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#thank you for the ask!! I'm sorry I'm so late to answer it!
wand3rlustm3 · 2 days
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can you do best friend txt x reader confessing love for each other with a bunch of tooth rotting fluff/smut 🙏🙏🙏 (sorry if this isn’t very detailed i’m very tired 😭) love your work btw 🫶🫶🫶
Writer's Note: Thank you so so much, anonnie <333 I love you and appreciate your kind words very, very much. I'm so sorry for my late response, I actually saved this in my drafts a long time ago and forgot to post it. I am sorry if this isn't what you asked for, if you want me to change it I will happily do so, also I will upload part 2 soon! :)
Warnings: angst :( SORRY, fluff, smut :3
CONFESSIONS OF AN ANGEL Pt 1.
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Soobin
It seemed like these days you couldn't get through to him no matter what, It just didn't make sense. Why was he actively going out of his way to avoid you? You missed him, you missed his presence, you missed every ounce of him because being with him became a habit. It was to the point where your other friends kept asking you where he is, and you were tired of answering with the same, "he seems like he got busy"—a blatant lie to keep others assuming that your best friend is not even your friend anymore.
Soobin seemed to find any and every excuse, but it wasn't because he hated you. It was because of the very opposite, he knew that if he was around you for any longer, he simply couldn't take it. He'd have to confess to you that his feelings are much deeper than the feelings a person should feel toward their best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what he already had with you. In that fear, he'd coop up in his apartment and scratch his head at the many questions dabbling in his head. What if you didn't love him back? What if you'd be disgusted at his advances and find him creepy? What if— just too many "what ifs".
So at this point, you had to take matters into your own hands and angrily drag yourself to the doorstep of his apartment demanding an explanation. You were not letting him off so easily, there was no way that you'd let someone like him go without an explanation. So logically, you knock on the door multiple times, but since he doesn't open it, you speak through the door.
"Soobin, open the door. I need to talk to you right now. I don't know what's happened between us but you need to explain to me if I did anything wrong since the past two weeks you've been ignoring me. You haven't responded to a single message I've sent you, you haven't even been taking care of our cute little digital pet, you haven't even reached out once or at least told me what happened. Not only am I worried about you, but I'm scared that I'll lose you..." you spoke with a strong tone, but your voice cracked at the end and Soobin could just tell that you were going to cry.
"Y/n—please, go home." Soobin attempted to respond in a monotone voice, but you heard his voice shake as well.
Hot tears begin to roll down your face at his response. "Am I that terrible—? A- am I that terrible that you won't even say goodbye?" You stutter and speak through your light sob.
In that moment, Soobin can't control himself anymore. He pulls the door open as fast as he can and he pulls you into the tightest embrace. His strong arms wrap around you almost as if you'd slip away any moment, and he only lets go of you to put a hand over your chin to tilt your face upwards to him. "Y/n, it's actually the complete opposite. I'm so sorry, I'm an absolute idiot, aren't I? I didn't avoid you because I hated you, I've been avoiding you because—well, because I love you more than a best friend, I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I was scared that I'd lose everything I already had with you. So please, just....don't leave me y/n." His voice was shaking and there were tears rolling down his face.
You gently hit him in the chest and cry into the nook of his shoulder. There could be no better situation for you than for him to be in love with you, someone as perfect as him and kind could only be seen in fictional settings.
You speak as you sniffle, "Soobin, I love you too."
So the next thing you feel is his large hands gently cupping your cheeks as he leans down into you for a kiss. It's salty and sweet because of the tears that you taste on him, and you don't let go. It's almost as if your lips were made to mold together, as if your entire life—this is where you were supposed to end up, in his arms.
"I need to make you mine, please y/n?" Soobin breathed out as the bulge in his jeans became more evident as he grinded against you. His sexual frustration had been evident from his feelings being pent up for so long.
"Please take me, Soobin. I've been yours all along." You softly smile at him as you peer up at him. He makes you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you to the nearest wall, kissing down your neck as he deftly removes each piece of clothing of yours. He gently puts you on the ground only as he removes the last piece of clothing he has, until you're wrapped around his waist once again.
"You're soaking wet for me, y/n. A- ahhh, feels like—fuuuuck....feels like you were made for me." Soobin moans out as he dives his cock into you.
"Nnghhhh...soob please— I'm so close..."
"I'm—I am close as well...Cum with me y/n. Please baby, please do it for me. I love you, I love you so much, can't mmmh- can't live without you y/n..." Soobin almost begs you as he holds you so tight.
You're unable to register when it happened, but all you could see was white as you came all over his cock. His cum dripped out of you and down his cock as he was still inside. The warm spurts of his cum filling you up as his hips stutter and buck into you.
"You know that I can't live without you either, Soobin." You say as you kiss him once again.
Yeonjun
You had always known that your best friend was popular with girls since whenever you'd go around with him, you'd notice the nasty stares the girls would give you even more than usual.
There was an abundance of whispers that were intentionally loud enough for you to hear implying that you weren't good enough to be with him, and even more who would silently judge you. But, you'd brush it off since you were his best friend anyways. It had absolutely nothing to do with you, and could bother you less, but you had Yeonjun by your side and there's nothing more you could ask for. He was available at every call and beckon of yours, and neither of you questioned it. It was almost like it came to him naturally.
What you'd not understand is why so many people thought you were a couple when you were simply best friends. If only you'd have noticed the glimmer in his eyes and how they'd soften each time they landed upon your beautiful features. How his fingers would wrap around yours tighter when you'd walk across the crosswalk, or simply the change in his expression when he'd notice other men staring at you. Yeonjun realized that you're absolutely clueless to his feelings, despite thinking that he made it obvious.
Regardless, when you go to your favorite café to pick up your order, you suggest a way to pass the time quicker.
"Junnie, Let's have a staring contest! Winner gets to bake something and loser gets to wash the dishes, okay?" You speak in an excited tone, he wishes to express how he loves when your voice goes up a few decibels simply because of how excited you are, but he sticks with giving you a pretty smile of adoration instead.
"Okay y/n—1, 2.....3, start." He gently speaks as he intertwines his hands with yours and looks into your eyes. The both of you not blinking as you sit quietly in the middle of the café, easily being mistaken for a couple by any passerby once again. But, Yeonjun gets an idea to kill two birds with one stone. His expression softens even further, as he pulls the back of your hand to your lips and gives it a kiss.
"You drive me crazy, y/n." Yeonjun says.
And somehow, you start blinking to piece together what he means. He's told you he loves you before but not like this, he's kissed the back of your wrist lovingly, but not like this.
"W- what, what do you mean junnie?" You stumble over your words out of curiosity and shock.
"I mean it. I love you y/n, I want you to be the woman I wake up to every morning. I can't keep hiding my feelings for you anymore, I have to come clean and tell you the truth. I don't know how—but you never notice the smile on my face whenever someone asks if we're dating fade as you quickly call me your best friend. It's almost as if it's a horrible reality check, and I can't keep living like this. I want you to be my woman, I want you to be proud when you're walking with me on the street. And, more importantly, I need you." Yeonjun softly speaks to you as if every word of his was coated in honey, sweet and soothing.
The ride back to your home was extremely quiet and Yeonjun was as patient as he could be with you who were still shy from his confession. You hadn't uttered a word from that moment, and your face was hot to touch. After you got home, Yeonjun was afraid that he might have made the wrong move by confessing to you so suddenly. He didn't want to push you away. So, he slowly opened the door to peer into your room to ask if you're okay and apologize if it was out of line of him to say what he said.
"Y/n? Is everything okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He spoke with his signature pout on his plush lips in a sulky tone as he sat down onto your bed.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, I mean— junnie, it's just that I'm shocked—b- but in a good way! I d- didn't think y- you meant it in that way—" You stutter and the words stick to your tongue as if they're afraid to come out. But, Yeonjun's attentive eyes that have studied your expressions for so long know exactly what you're trying to say.
"Y/n, can i kiss you?" Yeonjun politely asks with the cutest smile on his face.
You simply nod yes, and that's enough for his lips to be on yours. As his lips slot right into yours, he drinks the taste of you in as if you were the most expensive and rare bottle of alcohol, he gets drunk off of you fast and can't seem to get enough. "Y/n....fuck. I've been waiting so long to tell you, I can't seem to get enough of you mmmh..." He speaks between his kisses.
"Junnie...please..." You say as you squeeze your thighs together now that he's hovering above you. "My baby wants me to take care of her? I've got you my love." Yeonjun knows all of your sensitive spots as he kisses them, making you feel a way only he can. Something so special behind each kiss he leaves behind, every kiss different from the previous. Yeonjun slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and looks into your eyes to check if there's any signs of hesitation, only taking it off when he knows you really want him as well.
Once all of your clothes are off, Yeonjun places you in his lap straddling him. His belt undone as he lifts his hips to rid himself of the confinement that are his stiff jeans, giving his boner no place to breathe. You drip onto his cock as he splits you apart with his hands tightly gripping your hips, slowly moving you up and down on him. "Mmmh—junnie...can't take it anymore!" You plead, and Yeonjun understands as he speeds up and bucks into you to match the way your hips move on him.
"Fuck baby—m' all yours...give it to me. Give me everything, you're mine—nnngh!" Yeonjun grunts as he spills into you, and you feel fuller than ever. You remain in his lap even as you shake in his embrace, so safe and so happy. And most importantly, you're all his, and he's all yours.
Beomgyu
Beomgyu and you had a lot of history, I mean, you basically knew him your whole life. If anything, you've memorized every expression, every tinge of emotion, every sarcastic comment, and most of all, his way of being himself. You couldn't tell if it was your intuition or what, but you felt as if something had shifted between you and Beomgyu. It wasn't that he was acting any differently— he was still beating you at every single game you played with that classic cocky smirk on his face, he was making you laugh just as much, and everything was the same. You brush it off as simply overthinking and change the topic, "Gyu! Give me your controller, the player one title is putting you at an advantage!!!".
"What if I said sitting next to you is already putting me at a disadvantage?" Beomgyu looked into your eyes and said it in his usual tone, so why did it make you so sad? It made no sense.
"W- What do you mean, gyu? Do you want me to sit somewhere else? I can g-" You sulk and say as you shift away from him on the loveseat you sat on, until you feel a warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist. With the stern look on his face, tears threaten to spill from your glistening eyes. "Gyu— please...I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry for sitting next to you and being so loud, I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry—"
"Y/n, no— that's not what I– just please stop crying, baby"
The silence in the room was so thick that you could almost hear your teardrop fall down your face. Did he just call you baby? Were you hearing things now? Beomgyu mentally cursed himself multiple times because, firstly, he made you cry. Secondly, he just accidentally (on purpose) called you baby.
"G- Gyu? D- Did you just—" You ask until your words are cut off by the feeling of Beomgyu's lips on yours. They're so soft and you forget why you were crying. You believe that if heaven had a feeling, it would feel something like this. Beomgyu reluctantly pulls back to finally tell you what he's wanted to for years now.
"You always talk too much, think too much, and jump to conclusions. why can't you just listen for once? I said it's a disadvantage to sit next to you because I can't focus on the TV screen, your eyes suck me in like some black hole and i just can't look away from all of those cute expressions you always make when you can't win against me. And, it's not even that, I lose my mind each time you call me by my nickname. You don't even know what you do to me." Beomgyu's hand lightly snakes up the side of your face as he wipes your tears away with his thumb. "Please stop torturing me, I need you to be mine."
You give him the same smile you did when you both first met long ago, and he swears that he feels exactly the same he did, he never seemed to get used to how it seemed like you were made for him. "Then why did you not give me a hug properly earlier? I've been thinking you're angry at me." You speak between sniffles.
"It's because I can't stand it when your body is pressed against mine, It physically hurts to feel how warm and soft you are and not be able to have all of you." Beomgyu spoke in a serious tone while looking into your eyes hazily. You felt horrible now, because you now realize why he always has a pillow on his lap when he comes over.
"Gyu m' sorry, let me make it up to you", with the cutest look in your eyes, you drop to your knees and get on the ground in front of the loveseat. It wasn't out of guilt or pressure, you just felt pathetic because you knew how frustrating it was to try to get yourself off after he left as you moaned out his name. "Y/n...." Beomgyu sighed.
As you sit eye level with his hips, you realize how bad it was for him, only making you move faster as you unzip his pants and pull out his leaking cock from the confines of his underwear. Your hand strokes him a few times as he lets out whiney moans while you continue your ministrations. "Ahhhh y/n mmh, fuck" Beomgyu moans out as you take him into your mouth as your tongue traces the veins on his cock as if to memorize those as well.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Oh my god. My fucking woman, my goooood, my pretty baby...hah—gonna fuckin cum. Take every last drop.....take it. take it. take it fuuuuuckkkk." His hands lace into your hair, somehow using the last bit of self control he has left to not start fucking into your throat. You continue bobbing your head as you suck him dry and swallow every single drop. Beomgyu's mind foggy, but only with the idea of how he's going to make sure you know how many feelings he's been holding to be exact.
"I'm going to show you just what you mean to me, baby."
-
\(>_<)/ ty for reading
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nymph. [1/2] l General Marcus Acacius
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Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you
Warnings:  fluff, some nudity, battle flashbacks, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way
A/N: quick shot. two part story. smut - definitely in the second part. I had a lot of pleasure writing this. I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
"So this is the place you chose for your solitary travels... I wondered where you've been disappearing lately."
A shiver ran down your arms at the sound of a slightly amused and familiar voice. You quickly stood up from the bed and curtsied, lowering your gaze.
"My lady." You said quietly. "Please don't be angry with me. I didn't think you'd notice my absence."
"I see many things, my dear. But no, I'm not angry." She replied, you raised your gaze and looked into the beautiful and wise face of Minerva. The armor she was wearing gleamed gold, reflecting the trembling flames of the candles, and although she was leaning on a spear, the head of which looked menacing, her face was gentle and a bit pensive. "I'm rather intrigued by your choice. General Acacius, I didn't think he was the one stealing you from me."
You felt the warmth that crept up your neck and cheeks, you looked down again, and Minerva laughed quietly.
"I'm glad." she added after a moment. "He's one of my favorites. He has all the features I like so much. Although, he's still a mortal."
Your gaze wandered to the man sleeping in the bed. A white sheet wrapped around his hips, he slept on his stomach, and the strong muscles of his back were outlined under his sun-kissed skin. 
Dark, tousled hair, soft stubble on his face, and those plush lips, the General looked almost like one of the statues you saw in your lady's temples. This was how ordinary people imagined gods, and you, spending time with them, saw their features in this mortal. A delicate smile crept onto your lips.
"I like watching him." you said quietly "When he sleeps, when he plans the strategy for the next battle or when he just sits alone and simply thinks. Never before have any of them drawn me to them so much."
The goddess looked at you, clearly intrigued. "Never?" she repeated "You lived long before him and you will live long after his body turns to dust. So why him?"
You didn't know the answer to that question. And you had long since stopped asking yourself.
It was the sounds of joy at the victory that caught your attention and drew you to the place where you first saw General Marcus Acacius. Since you were a nymph of the goddess Minerva, ordinary mortals couldn't see you like that, so you easily made your way between the crowded soldiers and stood near the General. 
The rays of the sun reflected off the golden face of Medusa on his chest, and his face, although covered in battle dust and the blood of his opponent, glowed in the glory of victory. Your heart beat faster in your chest and you knew you wouldn't leave him again.
At first it was curiosity, just like the one children have inside them. You followed him, listened to his low and melodic voice, noticed how he sounded when he gave orders and how he talked to others. You learned the names of his direct subordinates, learned his customs, spent hours in the tent with his commanders listening to their discussions about strategy and the art of war.
You were like the wind that followed him wherever he went, but you also had to remember your duties. Then you returned to your mistress, the goddess Minerva, having previously thoroughly cleaned your hands and feet of the camp dust. You didn't think she saw all of this.
"I feel that this is my place, my lady." you spoke after a long moment of thought "I don't know why... Is it normal? Or right? I've heard people talk about fate, but I'm not one of them so I don't know if it applies to me too. My lady?"
You looked pleadingly at Minerva's wise face. You didn't know anyone else who could answer that question. However, she was staring at you with almost motherly tenderness and soon your name flowed from her lips like a sonorous melody.
"You know that he will die someday." she said, "People are mortal. They have their weaknesses, their bodies age. You have observed it for so many centuries, and despite everything you have become attached to one of them. It really surprises me, but I look at it with great pleasure."
You smiled at her, your eyes once again turning towards the sleeping man. "Can this be called love? Is this what people talk about and desire?"
"You have to see for yourself, my dear."
It was another night when he saw her face again. He almost got used to her presence, although he never really saw her for real. Or maybe? 
Marcus remembered exactly that one moment when he had the impression that he saw her face in reality, because until then she had visited him only in dreams. 
It was a cruel battle. The soldiers fought hard and fiercely. Hundreds of the fallen were lying on the ground, and shattered shields and swords were lying around them, useless for anything. 
He was dazed, he could still hear the pounding of his heart in his ears, his lungs were still fighting for every breath, but when he looked up he saw her. 
She was standing in the middle of it all, not very clear as if she was a remnant of fog. The rays breaking through the thick clouds illuminated her silhouette. He saw sadness and fear on her face as her eyes moved from one dead face to another. And then she looked straight at him, her lips moving as if she whispered his name. He wanted to say something, run to her even though his body was sore, but then he heard the terrifying shriek of crows, he blinked, and she disappeared.
Marcus rinsed his face with cold water and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He felt tired. He would rather fall back into a dream in which this wonderful woman accompanied him, than put on armor and go to a military review.
He felt tired of the constant war he was fighting. The Roman Empire was growing every day. More and more space, more and more people to feed. Meanwhile, the Emperor sat in Rome and reveled in the next ships and carts full of treasures that his generals sent to him. This was not how it should be.
"You carry so much on your shoulders, Marcus. Too much for one man."
You sat on his bed, looking at him with sympathy. You liked talking to Marcus, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. Over this long time, you got to know him so well that you were able to recognize what was bothering him. And lately, many things were turning in his head.
You bit your lip as you allowed yourself to admire his naked body. He was strong, well-built. With broad shoulders, a strong back and long legs. You saw that charming happy trail that led straight to his impressive manhood. Even as a nymph you could feel desire, and you certainly did, looking shamelessly at this man.
As soon as Marcus pulled on his tunic, one of the messengers entered the tent.
"General." he said, bowing his head. "A message from Rome. The Emperor orders you to return. He will welcome you to the city with all the honors befitting a victor."
Acacius took the sealed message from the man's hand and signaled him to leave. Rome seemed so distant to him. However, after so long, it was good to return to civilization again. Although he loved the army, its order and rules, he missed his bed and home. A home that was just walls, because years of war and wandering didn't give him the opportunity to create something more there.
You went up to him and rested your head on his shoulder to read the message brought by the messenger.
"Rome! It's exciting." You said with joy. "There will be triumphal processions and the sound of trumpets. Rose petals falling on you from the sky like rain from the clouds... You, people, love such splendor."
Your hand slowly slid his arm. You felt his skin under your fingers, the small bumps that were traces of the wounds he had sustained. But his warmth was what you liked the most. You could feel it, but you couldn't give it to him.
When he put on the armor, your fingers playfully moved over each element. You liked Medusa's golden face the most, you always felt sympathy and compassion for her. When the sword hung at his side, you moved away, then followed him like an obedient servant.
People always amused you a little. They didn't see you, nymphs, although sometimes they managed to catch your faint reflection. Then they told stories about your beauty and tempting shapes. You knew many stories, good and bad, about what happened to you, and even more of them were unknown to ordinary people.
You had the impression that Marcus had experienced it once. You were a little careless then. Death and destruction made your heart ache, it was enough for his eyes to capture your image. That was the first time you felt his gaze on you, for real. He wasn't looking through you, he wasn't looking over you, but at you. That scared you and you didn't come to see him for the next few days.
"General, the troops are ready for review." reported some captain whose name you couldn't remember.
"I got information today that we are going back to Rome." Marcus said as they walked together along the first row of men. "That's good, people should rest."
"And you will once again receive the honors worthy of a hero of the Empire." the captain smiled. "I even sympathize with you, these meetings in the Emperor's palace must be tiring."
"Sometimes I think that being here is less bothersome than there, Aurelius." Marcus sighed and rubbed his furrowed brows with his hand.
"Did you sleep badly?"
"I don't think so. Only one dream has been bothering me for weeks."
Aurelius looked at his friend carefully. "A good dream, I hope? Full of wine, music and beautiful women, eh?"
Marucs stifled a laugh. "Of course, my friend."
He was lying. You both knew it. For weeks, you had been a guest in his dreams, only the places changed. 
A meadow full of flowers, where a warm wind flowed calmly. Or the seashore, in the abyss of which the sun disappeared, leaving a blood-red hue in the sky. Sometimes it was a bed, but different from the one he fell asleep in.
And you? You were beautiful. Sometimes dressed in a loose toga, sometimes naked. But you always gazed at him with love, whispered tender words, told stories that he thought he had heard before. Maybe when he was a child...
There were nights when he felt your lips on his neck and chest, or your fingers moving through his hair. Then he woke up hard, feeling as if just a moment ago your hand had really caressed him.
He didn't want to tell anyone that he felt watched, because he didn't know how to explain it. However, this feeling was with him almost all the time. Or when he was still half asleep and had the impression that he felt the shadow of a body lying next to him. Was he starting to go crazy?
You spent another day with him. The tent Marcus occupied felt almost like home to you. You sat on the edge of his bathtub as he took a bath, shamelessly watching his naked body glisten in the candlelight.
"I want to see you... Once again..."
His quiet voice tore you from your reverie. You looked at his face. His eyes were closed. You could see the wrinkles around his eyes perfectly, his neck that was perfect for showering with kisses, his arms were spread out on the edges of the bathtub, and his lips moved again.
"I know you're here with me... I can't see you, but I can feel you."
You leaned over him. Your lips were a few inches apart. You could clearly see his long eyelashes, you could feel his breath on your lips.
"I would give everything for one tender look from you..."
You parted your lips slightly and brushed his. It wasn't even a kiss, just a brush. Less than an accidental touch. But Marcus sighed as if his prayers had been answered.
"I guess I should feel embarrassed catching you in such a situation."
A quiet squeal reached your ears. You turned around and put your finger to your lips, but you smiled.
"Shush! He's sleeping." You said reproachfully to the young girl standing in the dark corner of the tent.
She silently approached the bed and leaned over the General with curiosity as if he was some really interesting phenomenon. You sat astride Marcus' hips and for a few hours you had been staring at his sleeping face. He dreamed about you, about both of you. It was a good dream, you were watching over it. You wanted him to rest, so that he wouldn't worry about anything else.
"My Cyrus was younger than him." She stated after thinking for a while.
"And he was a shepherd of sheep!" you laughed, "He's a general."
"Both equally mortal."
Her words momentarily extinguished your smile. It was true. Death was equal for everyone.
"What are you doing here?" you asked to forget for a moment about the separation that awaited you someday. "I thought you didn't like military camps."
"Our lady sent me to you." your friend and sister in one smiled, her eyes sparkling. "But before I tell you her words, tell me, do you really love him?"
You looked again at Marcus' sleeping face. You knew this map by heart. Every gesture, grimace, look. You knew him.
"I've never known love before." you answered truthfully. "But I know I'd like to be able to feel it, you know. Once, for a few moments, he looked into my eyes. It was less than one breath, but I felt like never before... I would give anything to be able to feel it again."
A delicate hand rested on your shoulder. "You've been visiting his thoughts for so long that his heart is directed only towards you. Our lady sees that, and she's the wisest of us all."
"She must be laughing at me, right? Such simple desires and..."
"Don't say that." she interrupted you quickly. "Our lady never does such things. She loves you and Marcus. You both have a special place in her heart."
Your eyes filled with tears. "Thank you." you whispered quietly. "What message do you have for me, love?"
Your friend's face brightened and then she came closer to your ear. She whispered quietly, but you understood every word perfectly. 
"Our lady asks you to live. She wants you to truly live. To feel. To love. To desire. To be seen. Our lady will fulfill your request, sister. Let immortality leave you, leave the body of a nymph and become one of the mortals. Fulfill your destiny."
For a moment you lost your breath, and a strange and disturbing shiver ran through your entire body. You felt a coldness you had never felt before. You saw the face of your dearest sister before you, but it was different, like a cloud of very thick fog.
"We will create myths and sing songs about your love." she said smiling "And when I’m next to you, you will feel me.”
Her lips brushed your temple, and warm tears ran down your cheeks as you closed your eyelids. When you opened them, she was no longer next to you.
For a moment, you tried to understand what had happened. You felt your senses overloaded, everything around you suddenly sharpened and darkened.
And then you felt it. Warm and strong hands tightened tenderly on your thighs, squeezing them gently. A familiar voice rang in your ears like never before.
"You're here... I can finally see you."
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
taglist: @ashleyfilm
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hearts4werka · 9 hours
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Drugged Love
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Summary: You and Chris meet when you're coming back from a gang meeting and he is coming back from a deal, your apperance caught his attention but him suddenly popping out from an alleyway makes you react in the opposite way he though you would. He places his number into your phone but you have to keep the relationship a secret because of your involvement with the dangerous gang… Genre: ANGST & SMUT (further into the story there will be smut dw) Drug dealer x gang member, ?strangers to lovers? Gangster, drug dealer, dark themes, alleyways, driving late at night, rainy night, troubled characters, third person pov and possibly more! Warnings: mentions of drug usage & being under the influence of hard drugs, gang involvement at a young age, illegal weapon possession, involvement in illegal activity, being held at gun point, ?slight threatening?, dark subjects will be involved further into the story including different types of childhood trauma, ass content ahead and possibly more!
The idea is from @leoslaboratory and was requested by @yourmother29 in this ask so thank you both luvies!
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"Have a good night everyone." I say to the people left in the conference room as I rise from my chair, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair and walk out of the room.
“Bless your soul, child.” I hear one of the older women who were remaining in the conference room, shooting her a warm smile as she lights a cigarette that way neatly placed between her lips who do look like they haven’t met male lips nor seen chapstick in at least 25 years.
Walking down the stairs of the building and out of the exit I look around on the streets to make sure no one was lurking in the shadows behind the streetlight softly lighting the road and side walk.
My outfit mostly consists of the color black which is typically normal but having the hood of my hoodie over my head and my clothing cocealing most of my body which at night can be quite concearning and unsual to see. (I didnt find any reference for this so use your imagination)
I make my way back to my car, wanting to get back home after the meeting which lasted over an hour. Feeling the tiredness state affect my awarness of my surroundings, suddenly theres a tall, but significantly attractive man standing infront of me.
Out of reflex I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull out a gun, placing it against the man's forehead to stop him from any further movements, my finger already hovering over the trigger.
He visibly tenses and freezes in place, his vision falling onto the barrel of the cold metal gun against his forehead. A shiver running down his spine as he starts to speak in an almost oddly calm voice. Like he’s been in a situation like this before.
"Woah there, don't gotta be so hostile from the start. I was just passing by." He explains, raising his hands into the air in surrender to asuure me he wont be causing any harm to my human being and looking quite friendly but at the same time a bit high.
"Oh, I'm sorry its just a.. reflex I guess." I state in an apologetic tone, pulling the gun away from his forehead and back into the back pocket of my jeans, feeling slight guilt wash over my body at the sudden situation and my actions.
"You don't look like those typical girls walkin' back home this late, you bein' followed that you needa pull a gun on strangers?" He asks, a feeling of protectiveness washes over me at his question. It;s a weird feeling to be feeling to a man that you have just met.
"I can get pretty defensive when it comes to walking home at night. And no, no one is following me, atleast I don't think so" I answer, glancing around and comprehending my surroundings more than before and feeling certainly more awake now. Letting the tiredness state evaporate into the air.
“Ima walk you to wherever you gotta go, m’kay?” He insists, moving to stand next to me and ready to walk to my destination. Showing no signs of moving from his new currently taken spot.
“You don’t have to, don’t you also have places to be at?” I ask, still standing in the same spot I was from the beginning. Reassuring him that he doesn’t need to walk me back home and feeling slightly hesitant with a random stranger walking with me. “I’ll be fine, really. I know how to defend myself.”
“Yeah but I can’t let a pretty thing like you walk alone at night, especially with all the creeps around these alleyways.” He demands, clearly not taking my negative answer into consideration in his mind
Knowing that he won’t stop until I finally give in, I decide on just letting him walk with me. For some reason I feel like i can trust him and having a possible male friend that’s not a gang member is pretty refreshing.
“Fine, you can walk with me but don’t try anything funny or I’ll put a bullet through your skull.” I warn him, shooting him a slight glare and then chuckle at how his expression says that he knows I’m not kidding and that I am serious about the words I just spoke.
We take off from the spots we were stuck in for a few minutes and I start to make my way towards my car with him following close next to me.
“Soo… what’s with you carrying a gun around?” He finally speaks up, trying to make small talk as he looks me up and down in question, seeming a lot more calmer than others who I’ve had the fortune to have pulled a gun to their head.
“Well it’s not exactly legal and I can’t tell you the reason behind it.” I explain and wait for his reaction, noticing the wheels turning in his head with my words hanging in the tense air between us as small awkward silence joins in alongside the tense air.
He nods his head in understanding, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket which was softly draped over his shoulders. “M’kay, understandable.”
"Why are you out so late?" I ask my first question, a small chuckle escapes past his lips as he glances between me and the side walk ahead of him as we walk alongside each other.
"I think I should be asking that." He jokes, we share a small laugh and as his laugh hits my ears I feel slightly warmer inside, his laugh sounds like a small flower newly blooming before he starts to add, "but to answer your question, I was makin' a quick delivery"
I glance at him with slight confusion shadowing over my features, what kind of delivery is he talking about? he doesn't look like the type to deliver packages and with the current time, packages aren't delivered anymore.
"What kind of delivery?" My head tilting to the side in question, glancing up and down at his attire and observing him closely to try and pry an answer out of him from his appearance alone.
A chuckle rumbles in his throat at my question regarding his words, noticing me clearly observing him while thinking he's not gonna notice but with how my eyes were sliding down his form slightly scrunched in determination to get an answer, my intentions were obviously spotted.
"An illegal one." He answers straight to the point, I almost get taken aback by his sudden honestly given that we are strangers to each other and don't even know each other names yet. Quite shocking how quickly he seemed to warm up to me.
"So that makes us both involved in illegal activity," I summarise what I've caught from our current conversation we’re having before I add. "At least we got one thing in common so far." My brain is slowly easing into the information that this might be the longest walk I've been on.
As we finally start to reach the end of our little walk but just as the conversation starts flowing, I see a small glimpse of my car in the distance and feel slightly bummed that our meeting is soon going to come to an end.
I decide to just fuck it and ask for his number to maybe hang out in the near future together, ill be new air to breathe since he isnt involved with the gang I'm involved in. I’m nit sure in what illegal activity he is involved in but I wont stress over that for now.
We finally make it to my car, being only few feet away from it as i turn my head to look at him as he notices me glancing in the way of the black car and realizes it could possibly belong to me.
“Can you give me your phone for a sec?” He speaks up first, glancing down at me and at the black car we are now standing infront of and eyeing it up with quite the precision in his eyes.
Hesitant thoughts cross my mind as I slightly stare at him with confusion contouring my face, the only thing I get from him is a small laugh rumbling in his throat before he adds. “I’m not gonna steal it, don’t worry”
Still feeling slightly skeptic about this idea but I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and reveal my phone to him, before putting it in his direction and for him to easily grab I unlock it first as I assume he would want to use it for something.
Taking the opportunity he grabs ahold of my phone in his calloused hands and opens an app, quickly typing something out before handing it back that causes our hands to brush against each other.
As i take my phone back and shove it into my back pocket but pulling out my car keys and unlocking the car door, turning my head to glance back at him.
"See ya later, little trouble." He slighty teased, emphasizing the little nickname he suddenly thought of. My thoughts are mixed with the random nickname but I wont stress it too much until I get inside of my car.
He shoots me a small smirk that grows on his face before turning around, making his back face me now and starts to walk in the other direction. Slowly letting the dark shadows consume his form into their black wrath.
I open my car door and slide inside, slumping into my seat as my hands land on the steering wheel. My thoughts slowly wrapping their shadowy arms aroun dmy head and pulling me into the pitch black pit, I finally push the key into the keyhole and press the gas, pulling out of my parked spot and into the nightly street as rain starts tapping the roof of my car...
@hearts4werka
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authors note: heloo everyone! Soo here is the drug dealer Chris fic and I hope you guys liked it and would want more, I love hearing your guys thoughts on any of my work and if y’all see any improvement from the previous ones, your guys opinion matters to me so don’t be afraid to leave a comment sharing your thoughts if you want! And last question, do we fw the small text? Luv y’all so much
& love and peace, V
Guestlist!
| @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @deffonotjae - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @klaus223492 - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot |
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lycorim · 1 year
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In WereSigils Au, Mormonts obviously change into bears, so is that rumor of female Mormonts going into the woods to mate with bears kind of true? And it's zoophilia if you are also a furry? I have so many questions...
Oh god, now I can only imagine what a mess it would be if the Mormonts lived near the Tullys, since, you know, bears after hibernation like to fish during the annual trout rise.
Also, the Lannisters being apex predators totally useless because Cersei doesn't know how to do the lioness thing right for some reason warms my heart.
Oh God I never even thought about the bear technicalities!!! Oh NO!!
Maege Mormont hard eyeing Catelyn in the warcamps because Yeah That's A Trout and Catelyn getting Vibes off of her like 'is it a bear thing or should I be worried.' Momonts can absolutely (in bear or human form) reach into a river and just. pull out a fish. And Catelyn takes that personally.
And yes incompetent lioness Cersei is so <3 Go girl give us nothing!
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14dayswithyou · 11 months
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I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly
*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*
"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"
✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸
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He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.
So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.
...And even himself.
Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.
Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.
But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.
He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.
After all, you deserved nothing less.
Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.
Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.
But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.
Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.
("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"
"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")
So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.
Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.
Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.
Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.
And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.
You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.
"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"
There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.
Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.
Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.
"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"
There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.
"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"
Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.
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You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.
And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—
Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.
He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.
"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."
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*Hands this Sun drawing to you and then scampers away like the little gremlin i am*
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i just drew this in ibis paint on my phone at 4:45am.
(This is my neurodivergent way of saying HI!!!! I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT!!!!!)
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starts crying,,,,,, THANK YOUU!! ♡
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Here’s an interesting thought experiment. I was reading your post about the Commando app Beta 2.1 vs 3.1 debate and whether there was an Alpha app or a Beta 1.1. What if there was an Alpha app and Douglas tried it with Adam, the original bionic but it didn’t work right and caused some brain damage which is why Adam is like that? Douglas then realized that if he was going to put the Commando app in a bionic’s head that he needed to completely rewire their brain to be able to handle actually having information downloaded like a computer. By the time he realized this Bree was too far along so he turned his attention to the next subject. He made Chase more computer like and did a bunch of stuff that would allow Chase to handle actual changes to his brain from outside influences. It’s why Chase has the Commando and override app. The other two can’t have actual apps in their heads like that because they weren’t created to handle things like that.
Yayyy another person to talk about Spike/the Commando App with!!
And this is such an interesting thought that I love!! These are all great connecting ideas too, the idea that Chase has these apps because he has a computer in his mind to process and handle it all unlike his siblings and not just because his main ability is super intelligence. After all, he does have more room for upgrades than his siblings. I love this idea!
I do wonder though if after Douglas were to hypothetically do this he went and gave Adam and Bree some from of compatibility to their chips since Chase can connect to them essentially through bluetooth. But him having the computer not only for his intelligence but also for his apps and to process the use and control of these apps alongside his normal brain is really something to think about. Not only that, but he does have a bunch of wiring inside his head and a bunch of different scanners from his bionic eyes that are also linked to his computer system too (identifying people, fingerprint scanning, etc.)
And with the Commando App, we see that in both versions, especially the first one we see in 1x03, that there is a bunch of coding that appears during the activation and deactivation of the app. This almost seems to imply too that the app truly is still not 100% complete, which matches with the Beta version we see.
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We also see that the Commando App has an entire targeting system connected to Spike's vision. In the first version this comes in the form of Spike scanning the threat's face before completely locking onto the target as an "imminent threat."
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In the second version, this just comes in the form of a literal target being in Spike's vision. He also has a gauge that measures his aggression level, which obviously varies for him. Not only that, but on the right side of Spike's vision he has gauges to measure speed and visibility presumably of his target, which is kind of scary lol.
A mystery however is why does the chip interrupter not only not work on the Commando App, but instead makes Spike more aggressive? It most likely has something to do with affecting the computer system in Chase. Maybe it doesn't work because Spike is an app and is potentially more linked to the computer in Chase than his chip? Is it just a glitch in general? Is Spike's aggression increase also a glitch or is it a defense mechanism against an outside influence? Who knows!
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One last thing to note is the fact that after Spike takes a hard hit from Perry, it actually causes an error in Chase's computer system and glitches the Commando App out and forces it to disengage. Maybe this is something that would "naturally" happen or this is another example of the incomplete app being unstable (because one would imagine that this caliber of app and its purpose of fighting shouldn't be able to glitch out and shut down after a hard hit)
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Another intriguing thought is that a few of Chase's abilities are apps but are considered "abilities" like the Commado App or his Magnetism App, if that makes sense. Some of his "abilities" are directly related to his computer system as apps compared to his normal "abilities" like his laser bo or forcefield. I just thought that that was interesting to point out because I never really realized that until now!
There's a lot to think about with this, and since we were never meant to dive this deep into because it's a Disney XD show, there's a lot to play around with!
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ink-and-dagger · 12 days
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Hi Inky!
So, I was originally gonna comment this on ao3, but I realised it’d probably be easier to just write it in a tumblr ask. Anywho,
Galaxy here! I was the person that turned DWM into a physical book. If u don’t remember me, that’s all good! It was a while ago. I just wanted to say, after rereading DWM to celebrate the Arcane season 2 trailer, your writing is genuinely incredible. I have literally no other way to put it except saying it straight like that. And I’m not kidding when I say this fic changed parts of my life, and I just relived all of it again by rereading it. The way you word things, the metaphors, the symbolism (especially the horizon in Silco’s eyes aughhh it’s so perfect I’m sobbing-), it’s just perfection, and I can’t put it any other way. If I had the time to professionally analyse this fic, it would be pages and pages long. Anyway, I know this is super rambly (it’s about 1am where I live-), but seriously, thanks for doing what you’re doing, and writing what you’re writing. I can say that it’s not just my life you altered when you wrote DWM. I love it (and all your other works) with my whole heart. (And I may want rose tattoos now-)
- Galaxy <3
(Also, I saw that it was your birthday recently? Unless I’m mistaken - HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY!!!!)
SNIFFLESNUFFELSNIFF 🥺😭😭🥺
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Thank you so much my sweet Galaxy. Your words are so kind and I'm squirreling them away in my den so I can revisit and chomp on them whenever I need a pick-me-up. I'm always so pleasantly befuddled whenever people tell me that my writing has stuck with them over a long period of time - but regardless of whether my work deserves such an honour, it means the world nonetheless 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
P.S Yes it was my birthday earlier this month, thank you!
P.P.S You should definitely get rose tattoos and when you do send me a picture cus I wanna see
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kris-mage-fics · 3 months
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(Oooh we love an equal opportunity shipper and I didn’t know about the rest!) Shery Tallys Chase and Red x Kyrah and 6,7,14,26 and 29 for whatever pairing you want to answer for whatever question 👀
This gets long and there are some alpha build spoilers for #29 so I put at the end. Also, here are some answers about Kyrahlise's relationships with Blade, and with Tallys. (Romance Asks, which btw, if you want to ask any feel free to do so even though I reblogged ages ago. I promise it won't take me five months to answer, lol!)
6. Who is the big spoon? Big spoon: Tallys Little spoon: Shery They switch: Chase and Red, though I think they're both the big spoon more often than Kyrah
7. Favorite date activity? Shery: snuggling under a blanket and reading together, going to cozy tea rooms and cafes, taking crafty classes together
Red: picnics, star-gazing, trips to museums, infodumping to each other
14. Is there anything they associate with each other? Shery → Kyrahlise: room cat, bright smiles, drawings, fresh baked bread, letters and notes with little doodles, paint stained hands Kyrahlise → Shery: sweets (especially cake), morning, roses, racy novels, afternoon tea, floral scents
Chase → Kyrahlise: books, her perfume, rose gold and amethyst, the sound of a pencil on paper, painted flowers, linen sheets, sunshine (that’s his own damn fault tbh) Kyrahlise → Chase: her sun medallion, pretty daggers, open windows, fancy scarves, rings, midnight
(Red don't get one because he associates too. many. things. with his ex-girlfriend, and I haven't spent enough time with Tallys to know what she'd associate with Kyrahlise. Though I can say that Kyrah has a pattern of associating certain times of day with people, like Red is sunset, and Tallys is early morning.)
26. How important is the romance in your OC’s overall story?
No matter who Kyrahlise is with, the romance is important to her overall story. It helps her realize people do actually care about her as a person. Which is something she’s struggled to fully believe since her 13th birthday. She’d actually made a lot of progress on that during her time at the Circle. But the 9/10 years since she left set her back quite a bit.
Also Kyrahlise starts to unpack the idea that she’s a walking time bomb. She told the Shepherds the truth about her past in Chapter 3, and none of them treated her like a threat. Then someone falls in love with her knowing her role in Vale’s disappearance, and the god-like power she wields? There are only two conclusions she can draw. One: they are all suicidal idiots to not be scared of her. Two: She isn’t the existential danger she’s believed herself to be for 16/17 years. Since the first can’t reasonably be applied to everyone in the Shepherds, she has to start to let go of this belief. The fact that someone loves her is the final crack in the foundation of this idea, allowing her to clear away the pieces. 
Something I’ve mentioned before, though I don’t recall where, is that Kyrahlise is very determined to stay alive because she needs to keep the memories of Vale. This butts up against her bad habit of underestimating how much danger she is in, thus making her appear reckless. She also has a rather self-sacrificing nature. As you can imagine, this creates a strange cocktail of things going on in her head. Since joining the Shepherds, her terrible risk assessment, as well as her borderline reckless heroism, has really come to the fore. And she can justify these things as “doing her job”.
Once fully in a romance, she starts to be a little more careful. The thought of upsetting the person she loves by getting hurt when it could’ve been prevented is enough to give her pause. Though I do think this happens fastest if she’s with Blade, because he’s so protective of her (and would be the main thing they fight about). It would happen second fastest with Shery and Red since they are both worriers, and she feels guilty adding to that worry. But it does happen no matter who she’s with, just the speed and details change.
Not that Kyrah, or anyone, needs romance to learn these things. She’s just dense when it comes to what she means to people, platonically or romantically. She doesn’t put more value in romantic relationships, but she’s never been in love before (sorry Circle era Red, lol). The newness of this type of love makes it all the more raw and forces her to examine these beliefs faster.
29. What are your favorite moments that happen between them? (Spoilers for the alpha build below, so if you haven't played beyond the public demo feel free to skip this.)
Shery: In Chapter 8 during the first trial when you talk to everyone, you can heal Shery’s ankle, and the romance version of that scene had me kicking my feet and twirling my hair! The sweet longing looks, the touch of gentle sexual tension! Sometimes I just go back and reread that scene because I love it so much!
Tallys: I love how in Chapter 8 MC can comfort her! She’s so calm and in control of herself most of the time, that it’s really nice to be able to be there for her when she needs it. I like seeing a different side of her. Also, it amuses me that it turns into a make-out session, but that’s very Tallys!
Chase: Okay, the bed sharing scene in Chapter 7 where you can push the beds together with Chase absolutely destroys me! I honestly cried the first time I read it! He’s so sweet and tender, and clearly already head over heels for MC. But MC feels like they can’t trust that side of him. 
Red: Gods, it’s hard to pick! Is it his second day off with the awkward encounter at lunch? Or in Chapter 5 when he doesn’t want MC to know he got propositioned? Or that conversation in Chapter 7 where he’s trying to suss out if MC is into him, and then the kids interrupt?
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papirouge · 7 months
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Radfems are sooooo frustrating sometimes because they will blithely support abortion without examining how it upholds the status quo: "oh well with abortion women won't have to stay trapped with abusive men or be tied to a man for 18 years" the problem I have with this is that this does not actually solve this issue. You know what would? Making it easier for women to escape these situations without forcing them into an abortion.
It's kind of like saying abortion helps poor women because they don't have to spend money on another child... except a lot of those women would have kept their babies if they had money and support. An abortion is not really help. You're side-stepping the issue entirely and perpetuating a lot of societal inequality for the sake of upholding abortion as an institution. It's weird and you can't talk about it without people losing their minds and saying, "um um um but what about the women who have to live now and not in the future where your perfect pro-life utopia exists?" Yeah well you could start by helping local women who are on the fence and need help NOW, today, this very moment, and not the feckless "well you made the right decision, get over it" kind of way I see from these types. I don't see a whole lot of pro-abortion advocates out there donating money or baby clothes to pregnant women in need and they fire bomb pregnancy resource centers, which do, so..... ya know
Anyway sorry for the rant, I hope you're doing well, I hope the rest of 2024 treats you kindly!
Yeah, this abusive men talking point is so wack to me because a man can turn out to be abusive AFTER having children. Should women refrain from having children altogether to avoid the possibility of being linked for 18 years+ with an abuser??
There are tons of reasons women stay with abusive male. One doesn't need a child with a man to stick with him. It's so wicked to shift the blame of female abuse onto babies to remove from them the right to exist because they MIGHT get in the way of a woman's freedom. I always said that abortion culture was the transmission of the sins of patriarchy onto innocent babies, and I stand on that ground.
Radfem will defend their anti prostitution stance by saying "if it wasn't for money, those women wouldn't do that, so prostitution is inherently coercive and wrong" and yeah they're absolutely correct for that. But when prolifers say "if it wasn't for money, a significant amount of women wouldn't abort, that's why pushing for abortion onto poor women as a solution is taking the problem by the wrong end, and glossing over a deeper issue that's the financial vulnerability of women as a class" it's a problem and HOW DARE YOU QUESTION A WOMAN'S CHOICE??!? .... that's why I can't help but roll my eyes whenever I see radfem look down on choice feminism because...honey, that's you 🥴
There's no bigger choice feminist than a radfem defending abortion LOL
Radfem mock the transcult but they embrace the exact them cultish hive mind whenever a woman remotely questions the Holy Abortion. They elevated a bunch of idols out of their cult (pro abortion merch) and like the typical fanatics, attack whoever goes against their gospel. Have you witnessed how enraged radfem are against reverts (ex radfem who either became tra or tradfem) or worse: PRO LIFER??
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can-of-slorgs · 6 months
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Im dying at your tags on that last anon 😭😂 youre now the dr.sloth pinup artist that neopets needed
Not the title i wanted to craft for myself when i started this blog but hey, it brought us such good memories like
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nocentis · 4 months
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Black Arum ┆ Siegrain
Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.
╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.
A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.
That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.
So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.
╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.
Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.
Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.
There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.
“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.
The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.
He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.
Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 
Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”
Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.
A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.
His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.
"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”
The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.
His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.
He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.
He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”
Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 
He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.
But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.
He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.
The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.
Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.
It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.
Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.
He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.
This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.
A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.
She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.
What are these hands for if not this?
Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.
The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.
Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 
What are these teeth for if not this?
Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.
The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.
He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.
Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.
He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.
You’re no better than this starving world.
He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.
#v: ✗ ┆ siegrain ┆ ◜ canon divergent ◞#⚶ ┆ ◜ drabbles ◞#I was in a silly goofy mood#reader beware#this one was an exorcism.#needed to purge this depravity.#hey guys what if I bare my soul and it's a festering wound.#did I provide context? no. am I sorry? also no.#this only works in darkverse.#this is very obviously not inline with canon Jellal's personality but with a mutated version of him I created to balance ->#the healing arc I'm putting him through in mainverse.#not love but a secret other thing (obsession. possession.)(...take my money... I don't need that shit...)#& now she haunts the narrative. in my mind. and his too.#In my defense I've never claimed not to be a degenerate#yeah actually I am kind of embarrassed about this thank you for asking#never thought I’d have to say this but I do not endorse or condone cannibalism.#hey Sieg have you ever thought about chilling. calming down perhaps. I say as if I did not put him in this situation.#I fear this is one of those things I’m going to look back on in a few months & say: that should've stayed in the drafts.#me personally I love posting cringe. it's what I deserve.#if god exists I will have to answer for this. catch me in the river Acheron sipping on straight up anguish.#can you tell I have been confronted by the fleeting nature of mortality more often than usual lately. be honest.#actually I decided to not to go too into depth with the gore this time. I feel like keeping it vague lends more to the fugue state#also because it was giving me REALLY weird dreams. so like. yeah. I could've made this worse. but should I have?#tags bout damn long as the drabble. sorry gang.#cannibalism tw#gore tw#main character death tw#body horror tw#dayne’s depravity#daynedepravity
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ddeongies · 4 months
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hii just wanted to say that you make the best aus i really cant wait for your next update pls never stop writing
hi hi hi sorry for the late reply!! thank you so much for this ask it made me 🥺🥺🥺
i hope you keep enjoying my writing!! i definitely have more planned and written that i'm so so excited to post :))
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poindexters-labratory · 3 months
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Please tell me that Vincent has purple hair and likes toast!!!
Vinny my beloved <3
This is the only picture I have of him and it's taken on my phone:
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Yes, he does have purple hair :3o And he looks a whole lot like William. That's kind of how he suspected something weird was going on was Vincent has a lot of William's features: big eyes, his teeth have the same gaps and hypodontia (missing teeth), his height, and general face shape.
They initially met at a museum-like Freddy's location that I've nicknamed the Emporium. Michael came in as a historical consultant because he's Michael Afton. Vincent was working there for the summer amidst doing summer school for his senior year of high school.
Vincent's mom is a woman that Michael knew and dated in high school, River, and they met each other again at a high school reunion in 2003. Michael left to head back to LA shortly after that, never notified that she was pregnant.
So, it's a bit of a shocking surprise for Mike to find out he has a son after eighteen years. Especially because River wants nothing to do with him considering what has happened to his family. But Vincent feels the opposite way.
Michael finds his presence a bit annoying and haunting. He sees a lot of his father in Vincent, Vincent being high energy, extroverted, and incredibly smiley. Michael also is not ready to be a father, he's way too concerned with the rest of the fnaf lore and himself. Eventually, he starts to warm up a bit and stops comparing him when he starts to accept the concept that his father may indeed just be gone and everything is over.
That's not the case, but he can believe that for the time being.
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skykashi · 1 year
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I think Kakashi needs two chairs to sit down because look at that ass😏😳
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Ikr? 😂😂 What is he going to do with all that cake?
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commsroom · 1 year
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As our resident Eiffel expert, what do you think his childhood was like? As in, do you think there might be some trauma there? (Probably nothing “major”— nothing he’d think of as trauma— but I feel like it probably wasn’t entirely healthy either. Or maybe that’s just projection due to knowing someone veeery similar to Eiffel)
oh! i wrote about some of that in this post.
that line from his backstory doc - "eiffel was extremely hesitant at first, but desperate to become independent from his family and strapped for cash, he finally relented." - and what gabriel urbina said about eiffel being an unsupervised "tv is my parent" kid really defines / reinforces my perception of his childhood. like, mostly i think eiffel's parents just... weren't around. i think he was an only child, and hasn't been in contact with his family for, like, his whole adult life. he's resentful about people always forgetting his birthday in a way that makes sense if he's been holding onto that hurt since childhood. he's so used to being alone - not even being present in his own life - and he's internalized the feeling that he doesn't matter much to anyone. i think it was @books-space-things who said something to me, like, eiffel is so used to being alone, he doesn't realize how lonely he is.
most of his relevant backstory stuff with canon basis is covered in that linked post, so, on the headcanon side of things... he's got that undiagnosed / unmedicated adhd; i'm sure as a kid he was constantly getting the message, like, "i know you can do this, why don't you try harder?" and he didn't know why it was hard for him, so he thought he must just be lazy. i think he really wanted a dog, and either 1) really got his hopes up, but never got one, or 2) had a dog, but came home from school one day to find out his parents gave it away. if his parents were still together, they probably shouldn't have been. needless to say, i don't think he had a happy childhood, but i don't know if he fully recognizes the ways it was unhappy, because more than anything it was just kind of... empty? because his parents' lack of attention meant he got to like, stay up and watch movies all night on a school night, and eat junk food, and go wherever he wanted by himself, whenever he wanted... when he's talking about his childhood, sometimes he mistakes that for freedom. and that kinda ties into his pop culture escapism. but, like, he's probably got a core childhood memory of waiting for one of his parents to take him to / pick him up from something they completely forgot about. pretty much his whole life, i think eiffel's been training himself to expect disappointment.
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