#stopped dead intending to finish and simply Didn't

[daggersandarrows]

having just sort of a Night

[shantechni]

Aight, so this is something I intended to make a post about eons ago before making a bunch of posts related to it, but some things happened. Anyways-

The night Leo meets Karai, or rather is ambushed by her, he's thrown for a loop by her unprecedented decision to leave before she could easily finish him off. He's almost instantly putting an unreasonable amount of trust in her after that single interaction, and you can't entirely blame the guy since she was making no attempt to kill him while exuding her mischievous nature and taunting him like they've been buddies for years. Her behavior loosened him up in a way he normally couldn't be because of his duties as a leader. Of course, the situation greatly escalates from there as one thing leads to another, and the turtles are faced with the moral dilemma of accepting Karai for their familial connection with her or shunning her like any other enemy they know as she takes almost any chance she could get to hold a tantō to their necks.

Although none were more expressive with their distrust of her than Raph, there is something interesting to take note of.

Raph is the first to find out about Karai's existence and the evidently one-sided "friendship" Leo has with her, but rather than immediately go on the offensive with Karai (extremely surprising considering she had Leo pinned to the roof right when he arrived) or accuse Leo of any wrongdoing, he simply demands an explanation from his brother. Raph observed the situation with a level head and didn't judge Leo for anything other than seeming too blasé about Karai being a Foot clan member, or for saying she wasn't intent on killing him when she threw a weapon at his head. Other than that, he kept the matter between him and Leo since it didn't seem to be a pressing issue at the moment. His trouble with Karai only really began in the next episode when he witnesses Leo needlessly showing off in front of her and even going out of his way to hide her from Splinter, Donnie, and Mikey.

Nothing's stopping Raph from telling everyone, and he certainly doesn't trust Karai enough to leave things as they are, but he puts his faith in Leo and nudges him to come clean about his new found friend twice to their brothers at least. Soon after being told that Karai was 'taken care of' (something he called total BS on), he reaches his boiling point once he discovers her following them, and his frustrations are worsened by Leo going out of his way to defend Karai when she's spelling trouble for them. As to be expected, Leo is forced to confess after she lands them in hot water and leaves them for dead while running off with a Kraang bot, but once Splinter gives him a much needed lecture, Raph forgives him and seemingly stays out of his face about the ordeal. At least until Karai approaches them with a proposition to combine their forces and fight the Kraang, something he surely would've put up more of a fight to shoot down had the others, namely Leo, not agreed to her offer after she helped them fight the Kraang stealth ship.

All of those instances, when combed through for the little things, are some of the first details the writers gave us to show a major distinction between Leo and Raph.

Raph's temper is so front and center throughout the series that the amount of patience he exercises in response to Leo's asinine decisions and trains of thought (especially early on) has a tendency of being overshadowed. He constantly, and openly, shunned the idea of Karai ever siding with them since he couldn't find it in himself to readily trust her like everyone else could, and even after learning who her real father is, he continued to question the possibility of Karai ever turning out to be good when considering her upbringing. But he still went along with Leo's wishes to help and go so far to befriend her because he knew his brother was simply trying to help someone out of the kindess of his heart at the end of the day, and Leo's only further spurred by her being their sister.

This isn't exclusive to their development with Karai, because we see later on that Raph exercised a far greater amount of that patience when Slash made his theatrical return to the team midway through S3.

One could make the argument that the writers should've had the midseason two parter focus the slightest bit more on Raph's POV since Slash used to be his pet and Leo was the only one unwilling to believe he'd changed since their last encounter, but I'd say with certainty that the minuscule amount of input we received from him is just the right amount of focus we needed. Raph doesn't blow up at Leo for his treatment of Slash because he knows his suspicions aren't baseless, and he doesn't go out of his way to prove Slash's innocence to Leo (Mikey kind of does that for him lol); he only decided to step in when the two couldn't decide on what plan to proceed with. He plainly moves aside and allows Slash to prove Leo wrong through his own efforts, all while undoubtedly believing since their last encounter that Slash isn't bad anymore and that Leo would eventually come around to make that same conclusion.

The complete opposite of Leo's stubborn behavior when it came to Karai.

Look at Leo's face, he's so silly, a goofy goober if you will

Even though she went on to turn her back on Shredder, and essentially prove that Leo was right, Raph wasn't wrong to take so much time to see Karai as a trustworthy ally. He recognized that it wasn't enough for her to just be borderline friendly and fight on the same side as them; legitimate effort needed to be put forth for them to warm up to someone like her, and her track record didn't exactly suggest that she'd readily put in that effort. Leo's fixation with turning the tables on Shredder and making things right with Splinter practically blinded him from that simple little truth though. Of course, he learned the error of his ways and clearly followed in Raph's footsteps when confronting Slash and anyone else they'd cross paths with that posed a potential threat, sometimes tending to go too deep into that mindset when he was upset with Fugitoid and Usagi.

They both learned a little bit of something from each other along the way, but the difference in how Leo and Raph grow to perceive the matter of trusting someone is so fascinating to me.

[lemonade4wanda]

Jealousy

Wanda Maximoff x reader ☆

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - pretty much is what it says on the tin. After you try to avoid your crush you find jealousy eating at you.

Warnings: stupid, possibly cringe, maybe a little angst? Idrk, happy ending, jealousy, gay,

A/n: this is the first fic I've written since I was thirteen and I did it just to avoid being involved with my parents fight. Also my grammar probably isn't that great bc I haven't slept in 2 days so pls comment any corrections. Any feedback is so so appreciated

You didn't know when it had started. How even. But you had somehow become infatuated with fellow avenger and best friend Wanda maximoff. To put it simply you had a crush on her, a stupid schoolgirl crush that was beginning to crash down on your friendship with her.

It was small things at first, avoiding eye contact so you wouldn't blush under her gaze or not sitting next to her at meals. Next it was finding reasons not to hang out alone.

Little to your knowledge Wanda had noticed all these things and had begun to wonder if she'd upset you in someway that maybe you didn't like her the way she'd always admired you. She tried to approach you to go out for lunch to try and apologise for whatever she thought you were upset about but before she'd had chance to speak you'd scurried off saying something about needing to train.

And so life went on for Wanda as heartbroken she was that you seemed to want to distance the close friendship youd shared that she'd once thought could be more she didn't want to spend forever alone and crushed.

Thats when your jealousy started.

"Yeah the date actually went really well last night." You'd heard the sweet sokovian accent ring out across the kitchen as you'd shuffled into get your breakfast. Still half asleep you mumbled as you poured a coffee.

"You've got a date?" It came out a little more territorial than you'd intended. Despite your small efforts to dissipate your crush on the woman you were still annoyed at whoever thought they could date the girl you liked, that you should be with.

Not that you were looking at her but Wandas face seemed to light up when you initiated a conversation with her. After weeks of dead silence she'd want nothing more than to hear your voice which she'd describe as honey like and melodic to the ears.

"Yes, yes I am. A second one actually." You could feel your face redden slightly and twitch in annoyance at the words that left Wanda's lips. A second?! Not only had she had one date with someone else it had gone so well they wanted a second.

"You shouldn't go out with them." The words leave your lips quicker than you can stop them. And you look to see Wanda's face, her mouth open wide as her bottom lip twitched slightly.

Shit. You'd upset her. You'd upset the girl you loved. "I... I.. I mean.." You stammered through your sentence trying to find an exscuse for what you'd said. "I just mean.. your an avenger you should do a background check on them first and.. uh.. make sure you know they're legit and not a spy or something." After saying that you quickly fled the kitchen leaving your full cup of coffee much to the confusion of Wanda who'd had just about enough of the way you were acting.

That evening you were in your room catching up on a drama you'd originally started with Wanda but since you'd decided youd ruined your friendship beyond recovery you wanted to finish it yourself.

Then came a small delicate knock on the door. That was how Wanda knocked. Oh god you recognised how she knocked now, how would you ever get over her?

"I'm working go awa-.." You tried to get out quickly at the door as you rapidly turned the tv down and hoped she'd leave you alone.

Before you were even done your sentence she'd interuppted and responded. "Don't say another word. I can hear killing eve (srry I can't think of another tv show) playing in there. Let me in so we can talk."

You waited a beat thinking about the small list options you had right now to avoid the confrontation at your door, none of which would work or were very smart and would probably be more embarrassing than admitting the truth. So reluctantly you let her in. Twisting the handle slowly giving her all the time she needed to change her mind and leave.

Unfortunately that didn't happen and instead she waited patiently before heading over to your bed a flopping down on it in the ever so casual way she used to. As if no time has passed.

"Okay speak. Tell me whats wrong? What did I do to you?" She asks looking up at you with what looks like anger? No, no it was hurt. Everything from her wide watery eyes to her sweaty palms read that she was hurt and was nervous to why you'd been avoiding her.

"Its not you." Was all you could manage to spit out in the moment. Why had you even avoided her so much when all it had done was harm your best friend.

"Okay so what is it?"

She was relentless, she wasn't going to leave until you explained yourself and your recent actions. Being honest you couldn't blame her if it was the other way round you'd want to know.

"I..." You stare at her gorgeous face eyes flicking between her plump lips and her soft, glimmering eyes even in this moment struggling to make eye contact with her without a blush spreading across your cheeks. "I like you.. as like more than friends."

You watched on as her face contorted. The way she bit the inside of her cheek and her soft eyes hardening in time with your admittal. The hurt was long gone and replaced with an annoyance that you had blanked her instead of admitting your feelings but also a small glimmer of hope that it wasn't too late for you two.

"So what? You didn't think to tell me." She gets up from the bed. "Your rational descion was to ignore me in hopes of what?!" She was pacing now. "In hopes of what?" She repeats and suddenly your also stood up trying to open your mouth to speak but she won't give you the time. "In hopes I'd dissappear or your feelings would and we could just be friends again?"

Meekly you nodded. You had ignored her to try and make your feelings go away.

"Did you not think about me? Maybe I wanted you to have feelings for me. Maybe I want to be with you." She was speaking again and nearing you with each word.

"I.. didn't think you liked me like that.. I thought that you'd hate me."you try and explain my poor actions. "Look I'm really sorry.. I didn't know you felt like this about me."

You grab her arm forcing her to stop angrily pacing around the room and to talk to you again hoping it would calm her slightly. "..please I am. I'm really sorry Wanda.. I've missed speaking to you so much, I've missed you so much." Your further apologies seem to lessen her anger as she realises what you had done was unintentional and you'd never meant to cause this.

"You can make it up to me then."

"How?" She was offering to forgive you and that was enough. You'd do anything to stop her being angry with you ever again.

"Take me on a date."

A/n - I can write a pt 2 or follow up if anyone is interested <33

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

The Heart of Your Home Pt 6

Summary: Arthur comes across a woman in need. What he thought was a simple good deed would take him down a much further path than anticipated.

Warnings: Tension, cursing, smut

Word Count: 6,743

A/N: The long awaited chapter of this! With a new job under my belt it's become easier to write. Have fun my Arthur stans!

Nervous fingers tensed and uncurled endlessly around the worn leather reins, something Arthur had been doing since he left the humidity of Lemoyne behind to the cooler, crisper air of New Hanover once again. The familiar pines and jagged peaks of Ambarino appeared in the distance the closer he and his horse approached. 

He inhaled the fifth cigarette he’s had in the past two hours. The earthy taste long gave way to bitterness and ash, and all it achieved was the burning ache in his lungs. The damn leaf stick did nothing to soothe his nerves. 

The closer he got to your house, the more his heart pounded. The more his stomach roiled. The more his thoughts screamed at him to turn around.  But he kept going, kept moving. Kept along the path he’d become all too familiar with. 

The conversation played in his head. He planned to keep it short and simple; a quick explanation that didn’t give too much away, but enough to hopefully not keep you wondering about him. He tried hard not to think of how you’d react. Would you be disappointed? Sad? Angry?...Maybe relieved? 

He stopped himself short of that thought, knowing he damn well shouldn't even be considering what you'd feel. This visit would be final. Cutting the cord and leaving you to live the life you intended if he'd never intervened. 

But you'd be dead if he hadn't intervened the first time... 

He sighed heavily, flicking the half-finished cigarette to the ground. Strangers came and went all the time in his life, stumbling across them in their endeavors before they requested some odd favor or another. Sometimes there would be a second encounter, maybe even a third. None of which ever led to this point. 

His stallion’s head perked, ears pricked forward as if recognizing where they were, just before Arthur veered off the main path toward the little homestead. The horse nickered in excitement, and Arthur almost smiled. His steed had made a friend of the mare, and a small pang followed knowing they too would no longer be...friends. 

It was only a short moment before the house loomed through the trees. The stallion naturally tried to tug toward the barn in the back, but Arthur kept the reins steady, steering them forward to the front of the house. “Sorry, boy,” he murmured before coming to a halt just before the porch steps. He stared up at the house, his heart suddenly racing beneath his ribs. His hand reached for his satchel, subconsciously wanting another cigarette but instead found purchase on a bottle neck. He pulled it free, uncorking the whiskey and taking a swig, the flavor immediately washing away the remaining taste of the cigarette. 

What was wrong with him? Needing courage to simply talk to you was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. He put the alcohol away and dismounted, slowly trudging up the steps to the front door. It occurred to him that he didn't even know if you were home or not, and he probably ought to have checked the barn for the mare beforehand. 

He hesitated with the thought of what if your husband was home too? That would be beyond awkward. 

He pulled the screen door away, raised his fist and knocked once, twice, three times, and waited, his ears straining for any movement on the opposite side. It was quiet, and for some reason that made his anxiety worse. He was about to turn around when the door creaked open. Arthur stood rooted, his eyes snapping to your figure in the threshold. 

His breath caught, suddenly forgetting everything he meant to say. Since his realization last night, you had been in his thoughts whether he wanted you to or not, it was just hard to push away. 

But as soon as his eyes met yours, a rock settled in his stomach. There was a stoic, cool expression on your face, lips pressed in a thin line as your gaze shifted slightly to break away from his. There was a subtle change to your expression, one that reminded him of...apprehension. 

“Hello, Arthur,” you said in a tone void of all familiarity. “May I help you with something?” 

The reaction caught him off guard. “Uh,” he huffed out, eyes briefly sliding to his feet. “I...wanna talk to ya about somethin’. May I?” 

There was a brief hesitation, but you gave a small nod and stepped aside, gesturing for entrance. He released a small breath and stepped through the threshold, his gaze sweeping over the familiar interior. He'd gotten so used to the warmth and the air filled with a savory scent, that it surprised him it was absent this time around. The door closed, and his attention moved to you. 

The way you moved was both stiff and swift, gliding over to the window overlooking the sink. The counters were bare, no pot simmering on the stove. The air, as cold as it was, felt thick with tension. Or was that his imagination? 

The silence grew, and Arthur couldn't muster up the words. He stared at your back, your shoulders hiked up as you pressed your hands against the edge of the sink. Every inch of your body was tense, as if you were just expecting bad news. Have you somehow figured out his intention for this visit? He highly doubted it, but he had to wonder... 

No, no more wayward thoughts. He mentally scolded himself. Just get over it, you idiot. 

Taking a breath, he said your name. “I wanna tell you something...” he started out. 

The speed of which you whipped around to face him caught him by surprise, your face alight with anger. “Have you come to tell me that you're a criminal on the run from the law?!” 

His breath punched out from his chest. His first instinct was to deflect, but from the look on your face, this wasn't a speculation. You'd somehow found out the truth.  

A fleeting memory brushed his mind. A man of the name Jimmy Brooks in Valentine who recognized him simply because they were both in Blackwater during the failed heist. Arthur chased him down, nearly pushed him off a cliff and helped him back up at the last second, but not without leaving a permanent impression of his character. 

He couldn't do that to you. Hell, he couldn't even fathom having an inkling of a harmful thought toward you. 

What could he do? Nothing. Nothing rational, really. There was no talking his way out of this, no threat to hang over you for holding a heavy truth. With the looming pressure of the Pinkertons on their heels is what drove them further east, how likely would it be that everyone would have to up and move AGAIN? 

Would you turn him in? 

You stared him down expectantly, as if waiting for the defense. Instead, he took a deep breath and finally responded. “So, you know.” 

“I know,” you repeated, your glare sharpening. 

“How?” He asked. 

“I was just in Blackwater, with my cousin. I saw your wanted poster,” every word slid out heated. “I can't believe I let you into my house, multiple times! Were you planning to rob me, kill my husband or—” 

“No,” his answer was sharp, but his posture remained still. “I...” he trailed off, wondering exactly how to even defend his actions for his repeated visits. 

Your eyes narrowed. “I don't believe you,” you hissed, hands gripping the edge of a nearby chair. “Your poster said you committed some heinous crimes, how am I to believe you just came around for—for stew?!” 

More than stew, he wanted to say. But that was pointless to even bring up. His gaze kept steady on you, observing the anger that was nearly tangible, rolling off you in waves. It churned his stomach the way you stared daggers at him, and he inwardly scolded himself. It shouldn't matter. Hell, this process might've just made it easier for him to cut it off now between the two of you, before it got more painful for either side. 

“Y’ gonna get the Pinkertons?” He asked before the question even fully formed in his mind. “Turn me in? I'm sure that $5,000 reward would be more than enough for you n’ Frederick.” 

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. You reeled back on your heels as if his words slapped you, your eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to that cold hard scowl. “I should,” you growled. “From what I've heard, you and your...gang caused a lot of mayhem and death.” 

Arthur gave a half shrug. “Never said I was a Saint,” he chuckled darkly. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

“Disappoint? More like horrify!” You exclaimed. “All this time I've had a wanted man in my home,” you shook your head. “I should've known after that day...with the O’Driscolls...” 

The memory of the bloody massacre that occurred just outside of Valentine flickered to life. The shock on your face when you’d learned he killed at least a dozen of them and got away with non life-threatening injuries. 

“Only to find out you’re no different!” 

That caused Arthur to jolt. “I ain't nothin’ like those Irish bastards!” He exclaimed. “They kidnap n’ kill for fun, n’ a lot worse if they get the goddamned chance!” 

“And you don't?!” You demanded. 

“Course not,” he growled. “I'm mean, nasty, an ugly sunova bitch, but I don't kill for fun. I don't take pleasure in none of that.” 

Your brow furrowed, and there was a second of hesitation before you spoke, “But you've hurt people. Killed. Robbed! How does that make you better than them?!” 

Arthur scoffed. “I never said it did,” his arm snapped in the air with an exasperated flourish. “But I don't tolerate the O’Driscolls. I got no hard feelings about killin’ them that day.” 

You said nothing then, your mouth set in a hard line as you stared hotly at him, body tensed like a bowstring. “And why do you keep coming back here?” You demanded. “Trying to make friends and rob me in the night?!” 

“I said no already!” Arthur snapped incredulously. “If that were my plan, I would've done it weeks ago!” 

“Then what reason, Arthur?” You repeated. “What about me captures the interest of a notorious outlaw?!” 

Arthur took a deep breath. “Nothin’ with ill intent,” he grumbled. 

“So, what? I'm to assume your intentions were noble, then?” You sarcastically quip. 

Arthur’s gaze locked to yours. “I ever gave you a reason I was here to take advantage of your kindness?” 

The tension in your body loosened a touch. “No,” you admit, your brow furrowing with thought. “No...y-you've been nothing but kind.” 

Kind was not a word he'd ever use to describe himself. And he wondered again what was the purpose of continuing this argument, to convince you despite his background, his intentions were nothing nefarious. 

The glimmer of common sense once again touched his mind. He should've left with the first accusation; to leave you believing he was just another monster to make the severed connection sting less. But that thought bothered him more than he'd like to admit. 

“But how do I know you're not fooling me?” You asked, the tone in your voice softer now but your face was still tense. “You said you're mean and nasty, but...you've never acted that way toward me.” 

Arthur folded his arms across his chest, his eyes shifting to the worn floorboards. The answer burned in his throat, with every thought and realization that appeared in the last twenty-four hours, but he kept it clamped tight. 

The silence stretched between the two of you. He knew you waited for him to answer, but his response would be the second most illogical part of this day. Lord, why didn't he just leave it be and stayed put in Lemoyne? This trip was a bad idea, not only risking sight by the Pinkertons, but also further involving himself with you when he meant to just end it? 

He was stupid, an utter imbecile. 

The creak of the floorboards caught his attention, and he looked to see you take one step closer, an inquisitive look on your face. “Why, Arthur?” You pressed. 

He gritted his teeth, looking away again. His heart began to pound, and his fingers itched toward the satchel for another cigarette, or a gulp of whiskey, whatever found its way into his grasp first. 

“Arthur, will you please answer me?” You took another step, your figure appearing in his peripheral. 

His breath shuddered. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” he finally said. “Or you'd hate me even more.” 

Without waiting for your response, he turned away to face the door. But before his hand rested on the knob, a soft and warm grasp wrapped around his forearm. 

“Do not walk away without finishing this,” you said with a fierce growl that surprised him. He flicked his gaze over his shoulder to you, noting the determination on your features. “I called you my friend and friends don't do that to one another.” 

“Friend?” He expelled a harsh, humorless laugh. “After all that you found out about me, you'd still call me that?” 

“Answer the damn question, Arthur Morgan! Why would I not believe you?” you countered. 

Arthur flinched for a split second, and his heart began to hammer. You uttering his last name when he’d only revealed his first just confirmed the revelation of his truth. Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone? Why couldn't you just let him go? 

Physically, you had no true hold on him. Not that he'd make an attempt to hurt you, but he could easily rip himself from your grasp and hurry out without a second glance despite what you'd say or do to pry an answer. 

Emotionally? It was like that hand on his arm gripped his heart. The silent plea that lingered behind your hard, impatient gaze. The hard line of your mouth as you stared him down. It was as if you were somehow compelling him to stay without even saying a word. 

God damn it. 

It was like his walls slowly crumbled as his body turned to face you again. But he couldn't look in your eyes to even admit this to you, because he didn't deserve to. 

“Maybe...” he began, staring at your feet from beneath the brim of his hat. “Because I'm a damn fool in thinkin’ you'd remain nothin’ but a stranger to me.” 

There was a second of silence. “What?” You asked, confusion coloring your tone. 

His chest heaved, the lingering effect of those cigarettes still tainting his airways. Or maybe that was the nervousness that made it suddenly harder to breathe. “At some point, I...fell...for you.” He finally admitted quietly. 

The silence stretched for more than a few heartbeats now. Blood roared in his ears at a rhythmic rate as he waited for a response. But there was none. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, traveling up your body until his eyes were level with yours again. 

You looked absolutely dumbfounded. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted as if whatever words you were trying to say were snatched away. He waited for your response. The denial, the disbelief. The reminder that you were married. The demand to get out of the house so he would never have to even shadow your doorstep again. 

The silence once again stretched, becoming heavier by each passing second. The more he waited, the more turbulent his stomach became. He wasn't sure what was worse; his admittance or our absolute silence. He'd much rather you explode on him in anger than this. 

“Comin’ here today was a mistake,” he finally murmured, once again attempting to turn towards the door. Your grip tightened. 

“Arthur...” your voice was barely audible. 

“I know you ain't deaf,” he said. “Cause there ain't no way you wanna speak to me after that.” 

“Arthur, hang on,” you said again, louder this time. 

His head swung to look at you. “Why?” He demanded. “If you had any sense, you'd be tellin’ me to leave!” 

That hard stare returned as you pursed your lips for a moment. “Was that the reason why you showed up today?” You asked thickly. “To tell me...that?” 

“No, I came here to tell you I was leavin’,” he clarified, finally able to give the reason. 

“Leaving?” you repeated, the tone in your voice seemed...offended? That confused him. 

“Yes,” he gritted out, mentally shaking clear of the brief bewilderment. 

“Why?” 

The sigh he emitted may as well echo around the entire damn state. “Why d’ you think?” he asked flatly. “Can’t stay in one place too long, or else risk gettin’ caught. ‘Sides, it ain’t worth the trouble stayin’ when...” he trailed off as the next words halted just behind his lips. When the realization of his feelings toward you would end in nothing but a quickly dashed dream. 

You sucked in a breath then. From the look on your face, it was clear you knew what he meant, and he wasn’t even sure how to feel about it anymore. He’d done the deed, and now it was time to move on. Leave this God-forsaken state behind and return to that little peninsula he wasn’t sure if it were marginally better. 

No, not by any means was Clemens Point any better than...than here. 

Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned again, reaching out to pull the door open. The handle felt too cold even in his gloved hand, and it seemed like the damn thing stuck for a second before finally giving way. 

“Wait,” 

For whatever reason he paused, looking over his shoulder at you. At that moment you took a few steps closer. The anger had since melted away from your features, but a look of...something else...replaced it. It was a familiar look, but he couldn’t place the emotion. 

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured, the door creaking open further. 

“I...” you audibly swallowed, eyes closing for a moment before opening again. Your voice dropped low and rough, as if you were on the verge of tears. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

Those words froze him in place. He recognized it now, what was traversing through your mind. Shit, he’d seen too often over the years, but had become numb to it when it wasn’t relevant to him. When love and romance no longer held a place in his life. A look of longing. 

Hosea’s words echoed in his mind. I know that look of longing. He spun around. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand why all over again, when you drew closer, only a mere half-foot between the two of you. Your eyes were wide and shining with a penetrating stare. A jolt shot through his heart when he was suddenly reminded of the early morning he found you crying by the fireplace. 

And it occurred to him then, he never wanted to see you cry over another man again. 

His hands, his damned hands, acting as if detached from his mind, rose and slowly settled on your hips. You didn’t move from his touch, your own hands appearing to rest lightly on his chest. 

The silence weighed like the thick morning mist in Lemoyne. His skin tingled pleasantly from your touch, as if awakening a sense that had long since lay dormant. A single tear slid down your cheek, and his right hand automatically raised to wipe it away, his palm lingering against your soft, warm cheek. 

“Arthur...” you sighed thickly, your face leaning into his touch. “Please...” 

Don’t leave. 

The unsaid phrase rung in his head as if spoken out loud. His lips pursed and the internal war raged again. He may not be a good man, but pursuing you would certainly tip the scales more against him than they already were. He didn’t deserve you, and you didn’t deserve an unruly outlaw to steal you away from an honest working man. 

But the way you stared at him spoke legions.  

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and you inched closer, the unspoken plea growing more intense on your face. His breath caught. 

“Y' need to tell me to leave,” Arthur whispered roughly, the hand on your hip flexing. Beneath the pounding of his heart, he hoped you’d take that one last chance to banish him from your life entirely. 

“No,” you said firmly despite the glassy sheen in your eyes. “I want you to stay.” 

He took a deep, stuttering breath. Morals be damned, he couldn’t just walk away now. Not when you had him like this... 

Arthur dipped his head at the same time you stretched up. Lips met, warm and soft, foreign and familiar. The last of the brooding thoughts all but shriveled away the moment the kiss began, but others crashed over him like a wave. It’d been too long without another in his arms, too long since he sought the comfort of another body. 

But you weren’t a body. 

His mouth moved, slowly and gently against yours. It was a tentative, almost nervous move, as if waiting for your refusal. None came though as you reciprocated, matching his movement with your own. Breaths were exchanged between slightly parted mouths with each passing second, the kiss deepening with a slow, heady ascension. The hand on your cheek slid to the back of your neck, tangling into your tresses. 

Every nerve in his body sparked to life in a way he’d forgotten. A rush of excitement and anticipation flooding his senses. He parted from you with just mere inches, his forehead resting against yours. It seemed both of you were out of breath. 

Your hands still fisted in his shirt, but your body was pressed to his in the most pleasant way. 

There were no words, not a single phrase to even describe how he was feeling that moment. His lips tingled, his mind buzzed. All he wanted to do was to hold you, to kiss you, to... 

Your hands suddenly left his chest and you stepped free of his grasp. In the moment of loss and confusion, thinking he’d somehow overstepped, you took his hand in yours and began to lead him to...oh. 

His heart shot to his throat as the door next to the guest room opened, revealing a bedroom not too different than the other, but somehow it seemed more personal, more lived in. He didn’t really have time to ponder the similarities when the door shut, and your arms slid around his neck. 

Arthur’s eyes widened, his stomach knotting as he gazed down at you. There didn’t have to be any acknowledgement of what was on your mind. 

You wanted...him? 

That couldn’t be right. 

His eyes flicked to the immaculately made bed, the quilt soft and clean. That’s where you slept every night, alone...mostly. 

And you wanted him to take you in that very same bed. 

His teeth grit, suddenly remembering that damn dream. How you felt on top of him, the way his body responded to your touch and kiss. Would it be the same in real life? 

What should it matter, he was not worthy of your desire. It was a miracle you didn’t push him away after that kiss. 

“I...” he trailed off. 

You smiled sweetly at him; the sort of smile that made his insides knot even more. “I want this, Arthur,” you assured him, arms briefly leaving his neck to grasp his hands, placing them at your hips again. 

Do you? He wanted to ask, but he felt the warmth of your body through the dress you wore. His eyes fluttered shut as the meaning sunk in. You trusted him, even though just minutes ago you were screaming at him about his chosen life. Maybe it was your naivety, or your loneliness, the urge to have company in the absence of your husband, or— 

“Arthur,” 

His eyes shot open again, seeing the smile had softened on your lips. 

“I promise you, I want this,” you repeated sincerely. “But if you don’t, then—” 

He wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he silenced you with another kiss. It was rougher than the first, and the gasp of surprise from you was quickly replaced with a soft moan. Your arms were around his neck again, and he tugged you flush with his body. The knots of anxiety dissipated, replaced by a familiar sense of arousal. He leaned into you, forcing you to back up until the resistance of the bed met the back of your legs. 

His hand tangled in your hair once more, holding you to him as he pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth with a clumsy eagerness. Your leg hitched up as your ass rested on the edge of the bed, your inner thigh resting against his hip and damn if that miniscule movement didn’t excite him. 

What was he, a teenager? 

He stopped, fully aware of how his body was positioned over yours. He pulled back slightly just to say, “I want it, I guess I’m jus’ waitin’ for you to stop me,” he growled, finally admitting his thoughts of turmoil. 

“I won’t stop you,” you said breathlessly, a hand resting in this stubbled cheek. “I... need you.” 

He groaned at your words as arousal swelled in his lower stomach, gathering beneath his slowly tightening pants. His other hand soon busied, resting upon your chest to fiddle with the buttons of the dress. One by one he popped them open, revealing the thinner fabric underneath. A brief, clumsy moment passed as the two of you managed to peel the infuriating thing off, throwing it to the side and leaving you in just your undergarments. 

He paused then, eyes slowly roving over your body. He’d seen women in their undergarments before. Hell, living in a camp with next to no privacy, it was a familiar sight. A sight he never paid any mind to. But you...you were different. 

A memory surfaced, one that brought a myriad of emotions. Last time he had a woman like this was... 

“Arthur?” 

He blinked, bringing his focus to you again. The smile on your face was warm, and your hand reached up to cup his cheek. 

“Touch me where you’d like,” you said. “Anywhere.” 

Arthur let out a shuddering breath, erasing the prior thought from his mind. He lowered his gaze again, down your neck to the stretch of exposed skin between your collarbones and the swells of your breasts outlined by a chemise, the curvature accentuated by the corset on top. 

Anywhere... 

He raised a hand to tentatively cup your cheek for the briefest of moments before he trailed his fingers down, tracing the curve of your jaw, down the line of your neck, to the soft skin of your chest. You were warm, so warm...your heart fluttered beneath his palm. 

The corset was simple; clasps down the front. Slowly and deftly, he popped each clasp open, revealing just how sheer that chemise was. 

Your chest rose in a deep breath, and he couldn’t help but to give a slight smirk. He knew these damn things could be difficult to wear at times, but what lay beneath was a sight to behold. As the restriction fell from your waist completely, your back arched to him, your hips sliding deliciously across his, and he sucked in a breath of his own, momentarily distracted by the sweet friction. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, but a mischievous glimmer briefly sparked in your eyes. You were playful. 

And that only pushed him further. 

His hands grasped at your hips, sliding his fingertips underneath the chemise to explore more of your curves. The fabric bunched up with the further his hands went, exposing your navel to the underside of your breasts, until your arms raised, and he obliged by sliding it off completely. 

Before he could even admire your top half, your hands reached to shimmy your underwear down, and Arthur could only stare as more skin was exposed to him, until you were completely bare. 

He stopped completely then, a breath caught in his throat to take your body in its entirety. Everything about you looked so beautiful; soft skin and curves, your nipples puckered in anticipation, the shadowed V between your legs a beckoning paradise. 

His eyes slowly met yours and he could see a slight flush to your face, but there was no shyness. You didn’t hide any part of you from him. 

His cock pulsed at the mere sight. 

“Are you just going to stare, Arthur?” you said in a soft but challenging voice. 

Hell no. But God damn if his thoughts didn’t give him pause. He wanted to fuck like he hadn’t in ages, to claim you in such an intimate way that there’d be no doubts who’d be on your mind for weeks to come. 

But he wasn’t that type of person anymore. 

He swallowed silently, searching your eyes one last time for any lingering doubt. But he couldn’t find it. 

And you didn’t give him the chance to consider his own. Your hand fisted in his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. That mercifully erased anything else out of his mind, as he explored your mouth a second time, his hands going for the softness of your breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching your nipples. A soft cry escaped from your mouth that he swallowed eagerly. 

He almost melted when the heat of your touch found its way to the crotch of his pants. You gripped him through the fabric, and he groaned in response, his hips twitching in search of more friction. 

But he wasn't greedy, not in that sense. 

One hand left your breast to slide down your abdomen, the curls of your center brushing his fingertips. Two fingers parted your outer folds, where he was faintly surprised to find you were soaked. 

Oh, Lord. 

Arthur pulled back just an inch or two, a spike of disbelief springing through the haze of pleasure. You wanted him so damn badly. 

The look you gave him only further confirmed this. Impatience wrinkled your brow as you wiggled underneath his grasp, and your hand slid along his length, still hidden by his jeans. 

He breathed out a low hiss. Fuck, you were making it even harder to not succumb entirely and just fuck you raw and senseless. 

“Easy now,” he rumbled, his pointer finger prodding for that bundle of nerves and found it almost immediately. The tentative swirl he made caused you to moan again. “Jus’ makin’ sure you're ready.” 

He soon picked up a rhythm, and your breath caught in a gasp as he increased his speed. “M-more than,” you stuttered breathlessly. 

A smile tugged on Arthur’s lips, and he swiped his finger through your slit. Yeah, you'd been ready, but he wanted to watch you...watch you release first. 

It was like slipping into a memory, one of a younger Arthur, where lust often controlled the forefront of his mind more nights than he could count. A saloon girl once showed him what it meant to bring pleasure to a woman, in more ways than one. There was a time where he was too impatient to care, but learned really quickly how much of a better experience it was if his partner found hers first. 

It’d been years since that lesson, but the picture was still vivid. And picking up the act was like muscle memory. His slid a finger into your heat, marveling at how wet you were. Your inner walls pulsed as he thrust, slowly at first, but then increased his pace. 

You writhed beneath him, the sweet noises passing your lips were so pretty. His name was a soft whine, one that almost pushed him to drop his pants in that very moment. 

But he kept going, entranced by how stunning you were. Your hips bucked up as he added another finger. Your hand clamped onto his forearm, as if encouraging him to do even more. 

Arthur sucked air between his teeth, fighting the urge to give completely into his desires. Your nails dug into the skin of his arm, that sweet sting sending a small jolt of grounding. 

“Arthur,” you gasped, “I-I’m almost there!” 

He moved even faster then, swirling his thumb against your clit while his fingers slid through the velvety wetness. You swore out loud, hips snapping up into his palm as your inner walls tensed, followed by a gush of sinful heat. 

As your body slowly relaxed, he withdrew his hand, eyes fixated on how his fingers glistened in the light. He then shifted his attention to your face, flushed and mouth parted in shallow breaths. He waited for that realization of regret, the one that would inevitably come after the post-orgasmic haze faded. 

But he could detect none of that. As your eyes met his, there was that sweet smile again, that indication that you were 100% for this. You beckoned him closer. 

“You sure?” he asked quietly, giving you one last out. 

“Yes,” you said with firm conviction. You sat up, gaze never leaving his as you reached for his shirt, beginning to unbutton. 

God, he knew he was going to Hell, but he might as well enjoy the ride before then. 

He shrugged off his shirt just as you reached the final button, then working on the union suit beneath just as you reached his pants. He was disrobed in just under a minute, baring himself and his arousal for you. 

He held his breath as you eyed him from head to toe, waiting for you to find a flaw, to tell him he was too plain or ugly to be with you. But there wasn’t any sort of comment. You instead reached to wrap your fingers around his length, and your soft skin against him made his hips twitch in search of that sweet friction. You smiled again, sliding your palm from root to tip, and he groaned softly, closing his eyes and reveling in a feeling that had been lost to him for years. His own roughened hand could never replace this. 

“Arthur,” 

He opened his eyes to look at you again. 

“Take me, please.” 

It was just that one simple request that drove him forward, pressing you back down to the bed, caging you between his arms. He held your gaze as he lined himself up, your legs widening to accommodate. 

“I...ain’t done this in a while,” he admitted almost shyly. Hell, it’s been years. “I may not last long.” 

You reached up to touch his cheek. “That’s okay.” 

He breathed in then, spurred by your touch and the absence of judgement. How were you even real? How was this even happening? It had to be a dream. 

A dream be damned, he pushed his hips forward, sliding the head of his manhood through your folds, coating himself in your wetness before finding your entrance. 

He inched forward slowly, feeling you accept him with ease. He bit his lip as he managed to fully sheath himself into your warmth, the pleasure almost dizzying. 

“Fuck,” he hissed out, and your legs hitched up to wrap around his waist. 

That did it. 

He began to move then, thrusting almost hesitantly, watching your face as it twisted with ecstasy. Soon he entered a smooth rhythm, his eyes never leaving you. Your arms wrapped around neck, nails dragging along his back. 

He hissed again, the sting spurring him just a bit faster. Your head kicked back with a breathy moan, exposing the length of your neck. He dipped down and pressed kisses along your damp skin, feeling the vibration of your pleasure against his lips. 

Your hips snapped up to meet his thrust. The motion brought him even deeper; the sensation causing his arms to tremble. This would surely end him, the way you manipulated him with just simple movements. 

“Arthur,” you moaned, so sweetly, breathily dragging his name like a song. 

No, that would end him right then. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as if that would stave off the impending release. As rusty as he was, he'd feel like shit if this was over in the next ten seconds. 

As your hips rolled along, he halted and let out a shuddering breath, one hand flying to grip your flesh. It was partly in control, partly in warning. Any more movement from you and... 

Your eyes met his and you seemed to understand his silent plea, relaxing underneath him, a small smile quirking the corner of your lips. 

His breath was one of relief, refocusing on his rhythm. Slow and deep, every inch such sweet delicious torture. Your body so warm and slick, your voice melodic. God, how was he NOT dreaming? 

But here you were beneath him still, taking him without judgement or hesitation. No inkling of pain or regret. “Faster, please,” you whined, your eyes hooded and fluttering with pleasure. 

Faster. He was doing good enough for you to demand that. He obliged immediately, losing himself in the lust and pleasure, in you. His head bowed, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he drove you deeper into the bed. The scent of your skin, soap and herbal, the gasps of your ecstasy in rhythm with his skin slapping against you, the rake of your nails down his back, all invaded his senses. 

Your breath hitched and your voice heightened, your body arching against his. You didn't have to vocalize your second release, not when your inner walls squeezed around him. 

Arthur groaned out a low curse, lifting his head to watch your face. Beautiful, stunning, absolutely ethereal were the words he could describe you in this moment, and it still wasn’t enough. 

Your hips bucked to meet his again, though he could tell it wasn’t on purpose. The claws of your orgasm caused you to jerk and twitch beneath him. He grit his teeth, caught between so desperately wanting to fight the building release and chasing it to completion. 

But he couldn’t fight it again, not when he’s been out of practice— 

It barreled down his stomach faster than he could process. He let out another curse and with one final slam of his hips against yours, he pulled out of your delicious heat just as he released. He groaned deeply as his seed spurt out in ropes along your belly. 

His heart raced, his breath shallow as he still hovered over you, watching your face as your gaze drifted from below, slowly back to him, your own breathing matching his. 

Silence fell, each breath taken quieting and evening out. Your eyes never left his. 

As the post-orgasmic haze began to clear, Arthur’s mind began to buzz. The mental fortitude he’d constructed in those previous moments began to falter, and he was expecting the inevitable. For you to push him away, to demand he’d leave. Hell, he should get up and leave as if this never happened. 

But you didn’t. 

Maybe this was a dream after all. 

Your hand raised to cup his cheek, a small pucker appearing between your brows. “Arthur, are you okay?” 

His eyes closed at your touch, realizing his face must’ve given away his thoughts. There were a hundred responses to that loaded question, but how could he explain what his deep thoughts and feelings were, just after you shared an amazing moment together? 

“Yes,” he finally said, opening his eyes. “I jus’...I ain’t been with anyone in a long while.” 

It was the truth of it all, with so much more behind it. 

Your eyes softened at this, and a small smile crossed your lips, and you leaned up to place a quick kiss on his other cheek. “You did just fine, if you’re worried about that.” 

He let out a small laugh. You didn’t understand the real meaning behind his words, but he couldn’t blame you. There was so much and so little he shared with you. But damn if your words didn’t inflate the small flicker of pride that swelled in his chest. 

Pride, not the usual self-deprecation that followed a compliment. It was just enough to squander those old feelings, at least for the time being. 

What would these few moments of paradise lead to next, he couldn’t help but to wonder. 

His downfall? 

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈

aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.

After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.

Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.

But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.

And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that—Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?

It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.

What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.

Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.

After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.

But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.

I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.

Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.

[zeldahime]

Highway to Pail Day 28

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 28: Shellfie.

Moving to the South Downs wasn't a permanent change—for beings as old as they were, nothing like this could be—but it went along with the real permanent change: that Aziraphale and Crowley could be together publicly, loudly, and nobody in Heaven or Hell could take it away from them or stop them. Aziraphale wouldn't Fall, neither of them would be tortured or punished or killed. They didn't have to duck around anymore, meeting in plausibly deniable ways. Crowley didn't have to leave the bookshop through the back in the dead of night so he could be seen emerging from his flat in the morning. Aziraphale didn't have to meticulously track every miracle he performed in the hopes of not exceeding his budget. They could hold hands.

Being allowed to touch, in public, was utterly intoxicating to them both.

And touch they did. Not just holding hands: Aziraphale was allowing his hair to grow, no longer required to keep it regulation-short, and Crowley fussed over it constantly, tying and untying and brushing and straightening and brushing flyaways into place; Aziraphale fixed Crowley's collar and cuffs, straightened his ties and scarves and pins. They walked arm-in-arm, like was once fashionable, or with arms around shoulders and waists, or hands resting on lower backs. When they talked they leaned in, hands on forearms, cheeks brushing.

They both smiled more, and more genuinely, truly and perfectly happy like neither of them had been since their creations; even more so, really, for all the years of experience behind them and for the pleasure of each other's love and company.

On a bright sunny spring day, Crowley suggested they go to down to the coast, and Aziraphale smiled and packed a picnic, and off they went.

The Bentley blasting You're My Best Friend on a loop the whole way (which irritated Aziraphale much more than Crowley, who was used to it), they headed straight down to Selsey to look out over the channel and get their toes wet. Aziraphale had changed into an old swimming costume, cream and powder blue alternating stripes ending at the elbows and knees, which he'd probably had since old Bertie had crowned at least; Crowley remained in his regular miracled suit, and intended to simply snap into a speedo if they went swimming.

Aziraphale's hand rested just above Crowley's knee the entire way, except when Crowley took sharp turns at a hundred miles per hour, when it did not rest so much as desperately cling for dear life.

The beach was deserted despite the sunshine, still too chilly to draw in human crowds. Aziraphale and Crowley walked along the coast hand-in-hand, looking out over the sea toward the Isle of Wight, the conversation meandering from the mechanics of plate tectonics (which neither of them understood) to a dinner party they once attended with Plato, from a confused discussion of Wales and whales to the plot of a Doctor Who episode Aziraphale had watched in 2007. This led Crowley to recount a blessing he'd done while stateside with the Dowlings, which reminded Aziraphale of a temptation he'd done in Czechoslovakia in 1983, which reminded Crowley of selfies. Crowley'd had a hand in selfies, tempting a young photographers to a bit of vanity, and it had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

His phone was in his hands before he could finish his thought. He interrupted Aziraphale recounting the svíčková he'd had at a bistro in Prague with a command to "Smile, angel!" This earned him a confused look, Aziraphale turning to ask him why, blurrily captured with the tap of a button and a recorded sound effect of a shutter click.

"Whatever are you doing, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked crossly, irritated at the interruption, and Crowley showed him the screen.

The blurry photograph was a nightmare of composition, but Aziraphale immediately loved it more than any in the world, save one. Crowley was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the edge of his sunglasses, one arm visibly extended to hold the phone and the other intertwined with Aziraphale's, Aziraphale clearly beginning to face him. The first photograph of them had been taken at a moment of temporary relief, taken by an enemy and intended to be used against them. The second was pure freedom, pure happiness, taken by Crowley himself, simply because he'd wanted to.

"Oh," Aziraphale said, voice shaky.

"Yeah," was Crowley's equally shaky reply.

"My dear Crowley, you must print this out when we return to the cottage."

"I—Angel, this isn't the only one this phone can take, we can have a better—"

"I certainly hope we will, my dear Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "And I want to print this one."

They looked at the phone, and then at each other, and smiled.

"Yeah. We'll print it."

Aziraphale had it framed. It hung as a set with an old photograph from the Second World War in their library, above a yellow Georgian chaise that held a mismatched throw blanket and cushion, one in red-and-black tartan and the other patterned with cream and blue snakes.

--

Author's note: This is what came up when I googled "czech food" and HOLY MACARONI IT SOUNDS DELICIOUS. I will be looking for a Czech restaurant that serves svíčková in my area stat.

[taehyungday]

𝗦𝗔𝗦𝗔𝗘𝗡𝗚 - 𝚖.𝚢𝚐.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀…𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾…𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗎

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍…998

I'm still not sure how I ended up here, but I was tethered to a chair in a basement of a building. My lips was also taped, so I couldn't shout for help. I just remember walking back to my apartment after a successful concert a few hours ago when I suddenly felt a great deal of pain in my head region. I turned around to find a masked man with a baseball bat smeared with blood, most likely my blood. I awoke here after that. My head was still aching, therefore I got a headache. I could only hope that my fellow members of my group would come here to look for me. But I knew they didn't call me often because our group didn't have a strong bond. And since this was our final show of the tour, and our record label granted us a two-month vacation thereafter, the chances of my members or managers looking for me were little to none.

Then I heard a pair of footsteps approaching. The cellar door was suddenly opened, showing a really gorgeous man with a poker face staring at me. There were also some other men with him who appeared to be his bodyguards. The man with the poker face approached me and pulled the tape from my mouth.

"I'd been looking forward to this moment for a long time." He stated.

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I began pleading with him to help me escape out of this cellar.

"Please, sir, I have no idea who you are, but don't harm me. Please let me go because I have done nothing wrong. Sir, I beg you."

"Unless you disobey my commands, I will not harm you." You'll be living in the basement until you figure out what your role is in the house. I intend to move you from this basement to my room as soon as you start behaving good. You must sign these papers until then." He remarked this as he threw some papers at me.

"Can you tell me what these documents are about?" I stated.

"Sweetheart, don't ask questions; just do what I say or you'll finish up with a bullet in your skull." He remarked this as he drew his weapon. I was terrified.

"Untie her from the chair, Jason, and provide her a pen." He told his men.

I've never been a big fan of music. Despite the fact that I had a girlfriend who was a member of a Kpop group. Because I was in a mafia gang, I told her to keep our relationship a secret. She didn't even tell her group mates about our affair. She asked me to one of her concerts after that. I opted to go because I didn't have any plans or task. I'm not sure what occurred to me after seeing her. She was simply hypnotic. The way she sang, danced, and laughed was fascinating. I couldn't understand it, but when she walked, everything began to look prettier. Because of her, my cold, dead heart began to beat again. That night, I returned home while just thinking about her, and I slept while her lovely voice echoed in my mind.

I began stalking her from that point on. I began collecting her photographs and glueing them to the wall. I created a room particularly for her, complete with her photographs and artwork. I purchased everything that featured her in a commercial. I even purchased some makeup accessories because she was selling it. My girlfriend began to notice that I was ignoring her. One day she arrived at my mansion and discovered Y/n's room, she was astonished and immediately began wrecking the place. I tried to stop her, but she was deafeningly deafeningly deafeningly deafen After she started spewing nonsense about y/n, my mind became agitated. HOW DARE SHE. That's when I grabbed a nearby wire. Then I strangled her as a result of it.

I alerted the police about her death after she died, and I urged them to cover it up by claiming she had committed suicide. The cops didn't question me because I had power over them.

When the world learned that their beloved idol had committed suicide, they were devastated. They began to lament her death. My darling Y/n was inconsolably wailing. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and comfort her, but I knew it wasn't the proper time.

I couldn't wait any longer after a few months. I couldn't figure out how to love her. But, my God, how much I loved her.

I told my men to kidnap her after a few weeks. That guy, on the other hand, hurt her by striking her in the head. That jerk deserves to perish slowly and painfully. I approached my Y/n after killing him, and just by glancing at her, I could tell she was terrified. What a beautiful young lady she was. I forced her to sign papers transferring her entertainment label to me. Because the ceo was afraid of a mafia, he didn't ask me any more questions regarding the paperwork or the weather-about y/n.

Despite the fact that the fanbase and group members were perplexed as to why y/n departed the group. But I was too engrossed in my alone time with y/n to notice that.

She was a thorn in my side at first, refusing to obey my orders. I began giving her less food and left her completely alone. I didn't even pay her a visit since I wanted to make her feel lonely so she would develop Stockholm syndrome and cherish my company. And that's exactly what occurred; she was pleased to see me. She began pleading with me not to leave. That's how my Y/n figured out her place in the family and began to love me.

[beevean]

N!Alucard swearing in particular doesn't mske sense because he was raised by the two people in the whole show who actually never swore once and were really refined, not to mention he presumably lived in pretty isolated conditions so there could be no way for him to gain any rude behavior

The show tries to sell the idea that Trevor's behavior rubbed off on him but he was calling his ancestors brain dead hillbillies and overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

It literally makes no sense for him to be this way even in-universe

Yes, exactly.

It's the same logic of that S4 scene where Sypha goes on a rant because "I said shit, you did this to me!" when this woman literally snarked that she was going to make Trevor drink her piss by telling him its was beer, like, 10 minutes after meeting him. No, you made nearly everyone talk the same, you don't get to paint Trevor as the "crass one"!

Funnily enough, Alucard insulting the Belmont heritage by more or less calling them primitive savages for their techniques does fit the idea that he's a haughty spoiled prince who thinks he's so much superior than the low class. Probably not what the writers intended, though :P

overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

In S1E4, he literally asks Trevor if he's "a runt running around with the Belmont crest" before even fighting. And I get the idea that Alucard wanted to test him to see if he could help him, but the antagonism is so forced. I honestly don't know why Alucard would hate Trevor on sight: their personalities are not that opposite.

It's shit like this that pisses me off:

Alucard: This is a simple remote viewing mirror. A little of the activating language is chipped. A few of the runes need re-cutting, but workable. You have the most fascinating family junkyard, Belmont. Trevor: You are a cockwart, Alucard. Sypha: Stop it. *drags Trevor away* You are an adult. You do not have to rise to his every barb. Trevor: He's pissing me off like it's his job, Sypha. Sypha: Grow up, Trevor.

Alucard attacked Trevor first for literally zero reason, Trevor insults him back (less elegantly but whatever, I'd call him a cockwart too) and Sypha reproaches him and tells him to grow up? And then the scene transitions to Trevor explaining the origins of his name... which leads to the two flirting? Bro? The fuck? This is literally "be nice to your bully" logic??

This is the forced framing of the show. It wants to tell me Trevor is the immature, rude one, because Alucard is justified:

Sypha: But it's like he's a cold spot in the room. It's not like your sadness. Trevor: I'm not sad. Sypha: Yes, you are. But I can shout at you, or tease you, and get a reaction that lets me know you're still in there. His sadness is like an icy well. It's bottomless… and it swallows up your voice and anything you try to drop into it.

Trevor's depression is funny, Alucard's depression is tragic. Comic relief vs. real protagonist. You can't make this shit up.

And then this other shit:

Sypha: Stop testing him, Alucard. Alucard: I am concerned I have thrown my lot in with a demented infant. Sypha: I imagine he has similar concerns about you. Alucard: I am also concerned that you enjoy him too much. Sypha: And what is that supposed to mean? Alucard: He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand. Sypha: Oh. Am I not working hard enough? Hmm? Alucard: And he's a drunk and he's self-destructive and anybody trying to hold on to him may well simply be dragged down with him. Sypha: You're afraid. You worry that you might have made the wrong choice. So you're trying to make him prove himself again and again by constantly provoking him. You forget, Alucard. Trevor didn't get to finish out his childhood. He is not the man here who may not have grown up.

This is not testing. Sypha joked about finding a book with penis spells, and Alucard unprovoked threw a jab at Trevor. He just decided to insult him as soon as he saw an opening. (although, hilariously enough, it lowkey sounds like he's crushing on Sypha and he's jealous that she and Trevor had a decent chat the other night)

Hey, asshole. Trevor literally brought your ungrateful ass to a place that holds all of his heritage, a heritage he was shunned for, because you need help to kill Daddy - and I don't give a shit if you feel attacked in your vampire identity which makes zero sense and makes you look really callous, you want a vampire hunter for the job, you get someone who kills people like you for a living. You have seen him fighting: you have seen that he is very competent at his job, which is what you need. On the other hand, in S2 we barely if ever see him drink like in S1. You literally, literally, have zero reasons to speak that way, unless you're just looking for excuses to be a dick. And if you're that insecure about your choice... leave. Find someone else. Go fight Dracula alone, since in any case you ended up doing all the work. And Sypha, why the fuck did you go and bang Trevor when you clearly prefer Alucard over him. Look, she's defending him, but she's still calling him a manchild! What's with Ellis and his obsession with manchildren and humiliating them!

... I'm sorry, I know I strayed away from the point of him swearing, but N!Alucard is such a rude prick! I hate him! It's not Trevor's fault, he was born that way! He's not even that pretty that would justify him becoming the fandom's blorbo! I want to slap him and Sypha so much and then rescue Trevor who needs much better friends than these two 😭

[itspikamefan]

Project Eden’s Garden Real Quotes definitely

(Probably will be some repeat quotes amongst this post but I wanted to do something fun before Tetro inevitably destroys me. And hey what better way to cope with Trauma than quotes? Enjoy!)

Eva: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand. *Lightning strikes Eva* Eva: ... HA! Nice try Jackass! Next time, give it your A-game!

Ulysses: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

Tozu: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

Wenona: I’d like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals.

Damon: How many kids do you have? Ingrid: Biologically, emotionally, or legally?

Kai: Fuck. Damon: We've got to work on your cursing... Kai, confused: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

Toshiko: I'm having a midlife crisis... Jett: You're like 15... Toshiko: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

Jett: Let's watch Sharkboy and Lava Girl. Mark: Ok...? Jett: And make out during the Scary Parts. Mark: Th- Mark: The Scary Parts... Mark: Of Shark Boy and Lava Girl...

Eva: I can explain! Damon: Can you? Eva: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie...

Wolfgang: So that's my plan. Damon: Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean. Wolfgang: No. Go ahead. I want to hear it. Damon: It fucking sucks. Wolfgang: ...That's not constructive criticism.

Wenona,  struggling to keep upright in her 1 inch heels: Yeah... I-I don't think heels are for me... Diana, pointing at her and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

Cassidy: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you. Wenona: 10 times zero is still zero. Cassidy: Jokes on you, I can't do math.

Ingrid: Oh, just so you know, it's very muggy outside. Jean: ... Jean: I swear to god Ingrid, if I walk outside and all of our mugs are in the garden... Ingrid: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Mark: ...It's dark in here. Jett: Don't worry dude! Jett: *Stomps their feet* Jett: *Sketchers light up*

Tozu, addressing the class: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Damon: But... That's just a trash can. Tozu: It sure is!

Cassidy: What do you call a fish with no eye? Ulysses, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Cassidy: ... Cassidy: fsh...

Damon: Kai and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Kai: Sentences. Damon: Don't interrupt me.

*Chapter 2 leak real (Not really) Eva: What's up guys, I'm back. Damon: What the- How?! You can't be here! You're dead! I literally saw you die! Eva: Death is a social construct.

Damon: Diana... My archenemy... Wolfgang, dejected: I... I thought I was your archenemy? Damon: I have a life outside of you, Wolfgang.

Ulysses: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness. Jean: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you. Eloise: here were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Jett: HELP I TOLD MARK I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!!! Cassidy, pouring Milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Kai: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it... Diana, warmly: Just rip the bandage off! Kai: It's Damon... Diana: ...Put the Bandage back on.

Desmond: What did you do with Wolfgang's Body? Tozu: Heh, what didn't I do with his body? Desmond: ... Tozu: Ok that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of his corpse respectfully.

Eva: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me. Diana: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you? Eva: Yes! Damon: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Wolfgang: I just ended a four-year friendship. Diana: Oh... I'm so sorry... Wolfgang: Oh don't worry, it wasn't mine. *Eva and Damon fighting from across the room*

Ingrid: Dammit, Grace! Grace: The hell?! It wasn't me! Ingrid: Sorry... Force of habit. DAMMIT Jett! Jett: Wasn't me either! Ingrid: What... Then who set the academy on fire? Eva: *Suspicous Whistling*

Jett: *Screams* Cassidy: *Screams louder to establish Dominance* Damon: Should we... do something? Mark: No... I want to see who wins.

Eva: Can I be frank with you guys? Jean: Sure! But I don't see how changing your name is gonna help? Diana: Can I still be Diana? Cassidy: Ssh... Let Frank Speak.

Kai: Why are Cassidy and Jett sitting with their backs to each other? Diana: They had a fight. Kai: ... Then, Why are they holding hands? Diana: They get sad when they fight...

Diana: Good morning! Wolfgang: Good morning. Jean: Good Morning. Grace: Jeez, you all sound like robots. Try spicing it up a little. Cassidy: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

Wenona: Anyone d- Mark: Depressed? Eva: Drained? Jett: Dumb? Damon: Disliked? Wenona... Done with their work?... What is wrong with you people?

[auntarivia]

Eyes of my friend

A one-shot about Romania seeing undead Sandro for the first time.

I was bored and wanted to write about my girl. New year resolution - share more about Roma. Starting today (5 days before new year).

Anyway enjoy.

The orders were clear. Stay near the borders, watch for Sandro trying to cross, wait until he gets close. They couldn't go either on the Erathia's or Deyja's territories, since, as Lord Ufretin said, "We want to stop the Necromancer, not start a war."

It was eating Romania from the inside.

A few weeks ago, she got a report from the field about how Jeddite failed and his forces had to fall back to Nighon. It didn't contain much details about Warlock as the report wasn't even intended for her – it was a copy that her Lord received gods know how long ago and it was sent to her with orders that summarised the situation and only emphasised that she and the other capitans were to stay "vigilant" and "ready" or simply – how Romania saw it – useless.

Romania sent the messenger back with a request to get a more detailed report about casualties on Nighon's side but she could only hope that her Lord would agree on sending his scouts out there to gather the intelligence. Of course, she justified it reasonably, claiming it would be useful to know how much support they could still get, how powerful Sandro was and what he was capable of, and other simply tactical reasons like that. She wouldn't just write "I need to know if my boyfriend is alive."

But gods, she really wanted to know if he was alive.

Stay, watch, and wait. Stay, watch, wait. Stay. Watch. Wait. Like an obedient dog. Not that Romania wasn't used to being one – as a soldier, her whole life was about listening to orders, and usually she had no problem with waiting, but this time it wasn't just a normal war, hunt or battle. This time, it was a fight against someone she trusted, who used to be her friend and now betrayed her, and hurt or probably even killed her partner.

No, Romania shook her head, Jeddite is not dead. I know it. No matter how far Sandro has fallen, he wouldn't kill his best friend.

Right?

Romania kept walking around the camp hidden under the trees, and anxious thoughts kept bothering her mind. Stay. Watch. Wait.

"Capitan, ma'am!"

Romania almost jumped when she heard the scout calling her. She stopped, stood straight, and looked towards a young, slim elf that ran towards her.

"Capitan! I saw the Necromancer and his troops west from here, going north, an hour from Captain Gaie's squad!"

"How long ago?!" asked Romania way louder than she planned.

"No longer than half an hour, ma'am!"

"Did you see the Necromancer? Are you sure it was him?" Her voice was shaking, and she was sure the scout noticed it.

"It was a figure on a black horse, in dark clothes, and with two dozens undead marching with it. I'm pretty sure it was him!"

"But did you–" Romania bit her tongue before finishing the sentence. She knew that Sandro had at least one more Necromancer on his side that the scout might have seen instead of him, and she didn't want to waste time on chasing one of his minions, but the scout wouldn't recognise Sandro anyway and her orders clearly stated that she was supposed to wait on her station unless the other squads needed her help.

But what if it was Sandro? Was she about to just let the other Capitan take him?

"Sound the alarm! We are moving now!" she stated and started walking towards the stables.

"But ma'am!" the scout trotted next to her. "Weren't we supposed to stay in our area and–"

"Sandro is strong," Romania cut him half–sentence. "One squad won't stop him. Even if Gaie has her archers, Sandro has the kind of magic that arrows will do nothing against. They will need help. We are going now and we are surrounding him!"

"Yes, ma'am!" the scout didn't protest anymore, just ran to pass her orders.

Five minutes later, they were already going. Romania's squad was made of pegasus riders and archers, swiftly moving through the woods.

Too slow, thought Romania while barely stopping herself from making Achates fly up and over the trees. She wanted to get there as fast as possible before either Sandro annihilates the other army or Gaie puts an arrow through his head, and she wasn't sure which one she was more afraid of. Part of her still couldn't believe that her friend became a twisted undead and overambitious Necromancer, which was one of the reasons why she needed to see him with her own eyes. That and the bloodthirsty desire to cut his traitorous head of his shoulder.

The forest was silent, too silent. According to the scout they should've been getting close. At this point, Romania should've been able to hear the sounds of a fight, even if they surrounded Sandro and caught him from behind. Was the fight over already?

Right before they left the forest, Romania stopped and gestured on her soliders to do the same. Way in front of them, through an empty field, where the forest continued to grow, was hoovering a thick, green cloud. Through it she was able to notice a few moving silhouettes. After a moment the fog started to collapse and uncovered bodies laying scattered on the ground, with few skeletons moving around, while in the middle was standing a person wearing dark blue robes, and, despite being so far away, Romania knew it was him.

She saw movements between the trees, glimpses of white bones noticable against the greens. Undead pushed elfes back to the forest and were fighting there.

Romania sent another gesture towards her soliders and they continued to move along the forest line, still hidden from the Necromancer, trying to get as close as possible without getting noticed.

Sandro kept standing between the bodies, still like a tree, while his cape was waving on the wind. Romania kept her eyes on him, watching his every subtle movement. Slowy, Necromancer started raising his hands, with glimpses of a soft green light dancing on his fingers. Romania's face went pale. She realised what he was doing before even the first bodies started to move. She shouted the orders, and her troops jumped from between the trees as Sandro's first animated undead started walking towards the woods, with more still rising. Capitan with terror saw how previously dead elfes were getting on their legs, sometimes just as clean, white skeletons, sometimes with flesh still dripping on their bones.

Sandro must've finally heard them as he turned his head towards the uncomming troops. New bodies stopped rising and his attention seemed to be fully focused on the new enemies. Now Romania was able to see his pale, collapsed face and light long hair falling on his shoulders. A grin appeared on his lips and he rapidly turned his hand towards them.

Romania recognised the spell and lifted Achates up in the air right before lighting struck the ground.

"To the forest, support Gaie!" shouted Romania to her soliders and turned pegasus towards the Necromancer. "This bastard is mine."

Her adjutant led the troops according to Capitan's orders while she flew towards her target. She was seeing red, her fingers clenching on the reins and for a moment she held her breath. As she got closer, she could've swear that Sandro's face adjusted and became even more familiar.

She struck from above, but her sword bounced from the magic barrier that Sandro put between them. The force of her hit pushed her hand away and caused her to lose her balance. She dodged lighting bold that flew inches above her head and realised that Achates was too open on the magick from below. She turned the mount around to once more face the Necromancer, but this time, right before the strike, she turned Achates to fly up while she herself jumped on the ground and rolled to amortise the fall. It disoriented Sandro, who missed another shot and then turned toward her while Achates flew away. Romania didn't waste a second and swung her sword that bounced from ebony armour on Sandro's chest. She narrowed her eyes. She had never seen this kind of armour before, and she felt dark magic pulsating from it. "Armour of the Damned". The cursed artefact that they were warned about.

It's an armour, she thought to herself, and every armour can be destroyed.

"Romania!" Sandro raised his hands in a greeting gesture while the devilish smile was still present on his face. "I was getting afraid that I might miss you! It's good to see that you were just as eager to meet me as I was to meet you, old friend."

"Shut up!" she shouted through her teeth and attacked, aiming for the weak spots in the armour, yet she missed as she had to avoid another spell.

"Eloquent as always," he mocked her while teleporting a few feet away. "Jeddite at least gave me a little talk before trying to burn me alive. Don't you wanna try to talk me out of it? Reason with me?"

"I have nothing to tell you!" She charged at him, swinging her sword that Necromancer once more pushed away. It seemed pointless to keep attacking him like that, but Romania knew how to fight magic–users. They had a limited amount of magica, exhausting them and playing on time was the key. She was also taking his attention from the main fight, which gave her troops a chance against the undead.

More merciless strikes fell on Sandro, and Romania saw how his grin pales. Finally, she struck his face, cutting through his cheek, yet instead of familiar feeling of steel slashing through the fles, she heard a grinding sound of cutting a bone. Sandro's face flickered and for a moment became transparent, showing white scull under it. Illusion.

Romania froze for a second. So he truly was an undead. A damn skeleton.

"My, my," Sandro touched his cheek and his face became human once more. "You are even more fierce than Jeddite!" He chuckled. "You must hate me even more than I thought! Is this betrayal that fuels you? Oh, or perhaps you think about your poor boyfriend? You know what happened to him, don't you?"

Romania clenched her teeth and hardly stopped her hands from shaking before continuing attacks.

"Of course you do! You two loving doves kept such a sweet correspondence!" Necromancer didn't stop his mockery.

I guess he doesn't have to worry about losing his breath, thought Romania. She did her best not to focus on his words, yet it was hard. Sandro struck a weak spot.

"I bet you would love to see what he wrote to you this time! To be honest, it was so sweet that if I could, I would've throw up. So I had to burn it. You two are disgusting."

"Shut up!" she yelled, trying to hide the trembling of her body. Her sword struck his neck only to once more cut through the illusion and miss the spine.

"Or perhaps I should say 'were'. I doubt he will be able to write anymore. Now I wonder," he pushed her away with magical wind, leaving a few steps of distance between them. "Since you loved him so much, would you be able to recognise his bones?" He gestured towards the remains scattered around.

Romania's face went pale and she stopped with her sword half risen. With wide eyes she followed his hand and then looked at the bodies and bones that surrounded them.

"You– you didn't." She whispered, terrified. "You wouldn't!" She added with even more fear and desperation as tears started gathering in her eyes.

Sandro responded with laughter.

"It's so nice to know you think so highly of me, dear Romania! But what can I say, I wanted to always have my best friend by my side, even if he refused to do so while being alive! But don't worry. I will animate his bones once more while I'm done with you and perhaps even let you join him!" Sudden lighting bolt came from his fingers, that shocked Romania barely avoided. "Or not!"

"You… you…" Romania was trembling but then clenched her sword even harder and threw herself on the Necromancer with scream: "You motherfucking bastard!" Her attacks became faster, filled with desperation and pain. "You traitorous piece of shit! I will cut your head of!"

Sandro laughed, blocking and avoiding her attacks. How much magica did he still have, thought Romania for a second, but then hatered once more filled her mind. It doesn't matter. I have twice as much strength and much more rage.

Sandro once more pushed her away with wind and then struck with lighting. This time Romania didn't dodge, instead took the spell on her sword. Electricity shattered the weapon, but capitan didn't even flinch, fueled by anger and adrenaline. She reached for her dagger and run towards Sandro. She avoided another lighting by rolling on the ground, and while getting up, grabbed some sword abandoned by a fallen solider. Armed with dagger in one hand and sword in the other, she once more charged at her opponent. Sandro's smile disappeared. Now he seemed angry and almost… scared?

Good, thought Romania, while her sword swung towards the Necromancer. He pushed it away, but then the woman struck him with dagger, cutting leather strip of his chestplate and causing it to uncover a fragment of his body. Shocked Sandro tried to cast another spell, but he was too late. Romania pushed her dagger through the unprotected body, once more destroying the illusion, yet now with enough force to break a few ribs and push the Necromancer. He lost his balance and fell on his back. Romania threw away the dagger and grabbed the sword with both hands, then raised it above her head, ready for the final strike.

And hesitated.

Sandro looked up at her with pure terror on his pale face. Suddenly, he looked so young, like the man she last saw those few years ago when him and Jeddite left AvLee with their master. When he was her friend. His blue eyes looked at her, almost begging for mercy, lips were trembling with fear, and he tried to cover his face with his skinny, shaky hand.

"Roma, please," he whispered.

It's just an illusion, Capitan remainded herself. Too late. From the hand that Sandro moved up to pretend to cover himself, flew a lighting bolt. It struck Romania in the chest, shattering her chestplate and pushing her off the ground and few feet away. Sword slipped from her fingers as she fell on her back and lost her breath. Her mind became foggy, and her vision blurry.

"Bastard," she tried to say, but her lips were shaking and a bit of blood poured from her mouth. Did she bite her tongue, or did her lungs get damaged from the spell? She couldn't get up, couldn't move, and in a short moment lost consciousness.

***

Romania was sitting in the infirmary, with bandages around her wounds. It's been five days since the battle, after which medics found her, healed and then transported with some of her surviving soldiers to the nearest fort. Healing magic didn't fix her completely – her wounds were too severe, and others needed healing as well, so while her lungs, concussion and other deep damages were fixed, the flesh wounds still needed to heal, like the one on her head, chest and arm. The last one surprised her. Apparently, when she took the lighting on her sword, some shock still transfered to her arm. She didn't feel it during the fight, probably because of the adrenaline, but also thanks to her leather gloves stopping some of the electricity.

Yet it wasn't what confused her the most.

Why did Sandro leave her alive?

This question kept bothering her for days. Her surviving soldiers said that right after her fight, Sandro called for retreat. Were his undead losing so badly without his constant support? Or did Romania manage to damage his artefact armour? Even if, why didn't he finish her off? One lighting in the head and she would've been dead. Did she drain his magica? Or was there still some humanity in Sandro? Some remnants of his old self, of her friend? Some part of her wanted to believe that, hope that he wasn't completely lost. Yet the other part preferred him to be completely lost and corrupted. It would've been way easier to kill him.

Why did I hesitate? It was the other thing that kept haunting Romania and she hated that she knew the answer. Because she saw her friend… No, because he tricked her to see her friend.

"I'm a failure," whispered the Capitan to herself while resting her head against the wall.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door. Romania turned her head towards him and noticed Eret looking around. When he noticed his sister, he ran towards her, ignoring other patients and a medic that told him to calm down.

"Roma, Romie, I came as fast as I could!" he said while sitting on the bed next to her and wrapping arms around her to hug her. Despite him obviously bursting with emotions, the embrace was careful – he saw her wounds. Roma returned the hug with her healthy hand.

"How do you feel?" He asked after moving away and looking her up and down.

"I'm… Let's get outisde." Romania looked at the medic that gave them both a warning look. "Besides, I could use some fresh air."

Eret nodded, and after Romania put on a shirt, they both left the infirmary.

For a moment they walked in silence, down the wooden stairs and through the green town. Romania looked down at her naked feet, enjoying the feeling of the soft grass soothing her nerves.

"It's not your fault he escaped. Don't blame yourself."

Romania sighed when she heard Eret's words. He always knew what was on her mind.

"I hesitated, Eret. I almost got him, but I hesitated."

"It's not your fault," he repeated firmly. "You did your best."

"You don't know that, you weren't there!"

"No, but I know you. You did well because you forced him escape. Thanks to that, some of the soldiers survived instead of being massacred and reanimated as his undead."

"But how many will die because I didn't stop him?"

"That's all on his conscience."

Roma scoffed.

"I doubt he even has one."

Eret let out a sad chuckle and nodded his head.

"Perhaps he doesn't."

There was another moment of silence as they kept making circles around the infirmary.

"What else is bothering you?"

Romania hesitated from answering but then sighed. There was no point in hiding anything from Eret.

"Sandro said he killed Jeddite and reanimated his bones."

Brother frowned.

"And you believed him?"

Capitan blushed slightly from embarrassment and looked away. Now it seemed obvious that Sandro just tried to manipulate her and make her lose her cool – even if at the end it worked against him – but what if there was some truth in it?

"I guess I did…"

"We both know that he always cared for Jeddite much more than for anyone else. If he spared you, then he spared him."

"We don't know why he spared me."

"Apparently, he didn't hate you enough to finish the job."

"Eret, it's not that simple."

Brother sighed and wrapped his arm around Romania's shoulder.

"Send a messenger to him. Maybe they will find out if he is fine."

"I don't have my own scouts that I would be able to send so far away."

"Well, they have to find something, right?" He then turned Romania to look at him and with all seriousness said: "We will find him. I promise."

Capitan managed to smile slightly and give him a nod. Eret pulled her to hug her once more.

"Alright, time for you to get back to bed. You really need to stop getting so close to the death."

"Well, I can't promise that."

"Yeah, I know you can't."

[archive-of-the-lost]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐉𝐎 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞! — @tiredshroomi

Your ideal match is…Leo Valdez!

Backstory:

You never had a father. You lived in the woods with your mother, hidden away in the woods in a cozy cottage, with your own garden of vegetables and the nearest town a half hour's walk away. Your mother was kind and gentle, always doting on you and cooking the things you liked to eat, brewing tea for you every night before bed. She didn't mind talking about your father whenever you asked about him, curious because the children in the stories you read usually had a father, though she never said much except that he can't be with the both of you. You always had the feeling that it wasn't because she was hurt or grieving, but simply because she didn't have much to say about him. Your life with your mother was peaceful and predictable, with chores to complete and schoolwork to finish before you could go out into the woods and play. You were happy with your life, though a bit restless as you began to wish for friends to play with, and to visit towns and cities you would see in the magazines your mother would give to you to read. One night, just as you were about to go to bed, there was a knock on the door. A traveler had come to your house, asking for a place to stay the night. He had been on his way to the nearby town but gotten lost in the woods, and now it was too dark to go anywhere. Though the town wasn't that far away, your mother decided it was too late for her or the man to be making their way there, and allowed him to stay for the night, offering to take him there herself in the morning. Nothing seemed strange as you and your mother settled down for the night in your bed, the traveler taking your mother's bed as she insisted for hospitality. You soon drifted off... And was woken up by a scream, shoved onto the floor as your mother dodged the knife intended to plunge into her neck. It cut across her arm instead. The traveler snarled, chasing after the both of you as you scrambled out of the room, out of the house. Your mother ran ahead of you at first, her taller stature allowing her to run faster than you. She looked back, and saw that the traveler had revealed himself to be a manticore, running towards the both of you on all fours. She looked at you next, terrified, grip tight around your wrist. You stared helplessly at her, too terrified to look back as the manticore roared behind you. She must have realized the both of you had no chance of surviving before you made it into town, and stopped dead in her tracks, pushing you forward and yelling at you to keep running. You choked on a sob and obeyed, refusing to slow down until you reached the town, running into the nearest building with people. The traveler never came. You were taken in by an elderly couple and stayed at their place for the next few days as the town police searched for your mother and the traveler that attacked her. Neither of them were found. On the fifth day after the manticore's attack, a boy came up to you in the town library and after making sure you both were alone, told you about a camp where there were others like you, and protection from monsters like the one that attacked your mother. You were terrified of him at first upon seeing his goat legs, fearing that he might have come to attack you too, but heard him out after he assured that he wasn't going to harm you. With no other choice, you let him guide you to the safe haven he called Camp Half-blood.

Camp, cabin, powers:

Camp Half-blood — Cabin #15 — Hypnos

Hypnos being your godly parent explains why you like sleeping so much, and how you can do it for so long as long as no one disturbs you. He was watching over you all the time when you were younger and would fall asleep in the woods after playing for some time, warding monsters away from your vulnerable form. It's how you managed to survive for so long despite living in an isolated house in the woods, only discovering camp half-blood at age 13.

As a child of Hypnos, you can induce sleep in others. As long as they are asleep, you can also manipulate dreams, alter their memories, or make them remember things they had once forgotten, as long as they didn't forget because of the actions of a deity. Furthermore, you can use hypnosis when your target is asleep, making them surrender information they normally wouldn't while awake and able to resist your hypnosis. Finally, while you sleep, you can travel across the dreams of anyone else who is also asleep, allowing you to see what they're dreaming of.

Pet: Sheep

The sheep is Hypnos' sacred animal. You pet sheep was a gift from your father for your 14th birthday. He appeared on camp grounds one day and followed you around, refusing to leave you alone until you pet him. He would follow you everywhere if you could, but you managed to get him to stay outside and frolic around while you're busy. He normally stays in the stables with the pegasi. Your friends have found you pinned under his body and fast asleep there multiple times. He's so gentle and his wool is so soft to touch, just looking at him is enough to melt all of your worries away.

Best friend: Annabeth Chase

With you both being year-round campers, it didn't take long for the both of you to notice each other and start talking. She's smart, witty, and has no problem voicing her opinions, many of the traits you find attractive in a person, so all you had to do was put in some effort to befriend her despite her slow reciprocation. It took a while for her to warm up to you, especially since your energetic and friendly personality intimidated her at first, but once she did, you find that there's so much you both can talk about. The discussions you both get into can last for hours, with the both of you being so knowledgeable. You both can learn a lot from each other as the both of you have deeper knowledge in areas the other doesn't. Like how you're not a STEM person at all, but Annabeth is. And how you're knowledgeable in psychology, zoology and biology, but Annabeth... Not so much. She can have trouble with admitting when she's wrong, so your debates can sometimes get pretty heated. Once she's calmed down, she'll think the situation over and admit when she was wrong or refused to see your side of things, so you don't have to worry about her not wanting to be friends with you just because you both disagree on some things.

Relationship with:

Percy Jackson

The both of you would be good friends! With how close you quickly grew with Annabeth, you found yourself hanging out with Percy too. Which wasn't a problem at all, as he's quite laid-back and friendly himself, meaning talking to him wasn't awkward at all. The both of you are quite similar actually, being kind-hearted, having similar energies and being obtuse sometimes. Annabeth can attest to that. You're both quite popular among the campers due to your likeable personalities and heroic feats. Many of the younger campers consider the both of you their role models, which isn't much of a problem since you're good with kids and Percy makes for a good older brother figure. Percy would also encourage you to show more of your rebellious side, as he's a huge rebel at heart too.

Will Solace

You get along well with the musically inclined Apollo children because of your shared passion for singing and music, so it wasn't long before Will came across and started talking to you. You're also a year-round camper like him, so you both had time to hang out during the spring, autumn and winter, allowing the both of you to develop a close bond quickly compared to the campers that only came for the summer. The both of you get along well because you share traits of being caring and empathetic. He also doesn't mind listening to you talk about your passions and interests for however long you want, insisting that he likes listening to you whenever you get worried that you're annoying him. With his tendency to overwork himself, being so dedicated to treating others, you often have to force him to take breaks, being the mom friend that you are. He isn't very used to being looked after, and though he's sheepish about thanking you when you make him eat or even force him to sleep when he gives you no other choice, he's grateful.

Nico di Angelo

You didn't know much about him at first, even as he started getting closer to Will, because he was still so isolated from the rest of camp. As he started being more involved with the camp and participated in camp activities more, you were able to try and approach him a few times. Will even encouraged it sometimes, wanting the both of you to get along and for Nico to have some friends. It took a while for you to befriend him, with Nico being so reserved and quiet, but you were patient and caring. Once you got him to talk about Mythomagic cards, keeping a conversation with him was easier, he didn't want to stop talking even. You managed to form a friendship with him from there, where the both of you are always eager to share your interests with each other. Like Will, he doesn't mind when you get tongue-tied because you're so excited. But unlike Will, he's awkward when assuring you that he isn't judging you, but he tries. He doesn't say it but he's really grateful that you approached him and now you both are friends.

A/N: ♡ I feel I went overboard with the backstory but oh well.

♡ I'll admit I was feeling silly so I gave you Hypnos as a godly parent. It's okay, you get cool powers.

[yjano]

Who I am now?

Part 11.

Pairing: Jake x Mc.

Genre: Angst, comedy, dark romance.

Warnings: Strong language, angst scenes. 18+ content can be found.

Words: 5.9k

Author's note: This story contains mature topics and is not fully related to the duskwood game. A different parallel with different personalities. Thank you everyone for following and liking this! lly.♡

•

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Jake focus.

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The next morning, I walked out of the shower, feeling refreshed and tousling my dark wet hair with a towel. I entered the main bedroom, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Mc helping herself to the complimentary breakfast of warm buttered toast and the black coffees provided by the couple who owned the place.

I gulped, letting the hand holding the towel drop to my side as I was studying Mc discreetly, walking toward her. It's all cool, Jake. Just simply grab your toast and don't scare her. Stay calm. An exhausted Mc was curled up against the corner of the couch, wearing a red hoodie Lex had donated her. She was biting into her buttered toast. Upon noticing my gaze on her, Mc pulled the hood of the jumper over her head, covering half of her face and shielding her dark circles and the sore red skin around her worn eyes.

I walked over to pick up my slice of toast and tried to give some space to Mc by sitting on the unmade bed a distance away from her. I bit into my breakfast warily, waiting for Mc to speak her regular flurry of questions she usually asked every morning. So it was more than just worrying to see her so silent and wary early in the morning.

Finally, when the silence got too deafening. I cleared my throat, standing up to brush away the toast crumbs.

"Mc, we should get going," I muttered, secretly hoping to elicit a reaction from Mc. But unfortunately, she didn't say anything just simply nodded, finishing the last of her toast. She stood up, weakly brushing the tiny crumbs off of her hoodie front as well.

When she stood up waveringly, I got a full view of Mc's sleep-deprived self. Her skin was pasty under the morning light, her eyes were bruised from rubbing them dry, looking as if she'd be ready to fall asleep within seconds. Her shoulders were slumped in an exhausted manner.

I looked away, trying to ignore the guilt of feeling eating me alive. Distractedly grabbing a black backpack I hauled it onto my shoulders before wordlessly walking towards the room's door, listening to Mc's shuffling close behind.

We both walked towards the center of town after leaving the motel, cycling in the half-deadness of it all. For some unknown reason, people have disappeared from the town. But it's Duskwood. The ssight was more than just unnerving to me but still, neither of us said anything.

Soon I figured out the reason for the lack of people when we passed by a public library noticeboard stuffed full of brightly decorated posters advertising a amusement park party taking place today. I read the bold font denoted on the poster.

"Join us for live entertainment. Fun booths, slides, homemade foods, and drinks are available for free!"

I furrowed my brows slightly. Didn't Mc wrote that she wanted to go to an amusement park on her bucket list. It's not as big or as great as I'd want her to experience but it'll do. I nodded to myself warming to the idea already.

I looked over my shoulder to see a fidgeting Mc sitting on the carrier, pulling the sleeves of her jumper over her hands, completely disregarding the noticeboard we'd stopped in front of. I started to pedal down the desolate roads with the intent to find that amusement park. Maybe the amusement park will make her brighten up a bit more.

It didn't take long before we arrived at an amusement park. The large grassland was flooded with hundreds of people walking around holding clear plastic buckets of baby pink candy floss and wearing large smiles and pretty sundresses. There were dozens of rides set and lit up, intending to attract the attention of several townsfolk with their bright red and blue flashes and loud carnival-type music.

Amongst these few rides, there was an army of stalls weaving in and out of crowds of people, offering and selling homemade tasty snacks and cool drinks to eager children and adults.

"Wow." Mc breathed, climbing off the carrier in a trance state. I followed her actions, climbing off the bike's seat with a small smile on my face. I was glad that I managed to evoke a reaction from her. I dumped the bicycle against a small tree nearby, ditching it completely. We won't need that anymore. I faced Mc, licking my lips unnoticeably.

"Wanna go on a couple of rides?" I asked with a corner of my mouth tugged upwards in a little knowing smirk.

"Yeah!" Mc whisper shout with her hands clenching into fists excitedly as she was looking around with her big eyes. I smiled, leading the way happily whilst listening in on Mc gasping at everything we walked by.

It seems to be working. I stopped amid bustling townspeople and looked over at a wide-eyed Mc with a smirk still firmly placed on my face.

"What ride do you wanna go on?"

Mc looked at me at the sound of my voice and visibly froze under my gaze. Her smile dropped quickly and soon was replaced with a thin line. My smirk faltered when she looked away.

"Oh. I don't care." Mc muttered hastily, shoving her fisted hands into the front pouch-like pocket of her hoodie. I sighed internally, looking away and studying the array of rides set out before our eyes. I tried to not feel defeated, but soon enough I spotted a striped red stall nearby. One that proffered oversized plushies if you managed to knock a tin can pyramid with three balls. Three balls equal three tries.

"How about that one? Wanna get a plushie?" I questioned, pointing out the stall to Mc. She nodded and we both made our way to the stall, silently despite being immersed in a throng of loud cheers and screams belonging to excited townspeople. Who was eating, playing, running, riding rides, and laughing loudly with their friends. These people were the complete opposites of the rather awkwardly silent us.

"How much is it to pay?" I asked as soon as we reached the stall. The stall owner, dragged a wet lollipop from his lips and grinned at me before answering.

"5 euros."

I handed the demanded amount of money and motioned for Mc to have a go, stepping to the side and watching Mc timidly grappling for the ball set on the stall's counter and picking it up. Her brows furrow in concentration, she lift the ball high in the air, the tip of her tongue poked out from her mouth when she flung the ball as hard as she could toward the stacked tower.

The force Mc had used to fling the ball was way too strong. She ended up flinging the ball right over the tower, making it hit with a loud thwack against the thin wall of the stall. The man chuckled throatily.

"No worries beautiful, you still got two tries!" He beamed, pulling out a saliva-coated lollipop from his mouth. Mc rolled her eyes, readying herself for another throw.

"Mc, try to throw it low, and swing your arms forwards with less force." I offered, trying not to laugh at her expression. Reluctantly Mc followed my instructions and threw the ball whilst biting her lower lip. The ball just missed the tower making her groan out loud.

"Last try now. Don't fail!" The man reminded unhelpfully. I disregard the stall owner.

"Come on, Mc. You were close." I murmured, pushing my body off the stall's counter to get a better view. Mc applied my instructions again and aimed for the bottom of the tower. It hit the center bottom which should've to allowed the tower to topple forward. Mc turned to me, squealing with joy and jumping up and down on the spot.

"I won! I really won!" She smiled widely looking at me excited over her win. I immediately reciprocated the big smile when I caught her looking at me, feeling glad she was smiling again.

"Better luck next time, beautiful. It was so close." The man sympathized, smiling wryly, picking up the three balls Mc had flung. Mc looked over at the man, smiling confusedly.

"You didn't get them to fall." The man shrugged with a knowing smile plastered on his face.

"But I did." Mc protested, looking over to see the collapsed tower. Only the tower wasn't collapsed, not one can have fallen. "But-" Frowning, she picked up the ball and flung it at the same spot, successfully hitting it in the same spot. Her jaw dropped open when the tower didn't budge at all. As if it'd been glued down together.

I on the other hand, soon realized what was going on after years of experience. Gritting my teeth together and turning toward the stall owner who was looking at Mc, with his gross lollipop twirling around his fingers.

"Hey." I cleared my throat loudly, placing  a gun discreetly in front of him on the counter. The man leaned against the counter, flickering his gaze downwards at the object. Nearly swallowing his lollipop whole, choking himself on the candy. I tilted my head forward slightly whilst maintaining eye contact with the suddenly fearful stall owner.

"Alright, listen up you litle bitch. Give her the damn bear plushie she won it fairly. I'm not standing for this rigged bullshit." I hissed narrowing my eyes at him. "So if you don't want me firing a bullet into your forehead, make her smile by giving her the motherfucking plushie."

The stall owner gulped hard and nodded, hurriedly moving to grab one of the plastic wrapped plushies hanging overhead. His lollipop was threatening to fall from his glistening lips. Mc, noticing the man's actions, stopped playing and blinked at me and the man, completely lost.

The man with a frozen smile on his face, forcefully handed the plushie to Mc who took it with big eyes, surprised at the gesture.

"Wha-"

"Please take it! You won it fairly!" The man smiled falsely, looking at me uneasily. Mc looked down at the big plushie in her arms before smiling widely. Her sore eyes formed into happy crescents.

"Thanks!" She grinned, tightening her grip around the plushie. Tue stall owner, looking very pasty, nodded jerkingly and looked over at me. Mc did the same, smiling hard at me and waving the plushie to show me her prize. I quickly shoved my gun behind my back and fixed a light smile on my features.

"Yeah thanks, man. Bye." I grinned, walking past the nervous stall owner, motioning for Mc to walk along with me.

We went on a few rides and then there were a bunch of vending machines that I spent a good twenty minutes wasting my money and making an unimpressed Mc sit on a bench, idly slurping the last dregs of his fizzy drink. And now, well...

"What's next?" I asked casually, side-eying Mc. There was a large inflatable slide, acting as a massive centerpiece. But there were already several people lined up at the side, holding a variety of inflatable rings and mats which'll soon be used to slide down with. Mc's eyes widen at the sight and an excited gasp left her parted lips when she watched people slide down the slide all at once.

"Guess it's this then." I mused, watching Mc's reaction. We walked ahead and lined up in the queue, waiting for the people to hand in the inflatables so we could have our turn. I stood out of the line and shook my head when someone handed me the inflatable. Instead, I motioned for the person to hand it to Mc. She frowned at me, taking the inflatable ring, and looking at me questioningly. I rifled around for my cigarette box and lighter.

"There's no way I'm going up there," I muttered. "I'm afraid of heights, and going up there will just worsen it for me." I said bluntly, taking out the items needed to smoke.

"Really?" Mc asked, surprised. It was probably the first proper word Mc's said all day to me, and I can't help but offer up a weak smile as I nodded. Taking a cigarette out of my cigarette box and packing the rest away into my jacket pocket as Mc was staring at me.

"There's no way I'm going up there," I murmured again, placing the cigarette between my lips and lighting the stick up with the lighter. Mc turned away chuckling. Is she laughing? I peered around a little to see Mc laughing quietly behind the hood of her hoodie, using it to conceal herself.

I coughed up the smoke I'd accidentally held in way too long and turned away, sputtering like crazy. I felt Mc reaching out to pat me on the back in an attempt to help me. But it didn't help.

"You shouldn't smoke," Mc mumbled when I recovered myself. Ignoring her I brought the cigarette to my lips once again, breathing in the smoke whilst turning away from Mc. Reddening slightly because, I just embarrassed myself in front of the many people queuing up, and becaude Mc had looked so damn cute, hiding her tiny bout of laughter behind that oversized hood of her jumper.

"Next!" The owner of the ride suddenly called out, causing the queue to shuffle forward. Mc make it in with the next round of people and waved at me. I watched on as I was smoking waiting for Mc to climb onto the slide and seat herself at the ledge at the top. Mc was sitting in the middle, a wide smile on display as she was waving her plushie in the air. I couldn't help but smile back and raise my hand a little to wave back.

"3, 2, 1! Go!" A man called over a loudspeaker, initiating a flurry of people to go down the slide, squealing as they hurtle down to the safety mats arranged below.

I laughed at the way Mc clung to both the inflatable ring with her hands and her legs wrapped around plushie to not drop it as she was sliding down, mouth opening wide as peals of loud laughter escaped. When she finally reached down to the mats placed on the ground, she climbed to her feet hurriedly and ran back to the queue without saying anything to me apart of.

"Again! Again!" She smiled, running back. I shook my head at the sight but let a grinning Mc line up again.

She's happy. I exhaled the smoke from my lips in a small huff. It's better to see her like this than how she was like last night.

After two more go's, Mc and I wandered around the amusement park in comfortable silence, slurping down brightly colored icy slushies that I had bought when I caught Mc eyeing it at one particular stall. I was about to pop the question of leaving the park to carry on when Mc suddenly burst out that she needed to pee.

"There should be portable toilets somewhere," I murmured, looking around. A second later, Mc spotted a row of them. A good few meters away, hidden behind a red glittery stall named

'The kiss booth'

Mc immediately pushed her slushie and plushie into my arms and bounded in the direction of the toilets without a word to me.

Before I could see where Mc had ran off to over the mess of her plushie and slushie shoved onto me, Mc had disappeared to god knows where. She was nowhere in sight. I panicked, looking around frantically for the toilets or Mc but I couldn't find her with the dozens of townspeople surrounding me, trapping me in place.

Fuck. Fuck. I'm so fucked right now.

I groaned loudly, barging in the direction I hoped was the one Mc went in with a half-metre-long plushie and two cups of slushie in my hands.

.

Mc focus.

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A couple of minutes later, I emerged from the portable toilet seat, wiping my hands down with a lemon-scented wipe.

"Excuse me?" Someone walked right in front of my pathway, abruptly blocking me off. I looked up from my hands and wipe, worried as to why this person decided to stop right in front of me.

"I need to, sorry if this offends you or annoys you, but could you pull down your hoodie? I need to confirm something." The guy asked, bending down a little to try and see my face better but my hoodie persistently blocked half my face off.

Oh- no. He recognized me! He knows I'm the missing girl from the news channel.

Fuck, where's Jake...But maybe I am panicking for no reason. Not everyone watches the news right? I was hesitant for a few seconds but then with shaky hands, I reached up to push my hoodie off my head. I waited for this dude to hasp out 'I knew you were the girl from the channels!' But instead.

"I knew it! I knew you're good-looking!" Whilst excitedly taking my hand in his, he tugged me along somewhere.

I was slightly alarmed, stutteringly following after the guy who led me to wooden steps leading up to a tiny makeshift stage. The guy with a grin pushed me up those steps and patted my back.

"Do me a favor and go sit in that empty chair, please? I need someone to fill that seat while I go pee otherwise my I will pee my pants. Please!" He begged with smile straining.

"Uh-"

"Great! Thank you so so much you're a lifesaver! I'll be right back in two minutes!"

"Hey yo-" Before I could call after the boy and ask him about what the hell he was talking about, an overwhelmingly pretty girl patted me on the shoulder.

"Are you our temporary replacement?" She urged and before I could open my mouth, the girl was already tugging me by the hoodie to the empty desk the guy had pointed out earlier.

"I suppose? What do I have to do?"

"The customers were getting antsy. Please sit here! I'll give you a couple of seconds to ready yourself before we start." With that, the girl left, leaving me confused.

I looked down at the two-seater desk I was seated at. It was covered in red crepe material paper. I picked up the laminated sheet and read it.

"The kissing booth - Color type

White Peck - on cheek/forehead.

Pink peck - on lips.

Red - kiss.

Maroon - French kiss."

I widened my eyes, looking around to see myself on a miniature wooden stage along with four other people who sit in the same condition as me on chairs accompanied by desks. I turned around to see half a motherfucking town lined up to participate in this 'kiss booth' scheme which seemed to have been thrust upon me.

People ranging from freakishly young to creepy old folks who had wide smiles on their faces. From people who were shy and jittery to people who were smirking cockily at their friends, spritzing mint spray in their mouths, are lined up. I spotted a lot of maroon-colored tickets being handed out to townsfolk who pay a surprisingly heavy amount for tongue action. I feel sick.

I am gonna have to kiss some old guys or some irritating fuckboys? Fucking hell, I don't wanna kiss someone random.

You have time to run and they won't even notic-

"The kissing booth is now open! Let's kiss!" A person beamed, speaking through a loudspeaker to attract the people's attention. the people cheered in response.

The first four customers walked on to the stage. A gang of boys with gelled hair and branded tracksuits clung to their weedy frames walked up to the stage. I'm not going smack my lips with some kid's chapped lips. I stood from my chair just when one of the boys, the boy that was assigned to my desk, spat out swear words.

"Hey, you motherfucking cunt, it's my turn! Fuck off jiggly balls, she's mine!" The boy grunted, roughly pushing the man holding a plushie and two slushies in his hands. My mind went blank for a second, I tried to see the man, my savior's face behind the plushie.

"Don't you have preschool lessons to go to today, you little fucker?" The man gritted out threateningly as he wrestled with the young boy. The young boy cussed at the plushie guy but the guy ignored him, walking straight toward my desk. Uncertain about the man's identity, I shrunk back in my seat, my throat tightened as the man harshly dumped the plushie to the side of the table and-

"J-JD?"

"Mc, what the fuck are you doing at a bloody kiss booth? You tell me you're going to the toilet but I see you at a motherfucking kiss booth-"

"First you steal my place and now you're stealing my time! Back the fuck off!" The bratty kid yelled but Jake ignored him.

"-Ready to kiss some fetus."

"What? Do you think I really wanna kiss some random kid?" I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him. The fuck he is on about.

"Kiss and leave loser!" The kid yelled but this time I ignored him.

"Someone made me fill in their spot while they went to the toilet," I explained, with cheeks getting red from anger. "I didn't realize he was making me join the kiss booth until now." I hissed, sitting up in his chair. "I thought he wanted me to look after some fucking brownies not the fucking kiss booth."

"Come on kiss already! My mom is coming this way!"

"Fi-" Jake started but got cut off by that annoying bratty kid.

"You stupid dick! If you ain't gonna do it, let me!"

Jake's eye twitched.

"Fine, fine whatever. That's all fine but I couldn't find you. Let me know before running off okay? I have spent five minutes walking around looking for you." Jake bitterly remarked whilst glaring over his shoulder at the angry kid.

"It was only five minutes." I raised unimpressed eyebrows at him. I know you were worried about me, Jake. I can read you like an open book right now.

"Five minutes in which I could've bought candy floss but- "

"You're so annoying, don't make me come over there you fuckhead!"

"I-"

"I'll beat you up loser!" Jake clenched his jaw hard.

"We should probably just leave. The guy should come back soon enough."

"What guy?" Jake asked, trying to not gather plushie in his arms and fling it at the whining shit behind him.

"The guy who asked me to fill this place-"

"If you don't motherfucking kiss already I will drag you down!"

Jake was looking like he was ready to pull his gun out on the kid but he stopped himself. His hand clenched into fists when the kid continued.

"Tell them to hurry up I wanna get my kiss too!"

"Oh, for fucks sake. Come here." Jake gritted out and with a rough tug at my collar, Jake brought his face closer to a stunned me before pressing our lips together.

I stayed stock still, too shocked to move away. I was sitting there on the seat with my body rigid.

What.

I am being kissed by Jake.

Oh my fucking god!

Push him away, Mc! What the fuc-

But my body seemed to ignore my brain's wishes. I closed my eyes and carefully parted my lips, relaxing into his kiss.

This is so so wrong. But I liked it too much to stop it.

.

Jake focus.

.

I'm not supposed to be doing this. Oh my god, what am I doing? Ths is so messed up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Despite my thoughts, I delved deeper into the kiss which started as a firm press and changed into a softer, deeper kiss. A change was done by me. What the fuck I am doing? But fuck godamn, Mc's lips are the softest I've ever experienced, and no matter what my brain tells me. I can't pull away.

"Fucking finally. It wasn't that hard you loser!" The shit kid yelled again, catching our attention and causing me abruptly pull away from Mc. The shit boy's irritating voice acted as a bucket of ice-cold water, shocking me awake from my and Mc's little moment.

We broke away but our heads were tilted with our foreheads resting against each other. We were breathing heavily, it was only a ten-second kiss. A ten-second kiss rendered me and her breathless somehow, our chests were heaving, and lips parting slowly.

I stared into her eyes with an unreadable expression. She was staring into my blue eyes with an unreadable expression as well.

"Oh my god." She gasped suddenly, pushing herself back in her chair and slapping both palms over her mouth. I am myself was shocked at my own actions. I wanted to slap my hands over my mouth as well and run away as far away from Mc because just looking at her lips makes me wanna- I saved myself by playing it off casually, putting on a cool calm facade in front of freaking out Mc.

"Well, that's two things crossed off the bucket list. Even if I wasn't the person you wanted to kiss." I muttered nonchalantly, wiping my lips with the back of my shaky hand. I stood up and quietly cleared my throat before reaching out to grab the plushie. I looked over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Mc who refused to move a muscle.

"Well, are you gonna move, or do you wanna have another round with that whiny shit? I saw he requested french kissing." I addee, smiling humourlessly.

Mc held her breath, slowly rising from her chair. She gulped several times. Timidly following after me.

~

Now, Mc was curled up against the train window, her knees were drawn to her chest in a protective stance and her red face was buried low in her hoodie, hiding away from the public.

I was sitting two seats down from her, my body was hunched forward and stiff. I hadn't moved from this position in at least ten minutes. I turned my face away face. The tips of my ears were a prominent shade of red.

On the half-full train, people chattered about random things. Mc and I hadn't exchanged glances or words with each other. We both were blushing and shocked or freaking out too much to look at each other.

Jake, what the fuck did you just do?

Why? Why you kissed her? To get that kid to shut up? No, that's not it and you know it. So then why did you kiss her?

I didn't think straight. That kid was yelling at me, Mc's face was exposed to the whole town and the previous stress of trying to find Mc made me do it. Yeah. all that and maybe because just wanted to do it. I wanted to do it for a long time.

I changed my posture, straightening up and leaning against my chair with my back cracking in protest. I rested my head against the seat's headrest and stared up at the faded red light fixtured of the train.

Mc's lips were surprisingly soft. They were not tacky with glossy lipstick, and they were not chapped and bleeding. I coughed loudly. What the hell? You're out here daydreaming about her lips for fucks sake when you're meant to be finding ways to get her to a safe place. Away from Richy. But her lips were so damn soft and plump.

I tilted my head to the right to look over at Mc's huddled figure. I watched her lift a shy sweater paw to her lips, prodding her lower lip with her index finger thoughtfully. Mc's cheeks bloomed red soon afterward.

She's cute as fuck. Damn.

I hastily tilted my head back to stare up at the light fixtures, gulping hard. I dropped my gaze from the ceiling and stared at the window.

I think- I fall in love with her harder each time she flashes me a smile.

.

Mc focus.

.

Oh my god.

I subconsciously lift a hand to my lips, touching my ower lip with a finger. Did I just had first kiss with Jake like that? Just like that we kissed infront of the people?

I hurriedly dropped my hand from my lips when he caught the sight of my reflection in the train's window and realized how weird I look. But wow. I remember his lips firmly pressed against  mine and it felt so good...So damm percent. I felt my cheeks glow hard.

My breath got caught in my throat when I remembered the texts I'd texted him. The thing about our kiss and how the world would disappear around us. And goddamn it disappeared. It was just me and him.

I knew that I won't experience this type of feeling again when Jake decide to tell me the truth. Maybe he doesn't love me anymore but I don't care. I wanna hold on to this feeling for as long as possible. The feeling of having him around, the feeling of his touch, the feeling of his caring side. The feeling of-

"Excuse me, but could you move your plushie? It's yours right?" A girl questioned, pointing a manicured finger in plushies direction. I nodded, mumbling a quiet sorry before pulling the plushie onto my lap, a little fazed.

Once the girl sat down, my mind wandered off again. Wandered right back to the kiss booth where I was sitting in front of Jake, letting the kiss take the breath away from my lungs. Immediately the image sank in and I found myself pushing my face against my plushie, muffling a squeal in the object. The girl glanced at me concerned, but I didn't care.

It was really nice. I smiled widely looking at the distance. Kissing Jake was really nice. Blushing, I wrapped my arms around the plushie's stomach, hugging the toy hard as I was looking out of the window at the fleeting scenery outside. Just when I thought I couldn't fall harder for Jake, I fell harder.

.

Jake focus.

.

Five minutes later, my phone vibrated against my thigh, startling me out of my dizzying array of thoughts. Sighing I lifted my phone up and without bothering to look at the notification displayed on the screen, I swiped my thumb across the glass, unlocking it before waiting for the messages to load.

My face broke out into an immediate grin as I read the message. It was automated messages sent in coarse slang and accompanied by an excessive amount of emojis because they were used to throw off the police.

U: 18+ !6!6!9

U: mEgA rAcE tAkiNg plAcE. BroOm bitches$$$

U: ITs goNnA bE BiG moTheRfUckeRs.

U: nO.1 rA$er "S" iS attending.

U: sO cOmE hErE bABY tO yOur favOriTe ra$er.

U: Do not reply to this message.

I beamed at the messages, smiling particularly hard at a specific name embedded in the text. "S"

Can't wait to meet you again.

.

Richy focus.

.

Ikari squealed excitedly, clapping her hands as she studied herself in the full-length mirror.

"I think this is the one, it suits my body type perfectly, right?" She smirked, looking over her shoulder at me sitting on the black couch. She quirked an eyebrow at me, waiting for the answer. But I didn't care about the way she looked. I was just too relaxed sitting there on the couch, smoking the last of my cigarette whilst staring dully into the distance. Where is she?

She pouted at me, making her way toward me and hopping on my lap with her hands wrapped around my neck.

"I didn't move on from Jake just for you to stare blankly in the distance when I'm talking to you." Ikari muttered, bending down to become level with my face. I looked up at her with my eyes lidded with boredom.

"I was thinking about something. I'm much better than Jake." I retorted, unimpressed. "Put some damn clothes on, Ikari. Not in the mood to play right now."

"Oh? You should think only about me." She giggled, pulling away and standing tall over me. I rolled my eyes at her and sighed. "And." She added, smiling pulling her dress off, letting it reveal her new lingerie. Transparent black playboy lingerie that was proudly on her body.

"You love me in lingerie, especially black lingerie, Richy or should we play roleplay where I call you the man without a face hm?" She tilted her head coyly, red hair falling to the side with some strands effortlessly brushing across her face. Her red lips formed into a smirk when she noticed my reaction.

I reached out and grabbed her waist, tugging her hard making Ikari stumble forward onto my lap again. Her little smirk got bigger but dear she doesn't know I'm only using her for now. Once I will find Mc everything will be over.

"Call me the man without a face. It turns me on." I warned running my hands up her smooth thighs. Ikari just simply laughed, a light tinkled in her eyes. "I will show you how good I can be. Better than the nerdy loser who was all over you."

"Whatever you say, Richy-" Ikari was abruptly cut off by the sound of my mobile vibrating against the leather of the couch. Before I could reach over for my mobile phone, Ikari snatched it up quickly, reading the notification with a curious look in her eyes. I stifled my annoyance at the action and instead focused on her thighs, rubbing and squeezing them slowly.

"Oh, There's another race taking place." Ikari read the texts as I was tugging at her lingerie lazily. "Are you going to go?" She asked, looking up at me with her pretty hazel eyes.

"Yeah, I guess," I murmured, finally having enough of my cigarette I stubbed the thin stick against the couch's leather armchair. Mc was supposed to stay with her friends but I guess Jake got involved in it. I will fuck him up. Just because he's not so nerdy anymore it doesn't mean he can win the fight.

"Now shut the fuck up and deal with what you started," I answered with the corner of my mouth pulled upwards, yanking my phone out of her grip and pushing the device aside. Ikari obliged, grinning as she rocked her hips against me.

"If you're going, I'm coming along. I'm sure Jake is gonna be there to cheer for that annoying racer. What was his name? Sam? Whatever, I wanna see how he's getting along without me." She muttered, smirking slowly. "I bet he's in shit condition, he couldn't live without me for more than a second so I wonder how he is now. Probably alone, crying about me." She commented dryly whilst running her hands over my torso.

"Yeah, can we not talk about him when I'm trying to fuck you?" I murmured, snaking my palms under her lingerie with great intent to touch her warm skin.

"Of course, my bad baby." She chuckled, slipping her dress off of her shoulders, letting the thin dress easily fall to the floor.

[cafalla]

2024 READING - COMPLETED BOOK 7/12

After waiting a few days following my last reading post, I got my hands on the sequel to Flame in the Mist!

It's been a few days since I've finished Smoke in the Sun (408 pages), and I have to say, I really had fun with this story. Both books were such page turners for me!

I don't normally like hardcover books, but I had to spend the extra dollar on thrift books to get the hardcover edition. The paperback edition offered didn't have this beautiful cover art, and I wanted both of my books to match appearance wise!

I do intend to keep these around, rather than re-donate them. I can see myself revisiting them in a couple years, after I've forgotten some of the details lol. And the books simply look pretty, even on the spine.

I did not overstay my time with this story, and I felt satisfied by the end. Some book series can drag on and on over multiple books, and I find myself losing interest by the 3rd book or so. But that's just me.

I enjoyed this second book. However, because of the circumstances of this second half of the story, I couldn't help but notice I was missing what I loved about the first book - the interactions between Mariko and Okami. They are kept apart from each other for most, is not practically all of the second book, save a few short meet-ups.

Their few moments they did have together were great and full of tension, and the epilogue was very sweet. I just wish we had a little more time with them at the end, when they finally were able to freely be together. I guess I wanted a more drawn-out reunion to make up for them hardly being together for this book.

I did enjoy the scenes with Mariko and Raiden though. Honestly I would've liked to see a bit more of their development...it felt like Raiden warmed up to her too quickly, but that's just me. I live for romance and slow burns lol, I always want more.

Strangely enough my main problem was the amount of editing errors and typos I came across, particularly in the last few chapters of the book.

Tensions were high and dialogue was intense...then I'd come across an extra period at the end of a sentence. Roku's name was written as Roka once, and it stopped me dead in my tracks with confusion until I realized they were talking about Roku. Ranmaru was once spelled as Ranmaruao or something like that at one point.

It was very distracting for me, especially when I was reading so fast because I was engaged in the end game. Ah well. I'd still recommend these if the plot of the first book sounds even remotely interesting to you!

—

Yay, I've hit 2k pages read!

I also finally did go on that thrift book hunt. My to-read pile is now thoroughly stocked up! I've already started my next adventure. x

—

Total books read: 7 Total pages read: 2,232

[bluesunsdusk]

Sigma would be informed simply and in passing, as if it was an afterthought. Valentine had gotten fatally injured on the last mission, and had died from their injuries on the way back.

It took a moment for the information to actually process. At least, enough for Sigma to register it. He furrowed his brows and whipped his head around, but the staff that had brought it up was long gone. They'd just finished up cleaning up and disconnecting his equipment after some more minor testing and now that he'd been brought back to his quarters, his escort was gone as well. She had yet to go over some of the results...

Surely, she would be back soon enough. Yes. Yes, he would focus on that, for now.

Though... did I hear that correctly?

No. No, he just misheard. He made it up. It was his concern manifesting in misunderstandings, his subconscious thoughts invading his perception. Sigma shook his head and tried to leave it be, but it wouldn't stop clinging in his mind.

The scientist would have stuck around if they merely intended to fool him, right? It wasn't worth the effort to spread lies in passing. It wasn't worth the effort if they couldn't see how he would react. He also hadn't seen hide nor hair of Valentine for the past... he wasn't sure, but now that he actually thought about it, it was long enough to be of note.

A pen his escort had left behind slowly shifted, hardly noticeable at first. The paper of the clipboard under it started to gradually rise, tipping the pen and making it roll off. It never touched the desk under it, however. Abruptly, it rose up into the air, along with the clipboard. A loud rip shredded through the silence of his quarters as Velcro that kept various items in the room from drifting was torn at by a massive shift in gravity. Pens, mugs, loose sheets of paper, whiteboards, chairs. Everything was thrust into the ceiling.

Valentine was so... young.

They couldn't be dead.

They couldn't be dead. Not yet.

Too soon.

It was too soon.

He should have died first.

This was-

The items that clung to the ceiling came clattering down on the floor and desk, some louder than others. Sigma paid them no mind. He himself also lowered to the ground. His feet touched the ground for the first time in a long while. It was hard and cold, but after having toppled his chairs, he had little else to sit. He sat down on the ground and stayed silent. Part of him still wanted to believe the news was false, another part hadn't even regarded it, but the most active part knew it was most likely real and it did more than crush him. On this rare occasion, rather than snap and scream, he made not a single sound. A solitary tear ran down his cheek as he stared blankly at some of the notes he'd made for his studies.

Valentine no doubt would have rolled their eyes at all the writing he had accumulated over the years in Talon, but he didn't mind. They were one of the few people with similar capabilities and they were a frequent presence within the facility. They put up with him.

Another tear rested in his other eye while he remained put, simply thinking. The grief had left his emotions in a void. He wasn't quite sure what he felt anymore and his thoughts had all silenced. The small noises that would usually register when he returned to his quarters after an examination couldn't break through.

Finally, the door to his quarters flew open. One of the scientists rushed in. They abruptly halted upon seeing Sigma simply sitting on the ground, surrounded by the various objects that made their home in that room. Some were left broken with shards strewn around the floor.

The second tear never fell.

Upon seeing it wasn't a scientist he trusted, Sigma took a breath and briefly bowed his head before shaking it.

"Apologies..." He said with a sigh, lifting one hand to brush his thumb under his eye. "I seem to have experienced a malfunction."

His tone was low, cold, slightly annoyed.

The scientist didn't question it, or they simply didn't want to spend another second alone with the madman they knew he was. After some quick taps on a communicator, they left.

Sigma glanced around the room and let out a soft hum, pressing his lips into a deep frown. What a mess he'd made...

[otomes-world]

39.2 “I knew you weren’t dead. I refused to believe it- I knew it couldn’t be true”. One of possible mini-endings of this fic. Another man whose charm I can't resist, he won.

You didn’t remember how you flew out of the window, how painfully you hit hard ground and broke several beams, and how you probably earned numerous bruises and abrasions. However, one thing burned in your memory very accurately. How you, ignoring the growing pain in your whole body and the trail of blood, rushed somewhere, not knowing where. The main thing was to get away from the one who was gradually approaching the door.

You didn’t remember how you ended up in the forest, how you somehow managed to run and hide in the bushes and let fatigue drag you into the realm of Morpheus.

Opening your heavy eyelids and feeling the aching need for water, you barely restrained yourself from moaning from the long lying among the stones and branches. You didn’t know how many days you were in this state, as well as why you still haven’t woken up from your nightmare and why your body stubbornly continued to fight for life, when with every second all that you wanted to close your eyes and give up.

With great effort, you forced yourself to sit up and tried to look around. You didn't recognize the area, but one thing made you happy. They either didn’t find you, or didn’t think of looking into the forest, or simply gave up. The last one you hoped for the most.

You tried to say anything, but the dryness in your throat prevented you from making any sound. An excruciating cough shook your lungs, from which you involuntarily bent over, feeling the wounds that did not have time to heal again reminded of yourself. In the end, your condition could be described as rather pathetic. Oddly enough, you still had enough strength for self-irony. More precisely, only to this, because every movement was given to you with difficulty, causing dizziness.

It was dangerous and reckless to go out, but to stay and let the dehydration finally drag you to the grave was not the best option either. Breathing heavily and feeling the tension in every muscle, you pulled your legs up to yourself, intending to get up and go in search of a stream or lake. If fate, which had not yet decided to end your life, had mercy, then perhaps you could find some edible berries as well. For now you did not feel hungry, but you knew that soon it would come too. Then you would definitely have to think about the unenviable end.

You didn't know how much time had passed and how far you had gone. Your whole body ached, and when you finally reached the small spring, you couldn't stand any longer and fell down. Your legs refused to hold you for a second more. Nevertheless, you had to go down anyway, your body just chose the fastest way.

You restrained yourself from giving yourself a flick, even on the verge of death, you still did not stop joking.

Putting one hand into the cold water, you felt how small wounds began to pinch, into which dirt had clogged. Grimacing, you lowered the other one and tried to gently rinse it too. When you finished, you scooped some water into your clean hands and held it up to your face.

As the liquid ran down your throat, wetting it and washing away the lump, relieving the effects of coughing, you noticed that everything began to swim in your eyes. Raising your fingertips to your eyelids, you noticed that tears were streaming down your cheeks. What happened finally weighed heavily on you, as did the relief of the fact that you managed to escape successfully. Calming yourself with willpower, you wiped them away. You were not yet in your world, which means it was too early to celebrate the victory.

After drinking some more water, you began to wash off the rest of your abrasions and dirt that had time to dry. You were still wearing the prefect's uniform, and you had to come back for a new set, which you were not going to do yet. Besides, you wouldn't be able to do it anyway, given how much effort it took you to get to the spring. So you just tried to wash the stains a little without taking off your clothes.

Inhaling the slightly moist air, you felt how it becomes easier to breathe, how strength gradually returned to you. You made another deep breath. You did it then, so you can do it again.

“I knew you weren't dead,” a sudden voice behind you cooled your ardor. Your body instinctively froze as you watched fear contort your face in the water reflection. “Azul and Floyd said the chance was wasted, but I refused to believe it—.. We didn't find your body, so I kept hoping. I knew it couldn't be true."

You heard that with every word he speak, the person was getting closer to you, but you still hadn't recovered from your recent movement. All you had to do was trying to shrink and watching as the shadow you cast gradually grew, as another face appeared in the water.

Your voice was as quiet as ever, but you had no doubt that you were heard, "...it was... it was you, right?.. ..because of you, I jumped out of the window then.."

Gloved hands were placed on your shoulders as you saw Jade leaning towards you, pleased. He was dressed in an Octavinelle uniform, but without the extra details like a hat, scarf, and jacket. As if he had not just come to wander in the forest, as if he had specially dressed for the search.

"Was it worth it, Name-san? Look at yourself now. Was your 'little journey' worth the state you brought yourself to?" Jade's tone was soft, soothing even. Probably the same one he used to lure new victims into his or Azul trap. “If you had accepted my hand back then, we would be sitting and talking over a cup of tea in the Monstro Lounge right now. However, as the vice leader of the Sea Witch’s benevolence dorm, I am ready to give you another chance. So, Name-san, what is your answer? I hope this time you will make a right one."

list of prompts

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.