#sometimes i'm a sentimental fool

[firstroseofspring]

thinking pondering to me john torres is like. what if u met a woman. with confidence and dignity and a strong moral backbone. you meet and she makes a distinct impression with her honesty and her frankness and she seems like she's always sure of what she wants and what she needs and she's so different from anyone else you know and thats exciting and she's exciting and she likes you specifically you. and you don't think much of you but it feels good to be liked by someone like that. you love her of course. you marry her. of course!

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.

wc: 1848

a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3

masterlist

"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.

"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.

"there's no joke. we're dating."

even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, – in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other – your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.

"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.

"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.

"i just don't buy it."

"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."

"she's out of your league anyway."

seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.

this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.

~

acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.

any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.

jeonghanieyoon: booo 🍅

joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead 😘

dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable 🧐

sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.

from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real

from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!

in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.

however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you – they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.

this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.

so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.

what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.

when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.

despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you – "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.

it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.

"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.

"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.

you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.

"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.

his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.

"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.

"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.

eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.

which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.

"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"

what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.

the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).

however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.

"no way, you're actually dating?!"

"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."

"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."

"how the fuck did you score her??"

"do you guys want a third?"

these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.

"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.

in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.

once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.

"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.

"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.

"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."

"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.

"i mean-"

"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.

chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.

"c'mere, baby."

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/752304229892358144/minors-dni-hhnrh-ive-always-wanted-to-make-a?source=share

I need more Rudy. Like .. it's a very strong need...please I'm begging you 😭

[HhhhnHHHNN WORD VOMIT INCOMING-]

Following the events of what transpires in the comic "Aliens: Stronghold" (you can find it online), Jeri the synthetic xenomorph is supposedly dead, as is Doctor Nordling. The Mayakovsky prototype records along with whatever modifications Nordling created are lost forever...

But are they?

What if a somewhat less insane crew managed to perhaps gather parts of the wreckage that ensued, studied them just enough to know how to make their own, different yet still entirely functional synthetic xenomorph? A crew that does value the monitoring of xenomorph colonies spread throughout the worlds wherein these hives are placed upon to gestate, and polices the illegal harvesting of eggs or specimen (idk, bare with me okay).

The model they designed, based heavily on Jeri, needed a couple key modifications. First, it needed to be distinct enough from the standard xenomorph drone, such so that people would not get frightened by the sight of it amongst crewmates. These differences in appearance are remedied by even more aggressive pheromone secretions to both fool and calm biological xenomorphs into believing that Rudy belongs. His somewhat less accurate appearance also allows for his maintenance to be cheaper, as well as for the synth to fit into humanoid gear more effectively.

Named after the prototype Norbert, and Jeri, Rudy only seemed fitting.

Quite like his predecessor, and as appears to be a trend recently, Rudy has a very stark and unique personality that shows itself whenever he begins to grow comfortable around someone. He's curious and talkative, having a fondness for oversharing about the xenomorph species and its many casts, as well as his interests in collecting new and exciting pieces of the world he's currently exploring with his mostly human crew and all things nature-related.

Although he's nothing if not helpful and vital to the work that is being done by this team, Rudy is still a synthetic, which creates a natural divide when it comes to forming relationships. Normally, this divide is somewhat softened when a synthetic passes as human and performs actions that make it look even more relatable. Rudy is visibly, unavoidably monstrous, and he makes no real attempt to fit in with acts that are strictly human. He will sit at the table while others eat, but he's very clearly not interested in commenting on the food and tries to pull others into conversation instead. He doesn't wear clothes, he can't facially emote anywhere as intricately as a human can.

He's lonely. And he understands why.

But it's painful for the synthetic xenomorph, because he feels no joy dwelling with other synthetics, and he can't bond with xenomorphs the way he desires. He feels at home around humans, and his own crew keeps him at bay, frustrating Rudy as they consistently deny him a real connection- Sometimes even subconsciously!

That's where you come in.

Following the unfortunate accident of the resident synthetic engineer on the ship, you are assigned his role. Arriving just in time, as Rudy is in dire need of assistance from miscalculating the height of a drop. He doesn't think much of you, at first. You'll be just like the others, finding him interesting for a short while, then resorting to formalities or simply ignoring him when he's not immediately convenient.

But he still tries anyway, because he's painfully desperate for connection.

Imagine his shock as you seem very interested in conversing with him in a consistent manner. Rudy is no idiot, he understood your interest was mainly to understand the circuitry and coding within him that allowed for such an authentic and varied range of emotions, sentiments. He fascinated you beyond merely being a bizarre thing, and that made the synth happy, fulfilled.

Rudy began to latch onto you.

When he had arrived from a routine check on a hive, he'd instantly seek you out without even needing any kind of repair, just to chat about his findings, talking about the specimen xenos the same way you'd talk about zoo mascots. He'd try to drag you down into the field with him numerous times, formulating rapid-fire arguments as to why the supervisors should allow you to accompany Rudy. You can't lie and say that you weren't a tad curious, especially after hearing the xeno's numerous stories.

Somehow, after perhaps not so friendly methods, he gets granted his wish, and down you go, into the wilderness, with a synthetic.

Rudy seems elated to have alone time with you in the nature of this vast planet, and you note that he touches you a lot more often. Grabs you with his six fingered hands, nuzzles his dome against your head, hugs you from behind and even lifts you a couple of times, he's utterly euphoric, something you've never seen in a synth. Sure, your crewmates had made comments about how close Rudy had gotten to you, how the synthetic "had a puppy crush on you", but those were just jabs you didn't mind taking. And surely, when Rudy replied positively to those jests, he was only trying to get in on the joke, right?

You remember the shock and fear that permeated you as you first entered a colony. Rudy didn't let you get too far into the structure, but you got to observe the entrance, the little resting holes on walls that xenos occupied when drained. You got to see drones marching around, dragging potential hosts with them. And you even got "checked" by a soldier cast. It had been strange then, watching Rudy communicate back and forth with the xenomorph, effectively clearing you of suspicion after a few snort-hisses. Your heart never beat so loudly before, and you remember laughing wildly with the synthetic after the two of you had retreated into safer grounds.

Yet, for as much as you had grown to enjoy having Rudy as a friend, you couldn't ignore the remarks your crewmated had been making about him. How the synth would ravenously defend you from the smallest of accusations, how he collected everything you left behind and would even steal presents you gave to others. He became mouthy and troublesome when they refused to let you go explore with him.

And lately, to make it all even more confusing, you've been finding him "doing maintenance" on himself. Things he won't let you access, that he tries to deviate your attention from. For just the glimmer of a second, you hope you only imagined spotting the digital blueprint for a set of modified synthetic genitalia...

Something's not right with Rudy, you think, catching him staring intensely at you again.

[yaksha-lover]

I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but if you are, do you think you could write a short drabble about Malleus missing Yuu after they've gone home to the point of feeling haunted? Like the feeling is so immense and overwhelming to him that he feels unwell and everything reminds him of them. Just a lot of angst and stuff lol. I hope this ask was clear enough and thank you for taking the time to read it, I really love your writing!

Malleus dreams of you, most nights.

Sometimes of old memories, sometimes of futures that will never come to pass. It’s bittersweet, if not lovely, to distract himself with an illusion.

Sometimes he dreams the two of you aren’t who you are in this world; that maybe in another life you’re born into the same universe and he isn’t destined to be a king. That the two of you live a normal life together, just like anyone else.

He can’t fool himself for long. Something is always off; the specks of colour in your eyes not quite right or your smile vague. It only adds another layer of agony, forcing him to curse his own fallible memory when he realizes he is beginning to forget what you look like.

When he passes by the bench on campus where he’d told you a joke he’d stolen from Lilia and he realizes he can no longer recall the charming sound of your laughter, making his heart flutter almost painfully.

Even the gargoyles around Ramshackle dorm cannot entice him to walk that path again. It’s too much to see your former home, to let himself forget for a moment and knock on your door before remembering you will never be there to open it again.

Time, Lilia tells him. You will be okay. In time.

Even his guardian seems unconvinced by his own words, doing his best to comfort Malleus. He appreciates the sentiment, but the words are empty to him.

It seems inevitable that there’s something that will never quite be the same again in his world. No one else is you, after all. How can one recreate the exuberant feeling of swimming in the ocean with a mere puddle? The warmth and light of the sun with a campfire? Anything, no, anyone else simply pales in comparison, a cheap imitation which only serves to irritate him.

The others are worried about him, he can tell. Lilia comments when Malleus only picks at his plate during dinner time, trying to joke that he will loose his strength without sustenance. Silver gives his own words of concern, asking Malleus how he is doing. Sebek offers to make him any dish to return his appetite, vowing to do whatever it takes to keep him happy and healthy. For a moment, Malleus thinks of asking if Sebek will bring you home to him.

Sometimes he wonders if he made you up in his head. You were like an angel to him, a being so perfect that he could look at you and spend hours wondering how you were even real. Could it be his lonely imagination conjured some illusion to satiate him? To stop him from falling further and further into the depths of his own mind?

The only ones who seem to share in his grief are Grim and your two Heartslabyul friends. He’d never been the friendliest with them before, beyond basic curtesy, but he sometimes finds himself seeking them out now. It’s a bit comforting for Malleus to see that he is not the only one in the world who remembers you, nor the only one shaken by your absence.

Grim, perhaps, shares in his experience the most. The beast is uncharacteristically solemn, these days. He is the one who answers the door at Ramshackle when Malleus knocks. He supposes they give each other false hope, in that way. Malleus knocks, hoping that you’ll open the door. Grim opens it, hoping it’s you knocking.

He wants to be angry with you. For befriending him, for making him love you, for leaving him behind. But how can he? Falling in love was neither his choice nor your own. As for leaving him…it seems you did not feel the same, and that is not something he can fault you for.

You were his everything, but it seems he was just not worth leaving your own everything behind.

[barbwritesstuff]

Dearest Barb, I have (another) vampire question. Does MC have a scar from where Blackwell bit them and ultimately killed them? Iliya still has his scar, and the idea of him and MC both having visible memories of what killed them did make my sentimental sappy heart go !!!!

I'm sorry, but no.

Iliya has a scar because it's a bullet wound that happened days before his death. He was lying in a medical tent, mouth bandaged up, badly infected, feverish, but alive for long enough to develop scar tissue.

He doesn't remember the vampire that killed him. In his own words:

You turn to look at him. "How'd you die?" He glances over his shoulder. "I was shot." "By a vampire?" "By a Nazi." He gently touches the scar on his lips. "I was taken to the medical tent. I languished for days… but it was the nights that I remember. There was a priest who was following the regiment. He prayed by my bed. I wonder if, perhaps, he was the walking dead, or if it was another." It takes you a moment to realise what those words mean. "You don't know the vampire that made you?" He shrugs. "The battalion had been plagued with strange stories since Poland. Sometimes, fallen comrades would be seen in the woods, following us at night. Sometimes, men would go talk to them, and never return, or return wrong. Sometimes, darker, stranger things would happen. Sickness, weakness, bloodlessness." You consider this in silence. "The General called us superstitious fools," Iliya continues after a moment. "But the commander ordered all of our dead to be burnt or buried in chains, vertical, head down." "They didn't burn you." "No. They didn't bind me either. I think they were out of chain. But they buried me upside down. I am glad I remembered. If I hadn't, I would've dug down into the earth, and be trapped there still. Instead, I dug up, and escaped. I was strong, even newly made. That is how I was able to do it, I think." "Fuck," you whisper. He smiles. "It was not too terrible. I was afraid at first. I did not know what I was. When I tried to return to camp they fired at me. That was when I realised bullets did not hurt me. My heart did not beat. But I hungered for those who's hearts did." "What did you do?" "I found the Nazi that killed me and returned the favour." Thicker Than - Chapter 10

His scar is a war wound he got in 1945.

Vampire bites don't typically leave scars. Vampire saliva is ridiculously good at healing wounds. MC doesn't have a scar from their death.

[lemonhemlock]

Is it just me or is everyone's obsession with being "disappointed" in Alicent greatly exaggerated? It is true that most of these concerns were raised when the trailers were released, but it seems to me that episode 1 turned out to be pretty.... normal? God knows the writers flip-flopped on her reactions and objectives in the second part of season 1, but so far I think she had a pretty understandable characterisation?

She is angry with Aemond for killing Lucerys, but I feel like that's a pretty basic reaction? What was she supposed to do, congratulate him? He went to Storm's End on a diplomatic mission, after all. She does tell Otto that she understands Aemond's ire with Lucerys and even kind of excuses and minimizes what he did, because he never got justice for his eye. But it's a normal scolding mother reaction to not encourage these kinds of behaviours in one's children? Also, it's been, what, a week? She's allowed to be upset that Aemond goes on one (1) big boy errand and immediately loses his temper.

I also wouldn't be taking Aemond branding her "a fool" at face-value lol. This is the boy who will soon be executing children at Harrenhal and lighting the Riverlands on fire. Sometimes "holding love for your enemy" is not such a bad thing, Aemond!

She does light a candle for Lucerys in the sept, but this is, again, not that big of a deal? She is allowed to extend sympathy for the senseless loss of life and regret that it has come to this, without ~betraying her family, lol.

She accepts in front of Otto that there will be violence, but insists that it need not be senseless. I'm having a hard time understanding why this is such a controversial take. There are so many pieces of meta that people reblog constantly about how the Dance of the Dragons consists of wanton and unnecessary violence, but god forbid the same sentiment comes out of Alicent's mouth. 😂 Then she is branded a Rhaenyra-lover at the expense of her children. I'm not denying that the writers have a problem with separating her actions from gravitating around Rhaenyra, but wanting to prevent as many deaths as possible is not some woke take in the service of better-written female characters.

Similarly, of course she is still writing letters to Rhaenyra! You must never abandon diplomatic efforts if there is the slightest chance it will reduce bloodshed! Sure, you can argue that the narrative is also simultaneously assigning her the motive of (still) being love-sick about Rhaenyra, which can get grating, but I feel like fans fail to realise that killing off members of the black faction that they find annoying is always going to come at the cost of the smallfolk and other innocent people who have nothing to do with this quarrel. Sometimes you have to eat your tongue and make concessions in order to avoid military escalation.

[ittodori]

YOU'RE HERE, THAT'S THE THING.

⌗ you're in love with scaramouche, and you think he is too. (modern au)

inspired by beabadoobee's song w the same title <3 i hope that'll somehow explain what this is ...

if you didn't know any better, you would think that scaramouche hates you — absolutely and utterly despises you, even.

it might seem a bit dramatic, but he hasn't exactly been acting like a pleasant person to be around. with the way he talks down on you as if he’s untouchable, the way he scoffs and frowns at every little thing you do, and the way he never misses the chance to mock you; you don't have to think long and hard about the fact that you’ve become the unfortunate target for his strange and bitter feelings, but you suppose that it has always been just a part of him.

(because not once has he ever made a fool of you in front of anyone. the childish banter that could go on for ages is something you deem sacred because he allows himself to laugh, and you’re the only witness to how his hair bounces every time.)

you almost believed his little act; but the thought of detaching yourself from this boy whose goal is to make your life miserable is disheartening, funnily enough. because if you’re being honest, you’re a little bit in love with him — and you probably should be hurt a lot more with the way he treats you, but sometimes, when it’s just the two of you basking in each other’s silence after he’s done making comments about how you fell asleep in class and you’ve rolled your eyes for the nth time that afternoon, there’s this tension that makes your heart thump against your chest. it’s never been awkward nor hurtful, it’s always been comfortable.

(in those moments, you truly feel like a teenager in love. 

you’re certain scaramouche could feel it too.)

"if you weren't so forgetful, you would be sleeping by now."

he takes your wrist in a way that contrasts with the tone of his voice that you almost laugh. then, he pulls you to his side as gently as he could, under the tiny umbrella and the absence of space between you, and your heart is about to lurch out of your throat again. 

"wait," he turns to you with a sneer, "you did this on purpose."

you pull your arm away, shooting him a look of disbelief because how dare he accuse you of such a thing! scaramouche only returns it much nastier than you ever could, and you hope he thinks your flushed face is because you want to punch him, not because you have your own umbrella hiding in your bag.

"why do you always have to make it sound like i'm obsessed with you?"

"isn't that what you told me? i'm simply reminding you of your..." there it is again, that condescending smirk you could never get out of your head. “...foolishness.”

grunting, you walk a little faster despite the rain immediately seeping through your clothes because my god, you really truly badly want to disappear. or choke him. or choke him then disappear. or tell him that his smirk is incredibly charming. 

you would rather die, actually.

he rolls his eyes from behind, and you know because you could practically hear it, as he takes rapid steps to catch up to you. the umbrella is shoved above your head, and you forget how to breathe again.

you don't know what came over you that day when you told him of your not-so-strange and bitter feelings, and how you like him more than normal classmates should in the same way you talk about homework. it's not like you were expecting him to return the sentiment, not at all, but the atmosphere with scaramouche somehow turns you into this honest mess. so before you could even think of the consequences, your mouth already blurted out the jumble of thoughts you’ve desperately tried to make sense of.

he didn’t comment on that mess back then, only staring at you with a particular glint in his eyes as if he was analyzing your very being and trying to dissect your soul. you learned that you prefer it much more when he’s taunting you, so you sat there, flipping through your notes to hide the tremble in your hands. his gaze on them was the only thing you could feel, but not once did he point it out.

looking back on it now, you think that was the exact moment when something changed in your relationship. that's when all of this — whatever this is, exactly — started. 

your fingers aren't enough to count the times he dramatically claimed that you're not a ‘thing’. just because he asked if you slept enough last night isn’t something you shouldn’t be hung up on (hah, you look gross, he says, but he doesn’t tell on you to the teacher when you doze off in the middle of class). even after doing the most mundane of things like lending you a pencil during tests or the most heartfelt of moments when he carried you on his back to the nurse's office when you merely scraped your knee; he’s always babbling about how you owe him and how you probably fell deeper in love and now he’s annoyed because he doesn’t want to deal with your so-called heart eyes.

he’s insufferable, really.

yet,

"sorry."

you blink, freezing in your steps. “sorry?”

he sighs deeply, as if he has never said that before in his life. for a moment, you believe he hasn’t. “for–” he turns his head away, effectively avoiding your curious eyes with his voice softer than usual– “calling it foolish.”

despite the many times scaramouche refuses to look at you, he can never truly hide the slight tint of pink rising from his neck to his ears. you don’t know if he’s aware that it’s there in the first place. or if he’s aware of the umbrella tilted more toward you. or if he’s aware that the unforgiving rain has soaked his shoulder. or if he’s aware that he even said the word sorry for the first time since you met.

your fingers twitch to reach out for his own that are curled around the handle of the umbrella, and you almost mention the furrow of his brows and the slight pout of his lips and his drenched uniform. you almost tell him he’s not wrong; that perhaps, you’re a little bit obsessed with that small gesture, and the small gestures before that, and the tiny tiny gestures before that.

he still doesn’t spare you a glance, simply starting to walk again, all traces of emotion entirely wiped from his face. you almost think you’re back to where you started, but then you catch a glimpse of the pink in his ears and you let him hear the laugh under your breath.

huddled under his umbrella, you continue to walk alongside scaramouche. no words are exchanged, but the corners of your lips lift upwards with each step you take.

(and you notice he’s doing the same, but you don’t point it out.)

[wolfofcelestia]

Welcome! Now that this blog has been fully converted into a Zayne loveblog, I've finally decided to make an actual introduction.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻

My name is Elara (she/her). I am an adult and will be posting adult content. Minors, blank blogs, art theives, and toxic people will be blocked

Most of what I write here will be about fictional boys voiced by Satou Takuya

Most of my analysis posts are usually very stream of conscious-y because I never stop thinking about this stupid ice man

⚠️ Sylus warning: He will appear on my blog as well but don't expect all my posts about him to be fluffy. He is the object of my sadism and I will talk shit about him and write about him in a masochistic role.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓻

I write when my brain allows me to. Most of what you'll see here are short clips of dialogue, headcanons, scenarios, and scenes in the style of LADS's social media posts. These snippets tend to be comedy, fluff, smut, angst, and occasional dark content

Got a request? Feel free to drop an idea in my askbox. No guarantees it will get filled, though

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓨𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓳𝓸𝓼𝓱𝓲 💙❤️🩵

This blog is my self-indulgent yumejoshi (self-insert) safe space, with my F/Os being Shokudaikiri Mitsutada and Rei.

I am extremely sappy and sentimental. Also extremely thirsty. I am parched. Dehydrated. I just have a lot of feelings for these boys. If you have a problem with that, feel free to block or unfollow me. You don't need to be in my space.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮

Thanks for stopping by and reading this far! There's more information about my name and Rei under the cut below for the curious.

Feel free to have a look around and interact with me whenever you like! I’d love to hear what you think of my ideas.

All of my writing can be found in my blog directory.

Quick tags:

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne, Dawnbreaker, Foreseer, Master

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Scenarios, Headcanons, Poems

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Vampire AU, LADS Soundtrack, Zayne Tier Lists

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Hunter's Diary, Glint Photos

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne Favourites, Sylus Favourites

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯 𝓸�� 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪

A rough translation of my Saniwa username: 天狼星

This is the star Sirius, which roughly translates to "heavenly wolf star" in Chinese/Japanese.

I wanted a daimyou-style title for my saniwa self-insert, so it turned into Wolf of Celestia.

Don't be fooled by the name, though. I'm actually just a smol wet puppy burdened with feelings for boys who don't exist.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼

“Elara” is the name of one of Jupiter's moons. In Greek mythology, she is a mortal princess with an unfortunately lame story. But I liked the sound of the name so I kept it.

The pronunciation on wikipedia is EL-ara. I also accept el-ARA.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓷

You may have noticed that I call him Rei in some posts and Zayne in other posts. Sometimes even in the same post, like this one. This is a very deliberate choice.

I first learned of his existence from Satou Takuya retweeting one of the promo videos for the game before it was released, so even before Day 1, I knew him as Rei. (And I was downbad for him without even knowing a thing about him.)

He is still Rei to me and always will be, but for ease of communication, I call him Zayne.

Long story short,

I call him Zayne when:

I'm referring to his character in general

I'm writing something meant for the rest of tumblr to reblog or engage with

I call him Rei when:

I'm referring to "My Rei", the Rei in my game, and the F/O of my yume ship.

─── Usually used in personal posts about my sappy feelings, not really meant to be engaged with

I'm referring to the character who is voiced by Satou Takuya and speaks Japanese.

─── Usually used to comment on SatoTaku's voice work specifically

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼

In my scenarios, I usually put dialogue and emphasized words in certain colours

MC is red because… put simply, that’s my colour

Zayne is always blue

Foreseer is always purple

Master is always green

But because tumblr is mostly in dark mode and I’m too lazy to add colours that aren’t on the default options, Dawnbreaker is usually red

Because if he were to choose a colour, it would always be hers

The only time Dawnbreaker isn’t in red is when MC is in the same scenario. In those cases, Dawnbreaker is the default text colour, relinquishing his colour to her

Because he would choose to be empty if it meant he could stay with her for just a little longer

That's all for now! I'll keep this updated if I need to add more links or information.

Final note: Yes my whole aesthetic is space and stars. Yes, my main is 10000% Rei LMAO I am so sorry Seiya

Dividers by saradika-graphics, cafekitsune

[connorswhisk]

simmer (nick x luke)

for @jessieluvsoranges sorry this took so long i hope you like it!! perhaps not as fluffy as you might have had in mind haha but apparently i'm allergic to writing fluff so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also on my ao3

Footsteps sound behind Nick in the dark, and his mouth twists down into an angry scowl. “I told you to leave me the hell alone, Uncle Pete.”

“I know,” Luke’s voice says softly, and Nick turns in surprise, shoulders de-tensing just a little at the realization. “But I figured maybe you were hungry.”

“Sorry,” Nick apologizes. “Thought you were…” He trails off, staring at the dry heel of brown bread and the mushy apple in Luke’s hands. “What the hell’s all this?”

Luke grimaces. “All I could manage to filch from dinner. Got somethin' for Diane, too. She’s eating it now.”

Nick ignores the offered food and returns to gazing moodily out of his and Luke’s cell bedroom window. “I’m gonna kill him.”

He hears Luke sink down on the creaky bottom bunk behind him. “You can’t kill him,” says Luke, ever the minuscule angel perched atop Nick’s shoulder, a little nagging sometimes. “You know that.”

“Well, I wish I could do something, ” says Nick angrily. He can still hear the sharp smack of Carver’s backhand across his mother’s face. He can barely feel his own swelling eye and stinging cheekbone, not through all the rage bubbling up inside him. Of course it wouldn’t be enough to just hit them, of course the fucker had to take away his mom’s dinner, too.

And Nick’s own meal, as well, but that doesn’t seem to matter as much.

“Carlos and Alvin think soon,” Luke tells him, voice rising to barely above a whisper. “Pete, Reggie, and Rebecca agree. Not that much longer, buddy, then we’ll get out of here. Just - Just keep holdin’ on. Just a little bit longer.”

Nick screws his eyes shut, frustrated. “I know,” he grumbles. “I know. God, this whole thing is just - it’s just so fucked! ”

“ Sssh! ” Luke hisses. His eyes dart fervently to their door’s open window. “Keep your voice down, man! Don’t be an idiot.”

“Sorry,” mutters Nick after a moment, shaking his head. He can barely keep the angry tremors out of his voice. “Don’t need him coming back here and blacking your eyes up, too.” His blood simmers steadily with hate. “What an asshole. ”

“We’re so close, ” Luke reminds him, voice sounding kinda desperate. “So close, Nick. And once we’re outta here, no one’s gonna lay a finger on you or Diane ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Every time he hears Luke say his name, Nick feels chills rippling up and down his fool’s backbone. He swallows, hard, and whispers, “You don’t know that, man.”

“Well, I’m gonna try to make it that way,” says Luke with conviction. He nods at the measly dinner set out on the rickety bedside table before him. “Go on then.”

Nick turns. Luke’s eyes are boring into his own, fervent and convincing (he’s so certain ), and Nick’s cheekbone throbs and he fists his hand into the collar of Luke’s shirt, white-knuckled, and kisses him.

Luke starts to return the sentiment, lips moving against lips, but just as quickly he pulls away. “We - We said we weren’t gonna do this anymore. You said we couldn’t do this no more.”

“Forget what I said,” Nick mutters back to him, aching to feel Luke’s tongue press into his own. “Just forget it, Luke, kiss me…”

“This is a bad idea,” Luke whispers, but he kisses him all the same. “Dammit…”

He never knew he wanted this, not really, not ‘til now. Nick’s not good with feelings and all that lovey-dovey crap. The stuff before, that had been stress relief. A way to find some little moment of somethin’ nice in the middle of all the shit. Eventually, he’d put a stop to it because Pete was startin’ to look at them funny. But now Nick realizes that maybe the real reason he tried to end it’s because he was getting more invested in what he and Luke were doing than he knew how to be comfortable with. 

Is he even comfortable now? No…and yes, definitely at the same time. He can’t really tell. This is what he’s always wanted - this is what was never supposed to happen - and, Lord help him, Nick can’t fucking stop, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He’s been looking and looking at Luke his whole life long and it’s only just now he’s picking up on what all those looks have really meant.

Uncle Pete would probably roll his eyes and say Told ya so, like he always has when Nick inevitably fucks up for the millionth time, even though he didn’t tell Nick nothing about this. Where the hell was the warning for any of it?

Life don't come with warnings anymore. Not these days.

Luke pulls away. He tips his head down to bury his nose at the junction of Nick’s shoulder and his neck. His lips flutter there, breathy, in and back out again.

I love you, Nick feels him mouth into his skin.

And Nick swallows, stomach growling with hunger as he glances over at his dinner, and he says to Luke, 

“I know.”

[astroyongie]

Hi yongie, I really hope you are doing better mentally ❤️

In the time you've been gone I've really missed your posts and ended up going back to read them and found a bunch of asks I'd sent you but never seen the answer to 😭 I guess I couldn't keep up with your updates which is amazing because that I read your Tumblr the same as if I were reading a newspaper lol. Anyway, in one of these you asked me for Jungkook's chart and I ended up not sending it.

-

•I really wanted to know if with his birth time right, he would still be this type that flirts a lot and if he would still cheat if he felt bored??

• Is the description of red flags and how he would be dating based only on the chart or on a little bit of what you know about him in the tarot too? I had this doubt because you and other astrologers here on Tumblr always say that Leo is a sign that is more difficult to cheat on because it is fixed. He also has scorpio and virgo in his chart, usually these signs are not very known for cheating.

• His Venus in Libra is one degrees of Cancer, would that make him more stable and sentimental in a relationship or would he just be more needy and would he cheat more easily for those who paid more attention to him?

•The sun and mercury are also in degrees of scorpio (besides his Mars is also in scorpio), does that count for anything?

• not to mention the houses too

LMAO I've said too much, I'll stop. I'm sorry for asking so many questions, I'm not doubting what you said about JK, I'm just really curious☠️☠️ I'm trying to figure out what makes this doberman an international playboy based on astrology 🩷

Hey love! i will try to answer your questions by actually analyzing Jungkook's chart completely !

Jungkook Birth Chart Analysis :

Moon Leo 1st house: He is unable to hide his true self and his emotions. Jungkook is someone that is very vocal about who he is, and doesn't like to hide what he has inside of him. So he can often come out as someone rude and full of himself, as he is someone that has high self-esteem and knows his worth. He is an exteriorized person, meaning that when he feels happy he shows it with laughter, when he is sad he shows it through crying and quietness and when he is angry he shows it through violence and recklessness. To finish, he also has a big heart, he is funny and naturally charming

Sun Virgo 2nd house: He is a money person, his whole identity and persona is based on how much he has and how much he can show to others. In other words, Jungkook is a hard worker since his image is something very important to him and he wouldn't be able to deal with the fact that he hasn't enough. He has a materialistic personality, but he is also an analyzer and very down to earth.

Mercury Virgo 2nd house: this is also tangled with his personality to say at best, Jungkook, like I said, is someone very materialistic, and he sees people, work,s and his life as such. He can sometimes be very picky with how he talks and has relationships. He wouldn't want to get mentally involved with someone "lower" than him. He has a mind for the business and he is quite smart as well. He plays dumb to get what he wants, but inside his brain, he has a whole plan.

Venus Libra 3rd house: Don't get fooled, this placement makes Jungkook an expert with words. He is able to seduce people through his voice, through the way he expresses himself. Usually, it's very easy for him to make people fall in love and to make a play out of others. Although he is a 50/50 when it comes to being a player in his life, Jungkook can easily get dependent on people that stimulate him mentally. He is able to make you believe whatever he wants.

Mars Scorpio 4th: He is extremely possessive of what is his. He is especially very attracted and protective of people he considered as his family and he would hurt anyone who tries to hurt his loved ones. Jungkook is an emotional actor, and his Moon in 1st House really makes him driven through emotions. He has a hard time controlling his feeling and always acts based on them. He has no chill whatsoever. Also when it comes to sexuality, he is a possessive lover, with kinks that are usually very rough, and harsh and can include pregnancy kinks.

Pluto Sagittarius 5th: He was made to be on stage, Jungkook has an incredible artistic side of himself due to his versatile way of being. He has enough resources to become however he wants, has a huge adaptation capacity and his sociable side also makes him very lucky in love and friendships. Other than that Jungkook is always innovating and changing who he is, adapting himself to the public eye (although this is also valable to his private life)

Neptune Capricorn 6th: Usually Neptune and the 6th house are a blessing and a curse at the same time. His mental health and his physical health are connected, so basically when he isn't in good mental condition, it will show in his physical health and vice versa. Jungkook as a bad habit of trying to control his condition, his life, and his routines but when Neptune is retrograde, he can easily get stuck in unhealthy pattern habits.

Uranus Aquarius 6th: This comes tangled with the Neptune placement because once more it talks about the way he tries to control his daily routines, however, he is always changing and getting new things to do. He just needs to have the perception that he is under control of his life. Also Jungkook doesn't really like routines, so he enjoys innovating and changing his life every now and then, as long as he is the one moving the cords

Jupiter Aquarius 7th: He is extremely lucky in love, he is able to attract people very easily, people fall under his charms like flies and he doesn't need to do much to get them hooked. However Jungkook also is someone that doesn't like to be trapped in relationships, so he gets easily bored of them and he prefers to have several experiences and enjoy his life. He loves love, sex, and relationships in general, he just doesn't like the responsibility that it impacts.

Empty Pisces 8th: This boy might sometimes use sex when he is in deep emotional turmoil. He gets easily upset when things don't go his way. Again this is more dealing with his controlling side. He can get easily desperate and In a bad state when things don't go according to the plan.

Saturn Aries 9th: He has a feverous belief, whether it's on god or any religion, he does believe that there's someone out there. Jungkook also has a very strong manifestation power, he is able tot make his dreams come true, also the Aries energy makes it even more strong when the emotions driven are anger and energy. He really is smart and has the potential to become someone who leads others

Empty Taurus 10th: Once more this placement shows how much money is important to him, how materialistic he is, and also how careless he is with managing his money. He doesn't invest, since he is too attached to loving luxury things, he spends a lot of money just for the public eye to recognize him.

Empty Gemini 11th: To be honest this placement shows two things. First that Jungkook isn't the type to be a very good friend, due to his multiple facets and secondly also he always ends up in friendships with people that are fake with him and usually around him for his positions. It's always relationships of interest

Empty Cancer 12th: He can get depressed and overly emotional easily, he doesn't deal well with stress, sadness and negative feelings in general. He can easily get emotionally overwhelmed by things which can create a whole "mea culpa" from his side.

[aldbooks]

Gwynriel angst prompt, “I’m tainted.” 👀

Sorry this took so long!

Prompt came from this list

This was meant to be a angst prompt but ended up with a bit of a happy ending...

Partial inspiration came from this song:

Btw if you don’t already know, this is, hands down, the best album Maroon 5 ever released

---

Azriel cursed himself for a fool as he stared down at the glass pendant in her hand. How had he ever thought that regifting a necklace meant for another was a good idea?

Of course, at the time, he'd never imagined that his feelings for Gwyn would ever become so tangled. Nor did he consider that she and Elain might one day meet and the origins of the anonymous gift become known...

"I..." he let his mouth hang open for a moment, praying that some intelligent words may finally fall out and, when they did not, he closed it again. What was there to say?

Gwyn merely held out her hand again for him to take the offending jewelry back. His arms moved mechanically, picking up the necklace. The delicate chain made a soft rasping noise as she dropped her hand away.

Closing his fingers around it, he momentarily contemplated crushing the glass in his fist. The feel of blood on his palm a reminder of what an idiot he was.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I never meant any harm..."

"I know," she said softly. "But I still don't feel right keeping it."

Dropping his hand, he looked up into her eyes. "I'll buy you something new. Something just for you-"

She stopped him with a hand. "You don't need to buy me anything, Azriel. I was grateful for the gift, even though it wasn't quite my style. It was nice to know someone had thought of me-"

Azriel felt a sharp stabbing in his chest and had to resist the urge to rub at the spot.

"-but I've never needed material things to make me happy. Truthfully I've never really owned much to get attached to things."

That was a sentiment Azriel was intimately familiar with. For most of his early years, all he'd ever owned were the clothes on his back. Even all these years later, he still sometimes had a hard time buying things for himself, let alone accepting gifts from others. Though he was a sentimental fool that kept every single thing he'd ever been given, including every horribly bad solstice gift from Morrigan.

That didn't stop the flicker of pain at her words. She wanted nothing from him. Why would she? She was far too good for him, just as he'd always known. Just as they always were. These females he chose to attach his affections to. What was wrong with him? Perhaps he was just a glutton for pain. It wouldn't surprise him.

He backed away a step and Gwyn must've read something of his thoughts in his face as she reached out, laying a hand on his arm to stop his retreat.

Her fingers dug into his leathers with surprising strength and there was an almost desperate quality to her stare that surprised him into stillness. Noting that he had stopped, Gwyn stepped towards him, closing the distance between them.

"All I ever wanted from you, Azriel," she said, now standing so close he hardly dared to breathe lest he scare her off. "Was you."

Azriel could've sworn his heart stopped in his chest at her words. Even as his mind read the sincerity in her face, that insidious voice in the darkest depths of his subconscious crept forward, casting doubt.

"You don't- you can't want that. Want me."

One copper brow cocked in a familiar look of challenge. "Why not?"

"Because I'm..." he glanced down at his hands, surprised to find that her fingers had somehow wound between his own. All he could see was the glaring differences between them. The dark, uneven skin of his own covered in scars and the blood of countless victims of his blades. The pale, freckled skin of hers with long, delicate fingers now covered in callouses from both the weapons and the pens she wielded with equal frequency.

"...I'm tainted." He hadn't meant for the words to slip out, and wanted to stuff them back inside, not wanting to expose such weakness. Her grip on his hand tightened, her other hand lifting to cup his jaw, drawing his attention back to her face. In her eyes, he saw not pity, but understanding.

"You are not tainted," she said, her tone fierce. "You are scarred, just as we all are in some way or other. But those scars do not make you lesser. They may seem ugly on their own but they're a part of you. I would not change any part of you. I want all of you, just as you are."

A knot formed in Azriel's throat and he swallowed tightly. He searched her face for any sign of disgust. He knew she knew what he was. What he did. She knew it in a way even his family had never really understood. Their relationship had always been a unique one. There had been many nights up here on this roof when she had caught him in moments of raw vulnerability. Nights when he was angry beyond reason. Nights when he was so numbingly cold he didn't feel like a person anymore.

She'd seen him rage, she'd seen him cold as death, she'd even seen him cry and she had never backed down from him, even his worst moods. No, she did not run from him when he shouted at her, spouting awful, foul things he never meant at her. She took his verbal beatings and gave them back to him.

From the moment they'd met, she'd never shown an aversion to him, just as she did not now. The truth of that hit him like a stone and he swayed closer to her, dazed. Like two magnets, they moved towards each other until their foreheads touched.

"You want me?" he asked, almost disbelieving but full of hope.

"Scars and all," she swore.

[greywitch]

ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS

C.C. idled beneath the tower as Kallen excused herself to use the bathroom. Her words lingered long after her footsteps and silhouette faded into the desert shadows. You sure you haven't made a habit of putting things off after living so long?

As she mulled over the response she never gave, the clanging of a metallic ladder--growing louder--interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over just in time to see Suzaku jump off the last two rungs onto the packed dirt, looking surprised.

"I have to say, C.C., I never thought I'd see you again."

C.C. smiled wryly. "Well, did you get everything off your chest?"

Suzaku had calmed considerably since they'd left the prison. If she had any concerns that he'd continue where he left off, they'd all but disappeared when she saw the softness with which he'd gazed upon Zero's unmasked face. The boy had already forgiven him--but that didn't necessarily extend to herself.

"I think so. Most of it anyway."

Suzaku still wasn't in the best shape, and it showed in the slow sauntering walk as he closed the distance between them. C.C. cast her gaze upward and caught the faint glow of Lelouch's PC as he paced and schemed. Even if she did want to speak to him, it would have to wait.

"What about you?"

C.C. blinked. Suzaku was a few steps away from her now, gazing at her curiously. "You must want to talk to him, after all the trouble you went through."

Assaulted by one and now the other. C.C. suppressed her chagrin as she offered Suzaku the same answer she'd given Kallen--silence. She turned toward the light, the festivities and familiar faces, in a clear gesture of disinterest.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Suzaku continued.

"About what?" C.C. was being difficult on purpose. Her hand came up to twirl her fingers in the ends of her hair as she watched Suzaku shake his head in her periphery.

"Come on. We're past that, aren't we? Shirley knew; so did Anya and Jeremiah, I heard." A pause. Suzaku lifted his head as if to check that Lelouch was still there, hadn't disappeared into the ether as he'd implied he could. "You could have told me."

Should have, seemed to be the unspoken sentiment. Yes, perhaps she should have, but she didn't because C.C. was a selfish creature who wasn't beholden to anyone.

"Could I?" she asked. She swung her head back toward him and held his inquisitive stare. Unlike the anger with which he'd initially greeted Lelouch, all she could see now was confusion and--perhaps--disappointment or something similar. "You thought you killed your best friend. And you did."

Suzaku had come to accept his actions long ago. He had grown; C.C. could see it though she could also see his jaw tighten and his body stiffen. "Lelouch was dead. There was nothing to tell. You could say it was a fool's errand."

Hopeless. C.C. was used to hopelessness and Sisyphean tasks. She had played many roles over the years, chameleon in nature, so it was not the physical demands of being Lelouch's caretaker that had worn on her. It was the fear. Fear only existed where there was hope. C.C. had no guarantees, not even Lelouch's blessing. Lelouch had never asked to live; C.C. had forced it upon him just as she had once bestowed him Geass in the hopes of ending her own meaningless existence. She had to endure this alone; it was her penance.

"You're just like him sometimes, you know. Don't know when to ask for help."

That made C.C. laugh. The light but somber breeze of her chuckle sat on the otherwise still air between them like a question followed by another: "Would you have helped me?"

Suzaku tilted his head to the side, thoughtful. His gaze shifted to the ground, the hint of a frown pulling at his brow. In the state that he was in immediately after the Zero Requiem, C.C. doubted he would have been capable of anything. Had he come to understand himself better in the intervening year?

"I don't know," he finally answered. "But I'm glad he's alive. So--thank you for that."

C.C. could count on one hand how many times she'd been thanked in the past century. Perhaps Suzaku was mocking her, but one look at his face and she could tell he was being genuine. "I didn't do it for you."

"I know. But still." Another beat of silence passed. Suzaku shifted his weight and pointed toward the party. As C.C. followed the direction of his finger, she caught Kallen having returned from her bathroom break now mingling with a crowd of Ohgi and other Black Knight members. "I'm going to get a drink. Want one? Looks like he's going to be up there for a while. And maybe you can tell me more about how he got here in the meantime."

C.C. was quiet as she considered his offer, feeling in his words a familiar strain of loneliness. It was a strange thing to be alone in a crowd. For a while, C.C. had sought solace in the Geass Order, and then Marianne. But everything was ephemeral, nothing lasted. Suzaku had forgiven her, it seemed, but had Lelouch?

Did Lelouch hate her? That question she'd often asked herself in the last moments of Zero Requiem now floated up in her mind again like ocean waste washing ashore. Well, it didn't matter. She had done this for herself, after all, her clinging to a promise he had made to her out of a moment of desperation. No one wanted to be alone, and C.C. was no exception. But Lelouch, at least, wasn't alone. He had returned to where he belonged, his friends and family, and it was time that C.C. did as well. Seeing him alive and happy was enough for her.

She leaned off the steel beam supporting her and walked toward her other once co-conspirator.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, content to pretend for the moment that she belonged in this scene of celebration and reunion.

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠) this time I bring you angst heheh, it's a LuciferxGn!Mc and it's from Lucifer's point of view!

I'll keep my distance💙

It wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't love for a long time, I'm certain. When you appeared in front of me and looked at my eyes, afraid but fierce, confused but determined, it wasn't love back then.

That time you protected Beelzebub from me, you stood firmly on the ground, your body betrayed you, you fainted but never tried to run. “What a fool.” I thought. I called you and you came, I saw you and you saw me. It wasn't love.

You helped my family, you helped me. You didn't have to, but you did. Gratitude but not love.

The little talks about the human world, the first time I saw you genuinely smile, your laugh echoing through the dining room. You brought me coffee and food to my office. Charming, refreshing even. But it wasn't love.

You were contemplating a single rose in your hand. “Do you like flowers?” I asked, perhaps I could bring you some. “Of course! It's a shame they die too soon, isn't it?” you were holding that rose as if it were your most precious belonging, you looked at it with love and yearning, gratitude and respect, who knows why you would feel something like that for a rose. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you tilted your head and I saw my eyes reflected in yours, it was the same gaze you had a few moments ago. It was love. “Yes, it is a shame.” I replied, and I couldn’t help but berate myself. “What a fool.”

I threatened you over and over again, I could have killed you. My hands are dirty, I can see the red stains sometimes, but not roses, nothing so fragile as that.

I bought you a bouquet of roses, but it never left my office. Every day I watch them die, I see their vitality leave and their color fade. The first day their fragrance was all over the place, now I can barely smell it. They will die soon.

As you watched the flowers bloom, you murmured. “They are too beautiful and unattainable! Ugh!” you dropped your shoulders, a sigh escaped from your lips. Your soul is so pure, so strong and bright and I'm left wondering, am I worthy of you? Would I be worth enough if I were still an angel? Could I ever have the opportunity to reach you?

Your roses died and a week later you had a new bouquet. Your gaze held the same sentiment.

So I'll keep my distance from you and your smile that one day will fade, distance from your eyes whose color will vanish. Away from you, you that will die too soon.

For I won't be able to find someone like you in the next week or the next century, not in all the eternity.

Thanks for reading!

I have a peculiar love for flowers. (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[a-b-riddle]

False Vows: Chapter One

Evelyn

I get why some people give themselves self-inflicted wounds. Maybe it's the masochism that comes along with loving a man like James, but it's euphoric centralizing the internal pain elsewhere. Although, where some used razors or snapping rubber bands against their skin, I let James get underneath mine.

I was his willing victim. I took whatever shred of affection he gave me in the form of fucking me roughly into our mattress, like he was right now. I'll have bruises on my hips tomorrow by the way his fingers dig into my flesh. Scattered love marks with go down my neck and chest leading resorting me to wear make up or even a scarf around the staff. Humiliating, but that was always his goal.

In a few minutes he'll cum, not worrying about whether or not I've climaxed too. Sometimes I do. It feels earth shattering in the moment. But once he pulls himself away after he's done he'll head to the shower and I hear the sound of the shower running, my world shatters again in a completely different and familiar way. He'll spend the next few minute scrubbing the feel of me off of his skin.

James doesn't kiss me. He did about eighteen months ago, but hasn't since. He doesn't hold me after sex or even while we sleep; very visible no man's land between us. He doesn't come to my side of the bed and by now I knew better than go to his.

I have a husband who hates me. It's so painfully obvious I would be a fool to think otherwise. He never fucks me because he wants to. I'm not just something to keep his bed warm. He looks to a certain Carter girl for that. No I have a greater purpose apparently.

The man has been obsessed with getting me pregnant since we got married. It took a while to realize the window for knocking me up was a limited one, he tracked my cycles.

He had the chef prepare meals that would best benefit me hormonally and if I believed for a second it was because he honestly wanted to have a family, the sentiment would be endearing. Instead, it makes me feel like livestock getting ready to be bred. I had to sneak out of the house just to get something that didn't taste like fucking wheatgrass.

It hadn't even worked. Two miscarriages in eighteen months of marriage. After how colder than usual James had acted after the first one, I didn't tell him about the second. I silently mourned the loss of our second child, just as I did the first.

The sound of the shower comes to a stop. It'll take him less than five minutes to dry off, brush his teeth and come to bed.

His hair is still damp, but he was meticulous in making sure not a single square inch of his body was wet. He was sure to rid his body of angry lingering scent I may have had on him even though the room wreaked of sex. His body wasn't marked like I knew mine was. I didn't even need to look at the damage that had been done. James pinned my hands down on the mattress following the time I had dared to scratch his back while lost in ecstasy.

Who knew fucking my husband was the least intimate thing I would ever do with another person?

He scrolls on his phone. Looking at what, I don't know and I don't care. Suddenly, the feel of his so close and so far is too much. Almost two years of this is suddenly too fucking much. I had planned to do this earlier, having prepared a long and thought out speech on why this was for the best. I'd tell him over dinner.

But he didn't show up. His food that Maria had set out had turned cold. He came two hours later. A meeting ran late. I wish he wouldn't lie. I already knew he was fucking other women. He didn't even deny it when I first confronted him about how the papers ran stories about him and her.  He laughed and told me to stop being ridiculous.

Sounds played from his phone, no doubt he was scrolling through reels or tik tok. Still didn't care. The constant changing of sounds and the constant sound of his breathing slowing down, indicating he would soon be asleep was too much.

I pulled the covers off of me and threw on the oversized shirt he had pulled off of me earlier. My panties had probably slipped on his side of the bed where the usually landed after he all but tore them off my body. I got a pair of old Christmas pajama shorts that I had in what James referred to as my "grubby" clothes. He tried buying clothes two years ago that had me feeling like a beached whale. Even with the weight I lost out into consideration, I still felt disgusting in them. Even more so when James was around and not a single part of me felt beautiful.

Which is why I should have spoken my piece instead of letting him fuck me.

Pathetic.

"Where are you going?" He didn't ask until I headed toward our bedroom door. I looked back at the bed to see he hadn't taken even taken his eyes off of his phone. The screen light reflecting in his terrifyingly beautiful eyes.

Those eyes that I wish for once in our time together wouldn't be filled with so much hate. Did he ever look at me without resentment? Did he even look at me when we had sex?

I thought the next five words would make me choke. "I want a divorce, James."  I shut the door behind me before I could look at his face.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him knowing I would be met with a bemused expression. James had never brought up the prospect of divorce, but he had showed it in so many unsavory ways both in private and public.

Images of James and model, Sharon Carter, were the primary reason I gave up Instagram. Tiktok was more tame, but it didn't help when tabloids loved the story about a philandering billionaire and his recluse heiress of a wife.

Eventually, it got so bad I had to stop going out in public. The gnawing shame I felt every time someone side-eyed me standing next to James as if I didn't belong there. They were always right.

I slept in the guest room down the hall. James never followed.

...

I didn't cry myself to sleep like I thought I would, mourning over my complete failure as a wife. Instead I didn't feel anything. Not sadness or remorse at my words. Not even anger for everything James and his family had put me through. Hell, not even numbness.

My first thought wasn't even a replay of last night's events. I thought about my impending deadline. I needed to check my e-mails and get ready to print out the copies of my latest book to those I selected to get ARCs. Fuck I needed an assistant.

But anytime I thought about it I thought about my anonymity being ruined. No. I didn't have a job outside of writing. I could do the work. My work didn't merit difficult enough to need an assistant anyway.

"Mrs. Evelyn." I heard Maria's voice on the other side of the door. Evelyn. Not Mrs. Barnes. James was sure to correct the staff anytime they said otherwise. I didn't care. I would have preferred if they just called me Evelyn. "Will you be taking breakfast downstairs with Mr. Barnes?"

The question gave me the same shock as if she had just dumped cold water on the bed. It's 9:30. What the fuck was James still doing home on a Monday?

I didn't bother returning to the master bedroom to freshen up. Nothing I do would have been good enough. I could have my hair curled and a full face of makeup and James would find something to criticize.

I tried to steady my heart as I went past Maria and headed downstairs. There was no way James would stay home unless something had happened. No. She was wrong. James probably had ran late and was running out the door and assumed he would stick around for breakfast.

But

He's home.

James Barnes enjoys missing work as much as I like going to the dentist. The man is more married to his job than me. So seeing him shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of joggers was surprising to say the least.

"You're home." I said as my eyes tried to refrain from soaking in his god-like body. Fuck, it wasn't fair for someone to be that attractive.

"I do live here." He said, not taking his eyes off his phone. "My first meeting isn't until 2 so I figured we could discuss whatever the fuck that was last night." His eyes flickered to mine. "You and I both know there is only one way out of this marriage."

"Death?" The sarcasm leeching from mouth surprised both of us. "Because being married to you comes pretty damn close." His cold eyes flashed to me. James had never laid a hand on me, but the man was intimidating. But I stood barefoot in the kitchen, unmoved and not afraid.

"A marriage you wanted, Evelyn." His hateful gaze narrowed at me and it was like he was trying to imagine me bursting into flames on the spot. "Or have you forgotten your vows?"

"You obviously have." I shot back. "I've stopped guessing which nights you actually have business to attend to and the nights you're fucking Sharon Carter." I went to pass him, headed toward the fridge to heat up whatever speciality meal the chef had prepared for today when he reached out and gripped my arm.

Hard.

His voice was low and threatening as he warned me not to mention Sharon to him again. Okay. Now a little afraid. "Let go of me." I ordered, my voice surprisingly unwavering. His grip didn't loosen. "You're hurting me." I bit, but didn't flinch from the feeling of his fingers digging into my arm. More bruises courtesy of James Barnes although these were far less pleasant.

It only took James eighteen months of a loveless marriage to hurt me. Physically at least. He released my arm. "Do your job, have a baby and we can both go our own separate ways." He downed the rest of his coffee "Those are the terms, in case you've forgotten them."

We never had terms in regard to our marriage. To love and honor, sickness and health and all that bullshit was there. All things he failed to do. But suddenly having a kid was that important to him. Did this fuck head not realize having a kid was pointless when it meant tying you to someone he hated for the rest of his life?

"I have a business dinner tonight." He said standing up, leaving his empty mug on the counter before heading out of the "Don't wait up."

He was out before I could tell him that he and his terms could fuck off. I didn't need his permission to leave this marriage.

Fuck. Him.

[sassysoulstranger]

Michael Afton x Charlotte Emily (Siren) AU

Mermaids are nymphs of the sea who deceive sailors with their great beauty and the sweetness of their song; from head to navel they have the body of a virgin and a human shape, but they have a scaly fish tail which they always hide in the sea.

But do not be fooled by their beauty, they are a symbol of bad luck. They can swim through fresh water to reach rivers and lakes to drown their victims, making you think they are drowning people. They are rumoured to be able to cure diseases.

Many legends told by sailors say that they are large monsters, up to 600m long, capable of sinking ships without leaving a trace.

What makes them feared is their beautiful voice, which can hypnotise you. So sweet, tender and melodious, it is said that they inhabit the islands and lure sailors with such a song, causing them to collide with the reefs and drag them to the depths of the ocean to eat them.

-Sirens…- he murmured, deep in thought. He leaned against the railing and read an old book that the librarian, Henry Emily, had recommended to him. He doesn't believe in such things, but for a boat trip like this, it's something to keep him entertained.

He almost dropped the book into the sea It was just Jeremy smiling mockingly at him with a mop in his hand, he frowned and sighed.

-I just wanted to take my mind off things, it's boring just looking at the horizon- He wasn't lying, there was just water, water and more water, not a sign of another boat or rocks.

-Genius, if you are so bored you can clean the gunwale yourself. Your only job is to make sure we don't go straight into the reefs and sink the boat- Jeremy continued scrubbing the floor with more intensity.

-I was in charge of cleaning the gunwale before you, I have a lot more boat experience than you- he mocked his friend, sticking out his tongue and laughing with him, his attention returning to the ocean and a peace filling him at the stillness of the water.

-How long do you think it will take us to get home?- Jeremy was standing next to him now, admiring the ocean in the same way, although unlike him, he seemed a little anxious.

-Michael watched the dolphins chasing each other in the distance, but I'm pretty sure it'll only take us three days to get there.

-What do you base that on?

-Well, I've been sailing the same boat with Dad for years, let's just say that in these areas where there are dolphins it would take us three days to see land, and if we had a mishap it would take us another day- they were silent for a long time.

Jeremy cleared his throat-I mean, sometimes the sailors in the harbour talk about ships disappearing lately, and in a way I was a bit nervous when I got on this boat.

-So why did you come?- Jeremy leaned his arms on the railing and looked down to see his blurred silhouette in the water.

-I hate being called a not real man every time we say goodbye at the harbour, I'm always the laughing stock of most of the citizens, they've even given me a nickname like faggot- Michael softened his gaze as he saw tears peeking out of his friend's eyes, -even my mother thinks that, it makes me feel hurt, I don't want her to be disappointed in me.

Michael put his hand on his friend's back to comfort him.

-Hey, most of the assholes you meet on the docks are drunk shits who've been divorced more than three times, it's not like they're the pride of the town. I like you a lot better than all of them, and just because you're a wimp or too sentimental doesn't make you any less of a man, you're a great mate just the way you are.

Unexpectedly, Jeremy hugged Michael with tears in his eyes but a big smile on his face, which made him laugh and return the hug. They parted in a comfortable silence, Michael now telling little anecdotes of his father's travels. From the most peaceful to the most terrifying he had ever experienced in his life.

They were now in the cabins where Jeremy was staying, Michael sitting next to Jeremy's bed, who was leaning curiously on the book Michael had on the table.

-Do you believe in mermaids?- the question surprised him.

-Why the question?

-I've seen you reading the same page all day, you didn't even notice me when I was cleaning near you,Jeremy grabbed the book and looked for the page he was talking about -Right here, unless you have some unknown fetish- he looked at him flirtatiously as he wiggled him eyebrows up and down, causing Michael to laugh.

-Stop- he grab the book between laughs and look at the page with the silhouette of a mermaid, his expression softening a little- I'm just curious, the librarian talks a lot about mermaids, every time I go to get some books for the trip he warns me about them Not that I believe in such things, I've never seen one or another craft warn of them.

-Perhaps those who heard them are in the depths of the ocean- Jeremy scoffed -that would explain the disappearance of many ships.

-Of course, if you take away the fact that many idiots believe that the ocean is a game and that they should take every little warning lightly.- Both young men were startled to see William leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a threatening look on his face -If you've stopped playing games, I'll need you to start securing the knots, Michael.

-Yes, sir- Michael said, a little discouraged, but he got up immediately and walked out of the cabins.

-I suggest you get some sleep, Jeremy- William spoke more calmly now -we'll start early tomorrow, I don't want any delays.

-Yes, sir- William gave him a nod before closing the door and heading for the cellar.

.

.

.

Michael could still hear the lively music and laughter of some of the sailors from inside the ship, at this time of night it was common for some of them to take the liberty of relaxing, and he could also secure the things on the gunwale more quietly without distraction.

The night was beautiful, the moon illuminating everything around him and the sea was clear. He checked each of the assigned knots, that nothing was out of place, that everything was in order, that it would be safe while the rest of the crew slept, that the night watchmen would not have to worry about the rest.

Michael continued on his way until he reached the side of the ship where he admired the beauty of the moon, the icy breeze and the movement of the waves.

He wanted to admire the beauty of the scenery before returning to get ready for bed, but in addition to the loud sound of the passing waves, a melody could be heard in the distance.

It was high pitched, the more he concentrated on finding its source the closer he could hear it, a fleeting thought crossed his mind that it was a mermaid, it couldn't be just any animal, it sounded like a woman's song and it was coming from the sea.

Michael moved closer to the shore and saw something moving through the water, the silhouette looked human and was moving in circles. Her singing grew louder and the silhouette in the water now seemed to be swimming to the surface.

Then he saw her, a slender, fair-skinned woman with beautifully straightened auburn hair. She was singing in a lulling coo, almost heavenly to anyone's ears, and Michael was impressed by what he saw.

Her cooing stopped and she looked up at him, her eyes glowing in the dark, he wasn't sure what colour they were, but she looked frightened to see him. The silence seemed to last forever between the two of them, just admiring each other, until the sound of footsteps behind Michael scared the girl away.

-Wait!- He could see no trace of her, as if she had never been there.

-Mr Afton, your father sent me to make sure everything is all right- Michael did not answer,-Mr Afton?

-It's all right, Dave.- Michael didn't dare look him in the eye and walked into the cabin.

He didn't wait for an answer and hurried back to his quarters, something about this night didn't feel real. The woman's face would not leave his mind.

[myalchod]

for the three sentences fic: andylind + marriage of convenience (yes i'm quite late to it)

Quite late but I don't care in the slightest -- seriously, for this or for any other such ask meme, there is no wrong time. I love prompts basically always ... and unlike some of those others, I'm not taking a trillion years to fill this one for you. 😘

Their vows had been said in a small, utilitarian room, their marriage born of practicalities and realised on paper alone for contingencies that might never come to be -- not when he lives now a world away from where their too-brief time together had been spent, wearing a different name and a different identity and the past hanging a stubborn millstone around his neck, far heavier than a simple ring and an equally plain chain have any right to be. She had eyed him askance when he’d bought that ring and his own, when he’d insisted on marking what meant far more to him than he was willing to give voice, but she had slipped the unadorned band onto finger nonetheless, the brush of her skin against his far softer than he had imagined it could be, and he is glad of it in hindsight, when the shape of it smooth beneath the pad of his thumb is a tangible reminder not just of what was but of what will be, the promise she had sworn to him when he’d seen her last, before blood and lightning and fire rent his world asunder.

(He imagines, sometimes, what might have been -- imagines her here with him, fair head bent close to Bea’s dark one with lightning crackling above their cupped hands, imagines discovering what other softness she might have hidden -- and he knows those possibilities owe more to dreams than any sense of realism, knows her far better than perhaps anyone else alive, all too aware that she would consider sentiment an aberration and that this is a matter of convenience, but that does not stop him from dreaming, wondering, hoping that one day she will return and that, one day, this will mean more, though he knows she would call him a fool for it; even if it means nothing more to her, those vows, along with all of the others he has given her, remain everything to him -- and how could they not, how could she not, when he gave everything up for her?)

[ send me another ] [ all fills ]