers you give him are as intriguing as they are worrying him. What you hold makes you worth more than treasure as your knowledge, powers as well as your immunity against Nen make you very strong. Yet Meruem realises that you have no intention to stay in this world where he exists forever as you plan to move on as soon as you have achieved what you came here for. A scenario which he cannot let happen as he has grown far too attached to you. A King needs a worthy partner by his side. You will be that person who will stand next to him as he conquers new territory. Meruem won't settle for anything less than you. You will be kept.

Kibutsuji Muzan

🩸​Muzan's one fatal weakness is to underestimate humans. He seems himself as something above death, above humanity. After all he has almost reached the perfection that he wishes for yet it is a tiny life of a flower which he is missing in order to walk under the sun. For a millenium already he has been searching for the Spider Lily yet not a single demon that he has created has been able to deliver him the flowers. You happen to catch his attention through the talks of the people within the city he is currently residing within. You've just recently appeared within town and happen to have an interest for botany. With you you have brought exotic plants no one in Japan has seen before as you do not come from this country. Immediately you have Muzan's attention as with your arrival he suddenly sees a chance that you might have the very thing that he so desperately is searching for. He takes things into his own hands as he pays you a little visit under the disguise of being a human who wishes to get to know you, the new person in town. You happen to have opened a small shop selling flowers and trees. What he needs he doesn't find there yet he still asks you if you know where to find the Spider Lily.

🩸​The brief flash of recognition within your face as he speaks the name almost elicits glee within him. So you do know. A good thing rarely comes without bad news though which is exactly what happens when you inform him that you do know where they grow but that they do not grow here. It's only natural for him to assume that you mean that they don't grow within Japan but another country, a hindrance that he believes he can conquer though. After all now he knows that what he is searching for exists. He wishes for your help as you are the expert yet you sense that there is something very malicious behind those red eyes and deny him. A fatal mistake which you would have paid dearly if you would have been just a normal human. You aren't though and as Muzan sends at night a demon out to capture you and deliver you to him, he finds out about that too. You possess abilities which he is not familiar with as you are no Demon Slayer. Is there another organisation out there with people who possess powers similar to you? Will they be a threat for him? It's always only about his own life yet all the answers he needs are within you and unfortunately he can't catch you.

🩸​He breaks into your house after having ensured that you will be out at night as he lets some of his demons loose to keep you busy all whilst he goes through your stuff. By the time you return he has almost pieced the truth together. The moment you step inside he attacks you and knocks you out before you can try to do anything to escape into a dimension which he can't follow you to. Your obedience he cannot gain through the usual means but his answers he will get. He needs to have you. You are far too valuable to escape from his grasp. After all now he finally understands what you have meant. The Spider Lily grows in another dimension which you have already travelled too. All he needs is for you to take him with you to that dimension so that he can collect the cure needed for him to walk under the sun again and then he can finally reach the perfection that he has always desired. You are far from done even though. You are a limitless potential which Muzan can use for his own gain. You should be honored, you know? After all he intends to keep you alive and by his side as not a mere pawn but as a precious pet which he will cherish. After all biologically he can still transform you into a demon.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾​Truth be told, Sukuna and you know each other. As someone able to travel through not only dimensions but also to arrive in different dynasties it is unsurprising that you can appear over a millenium within the same world after having already visited during the reign of Sukuna's rule in the past. However, you are no prophet and for that you are not aware that the King of Curses has already spawned within the new time and age and is currently locked away within a boy named Itadori Yuji. You just happen to meet the boy during your trip through modern day Tokyo without any clue of what monster he is keeping within him for now. Whilst you don't see Sukuna though, Sukuna senses you whilst sealed away within the boy. It's almost nostalgic to know that you are still out there, one of two faces of a glorious time which has long passed. However, he is not as sentimental as to let himself get carried away by one very important fact. You shouldn't be alive anymore. It's been over a 1000 years since him and you have faced each other and as far as Sukuna knows you were nothing but a itty bitty human back then which he could have easily devoured. Things are about to get interesting, aren't they?

🗾​He orders Uraume to keep an eye on you whilst he is plotting to break free. What he needs is a vessel and not a cage. As soon as he has found a new body strong enough to serve as a vessel for him he intends to find you and figure out how you are still alive and no day older than the last time that he has met you. Though you are still unaware of Sukuna, you sense that there is something watching you. Uraume is after all a tangible body within this world unlike many of the little and weak curses scattered throughout a city as large and densely populated as Tokyo. You are oblivious to the curses around you and they cannot latch on to you and feed from your emotions either as you are intangible to them. All of this nothing but observations that prove to fuel Sukuna's fascination the moment he has finally found a useful vessel in which he can reside in and have full control over. A grin spreads on his face as he listens to Uraume's report during the time they have observed you. It seems like there is more to you now than what he was able to see back in the days. It's time for a long overdue visit where the two of you catch up with each other. No lies, please. After all he is your oldest acquaintance.

🗾​He's flattered to see that you haven't forgotten him either if your expression of mild terror is anything to go by. Sukuna makes himself comfortable within the place you are staying at as if he owns the place. The cocky grin doesn't leave his face once as he invites you to sit down and expresses his wish to merely talk with an old friend. You cautiously sit down after a few seconds as your curiosity ultimately wins you over as well as your own confidence that he won't be able to kill you as easily as he could have done when the both of you first met. After all you have gained a lot of experience and control since then. Something that Sukuna notices as well. You've matured in a lot of ways and he actually compliments you for it. Still, he has found out that there is a world of curses out there which you cannot perceive and you yourself aren't aware of it. That's the bait that he uses in order to get you to reveal to him how you can still be alive after all this time as he would kill any other sorcerer you might seek out in order to receive your answers. Oh, if he would have known about all of this a thousand years ago he would have taken you long ago. Perhaps he'll enjoy the challenge now that you're stronger and wiser though.

[kewrnage]

high infidelity

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ✶ ─── sylus had taught you to protect yourself from the things in the world, even from himself. that leads you questioning, doubting him.

pairings. sylus x fem! reader.

genre. sfw. angst. bad ending. surprise ending. bittersweet ending.

t. warnings. female reader. intelligent/smart reader. cheating. reader is not mc. slightly rushed ending. based on the card, night of secrecy. references to other cards like; abyssal mark and abyssal blossom. mephisto is our buddy, periodt. mystery ml in the ending.

word count. 5.3k

noir’s memoir. i’ve finally outdone my procrastination in writing, whoa. this is such a feat for my indecisive ass to stick to one idea. non mc reader because life with no drama in fiction is boringg. also tried to make sylus as annoying as possible 🙈

— plus, can my socmed feeds shut the fuck up with the night of secrecy card content because i feel like i just had a divorce with sylus, like the hell did i do to y'all?? 😭 jk. but i had to quit the game because i have no commitment to gacha games but enjoys being enraged in league lol.

— but i might open it again in summer after uni. 😩 your compliments and criticisms are appreciated tho! <3

— tagged y'all! in case i missed yours, pm me and i'll write your username on the tag list. pls don't hesitate to approach me! 🙏🏻

"Do you love me?" You'd ask, the words a familiar melody between you, a question that whispered on the wind of your shared intimacy. Each time, it seemed to brush away the dust of doubt, leaving only a lingering warmth in its wake.

You'd feel his rough hand, calloused from battles, graze your skin, a silent affirmation of his devotion. He loved every inch of you, flaws and all, your beauty, a canvas he cherished, a masterpiece in his eyes.

His thumb traced a path across textures of your skin clears any hint of insecurity within you as he paid no mind in those details, a touch that also spoke volumes of his affection.

Love. Almost three years ago since you have felt the romantic one aside from your family and friends, is when you met Sylus. Not only have you experienced it, but you learned things that have never entered your mind before.

He taught you things you didn't know. Baking, a little bit of programming- it wasn't easy, but love has the power to turn surrenders into miracles.

You somehow one day learned how to program Mephisto, because that mechanical crow is one of the little things that are part of him- that also you insisted on him to advise you.

There were many more lessons, such as when his knuckles scooted forward into the wind with force, eventually meeting your palm as your fingers enclosing his hand and he smiled proudly, his eyes reflecting the joy of that moment of that spar.

Or when he had a way of dealing with your emotional outbursts. One brush of his hand soothes your seething ardor towards frustration.

He would tell you to breathe in and out, He'd whisper, "Breathe in, breathe out," his voice like a soothing balm. You learned, slowly but surely, to think before reacting, to find calm amidst the chaos. He was intimidating, his red eyes like a blood moon, yet he was an angel you could turn to for guidance, a safe haven where judgment never crossed his mind.

After all, love isn't just all about affection, it is a journey and a path to clarity.

He surprised you one day with a statement that chipped away at your unwavering admiration. "I needed to teach you to protect you," he said, his voice low and tender. "From many perils, sweetie. Even from myself." The words were unexpected, unsettling even.

He usually spoke with a sense of calm certainty, but there was a lingering smirk on his lips, a hint of longing that you couldn't quite comprehend. It was a longing that made you wonder what secrets lurked beneath his unwavering presence.

Yet lately, his answer to that question was, "Of course, sweetie." Was his response before he left you in your bed, for a business rendezvous, he said.

Just like countless other days. The words were there, but the tone of his voice was flat, the warmth missing. It was as if he was going through the motions, his answer a hollow echo of his usual sentiment. The unease gnawed at you. Was it your mind playing tricks, conjuring up worries where there were none? Perhaps.

But these feelings weren't fleeting moments of anxiety. They had settled deep within you, a persistent unease that had lingered for almost a month. Something had changed, you were sure of it.

The piles of unanswered calls and unread texts served as a constant reminder of his transformation, a stark contrast to the man you once knew. Each unanswered call, each unreturned message, confirmation that he had hidden agendas he's unable to tell you.

.

It was difficult to push him from your thoughts despite his growing distance, his newfound frigidity. He was the one who'd always been there for you, a constant in your life, a safe harbor amidst your storms. He'd made sure that your comfort zone wouldn't crumble, that the cracks in your facade wouldn't widen into gaping wounds.

He’d bandaged your anxieties, reassured you of his love, trying to make sure that your heart, so fragile, wouldn’t ever break. But now, with each passing day, those bandages seemed to be loosening, and the wounds that had been so meticulously concealed began to bleed through.

Love takes many forms, including distraction, not to be confused with destruction.

The unraveling of your comfort zone forced a forgotten lesson back to the forefront of your mind. You had to know the truth. It wasn't easy. The path ahead was bound to be rocky, riddled with doubts and uncertainties, but you had to find your way, even if it meant facing the inevitable verdict you so desperately hoped was false.

Love had a way of clouding judgment, blinding a person to the cracks that were beginning to appear. He thought that massive alterations to Mephisto would go unnoticed, but you noticed.

You noticed the crow's new commands were convoluted as you tried to decipher its new system, its obedience reserved only for its Onichynus master. It was as if he’d put two steps between you, but you weren't one to be outsmarted.

You saved up, pooling your resources, and bought two small, unobtrusive tracking devices. It was a small step, a ripple in a sea of uncertainty, but it was a step nonetheless.

You gambled one day, a desperate act fueled by an insatiable hunger for truth. It was a risky play, a leap of faith, but you had to know. You began to wrap a collar around Mephisto’s neck, the mechanical bird squawking and thrashing in protest, its wings a blur of metal and feathers.

It was a struggle, a desperate dance of resistance, but with the help of your faithful butler, you secured Mephisto in your grasp. You felt a pang of guilt, you'd grown fond of the bird, but the truth, the need for answers, outweighed your remorse, but you can barely handle Mephisto's saddened, quiet caws as he grew fond of you as well.

You didn't know what sorcery Mephisto can sometimes able to feel on his own, nonetheless, it was a sacrifice you had to make in the name of love and the pursuit of truth.

With the leash secured firmly to the edge of your desk, you plunged the room into dim light, a measure to protect the camera from unwanted attention. Then, you turned to your butler, a man of technical prowess, the one who’d always understood the intricacies of Mephisto’s mechanisms. With steady hands, he began the delicate process of disassembly.

With the practiced hands of a seasoned craftsman, your butler begins. The silver cog atop its head, a key to its mobility, must be carefully detached. The delicate wires leading from it, intricately woven like a spider's web, must be disconnected, halting the flow of energy that animates its movements and vision.

It had been some time since that night, yet the memory remained vivid, etched into your mind like a scar. Now, you sat on the couch, your limbs restless, unable to find solace in the familiar comfort of your home. Sylus's actions, his growing distance, his secretive behavior, all gnawed at your mind.

You weren't sure what to think. Mephisto rarely visited you anymore, but sometimes, in a fleeting glimpse of its little figure from the sky, you'd catch sight of him, the collar you’d placed around his neck gone.

You knew, somehow, that Sylus had removed it. The knowledge made your teeth clench. Your doubts grew stronger, fueled by the certainty that he was hiding something.

But luckily, your butler managed to insert the other small tracking device inside Mephisto when the crow was dissected- as you anticipated your lover's potential actions. It was cleverly disguised, blending seamlessly with the crow's black metallic interior, just in case Sylus was trying to take a glimpse inside as well.

He thought he'd completely erased any trace of your sleuthing, but you always had a backup plan. He'd underestimated you, perhaps a mistake born from teaching you to be just as sly as him.

You sighed, a breath of grim determination, and unlocked your phone once more. The map glowed with Mephisto's location, a bright red circle on a backdrop of digital darkness.

The tracker, a nigh-perfect beacon. Dread, anticipation, determination, and anxiety—a cocktail that made your steps wary, every step made you so hesitant. You raced out of your lavish house, into the night, and into your car, following Mephisto's trail, the glowing red circle leading you deeper into the mystery.

Your car zipped past the city lights, the rush of wind against your face a testament to your mounting impatience. You were close, the revelation looming like a storm cloud on the horizon. The building came into view: an architectural masterpiece, a testament to opulence as you parked— it could be Mephisto perched on here somewhere.

Those elegant golden lights illuminating its windows and intricate designs adorning its exterior. As you entered, the grandeur of the interior, even more breathtaking than its exterior, momentarily stole your breath.

But this was not a time for sightseeing, for reveling in luxurious aesthetics. You were here for a different kind of revelation, one that could shatter your world. And for that, you couldn’t afford to draw attention to yourself.

You braced yourself, put on a mask of composure before approaching the reception desk. You couldn't let anyone see the turmoil within, the fear, the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you. "May I ask something, ma'am?" you inquired, your voice attempting nonchalance, though its slight tremor betrayed your façade.

The receptionist, a charming woman with a smile that could lure you into a sales pitch, smiled warmly. "Yes, how may I help you, young lady?" she inquired, mistaking your bundle of nerves for being shy.

A wave of relief washed over you. "May I know if a man named Sylus is currently staying here?" you asked. It was a simple question, but it held the weight of your anxieties, the culmination of your fears and suspicions.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly as she noted the urgency in your voice. But she was a professional, and she quickly recovered, her smile returning. "One sec, miss," she chirped, leaning over the counter to slide open a drawer. She pulled out a logbook, its pages filled with names and dates, and began to search, her eyes scanning quickly for Sylus's name.

The receptionist's eyes scanned the logbook, her finger tracing the lines of names, dates, and numbers. Finally, her finger paused, a smile lighting up her face. "He's on the fifth floor, young lady," she said, her voice warm and helpful. "Room 506. You can find this person on one of the doors." She handed the duplicate of the room's key to you.

A shimmer of hope ignited within you. "Thank you so much," you murmured, your heart swelling with a rush of emotion.

You bowed to the reception desk, then, with a swift move, placed a small bill on the counter. The receptionist’s eyes widened in surprise. She had been happy to help, but this small token of appreciation was unexpected, a pleasant surprise. You couldn't have imagined a quicker, smoother retrieval of information.

The elevator hummed its silent ascent, a slow, steady climb that seemed to amplify your anxieties. The brief wave of relief you'd felt at the reception desk dissipated, replaced by a chilling dread. Each floor you passed seemed to deepen the shadows, casting a foreboding weight on your shoulders. As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the fifth floor corridor, your heart hammered in your chest.

You moved slowly, cautiously, until you reached the door you were seeking. An oblong golden plaque, embossed with the number 506, confirmed the location. You braced yourself, your fingers trembling as they reached for the knob as you unlocked it and hiding the key to your pocket, a silent twist that opened the door, a secret whisper in the symphony of this opulent space.

The once blurring luminescence of the white in seconds as you opened the door you take it in, blurring your irises in seconds until the path ahead becomes clearer. You take a silent stroll to mask your presence and make the dangers of the room unaware. You passed through a couch and several pieces of furniture until you stopped in front of a bed- but you kept your distance a few feet away.

The sight that greeted you made your anger and despair collide, a violent storm of emotions that weakened your legs, the blood draining from your face.

Sylus was there, sitting with his back to you, his arms wrapped around her, kissing each other comfortably, tongues grazing the other. The silky red sheets of the luxurious bed crinkled beneath their combined weight, and their bodies, slick with perspiration, were a testament to the hours they'd spent entwined.

His hand rested possessively on her ass, a lingering touch, while the other brushed the back of her thigh, a gesture that spoke volumes of their intimacy. You were certain, with sickening clarity, that they had been entwined for hours.

“Syl…?” You mumble as you try to lift your head up, loud enough for him to hear. But they were lost in their intimacy, a tableau of forbidden pleasure that made your stomach churn with a mixture of jealousy and disgust.

Both were so immersed into the rhythmic pulse of jazz music thrumming its spell over them, while their arms and legs waltz on each other's skins, your voice could barely register into the room especially to Sylus.

The only thing that broke the immersion was the sudden, urgent caw of Mephisto recognizing you. The mechanical crow, perched on the window sill, had spotted you, its red eyes fixed on your figure. Sylus's head snapped up, his eyes widening with a flicker of surprise.

“Sweetie,” he breathed, a lazy, affectionate drawl that grated on your nerves. He had the audacity to use that pet name, a term of endearment that had once held meaning for you, now laced with irony, a mocking echo of a past that felt worlds away. He was now aware of the storm brewing in your eyes, the silent rage that pulsed through your veins.

“Which one of us is that, Sylus?” You questioned. The tension in the room crackled, palpable, a force that seemed to draw every atom toward the heart of this forbidden encounter.

It was a tense standoff three-way, a collision of love, betrayal, and a simmering rage that threatened to boil over and tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Sylus remained unnervingly calm, a stillness that bordered on arrogance. As if this situation, this blatant betrayal, was simply another day at the office.

He sighed, a melodic exhale that seemed to underscore his control, and gently eased miss Hunter down beside him. His hand remained intertwined with hers, a possessive gesture, a subtle reminder of his power, his control over her.

You remembered how he once taught you to think before reacting. But this was not applicable to this unjustified situation.

Sylus’s smirk held a trace of begrudging admiration. “How did you find me here? I made sure you wouldn't have any traces of me in my devices,” he remarked, a subtle challenge laced within his words.

He was impressed, not by your intrusion, but by your proficiency, the sheer brilliance of your tracking skills as little to no criminals, compared to you, barely achieved this feat.

The shock was evident in his eyes, a hint of something akin to awe, but he covered it with a façade of casual admiration. "You're two steps ahead of me huh,” he conceded, a grudging acknowledgment of your resourcefulness. “I should have known.” He tried to inject a false, affectionate tone into his words, but it was a poor attempt to disguise his unease. “you're indeed amazing for that. I'll give you the credit, sweetie.”

You surged forward with no explanation for that matter, fueled by a cocktail of anger and betrayal. You lunged, your palm connecting with his cheek with a resounding slap. The force of the blow sent a wave of shock through him, a crimson flush blooming across his cheek.

"Bastard!" you screamed, your voice raw with fury. "You betrayed me! How could you do this to me, after everything?"

Mephisto, sensing the eruption of emotions, flew out the window. The mechanical crow, a silent witness to your heartbreak, had sensed the shift in the atmosphere and retreated, leaving you in this charged space.

Sylus's hand flew to his cheek, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he felt the sting of your blow. He looked up at you, your eyes burning with a heat that threatened to consume him. He saw the inferno of pain, the charred remnants of your trust smoldering within them.

But he reacted with an unsettling calm. As if your fury was but a minor inconvenience.

"What happened to you?" His gaze, unwavering, held a glimmer of something akin to amusement. "I made you a strong woman and you're supposed to react like one." he had a small but bitter chuckle.

You stood there, face to face with him, the raw fury in your heart threatening to spill over. His figure, once a beacon of comfort, now seemed tainted, sinful in its betrayal. His calm, his audacity, ignited a fresh fire in your soul.

"Is this..." you began, your voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak, "Is this...what you meant when you taught me to protect myself from things… including yourself?" You finally completed your sentence, but the struggle to get there was visceral, an agonizing process of grappling with the raw truth.

"Sweetie," he purred, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness, even as his hand remained possessively intertwined with his mistress's. He raised his head, meeting your gaze with a calm that bordered on a disturbing indifference. His casualness, his ability to betray you with such ease, was both maddening and bewildering.

"Yes," he said, his voice smooth and steady, "I needed you to know how to protect you from myself."

The words struck you like a blow. You were grasping for some semblance of logic, some explanation, some shred of comfort. But the situation was too complex, a tangle of emotions that defied reason.

How could this man, the man who had shaped your world, the man you had believed loved you, be capable of such a betrayal? You knew, you felt, you were certain that he loved you. His teachings, his unwavering support, they had all felt so heartfelt.

Sylus saw the whirlwind of emotions in your eyes, a mix of confusion, disbelief, and hurt. This was not the reaction he had anticipated, a vulnerability that made him feel a twinge of guilt, a brief flicker of mercy.

He took a deep breath, his voice tinged with a mixture of sincerity and uncertainty. "I'm going to be honest, sweetie." He averted his gaze, the weight of his confession a heavy burden. He wasn't a coward, he would always tell you the truth, just as he had taught you to embrace even the most uncomfortable truths.

"I have loved you," he confessed, his voice low and remorseful. "But you need to know, that this woman," he gestured towards the woman beside him, "is the one I love the most. Ever since… Eons ago, as a dragon, she has been with me. Even in the moment of my death," he finished, his voice trailing off.

The revelation struck you with the force of a thunderbolt. The anger, the hurt, the realization that you were, in fact, the other woman—it all washed over you, drowning you in a sea of despair.

This woman, this woman who had been with him for eons, their story, their world, had existed long before you, before your love, before your dreams. You were the one who had been tricked, the one who had been used, the one who had been left behind in the wake of their enduring love.

He turned away from you, his gaze settling on the woman beside him. She seemed flustered, embarrassed by the messy scene they had created, and you felt a wave of pity wash over you. You, too, were a victim in this twisted game of love and betrayal.

Sylus looked at her with an adoring gaze, the same affection he had once showered upon you. It was a sight that stabbed at your heart, a reminder of the love you thought you had shared, now gone, swept away by the tides of time and a love that had existed long before you.

"I remember, clear as day," he continued, his voice smooth, his gaze turning back to you, "Our adventures in Tarus City. The very first mark I placed on her skin." He was painting their courtship, a romanticized narrative that painted a vivid picture of their shared history. He was trying to make sense of it, to justify it—but it was hard for you to listen.

Each detail he shared—the caved city of treasures, the gold that glittered everywhere, how he'd held her waist with his dragon tail, the playful way he snaked up behind her to mark her neck—they were all memories you desperately wished were yours.

He continued,  "And when I laid on the field of crimson flowers, it was the only special place I would let her know and stay and she was on top of me..." It was a scene straight out of a fairytale, a love story that had begun eons ago,  a love that transcended time and death. And you were the outsider, the one who had been fooled, the one who had been left behind.

"In the moment of my death," he said, his voice laced with a profound sadness yet a sense of serenity. "She cursed me before my once more waking life, that I could never die again. I could only disappear in her will and her hands." He says, explaining the curse that the female hunter embedded onto her.

His words, laced with an undeniable truth,  were crushing. You could feel your own heart breaking into a million pieces. You were not part of their story, their love, their world. You were simply a footnote, a brief interlude in a grand romance that had begun before time had even begun.

"I thought I moved on," he admitted,  a trace of guilt in his voice. "But when I felt her newfound presence being around this world,  I couldn't abandon my true love.  It was a promise we made to each other, sweetie."  He was trying to make sense of it all,  to explain it. But it was too late.  The damage was done. His words were like daggers, twisting and turning inside of you.

"Did you think for a second that you used me!?" You choked out the words, your voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.  The realization hit you like a tidal wave—you weren't just the other woman, you were a pawn in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

"I didn't— but it is my responsibility..  to make amends. But you already know who I chose." Sylus replied, with a calmness that enraged you further. His response, devoid of remorse, was a slap in the face of the earth in yours.

You could no longer hold back the torrent of emotion, of hurt, and humiliation.  Tears streamed down your face. "You used me!" you cried,  your voice hoarse from anguish. You raised your hand, a fierce anger fueling your movement, and slapped him again.

This time, the force of your blow was fueled by the crushing weight of your shattered heart. Your slap resonated with the quiet despair that echoed through the room.

He remained silent, his face stoic, his eyes filled with a grim understanding of the wreckage he had created. He didn't flinch from your blow, nor did he offer any further words of explanation. The silence that settled between you was a testament to the profound devastation he had caused.

You knew then, with a terrible clarity, that you had been a mere chess piece in a game of love, passion, and betrayal,  played by two souls bound by a love that had lasted eons. You had been seduced by his charm, his intelligence, his strength. But you had been blinded by your affection,  blinded by the illusion you had built around him.

"I trusted you…" You choked out the words, the realization of your betrayal heavy on your tongue and the tears breaking down from your etes.  You stumbled back, needing to escape the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.  Your hand flew to your chest, clutching at the wound of your broken heart. 

"I looked up to you— I loved you!" You felt your voice crack, the weight of your shattered dreams cascading down upon you. "Then you're just leaving me to dust because you found your ancient ex-girlfriend! To deal with this on my own! Do you know how much I told my parents and my friends your loyalty— and you pull this shit out to my face!" The words were a torrent of anger, frustration, and betrayal, pouring out of you like a tidal wave.

"Yes, sweetie, I appreciate all the things you've done for me, too," Sylus conceded, his voice laced with a hint of regret.  It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a glimpse into the man you had once loved. He sounded a little rueful too from his disheartening deed.

But even as he spoke, his hand remained entangled with Miss Hunter's hair now, a constant reminder of his choice, his loyalty to the love that had endured throughout eons.

"But I simply chose what my heart desires and whom it beats for," he continued, his voice a smooth, steady murmur.  His words were a testament to his resolute decision,  a confirmation of his commitment to the woman beside him on the bed.

"It may have skipped for you as well," he added,  a faint flicker of acknowledgement in his gaze. 

"But not in the leaps way beyond mountains she has over me. " His words held a subtle undercurrent of  pride, a hint of boasting,  a reminder that his love for Miss Hunter was a force that defied time. It was as if he was comparing the intensity of his love for you to the enduring passion he shared with Miss Hunter, suggesting that yours was fleeting, while hers was undeniable,   unwavering and endless.

Your back slammed against the ornate, velvet-covered wall and, sending a wave of pain through your body. The rustling of the fire in the chimney heightening the tension.

But right now, nothing can be compared to the crushing pain in your heart. The silence of this opulent room now echoed with the hollow emptiness you felt within. You were stranded, alone,  lost in the wreckage of a love you once believed in, a love that had been a lie.

You had nothing more to say. It was all so clear, so horrifyingly simple. The pieces clicked into place, revealing a picture of betrayal so complete.

You gritted your teeth, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I just hope you won't make attempts to appear in my life again," you said, your voice hoarse.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a ring, a symbol of the future you thought you were building together.  

The ring, a precious gem that once held so much promise, now felt like a poison in your hand.  With a final, desperate action, you flung the ring towards him, the metal clanging against the floor, the impact echoing the shattering of your heart.

"I'm sorry, y/n..." Sylus said, his voice tinged with regret. But it was a regret that felt hollow, a  mere echo of the love he had once professed. His actions spoke louder than any words he could utter, and it was clear that his remorse was only a shadow of the love he held for the woman beside him.

A fire ignited within you, a blaze of fury fueled by heartbreak. You pointed a finger at him, your voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "Fine! We're done, that's what I want too!" You shouted, your words a declaration of war against the man who had betrayed you,  the man you had once loved.

You left him there, the image of his betrayal seared into your soul. You stepped into the elevator, the metal walls closing in on you, pressing down on you like the crushing weight of grief. The silent hum of the elevator felt like a dirge, a mournful symphony for a love that had died.

The lobby with its bustling crowd felt like a blur. You walked past people who were happily chatting,  laughing,  living their lives as if nothing had happened. You felt like a ghost,  moving through a world that had suddenly lost all its color.  It was too much. The dam of your emotions finally broke.

You raced to your car, a blur of movement and tear-stained cheeks. Slumping into the driver's seat, you rested your forehead on the steering wheel,  your body racked by sobs.  It was a quiet grief, a silent scream trapped in a world that no longer made sense.

The barrage of missed calls and texts suddenly made sense to you. Each one, a silent echo of your foolish trust, now felt like a searing reminder of your heartbreak. You kept crying, the weight of your grief feeling like a boulder, a heavy strain on your shoulders. You longed to break free from the torrent of your emotions,  but it felt like you were drowning in them.

But eventually, exhausted from the relentless sobs, you slumped back against the driver's seat, your head resting against the headrest. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, a testament to the depth of your despair.

Then, you heard it. A gentle, unhappy caw. You recognized the distinctive sound, the crimson eyes that peered through the darkened window. It was Mephisto. You unlocked the car window, and he flew in, settling on your finger, his metallic eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“Oh, Mephisto..” You sighed as you stroked his smooth, metallic feathers. Something about his presence, his silent understanding, brought a flicker of warmth to your heart.

“You're such a good friend, you know that?” He cawed softly, and you smiled, the first genuine smile you'd managed since you found out the truth.  It was a small comfort, but right now, it was all you needed.

The fact that he was Sylus' mechanical crow didn't diminish your fondness for Mephisto.  He had become more than just a possession, more than just a tool. Mephisto, as of now, had become a quiet companion, a silent witness to your heartbreak, a source of comfort in a world that had suddenly felt cold and unforgiving.

Life, in its own strange way, had offered you a measure of mercy. You haven't crossed paths with Sylus, not in any of the unexpected places where ex-lovers tend to bump into each other. It was as if fate had conspired to keep you apart, allowing wounds to heal without the added pain of an unwelcome encounter.

Mephisto, somehow, became your regular visitor, a silent observer of your healing process. Sometimes he would arrive with a sense of frustration, his metal eyes flashing a bit brighter, likely due to some altercation with Miss Hunter. 

She probably had a beef with him for being a spy dog, a relic of Sylus' traces. But you always greeted him with a smile and a gentle stroke to his head, the quiet comfort of his presence a comforting touch on your bruised heart.

Time, as it often does, had begun to mend your broken heart. The sting of betrayal still lingered,  a faint echo of the pain you had endured.  But  you were moving forward,  finding solace in  new experiences,  new connections.

You found yourself at a museum,  a haven of quiet beauty and wonder.  You wandered through the halls,  admiring the exhibits,  until you stopped before an aquarium,  captivated by the vibrant underwater world.  A particular fish, a mesmerizing glow emanating from its scales, caught your eye.   You pressed your hand against the glass,  intrigued by the creature’s hypnotic beauty.

"You seem to like that one too, miss? You have good taste,"  a voice said behind you.

You turned,  your heart skipping a beat as you met the gaze of a beautiful stranger.  His soft features had a hint of rebellion,  his  short, wavy indigo hair adding a touch of  charm. He  was  classically handsome,  dressed in  a  crisp white polo with  slightly puffy sleeves that  accentuated his physique,  and a glittering golden necklace adding a hint of  elegance. 

His smile was warm and inviting, and his gaze held a genuine interest. The  initial  hesitation you felt quickly melted away as you found yourself drawn to his charm and  ease. He spoke about the fish, sharing his  expertise, his passion for aquatic life filling  his voice.   

It made you giggle and discovered a shared love for the beauty and complexity of nature, and you found yourself laughing, sharing  stories, and  discovering a connection that  surprised  you.

Your banter with the mysterious man continued, a delightful mix of shared laughter and playful teasing. His initial charm was quickly evident, his playful teasing a welcome change from the dull routine of your days.

He was passionate about aquatic life, but he could be a bit pouty when you touched on sensitive topics. When you mentioned the idea of catching fish from the ocean to sell, he became visibly deflated and pouted a bit at you.

"Oh, please, you can't be serious?" he asked, a snarky tone creeping into his voice.

"It's not right to take creatures from their home just to line your pockets. The ocean is a sacred place, a source of life, and we need to protect it, not exploit it. It's not just about the fish, it's about the whole ecosystem," He defended and you only shrugged just to get him riled up again. Although he did have a point.

Somewhere in the throngs of visitors,  you  failed to notice a familiar pair of crimson eyes. Sylus, he was with his woman as usual, his presence a dark shadow casting  a  subtle regret across his handsome features, had witnessed  this brand new you.

tags. @yukithestar @babygirl-panda19 @rainkissedberries @aetherscribit @athanasia-day

[2kyo7]

♱ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ♱ | SOLEIL

pairing ; adrian tepes , trevor belmont , sypha belnades x female reader

ཐི ➥ summary ; As the world begins to pay the toll of Dracula's rage, four unlikely heroes must band together and defeat him--no matter the price.

warnings ; swearing

word count ; 1.5k

notes ; hopefully the dialogue reads accurate to how the characters actually talk in the series😓😓. Lmk what u guys think!!

ONCE LEAVING ALUCARD's TOMB Sypha wished her people many sorrowful goodbyes, watching for the first time as they traveled somewhere she could not. Soon they themselves would too depart from Gresit and in turn leave for west where their destination rested in between the territories of both OTTOMAN and BOSNIA.

Admittedly the journey was...unfavorable to say the least, paths were thick with snow and ice—turning their fires into signals for enemies which hid in the cover of night. Conversation was admirable, but only when Trevor and Alucard were not knee deep in conflict (which happened more often than not).

After yet another disagreement, Sypha attempted to lighten the atmosphere with questions. "Soooo Savior, how exactly do you know of this true blood? And how are you so sure they'll help us?" He released a drawn sigh and look towards the pile of burning wood before him, "we aren't exactly going to meet just one pure blooded vampire—this is a family of them."

Trevor was quick to sit up in protest, but Alucard held out a hand, almost pleading with the man to stay silent for just a moment. "They are family friends... or once were, before my father had a falling out with the family's head." His face became tense with focus as if it was painful to recall such years ago. "The fight wasn't anything extravagant or gruesome—pure bloods' consider themselves above such 'unnecessary brutality' in their words, but we've never spoken another word to each other since."

Alucard clenched his fist in frustration, to keep himself from saying the unthinkable. "Anyhow, they won't slaughter us when we step onto their doorstep if that's what you're thinking, by the time we get there they'll probably be full off lunch." Sypha huffed before crossing one arm over the other.

"You never answered my second question, are you so sure they'll help us—pure blooded vampires are still vampires nonetheless." Alucard placed a hand between his brows where a wrinkle formed, "I'm not."

"Oh bloody Christ almighty!" Trevor held quiet for long as he knew how, now standing from his icy snow bed he threw his arms high in the air. "We're out here in fucking god knows where about to walk into the god forbidden den of an apex predator! JUST MY LUCK!" Alucard scoffed at what he could only describe as a tantrum, "we need a true blood Belmont, whether you soil over yourself at the thought or not. Now as I've said, it's possible they'll refuse to join us, but in any case they won't kill us. That I'm sure enough of."

"Trevor you quite literally kill vampires for a living, how much different can these pure bloods be?" Sypha shrugged her shoulders in confusion, not exactly exhilarated by the idea of the human race depending on the choice of a single unworldly being. "Oh! I don't know speaker, maybe because they're a 100 times faster, stronger, not to mention smarter then your average run-of-the-mill vamps."

"Like I've said time again, there will be no fight."

"Sure, because we'll already be maggot food before we can get a single word out."

And here they go again, Sypha watched them bicker like children over the last slice of bread—how much longer will she have to put up with this? The more they fought, the angrier she became until eventually water appeared from thin air to slightly soak the two. "What in heaven's name?"—"What the hell!" They shout in union, "Enough! Both of you! We have a long journey ahead and none of your childish yelling will get us there any quicker."

With that concluded the conversation for the night's entirety, Sypha slept soundly knowing there wouldn't be any interrupting noise while Trevor nearly froze to death, his lifeline, the glowing fire in front of him. Though Alucard had his fill on slumber, this wouldn't be of any use as he too clung tight to any of the warmth provided to him that unfortunate night.

After nearly a week of tireless walking during the day while constantly having to fight off hoards of unearthly creatures at night, the trip was proving quite testing. But there efforts were not in vain, finally they'd made it, relishing in their success as a great wooden sign nailed neatly onto high gates read: Welcome to LAVATRIS—population 4,500.

Before they even attempted to make their presence known a man rose from above the gate's entrance, his appearance was a bit disheveled, he had been dressed much too casually to be an official guard of any sort. "State your names and business with Lavatris." His voice was monotone, like he was bored beyond comparison. The three of them looked around to another for a moment, "Ahem. We are stopping by for some shelter...we've been walking for a many days and are terribly exhausted."

The guard stared down upon them with a look of doubt, but prying any further might've killed him. So with a wave of his hand the gates rumbled loudly against ground flooring, opening up just enough for the three of them to pass. "Don't cause any trouble or we'll kill the lot of you—blah blah blah." Once entering the gate began to close just as soon as it opened, "that was odd..to say the least."

"Didn't even matter what we woulda said to the fucker, what kind of security is that? I'll be surprised if this town wasn't a complete sh—" Trevor's assumptions had been cut short at the sight of the city. It's streets were bustling and busy, everywhere you looked had been a different story. People were smiling, playing, loving, exactly opposite of what they'd grown accustomed to in Gresit.

Walking along the streets they were in awe, music played on every corner, new smells of delicious foods anytime you turned, it's almost like they had been disconnected from what went on in the outside world. "The city's always been like this," Alucard spoke, a small grin protruding on his face. "These people have been protected by vampire royalty for generations, and in turn they are food pens."

"Tch like a dog on a leash." Trevor said through muffled anger, hands knee deep in his pockets as he looked around with disgust. "No like a fair trade. True bloods value status, and this proves it—having their meals ready to eat whenever they need, without the hunt? That's lavish living for any vampire." Alucard once again contradicts Trevor's statements with venom on his tongue.

"So these pure bloods don't hunt at all?" Sypha inquired, the happy aura becoming almost contagious as she too found herself smiling. "Not in this city, they travel to surrounding areas if they’re feeling extra peckish."'

Deeper they traverse into the city of Lavatris each part being as lively as the rest. "For heaven's sake I need a drink." Trevor dashed towards the ale vendor, slamming down about three gold coins onto the wooden surface below. "Can't you wait a moment's more? Their home is just through this passing."

"Alucard's right Trevor," she snatched the currency in her hands before the vendor could collect, sending them an apologetic look. "The fate of humanity is resting on our shoulders, and all you can think of is a drink?"

He groaned, appearing as if he would combust at any moment now, mumbling beneath his breath: "At the very least wanted a cold one before I died."

They would begin to walk up a steep hill overrun with large trees the size of mountains that have long since lost their coverage caused by the unforgiving winter season. As they continue to march forwards, a dark grand castle begun to shown through, easily seen in deep contrast with the bright evening sky and nature's frosty white blanket. Breathtaking was one word to describe it upon many others.

When approaching, they were met by two towering iron doors that appeared almost implausible to push open on their own intent. Alucard stood in between both Sypha and Trevor, stepping up further than either of his comrades, knuckles raised and ready for impact. "Before we enter, both of you must remember. True bloods aren't like regular vampires, they are not driven by the need for food or power. Instead pleasure and entertainment."

"Just open the godforsaken door." Trevor began to stretch past Alucard, but before he could make contact the doors slowly unfurl revealing only unending darkness inside, ancient gears turned from within while the density of the doors weighted against the marble floors.

Everyone looked to each other, a silent uncertainty weighing heavy on their minds. Alucard was first to ascend further, the others following soon after, and once everyone had gathered entirely inside—the doors swiftly closed shut, a loud BANG promptly following suit—trapping them helplessly inside.

"WHO DARES ENTER MY FORTRESS!"

[ssahotchnerr]

how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333

celebrated

happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k

about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.

it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.

it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.

it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.

"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.

aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."

you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"

"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."

you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"

"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."

"oh."

"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."

"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."

as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.

once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"

aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.

but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"

"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."

you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"

"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"

"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."

"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"

"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."

"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."

you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.

aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."

"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"

"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."

"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."

a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.

it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.

aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."

"honey-"

"please. say it."

nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.

he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."

"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."

"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."

aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."

you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."

you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.

"babe?"

"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."

your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."

one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."

"i love you."

aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.

"i know."

[alchemistc]

(dys)functional | bucktommy 1/1

an: the hockey au keeps growing, have some tommy whump in the meantime

read on ao3

"Hey," Tommy says, rolling the word over his tongue, letting the door close behind him and leaning his head back against it as it goes. Evan glances up, and immediately sets the knife in his hands down, expression going concerned the moment he sees the look on Tommy's face.

"Uh wha - what's wrong?"

The concern in his voice is ratcheted up in a way Tommy doesn't quite understand - he knows the look on his face is a little resigned but Evan looks stressed. "I'm gonna have to reschedule our weekend," he tells him, already shifting away from the door, moving in, chasing after the distressed little tilt of Evan's head, completely incapable of not trying to fix it even though his mind is going in about fifty different directions, right now.

Around the corner of the island, into Evan's space, and Evan melts just enough for Tommy to get his hands around Evan's hips. "Is everything okay?"

Tommy grimaces. "Not - not really, no. I've got to catch a flight in about six hours."

Evan goes stiff under his hands. "O-okay."

There's an art to fully grasping his tone, in these moments. He's - not an easy read, exactly, because his default seems to always be doing a terrible job of hiding whatever it is he's feeling, but that doesn't actually mean he's not masking the actual issue. It's confusion, mostly, maybe a little bit of hurt, a quiet sense of foreboding in his expression as he leans back to get a good look at Tommy's face, like he's searching for an answer for a question he doesn't know if he's allowed to ask.

Evan shifts impatiently, stormy expression clearing up. "Can - do you need to -" He makes a face Tommy knows is aimed at himself, a little recrimination for not being able to gather up the proper words in the proper order. He pulls in a deep breath. "Okay, so this is maybe too much to throw at you right now but those are kinda famous last words for me and I'm - will you tell me why so I'm not thinking up worst case scenarios here?"

Tommy slides in, fingers curling into the hem of Evan's shirt, gripping, tugging just enough that they both drift into one another. "It's my father." Brow furrowed, Evan nods, and waits, still rigid in the circle of Tommy's arms. And Tommy really does have to leave, soon, pack an overnight bag and try to get a couple hours of sleep before the slog to John Wayne, but he's a little concerned that leaving right now is going to send Evan into a tailspin. Thank God he'd decided to drive over first, tell him in person - he's missing a heap of context here but clearly a phone call would have been the wrong move. "He's - I have to..."

Evan knows the basics, bare minimum shit because Tommy hates acknowledging how much his father had fucked him up, how many years of therapy have been required to untangle the dad shaped knots in his brain.

"I don't really have all the details, yet, but my uncle called and I - I'm needed, apparently. I don't." Tommy has felt wrong-footed since the moment the name flashed across his phone screen, he doesn't talk to them, to any of them, and now his uncle has given him a vague 'Tom you need to come home, it's your pop' and his sister isn't answering her messages. Tommy takes a breath, realizes his hands have tightened into fists in the seams of Evan's shirt. "What do you mean famous last words?"

Evan is studying him carefully, elbows bowed behind him because he's got his palms curled around Tommy's fists, eyes shifting over Tommy's face, and Tommy knows he's seeing the shit Tommy likes to keep under lock and key. "It - it can wait. Tommy, do you need me to come with you?" Head tilted, gaze assessing, fingers shifting, soothing over the stretched tight skin of Tommy's knuckles.

It's too soon for that. He doesn't want Evan to see that part of him, the piece of the puzzle that Tommy has had to chip at, and shave and sand down to make fit, that ugly little part of his life he'd shed the day he'd set his house key on the dining room table and left for boot camp.

It's not too soon - he doesn't want Evan to ever see that.

He's also suddenly incredibly aware of how nice it would be to finally, finally have someone he knows is in his corner for whatever bullshit he's ten hours away from walking into. His grip loosens and Evan seizes the opportunity, awkwardly lacing his fingers through Tommy's. It's a weird angle, uncomfortable with the current positioning of their arms, but it feels a bit like a lifeline. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not. I'm offering."

There's a stubborn part of him that doesn't want to accept. He's kept his life out here so separate; even Sal, who'd kept all his other secrets for going on a decade, barely knows shit about his family. He has a good life, rich and fulfilling. Out here. He's got Evan, who'd do practically anything for his friends, his family. Tommy can't justify subjecting him to whatever garbage the Kinard's have going on three thousand miles across the country.

Evan tugs at his hands, shifting his weight enough to send Tommy stumbling half a step into him. Toe to toe, gazes catching again, because Evan is seeking him out, Tommy feels some of the weight lift off his shoulders.

"Okay."

It gives him the excuse of leaving as soon as possible, once he gets there, at the very least.

Evan nods. Whatever weird tension he'd been carrying ebbs from his shoulders and Tommy puts a pin in that - he's spiraling and upset but for a second Evan had been, too, and he needs to circle back to that when he can think straight.

He's got his phone out, free hand digging into Tommy's front pocket, and Tommy blinks, tries to think of something clever to say, something flirty and wry. They were supposed to go out tonight: dinner, maybe dancing, after, if Tommy could convince him. Then a three day stretch of matching days off - a drive up the coast, a little rental within walking distance of a beach, a seafood place that made a lobster roll almost as good as the ones up in Maine. He'd been contemplating whether or not it was too early to bring up Evan's lease.

Evan fishes Tommy's phone out and presses in his passcode without a second thought, and something eases in Tommy's chest. He trusts Evan. Has trusted him, consistently, unquestioningly - he'd given him his passcode on a whim when the screen went dark on it halfway through Evan adding his food to whatever they'd been in the middle of ordering in before Evan got derailed by a story about the anatomy of seahorses.

"Did you already book a flight?"

Tommy nods. Points out the Southwest icon he'd moved to his home screen for easy access.

He doesn't argue when Evan guides him around the island to one of the stools, there, fight and flight both losing out to freeze as Evan takes charge.

It's not their usual dynamic. Evan has been happy to set the pace, but once he takes his cues from him, Tommy's typically the one taking point. But Tommy feels unmoored, and it's nice, actually, to have Evan press a kiss to his temple, to pull up his flight information, to squeeze Tommy's shoulder as he books a second ticket on the credit card Tommy's really only let him use once or twice, happy to be seeing someone who will actually let him pay more than his fair share, who seems flattered that Tommy's always got his wallet out before Evan even thinks to reach for his.

Everything's a bit jumbled. He's halfway to Jersey already, maybe, pulled into the riptide and dashed against the rocks of Richard Kinard's bullshit, he doesn't even know why he's going, just that his uncle had told him he needed to come. He comes up for air feeling battered and bruised when Evan rubs a hand down his shoulder, over his arm, up again with harder pressure as his palm shifts down and over his spine.

Evan's face hovers close to his. "I'm just gonna call Bobby, and then we can pick up something to eat on the way over to your place." The upside to having something already planned is that Evan's already got a bag packed with everything he'll need to travel.

It sounds so simple, so effortless, and Tommy's throat feels tight when he swallows. He gets two fingers into Evan's belt loop before he can pull away, and Evan comes easily, stepping into the spread of Tommy's legs, forehead coming down the few inches to meet Tommy's. "You - thank you."

"Of course," Evan says, a little wry, an echo of Tommy's own favorite phrase whenever Evan gets a little caught up in the way Tommy keeps showing up for him. He gets it, now. It's been instinct, really, to be there when Evan asked, to try his damnedest to make it to the things he's promised to be there for - nothing particularly remarkable about it, in Tommy's mind, but Tommy's starting to see the larger picture. It's grounding, it's comforting, it is actually a little remarkable to be on the receiving end of it. It feels like devotion.

Tommy rolls his forehead, curls a hand up over Evan's shoulder, his neck, fingers catching in his hair, along the curl of his ear. When he blinks and meets Evan's gaze, there's something in his eyes that Tommy isn't sure either one of them is actually ready for, but then, they haven't really stumbled on their way through those things up to this point anyway. Blazed past them, maybe, but always with an understanding of what they mean while they waved at the mile marker blurring past them.

Evan squeezes at Tommy's knee. "I'm not going anywhere," he assures, and Tommy snorts.

"You're literally going to Jersey in, like, five and a half hours."

Evan huffs. "With you. I'm - you're ruining my moment, Tommy," he pouts, and if the both of them dissolve into a fit of giggles, no one has to know but them.

-----

Tommy hasn't been back here in eight years. It's been longer since he's talked to his family - he'd shown up fifteen minutes into his grandmother's funeral, slipped in to a pew at the back during mass and and skipped the wake before he found a bar and made a few bad decisions with a man who'd sat next to him four drinks in and smiled at him like the sun peeking through a billowing stormcap.

Evan presses a tentative hand to the small of Tommy's back and Tommy melts into it, pleased when the hand shifts to curl around his waist. He's apparently already rented a car, and Tommy can't quite hide the heavy sigh of gratitude at the admission - the getaway will be a lot smoother if they don't have to stand outside waiting for a ride.

He's seen Clipboard Buck in action before. The last time, he'd barely managed to get them somewhere private before he was on his knees to express his appreciation of Clipboard Buck. This is - not better, but different in a good way. It makes him feel tethered, reminds him that as crazy as it had been to accept an invitation to a wedding after a spectacular explosion of a first date, he'd been right to follow that spark he'd first felt on the tarmac while Evan Buckley shook his hand for about thirty seconds too long.

"I can help whoever's next," says a voice as Evan shuffles him along the rental line, and Tommy's gaze darts up, his posture sharpening.

Evelyn.

Christ, it's a day for reunions, Tommy guesses. They're next, actually, and Evan tilts his chin with narrowed eyes when Tommy sighs and moves to the counter.

For a second, Tommy's convinced she doesn't recognize him. She pops the gum in her mouth, bored gaze bouncing between them as Evan scrolls through his email for the confirmation number on his booking, and then her eyes go wide.

"Tom? Tom Kinard?"

Evan's eyes shift up. It's a lot more subtle than Tommy'd expected. So is the hand that squeezes at Tommy's hip in question.

Tommy curls his fingers around the hand, squeezes back. He's spent too many years on the other side of the closet door to go crawling back into the dark now.

"Hi Evie."

Tommy hasn't told this story, but he doubts Evan will be particularly surprised by it. He's heard about plenty of Tommy's other beards.

Her gaze shifts. From her spot behind the counter he doubts she's seeing much, but the anchor of Evan's arm around his waist has them sharing space, Tommy's shoulder pressed to Evan's chest, the two of them breathing the same air. Her brow ticks up behind her glasses. She's got a streak of grey along her temple, and the start of crows feet around her eyes.

Evelyn snaps her gum. "You missed the reunion," she notes, and then smiles. "Although I can't blame you if this is what you've got back at home. A large improvement on Jason Ledecky." She leans in. "He's got five kids and a truly tragic bald spot."

Evan's eyes gleam. Tommy realizes he's actually looking forward to telling this story, in the sanctuary of a rented car on the way to his uncles. Evelyn Carinni had been a godsend for a Tommy who'd shot up four inches and slimmed down over the summer after junior year -- she'd scooped him right up that first day of school when it became clear that a suddenly sharp jawline was all it took to garner the attention of the female population of Cliffside Park High, and the first time she'd whipped out her tits and seen the disinterested look on his face she'd made it her mission to make sure he made it through senior year undetected.

"You here about the will?"

Tommy pauses. "What will?"

Her eyeroll is exactly as disparaging as he remembers. "Christ, your family is a piece of work. According to Tina, who heard it from Daryl, Old Man Gio apparently had an updated will your dad tried to hide. There's been a whole lawsuit about getting it recognized."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Well, I imagine dear old granddad had a nice little end-of-life realization that the only descendant he had who didn't want any of his money was you, so as a last fuck you to all his ungrateful kids he left it all to you."

"There's no way any of that money hasn't been spent already." Not to mention he has no interest in some long drawn out court case where all his extended family has to admit they have no way to pay it back.

Evelyn hums. "A lot of it's been tied up for years. Plus there's the royalties his estate is still getting."

Tommy sighs. "My uncle made it seem like it was more serious than that."

"Is there anything more serious to them than who gets the lions share of daddy's money?" At Tommy's raised brow, she shakes her head. "Anyway, your pop might be looking at jail time, so there's always a possibility they're looking for preemptive bail money."

If he lets them, he'll tie up Evelyn for hours, standing here gossiping like teenagers. "We should have a reservation," Tommy tells her, before things get really off the rails, and they go through the motions of pulling up Evan's information. Evelyn pops her gum again.

"What a shame," she says, brow raised and eyes focused on Evan. "We promised you we had plenty of inventory in basic economy but it looks like those are all off the lot." Tommy watches Evan frown, eyes darting to the prices detailed behind her. Neither one of them is overly concerned about their savings account, at the moment, but Evan isn't fond of surprise price increases. He'd complained for a week the last time avocados had gone up thirty cents. "Looks like I'll just have to upgrade you free of charge, Mr. Buckley."

The clerk to her left shoots her an exasperated look and leaves it at that, but something happens in Evan's expression, the realization rolling over him that he's been included in some subterfuge. "Oh, well, if you have to," he says, but he's leaning his free arm against the counter now, posture open, happy to be included in this little bubble with someone who has loved and cared for Tommy. He knows the feeling -- knows how he'd had to take a deep breath at Chimney's bachelor party, when Eddie had glanced between them and implied that Evan inviting him to the karaoke bar was a date, remembers the way he'd had to dig his fingers into his thigh in the pocket of his pants to keep from being weird about how nice it was to laugh with Maddie Buckley-Han.

Evelyn chuckles, and smacks her gum, and the keys under her fingers clack away for a moment before she spins in her chair and marches off to grab something from the printer, and Evan hip checks Tommy with just enough force that Tommy sways, maybe a little overcome in the same way Tommy always is when Evan's friends, his family make it clear they like having Tommy around. He grins, and Tommy returns it, the edges of his smile bleeding into his cheeks.

Evelyn returns with contract for a sports car. "I waived the deposit fee," she intones. "For the inconvenience, sir."

Evan looks delighted as he signs off and Evelyn splits their copies. The sticky note affixed to Evan's copy has a phone number with a Jersey area code written on it, and she taps it.

"When you find out you're insanely rich and finally cut off the rest of your family completely, you two should take me out for coffee."

Evan isn't so caught up that he doesn't check in with Tommy first. It's not entirely necessary --he likes Evelyn, and Evan can clearly tell that -- but it's nice, all the same.

"How about a steak dinner," Tommy negotiates, and Evelyn's grin goes wide.

-----

As it turns out, Grandpa Gio was a petty little bastard with a penchant for dramatics, and according to a court of law his aunts and uncles (and father) owe him close to two million dollars, between them.

"I don't want it," Tommy confesses, laid out on the hotel bed that night, still too loose-limbed to move as Evan putters around in the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and brushing his teeth.

Evan looms over him a moment later, warm towel running over the ridges of Tommy's stomach, the rise of his pectorals. Christ, he'd shot off like a goddamn missile. Evan bites his lip to hide a grin when the towel catches on the underside of Tommy's chin.

"I'm assuming you're talking about the money," Evan says, folding the towel over itself to give him one last rubdown. "It seemed like you liked the sex."

Tommy shifts, tugging at Evan's wrist until he settles in beside Tommy. With the remains of his energy, he slings a leg over Evan's and rolls himself into the cradle of Evan's embrace. "That was never a question."

Evan maintains the silence for a grand total of thirty-seven seconds. It's longer than Tommy had expected. "So your family." Tommy hums, already tracing the edges of the tattoo on Evan's forearm. "Kind of dicks."

The snort of laughter settles into Evan's still-sweaty temples, and Tommy shifts to press his nose into the damp curls there. He'd been so hesitant to share this part of himself with Evan, but as always, Evan had forged on ahead like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than provide the landing spot for Tommy to settle down his gear once the storm passed.

"Took me twenty years and a boatload of therapy to train that out of me. I'm still --." Tommy pauses, the usual self-deprecating comment stuck on the tip of his tongue, because for once, it doesn't feel like an effort to be nothing like them. He'd spent so long hiding in the shadow of the asshole his family had taught him how to be, and dragging himself out into the sunlight always felt like a struggle.

But it hadn't felt like an effort, really -- to hold Evan's hand under the judgemental gaze of ten cousins and four aunts and uncles, to stand tall and stick to the barest edges of polite while the room erupted into chaos the moment his father opened his mouth to defend himself, to excuse himself and tuck his arm over Evan's shoulder on the way out the door.

He can still remember the dazed way Evan had responded to that first kiss, while Tommy busied himself tugging the hem of his shirt back down, too nervous to look at him while he asked him out. The way he'd looked, when Tommy'd been brave enough to glance up, eyes a little glazed, mouth still open, and told him he was free.

At the time, Tommy'd been furiously convincing himself not to lean in for another kiss, fully aware he'd make himself late to work if he allowed himself another taste, but the memory had lingered the rest of the shift. In the days after, once he'd had a clearer picture of exactly how wide he'd just blown open Evan's world, he'd thought of it often.

I am free.

Tommy turns his face to meet Evan's gaze, nose dragging across his cheek, lips aching to find a home against Evan's again, but he catches his eyes first, slides a hand up over Evan's arm, shoulder, neck, until he can curl his fingers over his jaw, thumb tucking in to the little dimple as Evan grins at him. "Thank you for coming."

Evan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the top one, a mischievous gleam in his eye, but he lets the dumb joke go, gaze shifting into something more serious as he drums his fingers along Tommy's bare hip. "Thanks for letting me," Evan murmurs back, and Tommy knows they need to talk about that sentiment in more detail, but for now he'd rather roll Evan on top of him and slide his tongue past the seam of Evan's lips.

Evan doesn't seem to have any complaints.

[docdudo]

I love your story abour Witches!AU. It’s refreshing to see a new side of witches AU where we can find familiars can force a bond on a yound witch. But I’m kinda curious on how familiars know who are witches or so? They can smell or feel? And do witches die? and when they die the bond between them and the familiars will be broken? Oh I have so many questions and looking forward for your next post soon.

Hi, thanks for liking the series!

So, yeah, witches and familiars can recognize each other (most of the time). Familiars have stronger instincts, so they find it easier to recognize who is a witch and who isn’t. However, it’s much harder to identify a witch who is still young and doesn’t have strong magic yet—it becomes more difficult to sense their magic core in that case.

The 141 only managed to sense your magic because they are ancient and powerful familiars. They are highly attuned to the magic around them and around others, which allowed them to identify you as a witchling pretty quickly, even though your magic core is still underdeveloped.

(Younger familiars and younger witches would probably struggle to recognize you as a witch.)

Familiars are usually easy to identify even without strong magical instincts, simply because they are so animalistic. The way they act and speak, especially with each other and with witches, makes it pretty clear that they are familiars. Except, of course, when they are purposefully trying to act human. Then, it becomes harder to tell if they’re familiars or not. More powerful witches would be able to recognize their magic, but younger witches would have a much harder time.

(But you don't have to worry about that, Familiars never bother to try and act anything other than what they are. Maybe just at their witch's orders).

For a more direct answer, Familiars who have been in this world for a long time can easily see, smell, and sense magic.

And yes, witches do die, but not of old age. That’s not something that happens to witches, as their bodies barely change after reaching maturity. However, they can die if someone kills them or if an accident occurs. Powerful witches from different Covens often kill each other for one reason or another. There are even Covens that become unbalanced, where members turn on each other.

There have also been cases of witches dying from heartbreak, losing their familiars, or losing other witches they were close to. It’s not unusual for witches to commit suicide if their witchlings dies.

Also, a bond is formed by linking compatible magic. By "compatible," this refers to the magic of a Witch and the magic of a Familiar. Familiars' bodies are made of magic since they are old nature spirits, so they bond directly with a witch’s magic core.

So yes, if the familiar somehow survives after their witch dies (in most cases, they die together in battle), the bond between them is broken and they turn into rogue familiars.

That's what the 141 were before they got you kkkkkkkkkk

This answer got long, but yeah, it's basically this kkkk

[hkthatgffan]

Hey! You seem like a huge *Gravity Falls* fan, so I was hoping you could answer some of my biggest questions about morality in the show. Since the release of *The Book of Bill* (which I’ve read), do you think Bill could ever be redeemed or seen sympathetically? Is there a possibility for him to get better and maybe even have a happy ending?

I ask this because I see a lot of fans saying, "He's awful," or "He deserves everything coming to him a thousandfold," and "Don't sympathize with him!" But then I watch the show, and I see characters like Gideon Gleeful and Robbie who were also problematic—they did terrible things but still got happy endings.

I know Gideon went to jail, but he broke out and ultimately had a positive resolution. Robbie, for example, tried to brainwash Wendy into a romantic relationship (which is super messed up!). Even though it didn’t work, and Wendy only dated him because she thought he wrote her that song, Robbie knew what the CD was supposed to do. But instead of facing real consequences, he just went through a breakup and still ended up with a happy ending, with friends and a new girlfriend.

As for Gideon, he tried to kill Dipper, manipulate Mabel, and invade the entire town’s privacy—basically doing some of the same things Bill did. Yet, after going to jail and making a last-minute turn toward good, he still got a happy ending.

So I’m super confused. What should I be feeling? Is there a correct way to view these characters? What do you think?

Bill at his core is the personification of denial. We see in the book that the harbours some regret and hatred for what he's done to the people around him but he refuses to try and take it to heart and use it as a point to grow from. I mean, look at what he did.

He killed his entire dimension and family and yet tries to deny it was anything bad and that in fact he liberated them. He manipulated and almost destroyed Ford and yet denies ruining the friendship they had. He tried to kill Dipper and Mabel and yet acts like it was nothing. Bill is unsympathetic. He's a narcissistic sociopath who doesn't wanna admit it.

The difference with Robbie and Gideon is that they changed and grew past their issues. Robbie tbh was more so being a literal teen drama story while Gideon was made that way through his exposure to Journal 2 and how that corrupted him. Once both found a new lease on life, they were able to grow and become better.

Bill is not that. He cannot accept that he's not fine and that he's the sole survivor of his kind and has pushed everyone he knew out of his life through his own actions. We've all probably dealt with people like Bill Cipher. Be it a person, co-worker, significant other, friend, family member, etc. We've all had that person who acts full of themselves and manipulatively but in reality is suffering. But because of how they act and their refusal to do anything, you start to lose any sympathy or interest in helping or being there and just let them go. Congrats...you just escaped a toxic relationship.

As someone who has dealt with Bill Ciphers in my life like many of us probably have, it's easy to feel sympathy for him. Bill make his case out as such that you wanna feel like he deserves better. But he's a trillion year old being that has been doing the same thing over and over again and refuses to make an effort to move on and let himself accept what he did to his dimension and to people around him like Ford.

Ford on the other hand realized that and cut Bill out of his life. He's doing better now because of that and has his family by his side. Ford is an example of how to move on from such toxic situations and people and find happiness in your life again after that. Bill is the example of what happens if you can't.

Life is short. We all will die one day. We all deserve to lead a life free of people like Bill Cipher in it. The best thing we can do is follow Ford and find the people in life that make us happy and let go of Bill.

So, to answer your question, NO!

I don't think Bill Cipher can be redeemed or seen in a sympathetic way. He tried to. But he's shown even in the Theraprism that he can't. He's doomed to live forever with the shit he's done. And it's his own fault.

Bill can say he's fine but in the end...he's not. And he never will be. There is no redemption for Bill Cipher.

[kaialone]

Official Guilty Gear Anthology- Short Story "Street Light" (English Translation)

This will be a full English translation of the short story "Street Light", written by プランナーM (Planner M)

It’s the fifth out of five short stories included in the "Official Guilty Gear Anthology", which was available online for a limited time only from April 1st to April 8th 2024, as part of April Fools’ Day celebrations.

--

Street Light

"ISN'T IT ABOUT CLOSING TIME?"

"Right, we're almost sold out. Could you clean up in the back today?"

"ALRIGHT. DON'T FORGET TO CALCULATE THE SALES."

How many months has it been since I came here?

To be honest, I did not expect to be accepted by this town as quickly as I was.

At times, my past actions still weigh heavily on my heart.

However, the townspeople's smiles, their words of gratitude—they never fail to soothe it.

And so, every passing day leaves me feeling happy and fulfilled.

Suddenly, the doorbell chimed.

I was certain I had just put up the "Closed" sign, but a customer might have overlooked it.

Regrettably, I would have to ask them to leave.

"Apologies, but we are closed for the-"

I fell silent the moment I turned to the door and saw the one who had just entered the shop.

"You're…"

A fearless expression lurking behind a pair of sunglasses.

A well-toned body showing from beneath a black coat.

In spite of the laid-back aura emanating from him, I could find no opening in his posture.

I know of only one man with such a presence.

"Is this that famous place where they got a handsome boy baking some really good bread?"

"…I don't have an answer to that question. But this is indeed a bakery."

Johnny, leader of a group of chivalrous bandits known as the Jellyfish Pirates.

Although we were loosely acquainted, I couldn't think of any reason why he would come to meet me in person like this.

And our acquaintance went back to my time as an assassin. Therefore, the situation was even more difficult for me to assess.

…Still, I had no reason to be discourteous towards him.

He at least showed no signs of hostility or nosiness.

"Your visit is appreciated, but we do not have any of our best-selling products left at this time of day. It would be preferable if you arrived before the sun has set."

"What're you talking about? If a handsome specimen of a man such as myself showed his face during prime time when all the ladies are out shopping, your business would go down the tubes."

"Huh…? Er, thank you for your consideration…"

I wasn't sure of his intentions, or what he was even talking about.

Nonetheless, I thanked him for his—in his own way—thoughtful words and actions.

"…Oh, I get it, you're a clueless fella… I can see how that'd make you popular."

He looked dumbfounded for a moment and began muttering something to himself, but soon directed his attention back to me.

"I know this is sudden, but I came over 'cause I got a personal question for you."

"For me?"

"Yep. After all, you're not just an up-and-coming young baker who suddenly showed up in town. You're also a hero who keeps an eye on the scoundrels and protects the town's peace."

How does he know about that…?

Although, thinking back, it was I who raised my voice in defiance towards those men in the alleyway. No one else.

I shouldn't wonder if word of said incident has since been spread by the elderly man who bore witness to it.

And in any case, considering the vast information network at his disposal, he may have sources I could not even guess at…

"So, here's my question—Are you willing to risk your life for this town?"

…Where was this going?

There was no need to think about it. The answer to his question was etched into every fiber of my being.

"What a foolish thing to ask. If it's for the sake of that which I must protect, I will gladly throw away my-"

"Now, hold up."

He cut me off with such a firm tone that my breath caught in my throat.

It wasn't aggressive or domineering. And yet, his voice shook me to my core.

He carried on like that.

"You wanna protect this town, right? But I'm sure there's more to it than the town itself."

"…That is correct. The people and the bonds between them. Their feelings, their hopes. I wish to protect the web of connections woven into this town to the best of my abilities."

All of this was true.

I doubt a man like him would assume I could speak these words without the determination they demanded.

"You know…"

Seeming almost in disbelief, he looked me straight in the eye while he spoke.

"You're a part of that web, too. 'Course, so's your friend in the back."

"���What?"

Indeed, there was no denying that the townspeople would support me every day. And as such, I may have been made a part of their web myself… Thinking about it, I suppose I did feel that way.

But to me, the most important thing of all was to protect this… That's why…

"You're looking kinda troubled there, son. That hard to take yourself into consideration? If you're not even aware of it, this might be a more deep-seated issue, huh…?"

I was at a loss for words. It might have been a harsh thing to say, but I knew full well that he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Here's the thing though—You and your friend are part of this town now. So, if you wanna protect this town, you know where the best place to start is, right?

"But I-!"

"No buts! Listen, I'm not one to just complain, so let me give you a little lesson."

He made a pistol shape with his hand, pointed it in my direction and solemnly continued.

"I know that you've been literally putting your life on the line for as long as you've had it. But from now on…"

He took off his sunglasses, piercing me with a stern glare.

"Never throw your life away. But do risk your life. That's the way a man's oughta fight."

He concluded with those words.

"…Well, I'm gonna be protecting all of the ladies myself. So you only gotta protect half the people."

I could have taken it as a flippant remark, but it didn't seem like a joke. The tension surrounding us just moments ago had completely dissipated.

I thought I had died as an assassin and then been reborn, but…

Contrary to my expectations, life in the sunlight doesn't always go as planned.

"Well, I gotta get going now. Bread's the best when it's freshly baked, so I'll ask someone in my crew to stop by while the sun's still up."

He put his sunglasses back on and turned to leave.

"In that case, let them know that we will give them a discount if they mention your name. Consider it payment for the lesson you just gave me."

"Whoa there, I wasn't gonna bug you about it or nothing."

He laughed with a shrug and made his way towards the exit, only to turn back around one more time.

"I appreciate it, though. Well then, see ya later."

"…I must also express my gratitude. Please visit us again."

I bowed deeply as I watched his figure slip outside.

"HEY! I'M ALMOST DONE OVER HERE! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!"

I could hear my friend call out from further inside, sounding impatient.

"Oh, my apologies. I'm sorry to ask, but could you help me out with this?"

"UGH, WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITH YOU…? I SWEAR, YOU BETTER OIL ME LATER!"

Everyday life resumed.

Everyday life… I, Venom, find it to be both difficult and invaluable.

Something I must protect above all else.

And I must be aware that I, too, have made myself a part of it.

However, I know there is no need for me to rush. For this is not something one can rush to obtain.

"I will… protect this town. As one of the people of this town."

--

[lovelynicho]

"In the blue of my oblivion"

*the title is a reference to Sullen girl by Fiona Apple

Pairing: bf!Nicholas x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Warning: heavy topics, mention of rape and trauma, read to own responsibility! ; not proofread

Wc: idk, my longest fic yet

Notes: I know this is a heavy topic but in my opinion this should be talked about as things like this happen to more people than some would think, way too many people; if you go through a hard time it's okay to talk about it, to ask for help, never forget that! ; english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes

Masterlist

Sometimes you still wonder how did you end up with Nicholas. Despite his intimidating, at times even scary appearance, he truly is the kindest soul you've ever met. It is beyond you how someone like him, who always catches everyone's attention, noticed you, who likes to stay in the shadows of others.

But what matters is that he noticed you, and liked you ever since he laid his eyes on you. Asked you out on a date, and then another one, and another one.... And now he's officially your boyfriend. And you love him oh so much. You feel like in him you found your soulmate.

There is just one thing you're worried about ever since he took you out on the first date. And that is physical affection. More like how you don't like it. Or to phrase it better: you can't really take it. One thing you always noticed in relationships is that physical touch is something that everyone needs and the fact that you're usually reluctant about it caused serious arguments in multiple of your past relationships, eventually leading the to their end.

At first you weren't sure if you should let Nicholas know about this worry of yours, but as you guys went on more and more dates you realised that it's not something that you can keep as a secret forever. So you told him. And he said he understood. You just didn't tell him everything.

Either way your relationship was going great, you have been together for two months now, and through this time Nicholas had been so great, always asking if he can touch you before hugging you or anything else. He really did look out for you.

Today seemed to be rough though. Nicholas slept over at your place for the first time. Two months is a long time but for you it's especially hard to let people close, both physically and emotionally, so this was a big step for you.

In the morning you woke up before Nicholas and you decided to make breakfast for both of you. Something easy without much trouble. As you were in the process of making the food once you just felt two hands gently reaching under your shirt to touch your sides. And just as a reflex you instantly let everything go from your hands, closed your eyes, gritting your teeth, you pushed the hands away as strong and fast as you possibly could.

"Relax baby, it's just me" you did relax as soon as you heard Nico's voice from behind you. Opening your eyes you turned to him seeing he put both his hands in the air like you were threatening to shoot him. "Who did you even expect it to be?" He asked with a little smirk hiding in his voice as he put his hands down.

"I mean.... I don't know" you answered honestly. Because when this happens, when you push away anyone who's touching you at certain places you genuinely don't know who you tough was touching you when you push their hands away "you never know" you muttered as you turned back to the food you were preparing.

"It's been a while since we're together and I always wanted to ask...." he seemed to hesitate a little bit, like he was afraid of the question. Or maybe he was actually afraid of the answer, that it will be what he thought it was. "Why do you not like touches? I mean in some cases it's understandable, nobody likes if someone touches them without permission but.... Not even hugs or anything. Why....?"

You sensed that this was the part when he expected your answer. So you turned to him again, so you can be face to face with him. His eyes seemed a little worried, scared of what will come next. You were scared too, you hadn't shared this part of you with many people, only your closest friends knew the truth. You have never told this to any of those you were in a relationship with before. Because you were afraid that this could be a reason for them to leave. That's why you're afraid to tell it to Nicholas. But you can't deny an answer now. Not when he's looking at you with eyes that could make the strongest hearts melt.

"It's not easy to explain, you know" he looked at you, clearly not satisfied with something this short for an answer. "I was really young.... And someone touched me at certain places in certain ways. Someone I thought I could trust" you kept staring at the ground while you said these words. They came harder than you thought they would, it was like something wanted to keep them inside. You felt something hard on your chest, suddenly breathing became harder and you fought tears back as some memories from that time came back.

After a little silence you looked up at Nicholas. The way he hadn't say anything scared you a little. "I'm so sorry" he whispered as he looked at you absolutely broken.

"Why are you sorry? It's not like it's your fault"

"I'm sorry for dragging this out of you" he answered "you're clearly uncomfortable with it and I didn't want to make you feel like you have to tell me"

"No it's okay" you said with a small smile creeping on your lips "I trust you"

"Can I hug you?" You nod as an answer and he hugged you so tightly like he was afraid that something might rio you out of his arms. "I won't force you to tell me more.... But if you want to talk about it, you always can talk to me, okay?"

"Okay." You muttered into his chest. You were so happy he didn't leave you for this, that he didn't look at you differently now. "But honestly, I just want all those memories to turn into oblivion"

And you let all the tears that you were holding back flood from your eyes. Years of your silence coming out of you now in the forms of salty water sliding down your cheeks.

But in Nicholas' arms you felt safe.

[sweetestlamb]

The Art of Realization

Summary: A quiet moment between two beings that shouldn't be.

It's impossible to focus with him sitting too close, so close that the heat of his body encroaches on her personal space and honestly she should kick him out because that damn organ in her chest keeps pounding, but every time she looks over at him she just can't.

Can't say anything that will wipe that soft amused smile off his face.

He'd put on some comedy show for them to watch, walking man or something and every few seconds the ring of his laughter would fill the room and knock all thoughts from her head.

Something was wrong with her and he was at the core of the problem thus she needed to stay away from him until this... sickness passed. But she couldn't because every time she imagined her life without him everything hurt and her chest felt like someone had poured fired directly into the cavity.

She was a demon, a powerful at that and she of all people shouldn't be getting attached to a weak useless human but here she was worried about hurting Daon's feelings.

She screamed in frustration, suddenly pulling her hair and flopped back onto the couch.

"What's wrong with you? Are demons not allowed to watch comedy shows? Should I turn it off?"

His questions are so stupid that she just screams some more instead of answering him.

"Will you stop that, what are you a fish? Stop flopping around!" He yells at her but she can hear the amusement loud as a gong in his voice and she immediately becomes irritated. How dare he laugh at her frustration? Others had died at her hands for lesser offenses.

"Are you laughing at me? Do you want to die?"

Of course she knows that she's being a hypocrite especially after protecting him so many times but she still has a reputation to uphold, damn it.

"Not yet. We still have a lot to do before you can kill me."

And there it goes again.

She clutches her chest in agony at the very thought of hurting him. It hadn't been long ago that she had thrust her knife into his flesh and watched him bleed out without empathy or care but now she was devastated at the image.

She folds in half begging her heart to stop this nonsense.

"What's going on with you?" He shifts even closer, hand reaching out and she instinctively moves away from him, aware he's the only human who has this much power over her.

"Don't touch me!" She tries to command but the fear in her voice makes it sound like plea.

He freezes at her frantic voice, hand hovering before he lowers it onto his own knee.

"Leave. I'm not feeling well." She declares before running away to her room. As she slams the door behind her she feels like a coward, running away from a mere human. She, who should fear no one. She, who is one of hell's strongest warriors has been reduced to this. It's pathetic. She needs to return before it's too late and this disgusting humanity spreads.

She takes a few deep breaths pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool smooth wood of her door.

He's gone at least for tonight and she doesn't need to confront whatever is going on.

Seconds pass like molasses and when she hears no movement or sound, she finally opens the door intending to watch dramas until she falls asleep refusing to let herself think about him.

"Are you done with your little meltdown?"

He's right in front of her door, his face devoid of any emotion and she almost slams the door in his face but he's too quick for her.

She's still stronger than him but she doesn't want to hurt him so she doesn't use her full strength and she knows the he knows this is the case from the quirk of his eyebrow.

"Shut up." She demands harshly pushing him in the chest.

"Ow. I didn't say anything."

"Your stupid face said enough."

"Stupid huh? You called it handsome last time. Has it changed that much since then?"

She gapes at him in shock.

"When did I ever say that?"

"Oh you don't remember? When you were touching my lips and--"

"Shut up!"

He mimes zipping his lips but that has the adverse effect of making her look at them. Those beautiful full lips that she shouldn't be so tempted by. Demons didn't kiss, some had sex but she had never been interested in anything like that. She would never make herself so vulnerable in front of anyone.

But she had already done that with him.

Cried in front of him.

Cried because of him.

It was unacceptable but she couldn't stop doing it, couldn't get her heart to stop breaking when his broke in front of her.

"There's that look again."

She swiftly looks away but it's not fast enough.

He cups her cheeks drifting her eyes back onto his own.

"That look. You look like your heart is breaking."

He sees right through her and she hates it, hates him and what he's done to her, she's Justitia the third most powerful demon but in front of him none of that even matters.

"I'm a demon. I don't have a heart."

"Then why do you look like you're going to cry?"

As if waiting for his permission, a tear slips down her cheek and then another and another until they are falling in a rapid stream.

"Stop crying in front of me. Do you know what it does to me?" He pleads wiping her tears away with one huge thumb and then his own eyes pool with tears as they stare at each other.

She shouldn't ask how her tears affect him. Because she shouldn't care about him or anyone.

"What does it do?" Her lips defy her brain.

"It makes me want to burn the world at your feet, to do any and everything to make you stop. It makes me want to do things I know I shouldn't, things that humans and demons can never do."

Her eyes widen in surprise but that isn't the only emotion fueling her thoughts, she feels blood rushing to her head and her face starts to heat up as well.

"Are you blushing?" He questions in awe.

And she opens her lips to respond but he beats her to it, "Beautiful. You're beautiful."

She raises her hands to push him away but his skin is so warm and his chest is harder than she expected and before she can control herself, her hands begin to cautiously explore him. As her palms drift from his abdomen to his shoulder she see his Adam's apple bob in anticipation.

The hands on her cheek shift until one is cupped around her neck and the other tightens on her waist, tugging her closed until they are chest to chest and she has to look up to meet his dark eyes.

"We shouldn't."

She begs but he barely reacts to her words, staring at her like a man starved.

They both know that she can stop this at any moment and he waits to see if she will run away again.

He licks his lips and that's all it takes to break her resolve.

She thrusts her head forward powerfully until their lips meet in a hard clash, she even hears a muffled groan of pain. She uses her strength to tug him down and press her mouth even harder into his, it hurts a little but this is how she's seen them kiss in all the dramas she's watched so she presses on.

"Wait--"

He speaks in between their lips and she starts to retreat, realizing what exactly she's doing and with who.

"We're not stopping. Just... softer. Like this." He leans in again and presses his lips against hers delicately like she's something precious. Every time she tries to increase the intensity he moves away before returning with another air soft kiss, it's driving her crazy but she can't deny it's efficiency. It makes her hungry for more.

"Isn't that better? This doesn't need to be a battle."

Oh. But that's all she's ever known. All she's good for. He should know that.

"Don't think. Just feel me."

"Okay. If you want my full attention, then you need to do something to get it."

She's bluffing of course, his swollen red lips, rising chest and flushed face have her full attention already. Her thoughts are nothing but Han Daon.

But he accepts the challenge as usual never backing down from her.

He leans close again, dragging a thumb to her jaw and then pulling down and she lets her mouth fall open in curiosity and confusion wondering where this is going.

His eyes darken even more and she has no idea the image she makes standing before him with her eyes filled with emotions and mouth obediently agape.

She only has a second to catch her breath before he's diving in and pressing his mouth against hers but this time it's different, it's wet and searing hot. His tongue is doing things that she's never known about. Dancing with her own in a dance that's too sinful for someone like him. She starts to lose her head with him pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth.

She feels like she's being eaten alive. Devoured.

Desperate to regain some semblance of control she moves them backwards until she has him pressed against the wall. She's never kissed before but she's a fast learner and she's eager to taste him in return.

Using her superior strength she shoves him up against the wall and pries his mouth open so she can fill her taste buds with a flavor that is distinctly him. Her heart is pounding in her chest but she can't stop, one taste and she's already addicted.

But she can feel him smiling into their kiss and she pulls away to glare at him.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I've never had a woman manhandle me like this."

"Well I'm not a woman really. But do you feel weak? Does it bother you that I'm stronger?"

He shrugs easily shaking his head.

"No. It's kinda hot."

"Idiot. You think everything I do is hot."

He doesn't deny it. Instead he drags his large hand down her waist to briefly cup her ass before blushing and moving it away.

"Did you just grope me?" She demands glaring up at him harder even as her cheeks burn and something between her legs tingles.

"Um...no?"

But she can still feel the sensation of his hand on her rear.

"Who knew you were such a pervert?"

He blushes harder, "Well you were right. I've never had a pretty girl take care of me before."

And possessiveness flares in her chest. She likes that he's never done this before with anyone else. And now he never will with anyone else unless they want to burn for all eternity in hell.

Mine.

She shouldn't be having thoughts like that. But she can't stop herself from thinking it.

So she does she does best, deflect.

"What's this? Are you that happy to touch a woman's ass? Did it get you that excited?" She teases dragging one finger up the inseam of his pants, right next to the pronounced tent forming in front.

He wriggles but doesn't move away like she expected, freaking brat.

"Are you that happy to touch me there? Have you ever seen a human.... naked?"

She blushes brightly, pulling her hand away as if she's been burned.

"You pervert!"

He chuckles at her indignation, shifting to tuck himself away.

"And you're a tease. An adorable innocent tease."

"I'm not innocent, I'm a demon."

"Yeah but you're a demon who's never seen a dic--"

And before he can finish his sentence she hits him with a pillow causing him to fall onto the couch.

And maybe later tonight when she's alone what she's done will terrify her beyond belief but right now she can only think about this beautiful human who has broken down all her walls.

She wants to stay with him.

She wants Han Daon.

Fuck.

[just-space-055]

GUYS DROP EVERYTHING SAMPO EVENT DAY 7 IS HERE!! Cannot wait to talk about this so let's get into it:

SPOILERS FOR DAY 7!!

----

Can't tell if this is because of him being so mysterious all the time or me overanalysing but SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE?? Hmmmmm do you mean the 4th wall maybe?? HMMM???

Of course this could just be simple joke as well. But the way Sampo acts always makes me question his lines... That or i might be crazy-

Now this is our last item

I've tried to translate the blue words around it hoping it might contain something but it seems to just spell out the name of the item, The Manifest Life of Eternally Homing.

As for the two words on the lower left that are sadly being blocked out by the sold out sign, they spell out: Big data

Which makes sense since the description of the item says to "apply the latest big data algorithms to gain insights into your past and present lives"

But for the binary codes in the back, i have no idea if they mean anything or not. I tried using a site to translate it but couldn't get an answer. If anyone manages to find anything i would love to know!

For the interaction here i find it very interesting. One who doesn't know anything about their past and one we don't know anything about their past. And they both have an invalid rating... All the rating and emantor theories aside what Sampo says here is also quite intriguing. If you think about it he is very contradictory himself so this might also be his way of saying no matter how he acts the person beneath it is the same? Hmmm...

----

NO WAY A POSITIVE RESPONSE TO SAMPO?? IMPOSSIBLE.

Jokes aside you betcha i chose the nice one and here is what he says next if you haven't; in which case why would you to that to dear old Sampo :(

Have no idea what he says to the other option tho so if you do feel free to write it in the comments!

----

Maybe this is the exact reason he does his scams as well, for the funny tales?

Hey hey hey Sampo what do you mean by hot-blooded past? SAMPO? HEY?? NO IT IS NOT POINTLESS TO TALK ABOUT COME BACK HERE-

SAMPOOOOOOO

GUYS. HE SANG THE KALEVALA POEM. THE LINES ARE THE EXACT SAME. IT IS CANON. I HOPED FOR THESE DAYS. I AM GOING INSANE.

----

That event was SOMETHING. Now i am really curious about how much of that poem is canon to our story. This opens up the path to SO many possibilities and theories. One question that i wonder the most is who is our Ilmarinen?..

I can't wait to read all the crazy theories after this. Heck i might even write my own as well (once my exam week has passed) This event will feed us for the rest of the year. BUT I ALSO ALREADY MISS HIM :(

To finish it off here is a picture i took before he disappered (To those who have not played day 7 yet beware because he VANISHES after this talk so if you wanna take a picture don't forget to take one before he doing day 7!)

~~~~♡~~~~♡~~~~♡~~~~

[itadores]

note: vaguely inspired by the line “i don't smile for the camera / only smile for you” from the song attention by joji

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader

tags: gender neutral reader, actor au, secret & established relationship

throughout his years in the industry, nanami kento has cultivated a reputation for himself as an undeniably and exceptionally talented yet serious actor. nobody would ever dare to say nanami kento is unkind because it would be untrue, but there's a certain boundary that nanami draws between himself and the rest of the world. he's careful to separate his work life from his personal life, leaving very few privy to the inner-workings of the latter.

to the public, nanami's private life is a complete and utter mystery. nanami has almost no social media presence. he only posts on social media and makes public appearances when necessary for the promotion of the films he stars in. during taped or red-carpet interviews, nanami skillfully navigates questions that try and glean any information related to his private life. he manages to provide answers that are seemingly adequate, but don't reveal anything about what he wishes to keep private. his fans lament how he's so pr-trained.

by now, most interviewers are well aware of nanami's reputation as a remarkably accomplished but intensely private actor. most have given up prying into his private life since they're unable to obtain anything of substance form the actor, but some still try their hand from time to time.

during the press tour for his latest film, one of the interviewers ask nanami if he's seeing anyone. it's a question that the interviewer excepts the answer to be a resounding no. after all, that's how nanami has always answered this question. the interviewer already has their next question prepared, but they're utterly astounded when the corners of nanami's lips curl into a small nearly imperceptible smile and he simply says "that's private." the interviewer is stunned silent and stutters through their next question when they're met with nanami's expectant glance.

when the interview is later posted online, nanami's fans go wild with his reaction and his response. they've never seen their beloved actor make such a soft expression before. and they've never known nanami to not respond no to the question. trust that a portion of his fanbase scoured the internet for every single instance that this particular question has been posed to nanami in the past, analyzing his various answers. each and every time, it was some variation of no. instantaneously, rumors abound, speculating who nanami's mystery partner could possibly be.

you're completely enthralled as you scroll through the many theories nanami's fans have come up with. a fan so thoroughly convinced that nanami and gojo are together that they've made an entire series to plead their case draws an exceptionally loud laugh from you. it's incredibly entertaining to read about the theories and rumors and speculation surrounding nanami's love life when you know the truth.

the distinctive sound of your front door unlocking compels you to pause your endless scrolling and put your phone down. you pad over to the entrance area and lean against the wall as you admire the man standing in your doorway.

"welcome home, kento," you greet.

a soft smile forms on nanami's lips. it's bigger than the small one he shared during the interview. it's one that's reserved only for you.

"i'm home."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you think it's okay for me to write for TWST even though I don't play the game?

Personally, I don’t think anyone ever “needs” to play a game in order to enjoy it and create for it. Sometimes you can just observe art from a distance and appreciate it, or you like hearing about how it brings joy to people you know. Maybe you like the aesthetic of it but can’t really see yourself getting heavily involved with it. Perhaps you don’t like gacha games so you can’t be motivated to engage with the mechanics. There are many possible avenues.

In the case of a game like Twisted Wonderland, there may be accessibility reasons why you don’t play since the game is only in English and Japanese—and even then, maybe your country doesn’t have a server to host it. In fact, I know there are many people who are TWST fans yet only read translations or watch videos about it without having played the game themselves. Maybe they found the manga or the light novel first. Whenever the anime comes out, people might discover TWST through that. We have to consider these aspects and be more open-minded about what constitutes as a “fan” rather than gatekeeping the label of “fan” to only those who play tie game for no discernible reason. What defines someone as a fan or not isn’t the labels other people put on you—you are the one that decides what you want to label yourself, and whether you are a fan or not.

I believe that also extends to content creation in fandom spaces. No one’s stopping you from making fan art or writing fanfic (or whatever it may be) just because you don’t play the game, and nor should you need anyone’s thumbs-up to do so. When you think that you do, you’re only imposing an arbitrary limit and holding yourself back. You have to be confident in deciding what you want to make without worrying how others might perceive you for it.

Now, that being said 💦 I don’t mean to scold anyone for asking me questions, but I feel that I again need to stress this: I am an internet stranger. My opinion or approval/disapproval shouldn’t hold any more weight than the next person’s. You should not put too much value in the advice of an internet stranger either. You shouldn’t care whether or not I think something is okay for you to do. The only person who can give you “permission” is you!

I understand that maybe people may feel uncertain about themselves or are looking for reassurance from a third party, but I do not feel I am the right place to go to for these kinds of things. Even though I answer in earnest, questions of this nature make me feel like I’m being put on the spot and pressured to provide timely comfort.

I don’t feel comfortable continuously being asked for very personalized advice like this; asks like this push on the boundary and start getting into uncomfortable territory for me. I’m here to talk about Disney anime pretty boys. I’m not here to be a fandom counselor 😅 Does that make sense?

This isn’t the only time I’ve received asks of this nature, nor is it the only time I’ve had to give a public warning about this. Please be mindful and respect the boundaries I have set.

[in1-nutshell]

I'm gonna try again tfp team prime with a bot Buddy who has a concerning interest in poison. 😅 And now i'm beginning to annoy myself

Hello there! Don't worry about asking again, I'm just not well versed in some things that's all. Still glad you asked though! Since you did not specify which characters you wanted I will be selecting them at random.

Hope you enjoy!

Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus reaction to Bot Buddy who is fascinated with poison

SFW, Platonic, talks of poison, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

TFP

Ratchet

Ratchet has known Buddy for a while. As in before the war started, before their interest in poison.

Buddy used to be a good doctor that helped him from time to time in his makeshift clinic. They were always experimenting with new forms of medicine to treat patients. It could have been medicine for a mesh wound to try to find a cure for the rust plague.

It was during the war that they had found an interest in poison.

Ratchet wouldn't see Buddy again until they crash landed on Earth. To say it was a pleasant surprise was an understatement.

"Ratchet? Ratchet is that you my friend?"--Buddy

"Buddy?! By the Allspark it's great to see you online."--Ratchet

"Likewise my friend. Now tell me, what do you need?"--Buddy

"Any help at this point would be nice, truly. "--Ratchet

"Well it's a good thing I brought my kits! Don't worry this war will be over in no time now!"--Buddy

"You still have the kits?! I thought they were destroyed in your lab back on Kimia."--Ratchet

"Kits? Ratchet what are they talking about?"--Bulkhead

"An explanation would be nice."--Arcee

"Buddy has a gift for medicine... And other things..."--Ratchet

"Oh Ratchet you make it sound like a bad thing. To answer your question, my dear Wrecker, I specialize in poisons and venoms of all sorts! Pretty exciting don't you think?"--Buddy

"... I'm just going to be over there..."--Bulkhead

While Ratchet isn't exactly thrilled with the idea of Buddy handling any type of poison, he has to admit that they do get the job done.

Buddy is often seen in their little corner of the base or near the consoles discussing things with Ratchet.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack knew Buddy from the Wrecker's. Like him, Buddy was a former scientist before the war started.

The two of them went together faster than a house on fire. One was never too far from the other, and if they were something was going to explode.

There was a huge explosion the day that the two had gotten separated.

Years later Buddy found a strange signal coming from a planet called Earth. They decided to go and check it out. Who knows if they would find more poisonous things for their kits?

They didn't find any poison yet, but they did find Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack.

"Wheeljack! Bulkhead! Ultra Magnus sir!"--Buddy

"Buddy?--Bulkhead

"Buddy?!"--Magnus

"Buddy!"--Wheeljack

"Wait how do we know if it's the real Buddy? We don't want another Makeshift problem."--Bulkhead

"Makeshift?"--Buddy

"True soldier. From what you told me we need to be on high alert in case this is a Decepticon."--Magnus

"Decepticon?"--Buddy

"It's Buddy I can tell."--Wheeljack

"How?"--Bulkhead

"There is only one bot crazy enough to carry that many kits labeled POISON like it's a collection of rocks."--Wheeljack

"Hey!"--Buddy

After the formal introductions are made, and Buddy gets to know Team Prime, they are once again attached to Wheeljack.

Wheeljack doesn't mind Buddy's fascination with poison. In fact he encourages it. The more Cons they can the better.

Ultra Magnus

Ultra Magnus knew Buddy as a new recruit for the Wrecker's medic.

How in the world they became friends?

Magnus doesn't have the right answer for that. It just happened.

He is well aware of Buddy's poisonous hobbies but he can't say they aren't benefiting from it. There have been multiple times where the Wrecker's would have been killed if not for Buddy's experiments.

Buddy had gotten separated from the Wrecker's during a rather gruesome battle. Magnus pushes his grief deep down so he could focus on leading his group.

Buddy gets reunited with Magnus when they literally crash into the IronWill.

"Identify yourself!"--Magnus

"Magnus? Ultra Magnus! I can tell how good it is to hear your voice my friend!"--Buddy

"Buddy?"--Magnus

"Sure is Commander! Might I say it again, it's good to hear your voice."--Buddy

Magnus gives Buddy the introduction to the team. He makes sure that Buddy doesn't feel isolated or left out. He knows how that feels.

It takes more time for the team to get used to the fact that Magnus has a best friend than Buddy playing around with poison.