#thought is gone .but theres connections somewhere Tumblr posts

[c-kiddo]

No because the nudity thing is genuinely really annoying >:( People gotta stop demonizing having a body. Like god forbid you draw a character who happens to have body parts that aren’t fully covered!! I’m genuinely really hesitant to draw my characters in any sort of “artistic nudity” or whatever people call it, ‘cause I just KNOW people are gonna be childish or gross about it which makes me sad :(( Nudity isn’t inherently sexual but people have been convinced it is

ya literally .. . .like absolutely pains me to see an artwork someone has spent hours and hours on clearly and the character is naked, and then everyone is just going Boobs! Dick!!! haha! like are you 5? its ridiculous. (also vaguely related to art as internet content and people feeling like they need to comment a meme or be funny in reply for whatever reason).. anyway, yea. ik people are dicks (ha) and annoying but do it ! try it out and draw full nudity , its epic ^_^

[miiilowo]

Highlights / Notable info from the second Scott Cawthon Dawko interview for people who don't want to watch it

MISC/START OF INTERVIEW

- scott says the 1 thing he'd wanna go back and change/fix the past 10 years is FNAF world; said a lot of weird/bad decisions were made going into it, that he didn't like the graphics and it Could Have been a good game but he doesn't like it overall & he may consider making an improved sequel

- he was scared to hand FNAF over to steel wool but he thinks he got lucky w/ them

- refuses to play both FNAF VR games because they genuinely scare him too much; didn't want to beta test them (funny)

- he very much knows the fandom prefers pure horror and the supernatural but cant resist leaning into scifi stuff

- doesn't like the names burntrap and glitchtrap and they were supposed to be temporary

SECURITY BREACH

- half blames covid splitting up steel wools workforce for the games lack of quality and delays

- says his "vision of the game" was misaligned with steel wool, that he had a "very specific story in mind" for security breach and it didnt pan out like he wanted

- he takes fault for it, saying he conveyed it in a bad way; "I was trying to tell steel wool to do specific things throughout the game, put specific items in specific places, have specific characters do certain things, meanwhile not TELLING them what the story plot was. Because in my head, I was thinking 'Okay, when people find this, they'll connect this to this to this & it will all be revealed, and I thought I could do that without telling steel wool the story plot. That didn't work out very well because they got all of these pieces, and they thought it was their job to connect them in a way that made sense. And so really what you ended up having were the same pieces telling completely different stories...I don't blame them for that, I blame myself for that, because what I should have done was gone 'hey, heres the story, the pieces are here, here's how theyre supposed to connect'."

- burntrap originally even supposed to move; just supposed to see something you saw in between machinery or in corners, that you werent supposed to know his purpose even though he used to have a very specific one (that the fandom doesnt know)

- he knows it didnt turn out like anyone wanted & thats why they made the RUIN dlc, he hopes it redeemed security breach

- he said hes learned from that mistake with security breach and things should be better in the future

- he cannot share any thoughts on the mimic

- he likes vanny a lot, shes one of his favorites and he thinks that shes underutilized and should get more spotlight in the future

THE BOOKS

- process is 'he has an idea, he proposes it to the writers, they flesh it out'

- he likes bunny call the most, and that it's not entirely made up; he took his family to a summer camp. 2 older kids 2 babies. one of the things you could sign up for was a 'panda call' . a very 'deceiving title', he says. early in the morning, a bunch of the camp counselors dressed as killer clowns would come into your cabin and scare the kids to wake them up early and drag them off to do their daily activities (?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????) and he knew this was the case, & before it happened he started to sort of feel bad that he signed up his two youngest kids for it so he crept outside in the dark and 'started listening for screams' early in the morning. 'somewhere in the dark in these trees theres clowns and theyre coming for my cabin'

- acknowledges the fazgoo is weird and bad.

- the 'creature on the cover of blackbird is my sleep paralysis demon' (quite literally)

- says his least favorite story is the guy getting pregnant with springtrap's baby and that he Doesnt Know What He Was Thinking, that he swears he 'wasnt trying to pick on matpat'

- he says theres potential for the books to be adapted into shorts goosebumps style, but hes afraid it might be 'too much' and oversaturate the franchise

THE MOVIE

- he says a big issue was that there was material thats difficult to translate to the big screen; the nuance of the antagonists being that the animatronics are possessed by the spirits of innocent children, and he wanted to preserve the innocence of the victims while also having the horror and the kills, and thats a big part of why several screenplays got scrapped; he was more picky/cautious about that than anything else

- says the victims are sort of like 'confused, scared animals backed into a corner, who believe that adults are out to get them' & thats part of why they kill people + the manipulation from william afton

- he likes the movie overall but thinks specific things could be improved and they aim to do that with the second movie, but doesn't want to dwell on those shortcomings too much

- hes perfectly happy with critics hating it but the fanbase loving it & that was his goal for it

- when the movie began showing in theatres he said: 'i told myself i wasnt gonna go online i wasnt gonna read any reviews i had already told everybody at blumhouse and i told my legal team DONT talk to me DONT call me DONT email me DONT send me charts DONT send me facts or figures i dont want hear ANYTHING', saw 1 negative review on accident then started reading all of them immediately before the 2nd showing even happened

- 'for a couple of hours there i was distraught, i thought it was a complete disaster' (based off the initial negative critic reviews, before learning how much the fans loved it)

SECOND MOVIE

- Not giving away many details, but following the same formula; 1st movie based on 1st game, 2nd movie based on 2nd game, etc

- Thinks people will like it, that the setup for the 1st movie was the hardest part but now that they have that launch pad to go off of and hes really fond of what they have planned

- Emma Tammi is also directing the second one

INTO THE PIT GAME

- was originally just supposed to be a short novelty game, but they made something really good and he encouraged them to keep going & its turned into a full-fledged game

- he says its going to be a very 'unique experience' and that everyone will like it a lot

- says working with megacat (studio for the game) has been 'weird but good', that theyll vanish for several months and return with a bunch of info

SPINOFFS, GENERAL FRANCHISE STUFF, FUTURE PLANS

- Would want to work on a game based off of Fetch and that he thinks it'd be really cool

- Says he feels like he's sort of lost touch with the fanbase as things have gotten bigger

- Wants to have a better structure for managing a twitter page, official news feed, etc., wants more management than just Himself because it'd better service the fanbase

- He says theres another game planned with steel wool (not the mimic game) way down the line that hasnt been announced yet

- Making more choose-your-adventure fnaf book stuff

- He's 'very careful' with collaborations because he wants to preserve the fact its fnaf and he doesnt want it to be distorted or tainted, & even if he really really likes a game he won't do a collab if the vibes are mismatched, but he's a little more open to things like that now (but we have FNAF X DBD now! yay)

THE BOX.

- (paraphrased) His process for a lot of the lore in games is that he'll come up with half of a mystery and then come up with an answer as things progress, that he feels something is there and he makes the path for that thing to be revealed

- 'but sometimes when things progress the roads that have been put in place arent the same roads that were there before'

- he had something planned for the box. the progression of the story did not allow for the reveal of whats in the box

- he never pursued whats in the box. and he will never know whats in the box.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 9)

summary: your encounter with Sir Virric didn't go quite as planned, and now, you have to free yourself from his hold before its too late.

rating: E

word count: 6.7k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. big angst hours, kidnapping, blood, noncon (rape, knife and blood play included there), graphic depiction of violence/torture, panic attack. full list on ao3

a/n: fair warning that this is a long and heavy chapter, and if you're uncomfortable with any of the CW please skip out on this one, i will add a brief overview of what happened in this chapter without the graphic descriptions at the beginning of the next chapter, but if all of this is gucci to you, please let me know what you think, as this was my first attempt at writing torture ~

a/n²: guess whaaaaaaaaat, yea theres yet another chapter before the epilogue, but its all happy from this point on dw

Last update next Friday!

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What will you do when she takes your throne?

Beg for her power or throw her a bone?

All that she has traded for love is yours

What will you do when she takes off her clothes?

Beg for her body or touch her soul?

When you're alone dreaming of her you sigh 

-

You wake up with a weird churning in your guts, and a throbbing headache. When you finally come back to your senses, you get to the awful realisation that you’re locked up somewhere you don’t recognize, chained up — again — and the wound at your waist stings like hell. Wherever you are, it isn’t the Crimson palace’s dungeons, that’s for sure. 

The place, you assume, is another dungeon located in a cave of sorts, or maybe the sewers — it's hard to tell, but you're underground certainly — as uneven rocks surround you. The air is damp but cold, and for this sole reason, you’re thankful for your new undead body. Had you been mortal, you would be freezing cold, but now, your surroundings matched the temperature within you. While uncomfortable, you certainly weren’t suffering because of it.

Your wrists are chained to the wall, and as you gulp, you sense the chain also attached to your neck. 

Really? My neck? Even Astarion didn’t go to these lengths when he kept me captive.

Wait. Astarion! That’s it!

You close your eyes to focus on initiating the connection through your bond, searching for his mind, and when you think you successfully reached him, you almost shout in your mind.

“Astarion! Can you hear me?”There’s a deafening silence that fills you with dread just before his voice echoes in your mind.

“By the Gods, where in the Hells are you?!” Finally hearing his voice again, you let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in as you choke back a sob.

“I’m in a dungeon, I think? Or a cave, maybe, I’m not sure —  how long have I been gone?”

“A few hours. I sent Amedee after you when I sensed something wrong — rightfully so — she took care of Alstaer.” His words are spoken faster than you can process them before he jumps back to his previous question. “I need you to tell me everything about where you are — I swear it on my grave, I will find you, or I’ll burn the world down trying.”

In truth, you had not the slightest idea of where in the nine Hells you could be. The last thing you remember before passing out was Virric’s hands over you and his disgusting laughter. The thought alone made you want nothing more but to rip off his tongue with your bare hands and make him choke on it. Just as the thought crosses your mind, the door to your dungeon swings open with a loud screech, making you wince at the sound. Your connection to Astarion withers before you can give him any information, as your focus switches to the monster walking towards you, with a rolled up leather case.

“Good morning, Princess.” 

Speak of the devil.

“Fuck off.” Although not in your habits to swear, this man had a way to turn you vulgar with his mere presence; you had no patience for whatever he had planned and you wanted to be the farthest thing from polite with him.

He sets down the leather case on a nearby table before approaching you. “Now, that’s no way to talk to your betrothed. Did your parents not teach you manners?”

If your eyes could roll further back in your skull, they would. “Gods, what kind of curse has you constantly spouting about our engagement? It’s been five years, Virric, you act as if the world stopped turning when I left.” You sigh, looking away, as you mumble. “Plus, I doubt this contract is even valid anymore. Must’ve been void the second I vanished.”

He crosses his arms in his back, walking around your cell as he speaks, “You see, after your little escapade, my reputation — along with your family’s, mind you — were tainted. No other Lord or Duke of the court with a suitable daughter took a chance on me — a man who made his bride-to-be run away without even meeting her — you can imagine the scandal. I gave my word, not only to your parents, but to the court, that I would find you and bring you back to me.” 

You don’t comment on this, but you think that if he took five years to find you again — and without even recognizing you the first time — he mustn't have been doing that great of a job at searching for you. That, or you were just very good at hiding your tracks. Either way, you had outsmarted him, and you can’t help but feel proud about yourself.

He continues, “Once they see that I have accomplished not only this, but have you be obedient and respectful, submissive — as you will be — they will see that my convictions go beyond promises, that I act on my intentions. And when I bring forward the proof that Ancunín is nothing but a fraud, finally, I’ll earn their respect back. They will have no choice but to include me back into their inner circles.” He pauses his rambling, cocking his head to the side, fixating on your right hand. “I already made the arrangements, so you won’t even have to use that little head of yours.”

You turn your head to take a look at your hand to find a new golden ring with a clear crystal in the middle, now adorning your finger. You’re taken aback by its presence, the urge to rip it off burning in your chest, but you try to push the feeling aside, taunting him instead, “A random ring on my finger doesn’t mean anything, especially if I didn’t agree to it.”

He laughs humorlessly, “Oh dearest, you are simply adorable to think you have any say in the matter. I never needed your permission, you are mine by right. And as your first duty as my bride, I require you to tell me everything you’ve learned about this mysterious Lord Ancunín.” 

Bride. You frown at the mention of the word, which sounds twisted and bitter when it falls from his lips, as opposed to the way Astarion had made it sound so precious and beloved. You might be a bride, but not by his definition, and even less Virric's. 

“I’m not telling you shit,” you finally spit out.

“Oh, you will, eventually,” he pauses, suggestively as he approaches you, eyeing you up and down. “Willingly, or… by other means.”

Unimpressed, you scoff. “Holding me hostage won’t change my mind. This is hardly my first time.” He would have to be creative to get you to say anything; if you had survived the mind flayers and your breakup with Astarion, along with everything that happened following that, Virric should be a breeze to go through. 

He leans in closer, breathing down on you. “When I have my power, I will take the time needed to break and reshape every single part of your mind and body, until you are built perfectly in my image,” you notice the corner of his lips turning into a smile that suggests things you don’t even want to consider, the thought alone making you sick to your stomach. “You will bow before me, and you will do so willingly.” He leans back, taking his casual, disdainful look again. “But, until then, I think I may have a way to… encourage you to act reasonably, so to speak.”

He turns back around to the table where he had laid out his case to open it, displaying its contents. Before you, he unravels a collection of blades, ranging from razors to saws of different sizes. The sight of them along with his previous words is enough for panic to overcome you, a tightness in your chest rendering you breathless for a few seconds. 

“So,” he picks out a short razor-like blade from his set before he approaches you again. “Do you intend on sharing Lord Ancunín’s dirty secrets or am I going to have to pry them out of you?” He says, tapping the blade over your nose as he emphasises the word. 

“I don't know anything,” you fight yourself not to show the shakiness in your voice, and terribly fail at doing so.

“That's a shame, truly,” he says, his voice devoid of any emotion.

He lets the blade trail near your collarbone before slowly sliding it down to your chest, the deadly sharp tool slicing through the fabric of your dress down to your hips, as if it were air. You shriek at the gesture, partly glad it wasn't your skin he cut — yet — but also worried of where this was going to go, as you now stood exposed to him in your undergarments, with the ripped fabric of your dress hanging from your arms. 

“I'm gonna give you one more chance, princess. This could go very easily for you. I just need one dirty secret that can help me take down Ancunín while securing my place among the right people. I'm not asking for much! One, simple, yet meaningful secret, and all of this can stop.”

You fight through the fear in your chest, trying to paralyse you. Torture here or torture later wasn’t much of a choice. You would die before you let him win over you, before you would sell out Astarion. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He sighs dramatically, “Fine! If you don’t want to talk about him yet, maybe we can discuss of your little secrets.”

The knot in your chest finally relaxes, if but for a moment, “I thought you knew everything there was about me.”

He nods, “Everything from your family, your childhood — your past, mostly — yes, I do. But nothing in those papers mentioned you being anything remotely close to a monster.”

You scoff, “What could possibly make you think of me as a monster?” Your tone is unapologetically sarcastic. “Between the two of us, I would be tempted to say you’re the monster, Virric.”

In the blink of an eye, his knife is up to your throat, tipping your chin up by the tip, to meet his gaze. You hiss as the blade penetrates ever so slightly your skin underneath, the same way it did, that night in the gardens.

“Listen here, girl, you may think of this as a game, but in case you haven’t realised, there is no way for you to win. I can either make this quick, or so very, very slow.” He digs the blade deeper as he tilts it, cutting along the side of your jaw. The feeling of the knife piercing your skin left a burning sensation that had you writhe in pain as you tried to pull away from it. “Which one will it be, doll?”

And just like it left, the knot in your chest was back. The terror paralyzed you, as you succumbed to the feeling of powerlessness, and visions of the worst outcomes manifested themselves in your mind. 

You were going to die here.

Met with your lack of answer, Virric continues. “If this is how you wish it to be.”

The blade leaves your jaw to drop to your hips, where he slides between the fabric of your panties and your skin, before swiftly pulling down and away, slicing the fabric in two, and nicking your skin in the process. Whether it was voluntarily or not didn’t matter, he rejoiced in your pain nonetheless. You hiss at the faint burning sensation of the blade and twist over yourself, trying to hide what the fabric used to conceal.

“If a beast you are, then a beast I shall tame.”

His knife travels up to your belly, as he continues to dig deeper into your skin and you wince at the pain; you’ve experienced worse injuries in your battles, but  somehow, Virric’s blade cut deeper into you than any arrow you might’ve received. This was personal, bigger than a misunderstanding, or than a lost arrow on the battlefield. Your very existence, your fate, hung in the balance, and now that you were undead — even if unbeknownst to him —  he had the power to drag out this torture forever.

The sharp dagger makes its way up, bleeding you out in the process, and stops right before your bra, hovering over the simple fabric that held your breast together; the last thing covering what left you had of decency.

“Do you have something to tell me now?”

Weighing your words, and between deep breaths, you growl. “Fuck. You. Virric.”

The smile that reaches his cheeks is nothing short of evil. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

In one swift flick of his wrist, the blade cuts through the lace of your bra, grazing the skin between your breasts as they get released, and a whimper escapes you before you can stop it. He pulls back if only for a moment to marvel at the sight of your pale skin.

“Ah,” he sighs. “A blank canvas. Perfect. I've been wanting an excuse to use my toys.” As he draws over your chest with his dagger, marking your skin with new scars, you fight through the tears swirling around your eyes and the whimpers getting stuck in your throat; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of watching you break so soon, but the temptation to give in was becoming too heavy to ignore it. Met with your defiant, yet watery glare, Virric only chuckled.

“I can drag this on all night long.”

—

And so, the night went on. Your clothes were entirely discarded, completely cut to ribbons, as he continued to experiment on your body with different blades, branding you, touching you in places he hadn’t had the chance to before, that night at the ball, and doing more atrocities you wished you could forget. Your cries only encouraged him — as much as you tried to conceal them — and he even went on to comment on the fact that they were “a melody he couldn’t believe he had missed out on all these years”. 

You passed out from the pain at one point, and when you finally came to your senses, you were not sure how long had passed. Virric, at least, was nowhere to be seen. Surely, there was no point torturing you if you were unconscious, and he left you alone once he didn’t have any reaction out of you. After all, he needed you alive — if he was going to kill you, it wasn't going to be this soon, and it wasn’t going to be this quick, he made sure of that.

You took the opportunity of his absence to try and reach out to Astarion, hoping his mind would be open to you.

“Astarion? Astarion, please tell me you’re there…”

Your connection was feeble, weakened by your injuries and threatening to break at any moment, but just before despair claimed you, his voice echoed in your mind.

“Oh Gods, Darling, finally— please, tell me exactly what is happening, I can’t have you vanish on me again without knowing what is causing this pain.” His voice was controlled but you sensed the desperation underneath.

“I’m— Wha— What pain?”

“The cuts, the burns — I feel everything.” Then, you heard it in his voice, in the way it was shaking. The anxiety, the anguish… the guilt.

You stayed silent, for what felt like forever as you processed the information, “...How?”

“Our bond goes beyond our minds. Our bodies and souls were intertwined when I made you my bride. Your pain is my pain, as much as mine is yours.”

When you were stabbed in your fight, he must’ve felt it. When you kept your mind closed to him, he must’ve instantly known something was wrong and tried to reach out, only to be met with silence. When you passed out from the poison, you couldn’t reach out to him, because he must’ve been affected, too.

“I didn’t realize—”

All the torture you went through, he had to go through it, too. It didn’t matter that he had killed Cazador, or that he was the most powerful vampire in all the realms. Because of his connection to you, he was back in those dungeons, getting tortured.

All over again.

You’re unable to silence the cries that followed, your voice trembling in your mind, “Astarion— I’m so sorry—” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. I knew the weight of this decision when I made it, when I proposed it to you, and I will bear it with you by my side, until the end of our days.” 

There was a pause, as if he was debating with himself, as if what he was about to say weighed heavier on him than he let on. “If anything, I should be sorry for keeping this information from you. I trusted you enough to defend yourself, to take on this fight. I should have trusted you further with our bond, but I was… selfish.” 

There is a small silence, the heavy weight of guilt flowing through this bond that united you, before he continued, his voice now assertive. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Virric hasn’t been seen since the soiree; wherever you are is well hidden. Now, I need you to guide me, to know where you are. Give me any information, anything at all.”

But where could you even start? So much had happened in such a short period, and yet, Virric hadn’t given you more clues as to where you could be kept.

Anything at all, he said. Just tell him everything you can. 

“I'm chained up — my wrists, my neck — I can't fight him. There's no one else here, I— don't even know how long has passed, there’s no one else but him here, and it's so damp, and cold, and—” You pause, as you feel the panic rise to your chest. “He… he has these tools — these blades… he calls them ‘his toys’... Astarion— He’s gonna keep going until I break and reveal a secret about you, he wants to take your place and… And then he’ll keep going until I cave in and marry him. Astarion, I can’t—” Your burst into tears, unable to finish your sentence.

“I”m going to fucking kill him,” his anger reverberated in your mind like an impending heartquake, before calming down, but his voice kept its devotion. “My love, I swear on my life, I will find you. Be strong, I know you have it in you. You are stronger than anyone I know. Keep fighting. You can fight him.”

Your connection faltered, and you were met with a lonely silence once again.

That night, you cried until sleep claimed you.

—

Another day of torture went by. Some of your smallest and oldest cuts had already partially healed through the night — not that it was discernible under the newest cuts he made, not that you wanted to look at them, either — as the sight of your body in cuts only made you more desperate. You had glanced over them once and it had broken your spirit; it only made you live those moments over and over again. When Virric finally graced you with a moment of respite, supposedly bored of you for the moment, you spent your time trying to rest, and gain back your energy. You tried to come up with a plan at first, but nothing came to mind; he kept his tools out of reach; there were no guards to subdue; there were no windows to look out of, and no additional information as to where you were kept. Just this same underground cell, with this same damp air, and those same rock walls.

In the worst moments, when he took advantage of you the way he had wished back in the gardens, you wished you were dead instead. Your fear turned into anger at first, when you still had it in you to fight back, until it turned into despair, as his lingering touch violated your body through your pleas. He didn't care for your utter disgust — if anything, it only seemed to entice him more. He became more daring, and when he got tired of playing with you, he forced himself onto you. 

His knife found its way just under your breast, where he skillfully cut around it before roughly squeezing your breast, forcing the blood out of you. You cringed in pain and he only let go once your blood was practically flooding down your belly, mixing with the remains of old blood from his previous operations along with your older cuts. When you finally opened your eyes again, he had removed his trousers, his cock out and hard, and no word came out of you. You refused to believe this was going to happen, a part of you still hoped that Astarion was going to burst the gates to your cell open and save you from this fate, that something, anything, was going to stop him, that it was just a twisted joke and he would draw back. 

But he didn’t. This was Virric, the psychopath who relished in torturing you to no end, cutting you up and leaving you to bathe in your own blood. He couldn’t just rape you, he had to do it his way. 

He cupped a portion of the blood that had leaked from your chest to smear it over his dick, pumping himself a few times before he lifted your legs, to position yourself at your entrance, and it didn’t matter that you kicked and trashed against him, he had you pinned to the wall and impaled on his cock the moments that followed. It felt as if he tore through you, the pain of each of his thrusts rippling through your legs. He kept at it, panting in the crook of your neck, his breath damp and hot until he came, emptying himself inside of you. His moans in your ear — too close, too loud — as he smiled with satisfaction at your tears, before sliding out of you, leaving you with the remains of his climax.

Then, you felt yourself break. For the first time, you considered death, as it felt like the only mercy that would free you from this torment. Long gone was the sassy fighter who enjoyed bantering, even with her worst enemies. The light within you — your will to fight — was fading; your very soul, the remaining part of you that made you human, was a few cuts and touches away from vanishing like your pulse. 

When Virric enters your cell the next day — or night, for all you knew — you don't even lift your head to defy him.

“No insults today? And here I thought I would be able to drag this out for another tenday before you broke under my thumb.”

Another? No, it couldn’t have been that long, you couldn't have been out for more than three days, could you? A tenday is impossible— No, Astarion would’ve found you by then, he would’ve—

“You’ll never understand how glad I was to have finally found you back,” he sighs. “I’ve been thinking about all the things I have wanted to do to you since you slipped my grasp five years ago. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t notice him making his way towards you, and picking up his favourite knife — you guessed, as it was the one he used the most — a dull one that made you scream for the first time when he cut through the inside of your thigh; he had used your bloody thighs to relieve himself that day. Your legs were still sticky from the resulting outcome. 

You only realise how close he has gotten when you feel the tip of his dagger flick over your nipple hardened by the cold air. You hiss when his hand touches your waist where he stabbed you, the night of the soiree. “It’s disappointing, if not impressive, that your wound is almost healed already. I was looking forward to playing with a new hole.” 

You wince, turning your head away and gulping hard as the disgust threatened to come up to your throat when he let his hands roam freely over your form, until something clicks in your mind from what he said.

You were almost healed already. 

You blame it on this identity still being relatively new to you, on top of the exhaustion from the torture, for not realising it sooner, but with more blood, you could heal completely. You might just break free with the rush of strength it would give you. 

Thinking quickly, you establish what you’re going to do; you would just need him to get even closer than he was, as awful as it sounded, to be able to bite him. With the shackle around your neck, you would need to be almost face to face — or rather, face to neck — with him for this to work. You would only have one chance at this, and you wouldn’t have more time if Virric found out about your vampiric nature — something you had managed to keep secret, as he seemed to have believed you when you justified your feral attack on Alstaer on your feminine nature; long nails were just your birth right and in the heat of the moment, you didn’t know better than to slash his face instead of using your sword. “Silly, silly woman.” He ate it all up.

But if you were to do this, there would be no room for error. If he found out you were a vampire, he would instantly track it down to Astarion, and they would go on a monster hunt against him and his spawn. Worse, even, he would linger on the torture if he had confirmation that you would never die from it. He would keep you balancing between life and death, forever; breaking your spirit, what was left of your humanity. You need to get him to believe he has won this fight. 

You need to submit.

When his knife slides between your thighs, you initiate your plan.

“Please! Please, stop,” You shout with what you have left in your voice, before letting your head fall, feigning to give up, “I… I’ll tell you what you want, but please, I beg you; mercy.” you plead, your voice small and broken as you push another sob. The constant screaming had roughed up your throat, making your voice almost unrecognisable when you spoke for the first time in days.

His knife finally stops its ministrations when he steps back to look at you. “Did my pet have a change of heart?”

Pet. This name hurt more than the others. 

“I can’t… can’t take it anymore… Virric, please” you pant, without looking up to him, as tears stream down your face. As much as this was part of your façade, the words weighed heavy and true — if this didn’t work, you would take your own life at the first chance you got.

He takes your chin between his thumb and finger, forcefully tilting your eyes up. As you slouch over the wall now, you stay much smaller than him. “First of all, you are to refer to me as Master from now on. Am I clear?”

Another angry tear silently falls from your eye, “Yes.”

You barely register how fast he moves when the back of his hand collides with your cheek brutally, “Wrong answer.”

“Y-yes, Master.” The only thing stopping the bile from coming up your throat at this point was the lack of contents in your stomach.

“Good. There is still hope yet for you.”

You take a few shaky breaths before speaking up, “I just… I need to know… What will happen after I tell you… his secret?”

“Exactly what I said would happen: he will be stripped of his title — not that he ever deserved it — and I will receive it in his stead, along with all his assets, which will attribute to me the respect of the high society.” He speaks as if it was already a done deal, as if this was only moments away from being his reality.

“And… me? What are you going to do with me?” You say, your voice merely a whisper by now, as you force out another tear to aggravate your desperation.

“Depends. Obviously you will be mine once more, back where you belong. Perhaps, serving me on your knees, obedient and silent, as any ideal wife should be. That is, of course, if you are a good little puppet, and you follow every and each of my orders. I might even reward you if you are especially complacent. Otherwise,” he eyes down the knife in his grip, dangerously threading down to your navel, making you groan in pain as he cuts you further. “I will have to keep you locked up, and punish you until you learn your lesson. I do not appreciate insubordination.” He lifts your chin up with his other hand, taking in your distress like an aphrodisiac. “I think I’ll keep the collar on you though, it suits you quite well.”

You force your eyes shut once more as you sob, not from the continued pain from his torture — not anymore — but from the mere idea that this was almost your life. This could still be it, but had you not impulsively ran away from your home back then… gods, you don’t even want to think about it, this was torture enough. You thank all the gods that you are an only child, as you don't think you would’ve been able to live with yourself if you had abandoned a sister to this life by running away yourself.

When you feel his blade between your legs, you realise you’re out of time.

“Stop— stop!” you say, your voice cracking, as it comes out between cries. “I’ll tell you what you want.”

You miss the smile of satisfaction on his face, one that you would be too happy to tear off, as he sets down the knife at his table. “I knew you would see reason, princess. Don’t be shy now, tell me everything I want to know, and I’ll make sure to reward you appropriately. We might even pay your parents a little visit! Show them the progress we’ve made with you.”

If you had to see your parents again, especially your father who had sold you off as if you were nothing but cattle, you don’t think you would have the force to restrain yourself from killing them, too.

“I… just… need…” you mumble, your speech barely audible as you feign exhaustion, panting after each word.

“Speak up, girl. I won’t repeat myself.”

It takes everything you have left in you not to spit at him. “Come… closer…” you whisper to draw him where you need him to be, and the fool obliges you, too blind on his power trip to second guess your intentions as he turns his ear to you, finally exposing his neck to you.

“He’s… he’s a…”

You wait for the right moment, when his neck is just under your chin, to finally bolt up on your legs and dive your head down, plunging your fangs deep into his skin. Your teeth manage to keep him still long enough for you to take three great gulps of his rich blood, which seems to burn as it goes down your throat. He shoves himself away from you, stumbling back to the table with his knives, and brings his hand up to cover the wound in his neck. 

His blood gives you the results you hoped for; your open wounds heal in the blink of an eye, your will to fight springs back to life, and with your renewed strength, you easily tear off your bindings from the wall behind you, before ripping off the one at your neck, finally setting yourself free.

One look at him in his pitiful state awakens something within you, a hunger — for blood, yes — but a blood bath. You can now hear how fast his heart is beating against his ribcage, terrorised at your sight. 

“A vampire?!” he screams, incredulous, as his voice trembles.

You give him a toothy grin, frowning through the tears in your eyes and the blood on your lips, proudly displaying your hidden fangs. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Before he can reach for his arsenal, you whip up the chain linked to your shackled arm to strike his right arm down. The blood loss affecting him messes up with his reflexes, and he receives your hits without a chance of dodging them. He screams when the chains make contact with his arm, and then you finally understand what he meant about your own screams; his pain elicited something extremely satisfying within you, and you wanted more.

As he tries to reach for another blade with his left arm, you repeat the same move, swinging the chain in your hand towards his legs, making him trip, and knocking away the table and his arsenal in the process. When he sees you pick up daggers from his collection, he crawls backwards in panic until he hits the locked door of your cell. He doesn’t even bother to cover his neck which is still profusely bleeding from your feeding, as his eyes look you up and down in a fright that suited him far better than the arrogance he wore before. 

Breathless, he asks, “Ancunín is a bloody vampire?!”

You approach him like a predator would their prey, with a glint in your eyes as you inspect the knife you hold, “Honestly Virric, I can't believe it took you that long to figure it out. The man is a high Elf — you of all people should know there are no high elves with red eyes, come on now.”

“There was word that he was a drow—”

“A drow? With his complexion?” You scoff, crouching to his level. “Maybe you really are as stupid as he painted you out to be.”

“How dare you—” He snarls, as he tries to get to his feet, but you stop him before he can get anywhere, as you plunge the knife in his thigh and twist through the muscles. He cries out, so loud it echoes through the tunnels of his hideout, and you rip out the knife from his leg before you get up to take a look at the state of him.

“You know,” you say, void of any emotions, “I would tell you to send my regards to my parents, but I don’t intend on letting you live long enough to get there.”

As you wind up your next hit, he lifts his arm in protection, yelling to wait. You halt in your tracks, simply by curiosity of what he would say in his moments of desperation, and lower the knife, waiting to see what bullshit he would spit out.

“Think about it,” he pants. “People are going to ask around. You wouldn’t risk going to prison over killing me, would you?” He smiles as he lowers his arm to gauge your reaction, but for the first time, his smile was out of desperation. It’s uneven, shaky, uncertain; he’s terrified of you.

“Beg.”

“W– What?”

“You want me to spare you? Beg for it.”

He remains quiet, blinking anxiously at the sight of the vampire bride that held his life between his hands, and with a shaky voice, he breathes, “I’m— I’m not—.”

You lunge, holding the bloodied knife against his throat just as he had done to you so many times before, pushing against the soft spot between his neck and under-chin, “Speak up, pet.”

He sneers, refusing to comply and you push the knife deeper into his throat, “Unless this precious life of yours isn’t really worth anything?”

“P– Please!” He finally snaps when the knife cuts through the soft skin of his neck, choking on his words. “I— I’m sorry! I’ll disappear, I'll leave Baldur's Gate, you’ll never hear of me again, please! I- I beg you, spare me!”

Under your hand, Virric shakes. Not only his voice, but his whole body; you dare to think that you’re shaking his spirit, too. And all of this only in the span of a few minutes, yet again beating Virric at his own game. You drink in his terror, and decide to play some more. “Gods, you sound pathetic.”

You pull away, straightening up, “I don’t think you’re worth my mercy, Virric.” You eye the knife in your grasp, inspecting it as you keep talking, “What was it that you said that night at the ball? You wouldn’t want people to see you like this, now would you?” You shoot him a deadly glare, before grabbing another knife that was discarded earlier, and as you walk towards him, he lifts his remaining working arm in an attempt to try and stop you, “Wait! How will you explain my disappearance?”

You smile faintly, your words are devoid of emotion, empty, yet, threatening. “I’ll find something.” You step closer, the dagger burning in the palm of your hand for retaliation going straight into his other leg. After his screams settle back down, you crouch and lean closer to say, “After all, no one would have respected you if they knew you were bested by the very woman you swore to force into submission.” 

You lean into his ear, whispering. “I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

Before he can say anything to stop you once more, your knife is deep in his guts, once, then twice, then more times than you can count. You finally pull away, watching as his life leaves his eyes, drinking in the horror of his last moments alive.

As his body goes limp, falling to the side, you step back, dropping the blade from your hand before falling to your knees, the adrenaline that pushed you through this encounter leaving you all at once. Your breathing accelerates without you being able to control it, seemingly forgetting it wasn’t a vital necessity to you anymore, and you physically feel your heart tightening in your chest. You try to compose yourself, try to tell yourself you’re fine, but a wave of raw emotions hits you all at once and tears flood your vision. 

This man would never hurt you again, and your bleeding wounds had healed, but you had to drink his blood for this to happen. His blood, in your body, just like he had been without your consent, for days. Your skin itches at the thought of feeling his blood course through your veins and you want to rip off your skin, leave this body for a new one, remove the stains from his abuse, scratch away his touches — no more, no more, no more.

In the distance, you hear frantic footsteps and you lift your eyes towards the sound — guards. That must be them, posted further away, just in case Virric had the need for them, and they were coming for you. Quickly, you grab back the longest dagger among Virric's tools, and get back on your feet, preparing yourself to attack the first guard — no, not a guard.

Astarion.

Your body refuses to move, frozen in place by some magic, refusing to see him there, standing before your cell — he had come for you after all — and the moment after he rips away the door to your cell, you are in his arms. Still frozen, still unbelieving. 

“Oh darling… My sweet love… I finally found you. It's me. I'm here.” He pulls back, his hands reaching to cup your face between them. “I'm here. It’s over.” 

“He… He’s…” You wanted to try to explain, but there was never the need to, not with Astarion, not when he had felt every cut and bruise and touch Virric had imposed on you.

“I know, my love. I know.” In the second that followed, you dropped your weapon and the one after, you cried, and cried, until your cries turned into screams, unable to keep the emotions bottled up anymore. Your voice is guttural, broken between sobs, depicting just how broken you were inside.

He pulled back from you to surround you with his jacket, warm from him wearing it, and protecting your body from any unwanted eyes, before picking you up in his arms.

“Let's go home.”

You walked away without a second look at Virric's butchered remains.

-

The gods have made us a virgin hunter

Who in the storm becomes stillness

I always wondered why they all came back for more

Came back for more

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury

[rosyredlipstick]

hii i hope you’re doing alright !! Just wanted to know if you have any idea of when you’re going to publish the last far galaxies chapter !!! i love the fic and i can’t wait to read chapter 11 !! have a good day/night :)

thank you for reading!!!!! the answer is soon but not soon soon unfortunately this chapter is a BEAST like a BEAST of a BEAST and no matter how many words i write THERES STILL MORE A;SLJLSDHGLSHGQV

have a good day/night :) here are the first few hundred words <3

Hours later, after piling themselves back on the ship and cutting through space to the rendezvous point, they were back on the star base.

It felt like a true whirlwind, a few hours of action so packed he could hardly think and now somehow Nico found himself walking the same gray halls, up the same ramp, into the ship, into his empty room. The privacy panels were drawn, the room in near darkness. It was late in the night, not even Command at the ready. They’d meet first thing in the morning, a disgustingly early call time already on his schedule, something he’d have to be dragged out of bed to make.

For the time being, he was alone. Will had marched Thalia straight off to the medbay, hearing no arguments but enough complaints that Nico pitied him greatly. Jason and Piper went off to meet Annabeth wherever she was, and Leo was already setting himself on ship repairs, more than enough crafts lined up for him to choose from. Nico hadn’t felt the slightest bit of temptation to follow any of them.

Nico sat on the edge of the bed, his legs coming out from under him. Quite suddenly, he felt exhausted down to the bone. He felt like he could sleep for a month and still want a nap. 

He dropped his head into his hands. He thought of the look in Thalia’s eyes, the anguish. 

Nico had taken his eye off the ball. It was a fact. If he’d faced one delay in the trees, an extra few minutes spent somewhere else, Thalia would be dead. And it’d be what she wanted. The thought was enough to tighten his throat, painful. 

Things could have gone so differently. He could be standing somewhere completely different, a completely different person. 

Nico didn’t let himself think on it very long. He grabbed for his comm. It only took a few rings until there was a mechanical click, the line connecting.

“I messed up,” Nico muttered into the dark. “I don’t know what to do.” 

There was a pause. “Do you want me to come?” 

Nico swallowed, wholly unsure. He was just figuring out what to say, how to even respond to that, when -

“Send your coordinates,” Bianca decided in a second, crisp in his ear. “Let your leadership know, I’m bringing the Huntresses.” 

[luckyqueenreign]

ozzy...

going to tag some ozzy girlies...sorry if I missed you:

@noahsthottie @operationnope @cycat4077 @oliverslove @queen-of-boops @mendie91 @kunepie @earlyevenings @damagedsavefile @katsie

so ive had time to breathe from yesterdays disastrous update and I also replayed it again this morning and maybe it's bc I already knew what was going to happen or maybe playing it again made me realize a few new things but I'm actually not as mad w/ Ozzy as I was yesterday...

in my playthrough, Roberto was the one that pulled MC for a chat after the casa recoupling to talk about how ozzy was feeling during casa, his massive insecurities and that he was the one that wrote the note for MC. In my opinion this conversation basically lays out the foundation and road map for this weeks update.

We know that MC and Ozzy obviously had feelings for each other pre-casa, but they were never actually official. MC had MULTIPLE guys trailing after her around the villa and even if she felt the strongest connection to Ozzy - in his defense we never really told him this. Even the kiss goodbye was just that...a kiss goodbye. When we have the first chat with him he opens up and tells MC how much he missed her and how he felt when she was gone and when she says she missed him back. he's obviously happy but its almost like he's relieved and surprised she feels the same way. Being that they've never been coupled and never had a "this is it...you're the only one I want" chat his insecurities here are completely valid.

Then we hear about Ozzy making mad moves at casa. And at first I was PISSED especially bc in my mind that kiss goodbye was me telling him I wanted him. But then I started to think about how this is so completely out of character for Ozzy. This man doesnt do one night stands, he's held out on kissing MC until he had properly sorted his feelings for her and Grace so for him to get to the point where he's in a pool skinny dipping with two strangers, he must've been feeling super low and super insecure. (call back to Roberto telling us he has way more insecurities than we know) He tells us multiple times that when he saw the postcard he thought that Grace and MC were both moving on and he had to make moves. but what got me around this second playthrough was his instant guilt in the moment after it happened. If Ozzy was really a player who went around skinny dipping and triple kissing girls, he wouldnt have been racked with guilt. He wouldve just brought back a Casa girl bc that wouldve been the easy way out. But he didnt do that. And sure do I wish he had been more upfront about it on our very first convo? Absolutely!! but then I do see his side about feeling so guilty about it, being insecure and ultimately being inexperienced in scenarios such as this...bc this is not in his character!

all in all I still do think theres a redemption arc for Ozzy somewhere here. and if you have followed me since s5 you know I wont give up that easy 💀

[faunrasthewinterelf]

2024/07/23 - MAP VERSION 1.4!

fans of Jak and Daxter, I need help!

I have access to Inkarnate, and i keep seeing people attempt to cobble together the various maps from the games and try to make sense of it, so i figure I'd try out my version, and I'd LOVE some feedback!

PLACES

HAVEN CITY/SANDOVER

WASTELANDS/SPARGUS [Desert Island, apparently??]

KRAS CITY [never played Jak X, concept art has it as a Floating City on water, has to be far enough from a coast to be safe from metal heads, but close enough for Krew to operate in both Haven and Kras regularily?]

Icelands [again, in Jak X, only seen via race track? most people put it far north, but feasibly, it would also have to be close to Kras for the Grand Prix Race thingy. If my map building goes as it is, perhaps it is actually far South? Antartic vs Arctic? COULD also be West of the Precursor Legacy, via the snowy area off of the Lava Village place]

INITIAL THOUGHTS

KRAS CITY IS DIRECTLY EAST, OFF THE COAST OF WHAT USED TO BE ROCK VILLAGE. EARLY MATERIALS/STUDY OF THE FLOATING CITY CAME FROM THE FLOATING BIT OF THE LOST PRECURSOR CITY.

ICELANDS are a Maurader territory atop the same mountains that we originally see the Yeti Babak in from JaD:tPL. The Babak village up there is gone? trading with the Marauders? dont know yet. ICELANDS are up along the spine of that mountain area!

BABAK VILLAGE should probably be moved closer to Haven! where ever it ends up it should also determine where the Eco Mine will be! [also potentially close to the original Blue Eco Temple on the other side of Sandover? I know those are Eco Vents, but its still an area with an over flow of Eco? dunno, theres not much room there for more things XD

I put SPARGUS/WASTELANDS to the far west of both the ICELANDS Mountains and Haven for three reasons!

A La using Australia as a 'prison colony / exile' via the british, you wouldnt Exile people somewhere close by, even if it IS an island? (pls correct me if that's wrong btw) Spargus SHOULD be far from Haven, and it makes sense that you'd need an 'air train' or whatever they call it in the games, to get there, beyond it just being an Island

the ruins from the city that you run around anc corral Reapers in! I have it between the Marauder Colony/Strong hold and the general area where they came from to give reason to why it failed! I don't know the canon around that ruin, but i like the idea that it was a Spargan Colony that fell to Marauders a long time ago, BUT was avenged years later, and the Marauders were forced further into the desert, cut off from their home land after losing that area. It's particularily dangerous to travel, and also why not a lot of people travel past the center volcano, or to the temple in the South East of the Wastelands!

the Catacombs/Subrail thing! please correct me if im wrong! but you enter the Subrail from the Catacombs of said beforehand mentioned temple! and those catacombs/subrail connect to haven, going in a West to Eastern direction, under the mountains, in my little world now!

HAVEN IS HUGE - like, no matter how you put it, Haven is a MASSIVE area??? like, this is wild to me! it makes a little more sense if you consider it a massive area that was claimed by Mar and his Acolytes? (no idea if that's canon) and then the city was built within the walls.

There's potentially to much space between Haven and the Mountain range to its west, and Spargus. [It could all be Metal head infested jungle? But that's on the opposite side of where I head canon the Metal Head Nest to be. The Rift Gate is originally found in the Citadel, but is moved to Sandover for the start of Jak 2, however, this doesnt make sense during the game itself, so i believe that the Metal Head leader (Kor, probably) after emerging 300 years in the past through the gate and wreaking havoc, moved it to the new location that we find during Jak 2. I like to think that the Metal Head nest was moved *back to* Gol and Maia's Citadel [Dark Eco Silo nearby, YUM!], and Mar's Gun, built with the salvaged remains of the gun that helps you get to Klaww, is moved closer, but is unable to be moved. HOWEVER, that puts everyone WAY outside the Walls of Haven, So. I dont actually know at the moment! I'd LOVE feedback please and thank you! gimme ideas that I can use to modify and add to the map, throw headcanons at me, discuss where the Wastelands adn Kras should be, and what sizes they should be?

I love this game series and I wanted to be able to flesh out where exactly everything is in the world out of shear curiosity! [Yes, the clouds are a hint at the areas in the Game-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, The concept of that area is *way* to cool to ignore it!]

[s0lar-ch3ri]

what if i just rambled

like ik people have thoughts that they cant get out but what if i became so autistic enough that i understood the blorbo and- fuck it lets talk about a jrwi character again (spoilers obvi)

i couldnt choose between ollie and jay but i feel like ollie i got more to talk about for so ill do him first then jay cause they feel very connected for no fucking reason

so i think everyone acknowledges that ollie is just a kid but he really isnt just a kid? like he semi has the mind of an adult from the usage of the compass, because it didnt just mature him physically, but mentally too. from what i can guess, it was slow and unnoticeable until it was too big for ollie to know how to handle. thats when ollie was a kid.

yet ollie adapted, and while he really was 12 for that time still, he wasnt a kid. he grew up for a bit, he was an adult. and thats what scared him. because we all have been scared of growing too fast. so when ollie had that hit him like a truck, he didnt want to leave bed and shit. yet he became the adult his body reflected. sure, he never was fully an adult, but thats because hes not just an adult, hes still a kid.

and after he had adjusted to it, he got to have it for a couple more days. then it was gone. all the growth was now unnecessary and he didnt know what to do again. yet he didnt handle it like he did the first time. he thought about it. and again, he got over it. yet he didnt let go of what maturing so quick taught him, and hes still grown after. because hes something in between an adult and child, yet its not a teen or something.

another thing to note: ollie didnt have a say every fucking time. when he aged up, he didnt ask for it. he asked for a way to get him home and maybe it brought out another desire ollie had inside him by using it so much (touching on that more later). when ollie adjusted, he didnt ask to. he probably just wanted to curl away in that blanket and hide, because it was scary out there. yet somewhere inside he thought earl was right (earl calls him a baby or smth because he just keeps on staying in bed) and forced himself to adapt the new adult body. and when he was aged back, he didnt get a say. chip just decided it, thinking thats what ollie wanted. and he did, he did want to be a kid again. yet he wasnt ready yet. but when would he be?

so why do i bring up so much his lack of input? because it sounds similar to how he got onto the albatross. he first was taken from his home, then working with marshal jon, then working with the albatross. now being so amazed by the sea yet scared of its dangers hes been accustomed to quite a bit now, soon enough hes going back home and has to act like he didnt have the most terrifying and great adventure of his lifetime (another detail i wanted to add is theres no way jon and ollie didnt encounter some form of sea monsters or danger after being out at sea so long, we jsut arent told anything about it so yeah extra trauma thoughts).

so to me, ollie's lying (like his dad aka chip would /j). to me, ollie's desire wasnt just to return home. i doubt it was more then just a whiff of a thought that loomed in ollies head. because yeah, he wanted to go home, but not yet. he wanted to be on the ship longer, but not jsut that. he wanted to be able to help his friends. he didnt like seeing his friends come back beaten and bruised, yet being in the corner doing nothing. and he was told by chip that when he was older he could hang out with them on the ship again. so ollie, unknowing of consequences that could happen, wishes for not just a way home, but a way to help. i literally could write theory shit for this cause its not just thoughts for once! niklaus has said that the people's desires can twist from their greed, and maybe ollie didnt realize his greed (or the amount he was asking to be brought real was "greedy" and ollie didnt notice) so it twisted his desire (it being the compass), thus why niklaus doesnt understand what happened with ollie, because accidentally beign greddy can happen, or being greedy in the eyes of another.

i literally dont think ill have the motivation to wrap this up yet so ill do so later

[canaidliafail]

her praying lips

Valka x f!reader 🌿

CW: This is a difficult and self indulgent piece. I have been going through a messy breakup and an awful change of events and had the need to vent in this form. Theres non descriptive mentions of unwilling prostitution & thoughts of suicide. has a positive turn of events

3.4k words

Have you ever gone out to swim at 3:00 am in October when the water is cold ? When you dive, it engulfs you and you feel it prickle your bones. Sometimes, if you stay a minute longer you may feel needles in your heart, then your lungs get sucked in within themselves and then panic, terror and peace will hit you all at once. You will be met with two choices. One that is out of instinct , to pull yourself up to the surface and taste the sweet oxygen . The other is the one that brought you beneath the water in the first place. The path to peace, eternity and release.

You fiddled with the lines of death and life waiting for an answer to come to you. You dove in the lake and languidly swam, ignoring the pressure on your temples from the discomfort of the cold. you opened your eyes and stared into the eternal abyss that was the deep water where the fjord met its end and abruptly connected with the vast ocean. A shade of yellow and amber split the peace of the cool hues and urged you into the surface in alarm.

a raid

you turned to look behind you where your flat, small boat was hovering above the water in tranquility and decided to swim back as fast as you could to avoid the upcoming conflict. it was close. You could hear the roars and ashes danced with the snow in the air. Your hands touched wood, moist and sturdy, and hauled yourself up where you rushed to throw your furs over your shoulders. You reached land and ran to your hut to find in horror that it was your settlement that the raven clan had decided to ambush in search of your vile King, Kjotve

Your outpost was further away from the main colony of Kjotves clan which meant the raven clan intended to threaten and send a message.

You walked, half naked, wet and cold and looked at your village disheartened, taking soft breaths with clouds forming in the air every time you did. You stared at the burning small, ugly and wrecked hut as it crumbled upon itself and forgot to care about the angry warrior's voice behind you. That was until an arm abruptly turned you around and upon instinct with one hand you grabbed their wrist and with the other went to cover yourself with the thin fur coat

a blonde woman with a gnarly scar and a growl in her voice spoke

“What are you doing at a soldiers outpost?!”

she asked bewildered and your eyes moved from her face to the flames behind her.

“One of us is sent each week to keep the soldiers entertained. This week it was my turn”

And in that burning hut were your savings to hopefully start anew somewhere further away. Years worth of work and ache between your legs burned to a crisp.

The woman seemed genuinely empathetic and softened her grip on your arm

“Come to our settlement. This warning went to Kjotve not to the innocents”

you shook your head “I'm not homeless”

“And is your home somewhere you wish to go back to?”

you tightened your jaw and would have wept if it wasn't for the simple fact that you had forgotten how

Unbeknownst to you, that was your first night of freedom

______

“Eivor! You are back” said a ginger woman, tall and clothed in colored fabrics and stones. from the longship,You watched her converse with the blonde warrior called Eivor in silence. You did nothing to move. You weren’t sad to see your village burn. You hated that place. But you were unsure of what good you could be to a morally upright settlement. You never felt like you were smart and your body was frail and thin and would not be able neither to forge an axe nor wield it. There was no use for you other than that, which you were brought here out of pity and that made something twist in your stomach so violently that you were ready to hurl had you not learned how to keep yourself composed and maintain a pretty facade of calmness

Eivor eventually motioned you over and you stepped out of the ship ignoring the burly mans help and walked over to the two women, feeling safer in their presence

“Eivor told me a bit about your situation. I suggest we take you to our seer for her to see you don’t have any injuries. the rest will come later” she said and you frowned

“I'm fine. No need to waste time with that. As long as I get a few hours of sleep I could start working tomorrow in…well, I could learn to cook I guess” You tried realizing you had never done even that before. Polished and smooth skin was rare and came with a cost unfortunately.

Randvi pulled you aside from Eivor and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to take you on a short walk, stopping in front of the stables

“I understand you are scared, but we are not them. You will be staying at Valkas hut for the first few days either way, so no harm in checking for injuries in the meantime” her voice was persuasive and you recognised the jarlskona in her. You admired her a moment longer before looking in front of you at the horses. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear affectionate

“I don’t mean to pry and I say this out of care. If you want to speak, Valka is a wonderful seer and I can grow to be a friend. "You nod politely not because you felt thankful but because it was the right thing to do.

Only one unaffected by life's cruelty could still be a believer or even worse, a seer and making a friend out of a woman who slept in fox furs and wore jewels sounded pretentious

Eivor sat on the saddle and pulled you up silently.

“Its a long walk so its better we go this way. She is at the top of the hill” you secured your arms around her waist latching onto the leather belts hoops.

“So she enjoys silence ? it Wouldn't be kind of me to disrupt her peace then, no?”

“Valka lives with her sick mother and is too selfless to take offense in providing shelter to someone in need.She lives at the top because she likes it most for her meditations and ugh…Other things I guess”

your interest perked up at her dismissive tone

“My my, an agnostic norse ? What a sight”

you heard a soft chuckle and the horse rounded a wooden hut decorated with bones, wood and ribbons.

“I do have faith. But sometimes it does seem weak when I have to talk with Valka” you smiled and cocked a brow at her as she offered a hand to lower your from her horse

“How peculiar”

her cheeks tinted pink and you might have melted at the sight had your attention not been snapped away to the wooden door opening and the seer stepping out. At the soft crunching of the snow you looked at her standing at the top of her stairs in front of her hut. She had a gentle smile when she greeted eivor and that did not falter when she looked at you. She was a stunning woman, serene looking with eyes like the waters of the fjords that you learned to love and swim in every morning. Blue paint decorated her body like river streams and a black veil covered her head.

“Valka this is” Eivor started but you took a step forward and decided to introduce yourself on your own. She welcomed you in and Eivor greeted Valkas mother and decided to take a seat next to her letting the two of you talk in a more private area. You were startled and equally entranced with the fluidity that she lead the conversation and you found yourself speaking easier than you initially assumed you would

“I was sold to Kjotve. He often trades women for his sexual endeavors and so that he can pay less silver to his soldiers. Which is why I was at the outpost”

she had an empathetic look on her face as she studied your body for injuries finding only one that needed a bit of tending to.

“The Gods protected you then. Had you not gone for a swim you would have burned along with everything else”

you smiled “The gods did not help me. I went to swim in hopes to drown myself. Yet I didn't drown, I didn't burn and I dont have my silver to go anywhere anymore”

Valka was silent and she did not take offense to your adamant rejection of her faith, or if she did, she didn’t show it.

she bandaged a burn mark on your ankle and found a new set of robes to help you in. Her own perhaps as it seemed you two had the same build

“You don’t have to accept the Gods help” she paused

“but will you accept mine?” something in you shifted as you felt her soft fingers brush over your skin while she dressed you and cared for you. While she braided your hair and gave you tea to drink

You had so badly wanted to feel angry. To throw a childish tantrum and break everything in her sacred spacious hut. To dig a sword in those wooden statues and rip those altair fabrics and make them asswipes. In horror you found the fabrics with the runes to your liking, the burning sage eased your headache and the tea was so sweet and warm.

That night, You were visited by Freyja in your sleep

_______

The first few days Valka didn’t ask for anything. She would check on you and change your bandages if needed and she would bring you soup to eat and later tea to drink. She would openly meditate in front of her altair and praise the Gods and then she would take care of her mother who already seemed too far gone. You were bothered by this act of altruism and one evening when she was poking the woods at the fireplace you approached her and she moved over to give you space to sit

“am I supposed to just stand here ?”

“I don't mind your company. Is mine to your disliking?” she questioned and you shook your head

“That’s not what I'm saying, I…Give me some work. Randvi and Eivor haven’t come up here to give me any so maybe you can ? I want to make myself useful” she turned her attention away from the burning coals and gave you a smile

“Very well” she said and you looked around the place in awkward silence. She did not enlighten you any further on how she planned on making use of you but she did offer you tea once again, that you once again accepted and you both sat before the place listening to the cracking wood, to the sounds of nature at night with the occasional, soft addition of Valkas humming.

The next morning, Valka walked into your room and woke you up. She waited for you to come to your senses and while getting dressed she sat on your bed and watched while listing a few tasks. It started with you helping her cook or prepare the ingredients for her mixtures.After some time, she allowed you to collect the plants with her and sometimes you would aks their purpose which she gladly enlightened you on. You watched every ritual and grew fond of the times that she would perform due to her taking more time in her appearance. She didn’t mind your wandering eyes and if your mind didn’t fool you, you could say that she liked the reaction she evoked out of you.

one day she stood before you with a thin veil tied near her hips and her long blue robe open and naked without bones and talismans to hold it together. she passed you a bowl with blue paint and asked for you to do her paint in front of her altair.

you started with her hands, and moved to her shoulders carefully and with a slow pace trying your best to mimic how steady her work was that it almost mimicked a tattoo

Her energy vibrated off of her and imprinted on you, her breath fanned across your face and brushed your lashes. You decided to return to the front later and fell down to start on her legs which were ridiculously well shaped.

“Don’t worry about precision. Its the intention that matters”

“Can someone like me learn to have proper intentions?”

she reached a hand and cupped your cheek.you looked up at her from your knees and pulled the brush away from her knees. With the wooden statues and candles behind her you almost felt like this was your time to start praying to Freyja for a sight like this could have only been her doing.

“My child, you already have them” she said with the warmth of a wolf protecting its cub. You lingered there and she pulled away with a final stroke of her thumb on your cheek. You resumed your paintwork and she muttered praises to freyja “I…The first night I came here. I saw her in my dream” you confessed and Valkas attention was on you. Her smile was bright and there was a glint in her eyes you couldn’t decipher . You painted the final stroke on her thigh and got up to work on her torso

“You were visited by the great one, Should you ever wish to work with her she will guide you to the path of spirituality”

You liked painting om Valkas body, you liked her skin and how there were goosebumps left on your path. You could feel every exhale and the thrumming of her heartbeat lulled you to another world

“I'd like to, if you could teach me”

“Let's enjoy Samhain and we will start tomorrow. Now come, I'll give you my robes and we will go down to the village”

That night, despite this being the darkest holiday of the wheel of the year, you felt more alive than ever. You chanted with Valka and you sang together and then you danced with her in the distance amongst the other drunk drengrs, and you could feel the energy course through you along with the mead and the burning herbs in the air. In her eyes, you saw freedom and in freedom you found your faith

________

on the third month you were conflicted. You saw Valka and you respected her, but practicing with her grew difficult. Every touch made your skin burn and every look made your head spin. You saw her in her robes and you saw her with less of them during private offerings and in all the admiration there was the numbingly loud sexual desire burn within you. Something you thought died years ago buried in shame and pain. She asked you to court her to her baths at the lakes and prepare the oils for the cleansing rituals.Everytime she asked that you join her and everytime you found a poor excuse of

-I don’t feel the deities yet- even though you did.

She was patient with you and she settled for making the prayer before her bath with you. She approached and your eyes widened as you saw her turn to you with spread arms and hold your face in her cold palms, her forehead pressed against yours. You prayed with her and felt your mind wander astray as you admired her chest, her narrow hips and her long legs. You closed your eyes shut and prayed a little louder in Freyjas honor hoping that this was a gift and not a challenge

Your life once again would be turned upside down when Sigurd and Eivor decided to take off to Mercia. you stood behind Valka as she talked with her about her visions and warned her of their meaning with your occasional insight involved. Eivor knelt to pick up a box with your things and Valka turned to you

“In Mercia they will need a seer until I'm able to come” she said and your heart sank. She didn’t tell you of this and the hurt showed in your face

“I will come eventually but now I have to stay back and take care of my mother”

“Then I will stay with you” you said.Valka seemed puzzled , then a smile graced her lips

“Eivor give us a few minutes” and Eivor left the hut. Valka held your hand and pulled you to her chambers to make sure she was alone. she did not pull away and let her thumb stroke her hand

“You are ready enough to take care of them until Im there. Is that something scary to you?” You looked at your joined hands and took a step forward towards her

“Its not. But I want you next to me” your eyes met and you took another step closer to her. There was an undeniable attraction towards her. Then again the high priestess of the settlement had eyes follow her more often than not. She kissed your forehead and her hands traveled from yours towards your shoulders and then rested around your neck. She toyed with the bone necklaces the you wore

“Speak to me”

“I care for you Valka as more than just an apprentice. I want to be more than just a student to you” her lips connected with yours and you were too stunned to immediately return the kiss which ended all too soon

“I know. I could tell” You were confused and were unsure if you could be happy

“The night before your arrival Freyja visited me. She spoke to me in riddles, and then you landed on my doorstep beautiful and lost” she praised and your cheeks heated up. Her fingers fell to your waist and circled it beneath the loose blue robe pulling you closer to her exposed front, you chest meeting hers with the other hand still holding the back of your head

“Freyja united us. However I saw the storm in your mind and your clouded vision so I gave you time”

you could leap in happiness finding the innocence spark up within you of a first love

“Were you not going to say anything ?” You asked and she left another kiss near your lips “I was once I joined you in Mercia. I felt that perhaps in the time of you being away from me you could figure out what you wanted for yourself without your eyes wandering to my assets” you burned in shame. So she had noticed

“No need to guilt yourself over it. I have done so as well, and most of my rituals don't require me to be nude either way” she soothed and now your heart, which was already soft had melted to a puddle in the reciprocation of your feelings

You took initiative in kissing her and wrapped your arms around her neck the way you always dreamed of doing so. Youd have hoped to seal your bond beneath Freyjas statue but Eivor, stupid and impatient, interrupted you two.

she was caught off guard when she saw the proximity of the two of you and with a face red as a burning amber she closed the door behind her and yelled

“We have to leave soon!”

you looked back at the seer, your love, your fated soulmate and she looked at you in return

This was the beginning of something new, something prosperous.

[lazulian-devil]

Thoughts on Book 9, halfway point

Okay so im in Book 9, right? End of Phase 1 of Skulduggery Pleasant.

And I remember, back when I read it as it came out, that I hated how it ended, how everything was so fixed on Darquesse, that I was relieved that she was finally gone from the story (lol) and that I went into Phase 2 weirdly exhausted. Book 9 actually made me abandon SP until something like Book 12 was out?

Now, according to my Kindle, Ive read 94% of Phase 1. Im somewhere around Chapter 56 of Book 9, so Im about halfway through.

And I have to say.

Its such a full book? So much happens? And its so all over the place? Okay we are here now, and now we are here. Brides of the Blood Tears, other dimension, back again, Darquesse, Mirror Image revival, future perspective telling us its all gonna be okay, and and and.

I think Im overwhelmed by this book. Last Stand of Dead Men was utterly enjoyable. But it felt like the book had purpose. Book 9 on the other hand feels like its desperately trying to write itself out of the godhood of problems it created. It wants to do justice to everything Darquesse was built up to be and yet still defeat her.

The problem is that the strategies are simply not very clever and knowing in which direction its going also makes so much of it appear cheap because it wasnt really relevant later?

Darquesse is both built up to be non human and yet appeals to humanity. And I suppose theres a point made there but its... shes just not fun? I think she never was as a villain. Her whole speech about how changing energies is not killing someone and then through like five minutes of group time she remembers "oh fuck, yeah nope that was wrong". Its so weird. Its so jarring. The character feels inconsistent in their own darn book.

Its not that its badly written. Tanith returning is great. Billy Ray is such an utterly human figure in this one and I genuinely feel bad for him (as he evidently truly loved Tanith as a Remnant). Skulduggerys treatment of the "other" Nefarian Serpine shows so much character growth. China is more and more actually an involved character. And a few others I cant remember.

I just.

I dont know. Its a weird feeling because many of the books I have read over the last dozen weeks were also in my head as "not actually that good storywise but well written" and some of that has turned out wrong! I always enjoyed reading them but some stories are much better than I remember.

But I think I arrived at this point in which the story is too large for the books. I care about the characters. About the world. But I dont know if I care about the stakes anymore. I dont know if Darquesse matters to me anymore. What does she even say about humanity? What does she reflect? That we can grow? That we are inherently evil? These are all things better illustrated by other characters.

Is it supposed to be a play on the Phase 2 reveal of Valkyrie being actually a Faceless One? Is Darquesse a shard of said ungodly evil? If so, wouldnt we have benefitted from said reveal in the Phase of its relevancy? Why is it so late?

I think SP sometimes suffers from the Star Wars "Skywalker" symptom of everything being connected at all times.

I dont know. This is weird. I still have 6% and around 50 chapters to go but Im unsure now. I stand before the mirror of literary interest and wonder if there is anything substantial to be seen.

And I know I'll enjoy the book. Its well written. I love Landy.

But having read them all in a row in such close succesion makes me realise how somewhat badly planned they are and how many massive plotholes there often exist.

Maybe the story got too big. I dont if i'll be exhausted. But Im a little worried.

[onlyangle1]

hello there. i wrote this because im pissed off and id like other people to know that it is okay to be sad over a stupid boy because its normal, their all dicks :) (other than the one direction boys, they have my heart 😻😻)

i would just like to add that im okay, and just like billie eilish once said

“But next week, i hope that somewhere laughing

For anybody asking, i promise i’ll be fine”

———————————- 🩷 -———————————

It’s currently 2:12 in the morning on boxing day and im sat in bed holding back tears because i hate you.

I hate how you made me feel like I was the most beautiful and amazing girl in the world and that no one compared to me.

I hate how you would fall asleep on call with me after telling me you love me more than life itself leaving me with a heart full of warmth.

I hate how you put in so much effort to connect and talk to my friends even though you didn’t like them just to see the smile and laugh on my face.

I hate how you would call me petnames like,my princess, sweetheart and baby because it would make me blush and giggle to myself and feel like a little girl being called pretty for the first time in her new poofy dress

I hate how you would take genuine interest in my day and my interests and ask me questions I hadn’t even thought of myself that makes me feel giddy and excited to answer knowing you would judge me, just listen with smile on your face.

I hate how you promised you would come see me when the time was right and make memories with me that I could keep in the necklace I got for us that you never knew about because you left to quick.

I hate how you lied to me and told me she wouldn’t be that part of your life again because she hurt you more than you could ever think of.

I hate how your going to get hurt again and feel the same pain I saw in you when we first met even though I told you to let her go, not for me but for yourself.

I hate how your not there for me to go to after something fun has happened and I need to show someone pictures and something silly my friends did.

I hate how your not there for me to come to when I need to sleep but struggle because your not there to tell me ‘Sweet dreams my princess, I love you more than you will know’.

I hate how you make me feel now that your gone, like theres a hole in my sad little heart no one can fill but you and your stupid curls.

I hate how much I love you after only a short amount of time and how I trusted you to stay with me and not leave without warning like the others.

I hate how it's not hate; it's the ache of missing someone I loved too quickly. Trusting you to break the cycle, to stay when others left abruptly, only deepens the sting. I hate the lingering love after such a brief encounter, the self-loathing for getting attached too easily. In just a week and a bit, you became a tear-stained chapter, leaving me to grapple with emotions that linger far beyond our time together.

So, here I am, torn between hating you for the hurt and missing you despite it all. It's a complex web of emotions, and I grapple with the reality of loving you within a remarkably short time, only to find myself hurt and questioning my own vulnerability. But in the end I just want you to know that I don’t hate you, I just hate who she makes you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

  Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

[blookmallow]

hi i binged through all of salad fingers for the first time in like 8 years and im fixating again here are. My Theories. pls talk to me if anyone else has Thoughts or wants to discuss things. this is really long i am sorry :’ ) 

also shout out to the salad fingers wiki for helping me keep track of details and also for this 

-----

thought: salad fingers is not violent on purpose he did not mean to kill that kid 

this is less a theory and more “if you slander my boy with accusations i will Get you” but listen. i see people going “but he mURDERED A CHILD!!” because of the oven incident but listen. listen to me. he didnt mean to and cannot be held to the same standard of morality and understanding consequences as a. person who isn’t..... in whatever situation and mental state he has going on

- yes, the kid getting trapped in the oven was his fault. but it was not intentional or malicious and i sincerely doubt he understands what happened or why. 

he was asking for help reaching the fish (there’s no reason to believe he wasn’t just genuinely asking for help. he tears up in gratitude. theres no evidence of him Tricking People Maliciously in any other context i do not believe he would do that) and was distracted by the rusty nail, causing him to let go of the door. it wasn’t “he cares more about rust than about a child’s life” or something, i dont think he can actually hold “hey look at that i gotta check that out” and “i need to hold the door open so the child doesn’t get hurt” in his head at the same time, rust is his favorite stim/an impulse thing that takes over everything else and his perception of reality and the things going on around him changes very quickly and easily. more on that later. but the important point here is it wasn’t a malicious plot, or a neglectful careless action, he literally did not realize letting go of the door would cause harm 

he stabbed himself accidentally with the nail and passed out for a while (the fact that he immediately bled that much is concerning too, he probably has hemophilia which is. a medical condition outside of his control, as well) and after all that he had completely forgotten about the child altogether (and says “i must have dozed off” so he doesn’t even understand he passed out. and might not remember the nail thing in the first place) 

we don’t see what happened after this, we don’t know how he responds when he investigates the fish and inevitably finds an unexpected charred corpse in there, but i guarantee he won’t remember why its in there or understand that its a corpse. we dont see it again so its. entirely possible he didnt recognize it as a person and either just disposed of it or, uh, ate it. but if he did, it wasn’t with the knowledge and comprehension of it being A Corpse or the memory of how it got there 

theory: on salad fingers and memory / comprehension of death and consequences 

more on that subject

- we see him frequently doing things and then immediately forgetting he did it or forgetting what was happening. he accidentally squishes the bug (which also was not malicious or intentional, he intended to pet it but just. went too hard) and has no understanding either that its dead, or that he killed it. she has gone flat and gooey for some unknown reason. that’s strange. she needs to go have a wash, that’s no way to be. 

he eats the jeremy fisher puppet at one point and then immediately goes “where have you gotten to??” 

he even briefly forgets hubert cumberdale’s name and immediately comes up with another one without realizing it, and then later goes back to hubert cumberdale again with no mention of barbara logan-price 

he refers to the same little yellow guy as “young child” and also Auntie Bainbridge later on. he keeps up the fantasy of... whatever the fuck yvonne was being his child for a pretty long time but then when he arrives at “auntie bainbridge” ‘s house he suddenly forgets why he’s there, and even apparently forgets what yvonne is and uses  ‘her’ as a window rag instead and never mentions it again (I also don’t think she was in the sandwich at the end either. it’s hard to see but the sandwich contents are vaguely brown and theres a visible lump in the black goo behind him. i like the idea that the lil yellow guy made the sandwich for him) 

salad fingers is constantly subconsciously adjusting his reality to fit Whatever Makes The Most Sense At The Time and does not consistently remember things (sometimes even major things. he remembers his puppets the most consistently and still even forgets hubert’s name) or have a concept of cause and effect 

i think he possibly has some sense of recognition, “I’ve seen this person before,” but doesn’t always remember Why he knows them, and his mind just automatically fills in the blank with whatever makes sense to him. he doesn’t remember who the yellow guy is, but knows he knows them Somehow, so, ah, of course, it must be auntie bainbridge out for her sunday stroll :) and he knows he’s there for a reason, but not what that reason was, so he decides it must be time to clean the windows 

- milford cubicle was already dead when salad fingers opens the door, but he has no idea that hes dead. this isn’t even a cause for concern. my, he must be tired, that’s all. he kept milford there until he rotted away, too, so there was never a point where he realized anything was wrong (until he became skeleton. more on That later too) 

- he finds a corpse buried in the yard and rather than confronting the confusing and alarming reality of that situation, why it must be kenneth, back from the great war! at no point does he understand kenneth is definitely dead

theory: kenneth vs glass brother

i think he really did have a brother named kenneth who probably died in the war. could be some subconscious connection between “recognizing” a corpse as his brother, but i dont think he realizes any of that. i think the glass family is probably a trauma based hallucination, but a... well, reflection. pun not exactly intended lmao. on how his real family was and how they treated him

i dont think glass brother is the same brother as kenneth, since salad fingers interacts with them completely differently 

kenneth is a corpse that salad fingers projects a personality on and speaks for, while glass brother seems independent and malicious toward him. i think he had a good relationship with kenneth (so, when salad fingers imagines that he’s here, it’s cause for celebration and he’s projecting onto something inert and “safe”) and also had another brother (who was probably his twin) who bullied him and acted violently, so when that trauma resurfaces, he hallucinates a vicious Other that he cannot control or speak for.

it also tracks that the abusive brother was his twin - he sees himself reflected in the mirror, and something in his own face reminds him of that lost brother until it “becomes” him

he refers to kenneth as his younger brother, and sees him as a being that does not look like him, while glass brother is literally his reflection, so it would make sense if he had one identical twin and one younger brother 

ive seen theories that he had a real sister named bordois too, but i think him calling the bug “little sister” was just. a term of endearment or one of his little odd language quirks, he seemed to be talking to it more like a pet than like a sibling 

theory: regarding mable

- ok people are saying salad fingers killed mable at the picnic but i Really Don’t Think He Did

we never see him acting out violently when he gets scared. he tends to try to escape situations that stress him out, he shrinks, he cries, he goes into his cupboard (which is. incredibly upsetting given the fact he was almost definitely abused by his family) 

he takes on a kind of Authoritative Tone often, he gets sort of ruffled up and disdainful toward things, but that’s not what he does when he’s scared

when he’s actually distressed (rather than irritated) he tends to break down and retreat. this includes when other independent beings act in ways that unsettle and upset him 

so i dont know where the “he freaked out and killed her” idea is coming from. he suddenly goes from outside at the picnic to having a breakdown in his house so. he most likely just ran 

i think the Only time we see him act out violently is when he decides he has to punish marjory for not getting a haircut like he asked - he tears her hair out, but for me that scene was particularly concerning because it was so unlike him. that was an anger response, not a fear response, though, and he tends to be harsher toward things that he’s actually controlling (I don’t think we ever see him decide to Discipline something that was independent from him other than the horses, and he didnt hurt them) 

ordinarily when something irritates him he just goes “hmph! so distasteful. how rude. i shan’t have this behavior, you know” but doesn’t really actually do anything about it, and moves on

anyway we never see mable again so i think either he freaked out and ran away and she just didn’t come back, or he scared her and she ran away, or both 

there’s a dress visible briefly when salad fingers is making his Flesh Boy which could be mable’s (he did comment he liked it) but it’s not 100% clear, and that doesn’t necessarily mean he KILLED her for it. she could have changed into something else and left it somewhere and he found it. she could have died under unrelated circumstances, and salad fingers found her - he doesn’t comprehend death, so. probably he decided they’ve made amends now and she’s given him her dress as a token of friendship, or something 

i dont think it really looks that significantly like hers but the fact that it stands out so distinctly from the rest of the Pile could mean something 

but i just feel like if he had killed her we would’ve seen her corpse again, he doesn’t have a concept of murder, or death at all, or consequences, and his memory doesn’t hold out that consistently, so if he killed her, he probably would have calmed down later and then forgotten what he did and came up with a new way to explain the corpse in front of him - oh, how rude of me, mable’s here dozing right off and i havent even offered her a blanket. let’s get you to bed

like, he probably would have dragged her home with him, with the intention of being a good friend/host to his guest, not understanding what happened. he kept milford cubicle around a really long time  

it wouldn’t be like him to have any concept of hiding the evidence

speaking of milford 

theory: regarding milford cubicle 

salad fingers keeps milford’s corpse around until it starts rotting, and then after a very confusing series of events, the corpse is suddenly a skeleton, which surprisingly alarms salad fingers considerably, and then he goes out to find a whole bunch of himselves eating various bits of gore. they give him a present, which is a hat very clearly made of milford’s skin 

my conclusion: salad fingers, in some kind of dissociative fugue state, skinned and ate the remains of milford cubicle himself and turned the remaining skin into a hat. he also saves some of it to make hubert cumberdale (the real boy) later as well, probably forgetting where it came from. he does not realize he’s done this or remember doing it, so his scrambled mind tries to make sense of it with other selves eating unknown flesh, and a lovely hat appearing (which he doesn’t seem to notice is made of flesh) 

you can also see milford’s original name tag in the drawer later on when he’s building the flesh boy, so. he kept that after the mysterious disappearance of milford’s flesh, apparently. more evidence that that skin is probably also his

some other scattered thoughts regarding the most recent string of episodes and salad fingers’ mental state: 

ive been trying to figure out what the fuckhell happened with the yvonne incident and everything that happened in the birthday episode

im really concerned for salad fingers’ health and mental state, as it seems to be deteriorating 

some yvonne theories ive seen:

1. he ate the burned corpse of the kid who died in the oven, and it made him very sick, which ultimately resulted in a charred mass he couldn’t digest - he steadily gets worse, until his body finally ejects it (yvonne’s “birth”) and after that his health starts to recover again. since the oven incident happens really early on, all the times he mentions his stomach being upset after that until he becomes deathly ill would make sense, so i think this is plausible 

2. the hair he found in the cupboard was actually a parasitic worm that grew in his stomach after he ate it and became yvonne. i think this is Possible, it is a really strangely wormy looking hair, but it doesn’t move and he mentions stomach pains before this, so it seems less likely to me 

3. i also saw the concept that salad fingers is a trans man who suffered a miscarriage at some point in his past and yvonne represents that, and i can definitely see where the idea is coming from but i do think something really physically happened to him in the present time, i dont think it was all a trauma-based hallucination, since the yellow guy reacts to the black ooze and something was definitely making him severely ill 

so. i Don’t Know what the fuck that was about but i think the burnt corpse theory makes the most sense 

on that note: there’s a lot of cannibalism imagery in salad fingers 

we have no IDEA where he’s getting food from. im pretty sure its been confirmed that he is Not a zombie, we see him bleed, pass out, sleep, etc so it seems like he must be a living person who has ordinary needs. but we see him eat... his own puppets. hairs. sand. the soup glass mother instructed him to make, which made him very sick. he has a working oven but doesn’t seem to have consistent access to water. he had a fish somehow but who knows where it came from. it’s very likely he doesn’t get food often and some of his hallucinations and mood swings could be caused by starvation (and when he does eat, it’s things that are outright inedible or probably not good for him) 

the burned corpse disappears and is never mentioned again (though salad fingers is very sick afterward). milford’s flesh disappears and salad fingers violently hallucinates multiple selves gorging themselves on unknown flesh

and what concerns me the most about that is that he loses a lot of time in that episode 

he passes out in the woods and when he wakes up, it looks like a shit ton of time has passed

we don’t know how much is reality and how much is his warped perception, but it looks like a tree has grown and his physical condition has deteriorated 

he looks really, really unhealthy and haggard for the rest of the episode 

i think he had a huge dissociative episode and lost possibly weeks of time, probably due to starvation, and he ate milford cubicle and very possibly other people as well 

so my question is. how often does this happen to him

and what happens to him during that state? does he become violent and dangerous without being aware of it when he returns to himself again? or has he just been ravenously scavenging corpses when he gets desperate enough? 

its possible dr papanak is another personality he has, one that’s “buried out in the woods” that he becomes when he’s in a really, really bad mental and physical state 

he looks much better in the next episode (though that’s also when he has his outburst with marjory. could be that he’s still staving off the violent urges/hasn’t fully come back to himself after the last incident) and I’m really hoping the fact that he was able to finally stand up to his family (at least in some sense) and smash the mirrors could mean he’s making steps toward recovery after whatever the hell all that was 

there’s not really much space to do anything with his life or get much help given the circumstances but watching him slowly losing himself even more is Awful :( 

i hope we get more episodes im so desperate for more information now 

lastly, some random observations 

i tried to read this newspaper and it looks like it’s actually written in french, which is interesting given that salad fingers seems to be british (but fond of france, and seems to speak french or at least knows one phrase) 

i wonder where he got this, or whether it ever meant something significant to him

theres a lot of evidence that he can’t read (takes no notice of the “harry” nametag and immediately names him something else, “reads” a letter that is actually a newspaper clipping in another language he’s holding upside down, “writes” a letter that is just scribbles) so i dont think he learned his one french phrase from this or anything but, still. vaguely interesting. maybe he has been to france before and brought this back with him for some reason. maybe he’s actually in post apocalyptic france and was just originally from england. We Don’t Know 

theres a weird little face in the. heater? whatever that is in the background for a second and i dont like it  

salad fingers leaves horace in charge, but then sees him (as a live horse) in the woods, but then comes back to find him both still on the shelf (as a toy) and in the room (as a live horse, now with his, uh, surgery scars) but doesn’t seem to notice this and doesn’t comment on it 

i dont know what the hell that means other than possibly his reality is even less consistent and logical than usual/a reflection on his mental state deteriorating 

[lunarifie]

The hollow soulmate au?

A soulmate au where Kai and Adam are soulmates but a country apart. Kai runs away from his abusive household on a journey to find his soulmate who lives in the U.S while he, himself resides in Canada.

Next

In this soulmate au theres the classic red string. But the red string also indicates how far away your soulmate is. The farther your soulmate, the thicker the string is. The closer, the thinner. When a soulmate finds their soulmate the red string disappears.

Vanessa, Mira, Reeve, and Adam are close friends in high-school in the U.S. All of them are 16 including Kai.

Mira and Vanessa are soulmates. Mira used to have a different soulmate (who was Skeet) but before she met him her string disappeared. After some research they learn that her soulmate apparently died.

Vanessa never had a string but as she and Mira grew closer a string appeared and then immediately disappeared when they saw each other again. Indicating they were soulmates.

Reeve does not have a string. He would date a few people who also didn’t have strings but they never felt right. Eventually he figures out that he’s Ace/Aro and accepts his identity.

Adam has a string. Adams concerned he’ll never meet his soulmate due to his string being quite thick. But he has other things to focus on. Like school, his extracurricular activities, and helping out at his moms diner.

Kai’s string is connected to Adam. He lives in a neglectful and abusive household with his manipulative parents.

Neither of his parents are soulmates, which he overheard in one of their many arguments.

After some time, he came to the conclusion that they both married for money. And he honestly wouldn't mind if they weren’t at each others throats 24/7.

He’s considered running away multiple times. One time he did at age 10. It didn’t go well. But he promises to succeed this time with a semi thought out plan.

Kai is trans ftm. Kai is aware he’s trans, but his parents aren’t accepting. Meaning he hasn’t been allowed to transition. Though unbeknownst to his parents he made his own binder.

His phone also has a tracking chip, learning this after tinkering with it, he tries to take it out to salvage the phone. But is unsuccessful, before he leaves, he destroys the phone.

He plans to escape on a night that his parents are at work. He packs his most necessary items, steals some cash, cuts his hair, burns it, and puts a hoodie on in an attempt for no one to recognize the rich families child.

His goal was to get as far away as possible and then stop and settle for 3 days.

Usually the main issue of running away is where someone would go. But that issue is immediately solved when Kai sees the red string on his finger.

Buses and trains are his escape. With the cash he stole from his parents, he hops buses and trains all night. He has a list of populated cities he should stop at. Keeping in mind of where he was going and where the string was directed.

After settling in one of the populated cities, he does small hustle jobs to get some extra money. After using half the cash to pay the bus/train rides.

He stays in the town longer than he planned to. Staying at a few homeless shelters, buying a tent, and using public restrooms.

He stops at a public library to use a computer. Prints a map and buys a compass. Learning that his string is directed south, and doing a bit of research with how thick his string is, signifying how far his soulmate is. He figures that his soulmate is somewhere in the U.S.

Now having a semi basic idea of where his soulmate is, he has a new goal.

After saving up enough money he's on the move again.

His parents never file a missing child report. A week after he ran, his science teacher reports it. Kai is already long gone by then.

He did his best to transition. Not just to make him feel better in his own skin but to throw suspicion off him. They were looking for a well mannered spoiled little girl. That wasn't who he was.

On his journey, he does a bunch of jobs. Buying a cheap practically broken violin, and fixing it up. His strict music lessons finally coming in handy.

He meets a lot of people and makes a few acquaintances. (This could include human versions of a bunch of characters from the hollow.) but sadly with no phone he can't keep in contact with them. But he promises that when he buys one he'll call them with the slips of papers they gave him with their numbers on it.

It's a big step. To go from a secluded prison to an open world.

[literaila]

the truth is weightless

spencer reid x reader

part two to “four i love you’s, one goodbye”

you should probably read that first its important. 

okay so i was looking through and editing and like an idiot i deleted the post.  because i’m an idiot, so if you’ve already seen this... thats why i’m so so sorry... luckily enough i save all of my writing... and tried to remember as much as i could about the rest...

this was requested but theres spoilers so i’m not showing it mwahahahaha

warning: mentions of death, angst, my writing, and lots of crying, blood? i think? maybe?

The shock was palpable.

It lived in Spencer's brain, circling his head for hours a day, a constant nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

He refused to go to her funeral.

He refused to leave his house.

The pain was unbearable.

He spent every day, every day, alone in his small apartment, with all of her things. He lived surrounded by the memory of his best friend, his best friend who he was too late to save, his best friend who loved him with all her heart, his best friend who had died in his arms, died never knowing just how much Spencer loved her.

He couldn't even say the words aloud.

He lived in a constant regret, which swallowed him whole forcing him to live in its dark cave, to live in the bottomless pit, where he couldn't see anything, he was forced into regret with its cold aroma and dark secrets. He lived there, stuck with no way out.

He lived in the cave with the knowledge that he couldn't even admit the truth, the truth that he had so stupidly kept a secret, the truth which he worried might have saved his best friend. He fell deeper and deeper into despair, deeper and deeper down, with regret filling his body whole.

He still couldn't admit it.

He spent each day in his bed, each day surrounded by the boxes his friends had brought from her apartment, brought because he was the closest to her, brought because he was the one that was supposed to go through them and decide what was worth keeping. He spent his days surrounded by all of the things that she wrapped herself in, all the things she had put her heart into and bought, and he didn't even bother looking at them, nonetheless getting rid of what he- what she would never need again.

The others tried to coax him out. Tried to make him understand how worried they were, tried to get him to just get out of bed for one day, to just go outside, to just feel the light on his skin and the air in his lungs.

“Hey Pretty Boy, you know I’m here for you.”

“Come on Genius, we all miss you.”

“Spence, it's going to get better.”

“Reid. I know.”

“Kid, we’ve got a home waiting for you.”

Nothing worked.

The one voice he wanted to hear wouldn't come to the door.

Sometimes, he was almost sure he was forgetting about her, he almost couldn't feel her with him, couldn't hear her voice in his head, couldn't remember the way she looked when she smiled at him, he was almost sure she was disappearing out of thin air.

He knew he couldn't just forget her, knew that the memories of her would never actually go away, but some days, on the days when he needed her words to remind him, on those days he could never remember anything about her. On those days he cried because he didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to be gone.

On those days it was harder to think about anything.

He refused to go to the funeral.

Her life was worth more than a million parties.

Her life was worth more than some tears, and a couple of speeches.

Her life was worth the world.

So he didn't go. No matter how much anyone begged him to. He never answered the door, never answered the pleas coming out of desperate voices, never answered the angry remarks, never thought about anything except the way he wished he could hear her laugh one more time, just once more.

There was no relief from any of it.

There was no ending to the pain in his heart, that sometimes he worried was killing him, there was no ending the regret that lived deep within his brain, that kept him locked inside of himself with no escape. There was no ending to the memories of her that liked to remind him of how much he had lost, that liked to rewind in his brain, that liked to be played over and over again.

The only ending was hers.

He wondered if she had been in this much pain when she died, he wondered if in some way they were connected by the things that hurt them the most. He wondered if that would be the last connection they ever had.

The consistent pain.

He tried not to remember the look on her face, the words on her lips, the way her chest contracted in pain as she laid there next to him. He tried to not remember her last moments, the only moments she had left, he tried not to remember how helpless she looked, and he tried not to think about the smile she gave him, the smile she always gave him, as a last reminder that she was still alive.

He didn't want to remember any of that.

He didn't want to get out of bed, or take a shower, or eat something, because what was it worth if there wasn't her voice on the other side of the door. What was it worth to even try if the one thing he wanted he would never get.

He still couldn't admit it out loud.

It was until the wellness check, the check that had been forced upon him and his home, it wasn't until then he decided to leave.

His friends, his family, they had forced him out.

Forced him away from the constant pit of loneliness and sorrow he lived in, the pit that he refused to leave no matter how much they tried to push him out of it.

It wasn't until Hotch reminded him, reminded him of what she would think

“She wouldn't want you to live like this Spencer, think about what she would do if she knew what you were doing to yourself.”

It wasn't until he remembered her stubbornness, and her temper, and her undeniable love for him, it wasn't until then he decided to get out of bed.

The rest of the team made themselves busy with cleaning his apartment, with moving the boxes somewhere Spencer wouldn't trip over them, with cleaning his kitchen and washing his clothes.

Spencer didn't have the energy to say thank you.

He sat on the couch and watched his friends take care of him, he stayed silent and tried just to power through the wave of exhaustion that ran through him.

He already wanted to be back in bed.

Staring at his friends, his friends who seemed perfectly fine, his friends who were not weighted down by the emotions they were feeling, staring at his friends who had to take care of him, who could take care of him because they were just fine, staring at them only made him feel pathetic.

It was Derek who stopped to sit with him, it was Derek who saw the dwindling light fading from his eyes, it was Derek who saw his friend starting to fall apart even more just when they all thought they might be able to put him back together.

It was Derek who sat next to him.

‘Hey Kid,' he said, as he sat down on Spencer's small couch.

Spencer didn't react to his voice.

“Spencer.” Derek tried again, this time his voice more firm.

Spencer looked over at him. His eyes looked dull, his cheeks drooped into his skin, his shirt was practically falling off his shoulders. He looked like he hadn't been alive in weeks.

“Kid it's going to be alright.”

Spencer blinked. Just blinked at his friend, just blinked, and thought about how he wanted to go back to bed.

“Spencer I promise. I promise it'll get better.”

Spencer only looked away, but this time, this time Derek saw something different. He saw a crack in the hard stone that made up Spencer, he saw the change in his eyes, the slight flinch in his face.

He tried again.

“Talk to me, Reid.”

It felt like the first time anyone had said anything to him, it felt like the first time he had heard words from anyone but the voices in his head for weeks, it felt like he was finally going to be done, that he was finally allowed to be done.

He looked over at Derek with tears in his eyes. His mouth was quivering, his hands were shaking.

He didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit the truth out loud, out loud where everyone could hear, he didn't want to admit how wrong he had been, he didn't want to say it just didn't want to say it.

He tried to hold it in, tried to keep himself up.

He tried so so hard.

He failed.

“I loved her so much,” he said brokenly, falling apart, all the pieces he had tried to keep together falling on the floor and into the ground, and deep somewhere inside him something broke.

He sobbed.

Derek pulled him in, pulled him closer so he could hug him, so he could remind Spencer that they were still there, that they weren't going anywhere no matter how broken Spencer felt. They would always be there for him.

“I know,” he whispered as Spencer sobbed.

As he sobbed into his shoulder, as he sobbed for his friend, for the girl he had always looked up to, for the person he had never gotten to tell how much he loved her.

He sobbed in the loss of the only person he had ever denied his love too.

He wished he hadn't admitted it.                                                          

***

Eventually, he had to get back to work.

The team was splitting up, and they needed as much help as possible.

Spencer had to drag himself out of bed.

Before leaving Hotch had said to take as much time as he needed, that he understood how hard it might be to come back, that he respected whatever decision Spencer made.

But it wasn't enough.

He had to go back, if not for himself, for her, for the people she would want him to save.

He had to do it.

So he worked, and he worked, and he avoided every memory and every ache of his heart. He ignored the constant reminders of her in his brain, and he pretended her picture on the wall of fallen agents, he pretended that picture didn't exist.

He didn't want to think about how she shouldn't have been up there at all.

He put all of his energy into working, into saving all the people he could because he knew that was what she would want, he knew that she would never ever want him to give up on something he had devoted her life to. He knew that if he kept working, if he just kept working, eventually, eventually the pain would fade.

It had for her at least.

He worked on cases, but he also worked on Ian Doyle.

The man had killed two of his friends, two of the most important people he had ever known, and as long as he kept it a secret, he would be fine.

He and Derek kept it as underground as possible, only involving Garcia when necessary.

He became obsessed with working on it.

His mind was constantly running over the different places Doyle might be, was constantly thinking about everything he knew about him, was constantly looking for new ways to find him. He couldn't get the man out of his head.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about the way he had killed her.

He pretended he wasn't thinking about her at all.

He pretended he didn't notice the looks JJ gave him when he was lost in thought when he was simply too tired to say anything, he pretended he didn't notice the way Penelope doted on him, the extra way she made sure he knew she was around. He pretended Derek didn't give him hard looks when he got too invested in a lead he had on Doyle.

He pretended that stupid picture wasn't hanging up where he walked past every day.

He pretended it all wasn't happening.

And he still lived in his constant cave, the only safe place he was familiar with, he lived deep in the dark where no one could see him, where no one could see the pain that was eating at his body, that was biting him to pieces when he didn't have anything other to think about than her. He lived in the darkest, coldest moments he could think of, and he didn't want to leave.

He had become so familiar, so used to the feeling of nothing, to the feeling of pain turning him to pieces, he thought that if it stopped if he felt better for even the littlest moment if it stopped than he would forget her.

He would forget all of the pain she was worth.

He was afraid he wouldn't remember how much she meant to him.

So he never got out, never left the open cave, never searched for the entrance, the little bit of light he thought he saw sometimes in the moments where he finally felt like laughing, he pretended that entrance didn't exist.

He was so cold.

It was like that for months. Just him, and the cave, and the people that kept trying to call out to him, and the voices he ignored.

And the memory of the person he hadn't been brave enough to talk to.

It was like that for months. Until, until there was a sign.

Until there was a picture of Doyle, the slightest glance of him until they finally knew where he was.

Spencer felt frozen staring at the man. Staring at the cause of the pain he felt tearing him apart.

Derek had to take care of it from there.

Spencer was sent to take care of Doyle’s son, and he wasn't sure if it was because Rossi needed his help, or if everyone was too worried, too scared of what he would do if he saw Doyle.

He wondered that himself.

He tried to breathe, to remind himself that it was almost over, that he had almost gotten the justice she deserved, the justice both of his friends deserved.

He sat back, he tried his very best to keep the straight head, to help out in any way he could, to remember everything he knew, to remember all the things that could help them, that could save a little boy.

He tried his very best to not fall apart at the thought of her, at the thought of her death, at the thought of the man that had caused her death, he tried to keep himself together, for her, her, for her.

Her.

He felt almost useless.

But his family was coming back, all of his family was going to be there, they were all looking for the same thing now, there was no more keeping secrets, or doing all the work with just Derek, now he had all of them.

When Hotch came back there was a moment of joy in his heart, just a moment of him feeling relieved that his boss was there, it was only a moment. The tiniest moment imaginable. But he felt terrible.

She died, she died because of him, she died because he wasn't fast enough, she died and he wasn't allowed to forget that.

He was really trying to not forget that.

He shouldn't be allowed to move out of his darkness, to leave the cave that surrounded him, she wasn't allowed to come back, and he shouldn't have been allowed to leave, he should have to feel the pain for the both of them.

Glue all the pieces together, for her.

Just figure it all out for her.

Avenge her.

Then, after that, feel the pain.

Back in the cave.

He just had to remember.

***

They all sat around the conference table. Hotch had told them he had important information, he had something that he had to tell all of them.

Spencer wondered when it would be over.

He wondered when he would finally be allowed to go back home, to go back and be alone, he wondered when he could finally turn his mind off, could finally stop remembering everything, could finally just go to sleep. He wondered when it was finally going to be done.

He hoped it would be soon.

He was exhausted.

But Hotch had something to tell them, he had something that Spencer needed to hear.

Spencer needed to be awake for that, he needed to listen as much as he could.

His body was sinking under him, practically shriveling away because of the sleep deprivation, and the malnutrition, and the pain the pain

He kept his eyes on Hotch.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team…As you all know Emily and Y/N had lost a lot of blood after their fights with Doyle... But the Doctors were able to stabilize them.”

Spencer felt lost, felt his mind running over the memory of JJ telling them they hadn't made it, felt himself remembering the sound of his heart breaking, the feeling of all his blood rushing to his brain. He didn't understand, they were not stable, the doctors had not been able to save them.

His mind was connecting dots, and running over everything, and he refused.

He refused to believe he was right.

“Their identities were strictly ‘need to know’… And they stayed there until both of them were well enough to travel, they were reassigned to Paris together where they were both given several identities none of which we had access to, for their security”

No.

No, they died. Spencer remembered. He remembered.

He shook his head.

That was a lie, it was all a lie because they had both died, because she had stopped breathing in his arms, because she had said goodbye to him, because she had left, because he had locked himself away, because she was gone, because she was gone, she was gone she was gone

She was gone.

She wasn't walking through the doors, she wasn't there, she wasn't really in the room, this had to be a joke, had to be a dream had to be something that was meant to hurt Spencer, because it was working it was really working because the pain was there because he was being torn apart because this wasn't real this wasn't real

“Hi,” she said.

And it wasn't real, and it couldn’t have been real, Spencer was just hearing things, he was just stressed, just wrapped up in everything because she wasn't really there she wasn't really there she wasn't she wasn't.

He was still shaking his head.

And his eyes were stinging, and he felt like she was laughing at him, he felt like they were all laughing at him because this was a joke because this wasn't real because this wasn't happening.

“No.” He said, he said, so quick, and so insistently.

He had to be making this up because he wanted to see her because they wouldn't have lied because she wouldn't have left without telling him because this wasn't happening.

He walked past her, past all of them, past the girl who had been mourning for months, past the girl he was imagining.

He pretended he didn't feel the way his shoulder brushed against hers.

***

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any issues. He was supposed to blame him because he had called the order because she was alive she was alive she was still breathing.

He was supposed to go to Hotch with any problem he had.

She was alive.

Shock was keeping him a hostage everywhere he went.

She had tried to talk to him, had tried to explain to him, had tried to smile at him, to smile at him with the smile he thought he would never ever see again, with the smile he imagined so many times, for so many months.

He didn't even look at her.

He couldn't look at the person he thought he would never see again.

Shock was holding him back, keeping him from accepting the truth, keeping him from saying anything to anyone.

She was alive.

It wasn't real.

He was going to wake up, wake up anytime, and she was going to be gone, and the pain the pain he felt the pain he had forced himself to feel for months, he would go back to that, he was going to wake up and it would all go back to normal.

He thought that the pain from before, the heart breaking pain of never seeing her again, he thought that that pain was much better than the one he was feeling now, at least he had a reason for that pain, at least with that pain he didn't have to live with the overwhelming shock.

Doyle had been caught, the man that Spencer had tried his hardest to find- for her it was all for her -and that came with repercussions of its own.

The team was forced to go under trial, was forced to recount everything that happened, was forced to prove to the judge that they were worth keeping their jobs.

Spencer still wasn't talking to her, even when she tried to go up to him, even when she called him with the new phone he had gotten, even when the team pulled him away from work and took him out, even then he refused to talk to her.

He was so terrified.

He wanted it all to be real, wanted it all to be real, didn't want to have to wake up to the dream he was living.

He still wasn't sure if it was real at all.

It took weeks, weeks of putting her things back together, weeks of trying to get back to work, weeks of getting everything ready so she could get back to her life, weeks of overwhelming changes that came with being gone for half a year.

It took weeks for her to get Spencer alone.

She knew he didn't want to talk to her, she couldn't tell if it was because he was angry, angry that they lied, or if it was because he didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to learn about the persons she had become in the months they had been apart.

She didn't care.

She loved him, she still loved him so much, so much that he’d been the only reason she got better, the only reason she had stayed away from him for so long. Her love hadn't faded, hadn't removed itself from every inch of her body even a little bit, and he had to know.

He had to know how sorry she was.

It took weeks to get the chance to talk to him.

It was a celebratory party, one celebrating Emily and her, one celebrating the jobs that they were allowed to keep. It was a celebration.

And Spencer still felt dead on his feet, still felt like he wasn't allowed to talk, wasn't allowed to look at her.

He could barely stand to feel her body heat, to feel her presence from across the room.

So he found a balcony, one that was big enough for him to not feel as claustrophobic, one that looked up at the stars.

That's where she found him.

She just watched him for a moment, she appreciated the peaceful look on his face, the look she hadn't seen on him in months, she appreciated him just standing there. When he was standing there he reminded her a little bit more of the friend she had left behind.

She stared for a couple of minutes.

And then Spencer started to feel it.

He felt the change in the air, the shift in the mood, he felt the body language coming from her almost ten feet away, and he could practically smell the perfume he hoped she still used.

He turned around.

And he looked at her.

Accidentally.

And he felt his heart being torn apart.

She looked beautiful, she was smiling a soft smile, her eyes were alive and bright, her skin was glowing and Spencer could feel the warmth reflecting off of her onto him.

It was the first time he had looked at her since he’d found out.

And she was beautiful.

He felt his heart shattering into pieces at the realization of just how much he had missed her, at just how much his heart had longed for her to come back, at the feeling of the empty space she’d left behind being filled.

He had no idea how to deal with the feeling.

He was so overwhelmed.

“Hey, Spence.”

And he felt himself sob at the sound of her voice.

At the words, he had imagined her saying so many times, at the gentle vibration, at the gentle tone she always used with him, at the sound of the voice he had longed for, the voice he had kept hidden in his head for so long.

She was alive.

“Oh, Spencer.” She said as she walked over to him, as she grabbed his arm as she touched him for the first time in months.

He sobbed harder at her touch.

And he desperately grabbed onto her.

He desperately held her.

He relaxed in the feel of her arms around him, in the feel of her gentle curves, at the feeling of her just being there.

She was just there.

He held on to her tighter.

He was so afraid she was going to leave, that she was going to disappear out of thin air, that she was going to be gone, that she was going to leave just like she had before.

“Please don't leave.” he choked out, his voice breaking, his eyes terrified, his body falling to pieces in her hands, in the hands of the person he had missed for so long.

Tears fell from her eyes at his words.

“I’m not going to Spence. I’m not leaving you again,” she assured him, she said completely sure that it was the truth.

“Y/N” he sobbed again, his body shaking as he held her, as he said her name, as he said the one word he hadn't muttered in months.

She was actually there.

Y/N breathed him in, she held onto him, she tried to search for the words that would convince him, that would tell him that she was never going to leave, that she would never leave him again, that she couldn't stand to be apart from him.

They stood there, together, just together, for the first time in so long, they stood there and they held each other, held the pieces together.

She was alive.

Spencer tried to breathe, he tried to control himself, he pulled back so he could look at her again, so he could memorize everything about her, all the things he was worried he would forget, he looked at her and felt the air finally make it to his lungs as a sweet relief, he felt his entire body-calming, his darkness moving out of the way at just the sight of her face again.

“Y/N.” he said again, his voice less desperate, but his tone more final.

He was trying to convince himself of the truth again.

“Spencer,” she said back, she said quietly. And she smiled at him.

And he couldn't help but smile back, he couldn't help but appreciate the truth at that moment, he couldn't help but feel the cool relief rush through his burning body, rush through all of the things he was trying to keep calm.

“I love you,” she said.

And Spencer felt amazed.

It wasn't a goodbye, it wasn't like last time, she wasn't desperate, or scared, or in pain, she was right there in front of him, admitting the words, admitting the truth that he hadn't been brave enough to say, she was right in front of him and she was telling him she loved him, and she was alive she was alive and-

He loved her. He loved her so much, he loved her more than he loved anything else, he missed her more than anything, and he wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to ever let her go.

No, she wasn't saying goodbye this time.

She was,

“I love you.” he choked out, his words blocked by the bliss in his chest, the exhilaration in his body, his words hidden behind the tears he was letting run down his cheeks.

This wasn't a goodbye.

“I love you.”

It was

Hello.

my masterlist here

do you get it? goodbye? hello? dsfshds look at me connecting the dots i’m so funny thank you so much for reading

taglist: @fiftyshadesof-reid @gublerspublers @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @jamesdeerest

[g3nosarchive]

titled  ❝ good kisser ❞

✧ pairing leone abbacchio x gn reader 

✧ genre fluff

✧ warning wine, being a tiny bit drunk, mentions of sex but definitely not smut 

✧ extra close friends drink at 1 am and reader gets a lil bold .. abbacchip’s character took me a minute for this is way later then it’s meant to be, finally got a title before having to add it to my masterlist <3 feedback appreciated 

“leone.”

“what?” he doesn’t need to glance at your face to know it’s a question, staring up and out the window to the glimmering web of stars outside.

his almost empty glass of wine reflects the moonlight and you massage your temples.

“are you experienced?”

he takes a moment, a particularly long moment before you see him blink in your peripheral vision, his right eyebrow cocked up.

“experienced with what? sex?”

you laugh, much more naturally than he’d ever thought and shake your head. “not sex, i mean are you experienced?”

“with what,” he sighs, still stuck on the visage of the stars.

“with hmm.. matters of the heart. or love? pursuing? courting. that stuff.”

turning to you slowly, he gives you the most incredulous look you think you’ll ever see in your life. you smile sheepishly as his mouth drops open a tiny bit, and the words ‘mind boggling’ appear in your head.

“are you sure you’re alright in the head? you’re asking if i’m a romantic.”

you laugh into your elbows away from his gaze before looking up to meet him, still shocked and confused.

“yes i’m very aware. i asked my drunk and broody goth friend if he has a sappy romantic history.” he blinks and you laugh a little more, “yes, the one with the potty mouth and the potty tea pots and other clear issues. really nice lips, currently staring at me like i ate his tea pastries with a broken spoon and dipped it in rotting fish flavored gelato.”

he cocks his head slightly to the side, an innocent instinct, confusion and amusement twinkling between blinking lashes.

“you have a very unique way of talking and describing huh.”

“i think you mean.. a different kind of bullshit, but flavorful and easier to tolerate. everyone seems to say something like that after an average of three conversions.”

now he laughs, but not audibly - his shoulders rise with a rare animation and a smile hides beneath his hand, nothing but hushed breaths tumbling out. you lean forward, balancing on your elbow and your chin jutting into your palms, observing him in full, a much free-er abbacchio.

"hey. kiss me.”

his shoulders shudder this time while he chokes not-so-silently on the wine in the back of his throat. your eyes connect and at the sharp twitch of his left eye you laugh just a tiny bit - 

“what? why?”

somewhere in the back of your mind you think it’s cute how his whole body follows your every movement while you shift to rest against the headboard with a sigh of comfort. “you should be asking me how, but i’m a very magnanimous person, so you can choose.” he makes a grunt-ish sound and your eyelids start to droop on their own, closing down on your somewhat magnetizing eyes, and thankfully so he thinks.

maybe the wine’s finally got to you, maybe the darkening of the street lights made you feel a bit drowsier than normal, but now it’s his chance to study your face. your brows are relaxed, and the usual, as slight as it was sometimes, tension gone, the moonlight set upon your lips like a halo...

“kiss me, leone.” he wonders if this is your idea of a joke but it doesn’t matter, third time really was the charm. the harsh clink of a wine glass on the nightstand sets off something in your stomach; dormant butterflies decide that now’s the time to play hopscotch in your belly, delightful, but your heart was pounding like a festival drum, so equally nerve-wracking.

the heavy depression in the bed moves closer, the scent of something that sounds like it’d be named magenta darkwood dances to the tip of your nose and a body of heat settles beside you. the dozy pull on your eyelids go slack with the addition of a sliver of adrenaline, and you pop your eyes open to meet his cloudish blue irises, much closer than you’d expected.

he jumps back, both of you furiously blinking before a hand gingerly covers your eyes.

“i can’t do anything with you staring at me, so..”

the signal in your head to respond with a nod, a hum, or something comes way too late, his scent floats around your face and a calloused delicate pinch on your chin guides your lips to meet his. waves roar in the back of your mind as you sit there, mind promptly turned to mush.

the kiss felt generously sweet and much softer than anything you could manage to think of.

he pushes just a bit firmer, and the tingly buzz from his lips joins the firecrackers going off in your head, a dazzling spectacle if anyone could see, before pulling away and lightly removing his hand from over your eyes. you can’t bring yourself to look up - still processing the feeling of it all  - even as his gaze burns into your face.

a minute passes like this when he shifts to your side, to your surprise, also leaning against the headboard, eyes closed.

“what, now you’re nervous?”

no, that’s not it, you think, padding a finger over the lingering warmth on your lips. i just never expected to be such a soft kiss, especially from you.

“you were the one that had to cover my eyes to actually do it,” he hears you murmur, “but still, i never expected you to do it like that..”

“what do you mean ‘like that’? you didn’t like it or what,” he says, and normally he would be mad, or stony faced, but there’s a tiny curve to his mouth in the corner of your vision.

theres a pause and you blink, warmth pricking your cheeks like a dull needle. “i just never expected you to kiss so gently. that’s all. you look like the type to kiss roughly you know, ‘fierce’ written all over you - bite my lips off and all.”

he’s silent, just listening and very obviously staring and you share a glance for exactly two seconds. 

“...i did like it, if you’re wondering. i don’t think i’ll ever uh, forget it, so don’t worry. plus, you’re a good kisser -”

a dull thump sounds out as he lightly tosses a pillow at your head, his eyes dark but his voice clearly amused. “you think i was worried about that? go to sleep. of course i’m a good kisser. it doesn’t even sound right to question it.”

“don’t pretend like your shoulders didn’t relax until i said it,” you smile, throwing the pillow back at his chest, “and you go to sleep too,” turning over on your side, “and don’t hog the blanket.”

the pillow ends up pushing at your back as he lies down as well, quick to snatch just enough of the comforter to get you to turn around. 

“what?”

“goodnight.”

for the at least 7th time that night you share a deep look before turning around, returning the same word and pulling a slight bit of the covers away from him. the lights are off and his breathing evens and the sleepy actually starts to encase you in it’s arms - until you’re actually encased with arms, giving a stunned side eye glance back. in his sleep it seemed his hand unknowingly wandered over to your waist, and you didn’t have the heart to move it so you let it be. (truthfully, it was comforting. and who were you to refuse comfort?)

mere seconds later he shifts closer, separated by the pillow but still close enough to feel his body warmth, wrapping his arm tighter around you. 

who was it that said he was asleep.. asleep my ass.. he’s clearly awake you conclude, the deep rumble of a laugh reverberating through the pillow separating you both a dead giveaway.

[kuronanox]

Every moment with you-Ukitake Jushiro

"If I had to be reborn every lifetime it would always be you."

(Your Name) sighs while sitting on the floor packing all her belongings and putting them in boxes to move out the barracks. This was the hardest thing to do, everything they shared and everything Ukitake had were being placed else where. It didn't feel right to her but and she just lost her husband and home.

She felt lifeless as Kyoraku sat across from her and frowned. Of course he was still heart broken by his best friend, his brother death. They were inseparable.

"(Your Name) I know it's hard but I promise you things will get better."

"Better said than done." She answers back but doesn't look him in the eye and folds his captains cloth placing it in a nice decorative box where she put all his special belongings.

"You will be okay out there?" He asks worriedly as she nods her head in response and rubs her red eyes from all the crying.

"I'll check up on you every often." Kyoraku sits himself up and takes one last look of Ukitake and (Your Name) house before looking down and bidding a farewell.

"(Your Name) come here." Ukitake kindly smiles at his wife as she set the hot tea down. Walking towards him he held a brush as she sat in front of him and hummed in delight.

"You know my favorite part of the day is at night and we get to spend quality time together." He says as she hums in response.

"My favorite part is waking up to you." She answers back as he chuckles and ties her hair back in a low bun as she turns towards him.

"I guess your answer is better than mine." He slightly pouts and takes a sip of the tea that was prepared.

(Your Name) curled in bed alone as she cried again they spend hundreds and years together as friends and the love of each other life's. So she asked herself how do you fully heal if you've spend most your life depending on each other.

Ukitake was no longer here, who could she depend on that was like him? His soothing voice and calming nature made her feel secure.

Looking out the window it was a starry night as she moved out to the country side to heal more. Setting up his shrine and everything else it was weird. Never had she been alone like this.

(Your Name) wondered was his soul reborn yet? Was he in Rukongai or the Human World? Either way it would be impossible to find him. There's was millions of soul getting reborn everyday.

"You're sick! I'm not letting you leave this room." (Your Name) yells at Ukitake as he coughs and holds onto his desk for support as she ran to his side and held him up.

"Yes but work comes first." He says softly and sits back down to do unfinished business.

"Honey. You've down enough, maybe it's time you retired? It's only a matter of time and you are only getting older!" She exclaims as he chuckles and swats her away kindly.

"I still look young though."

She rolled her eyes and pouted, Ukitake health was slowly getting worse but it never stopped him from working hard and supporting his squad.

There were times she worried he didn't have long to live because of how severely sick he would get at times but those thoughts she bore were heavy on her heart.

"I'm just scared...what if something bad happens to you?"

Ukitake looks up to her and grabs her hand gently with his and kisses it.

"I'm here right now that's all that matters."

"But what if there comes a time you aren't no more?" She questions as he knits his brows to find words to say.

Ukitake didn't know what to say because he also knew.

"You know I'll always have you and I'll be somewhere better." Although those weren't the words he wanted to say the truth had to be told as she looks down and nods.

"I love you." She whispers and he smiles.

"I love you too."

Waking up the sun peaked up as she groaned and looked towards her side.

"I guess its still a habit. I can imagine you here but you aren't here."

Getting ready for the day she had a unexpected visitor. Well it was expected but he didn't tell her.

"Good morning!" Kyoraku happily says walking into her new place as she smiles back and lets him in.

They both said their prayers to the shine before setting up the table to eat breakfast.

"How are you holding up?"

She wanted to lie but didn't know how to.

"It's okay, I can't say I haven't stop crying and doing old habits but I think being out here is better and getting the fresh air feels nice."

The older man hums in response and stares out to look at the flowers scattered everywhere. "He would have loved it out here."

"I know... that's why I decided to come out here. It's more like 'you've worked hard let's go rest somewhere peaceful now' I know it's time for me to rest also."

Kyoraku smiles and then looks at Ukitake picture.

"He's smiling down at us (Your Name) theres no need to torture yourself no more."

She rolls her eyes playfully and looks at the picture too before grinning. "I know but it's hard."

"I'm not leaving him!" (Your Name) screamed at Kyoraku as Ukitake prayed to Mimihagi as to becoming the right hand of the soul king.

"I promised him you would not die in this war!"

(Your Name) cried as she watched Ukitake sacrifice himself and suffer in pain.

"You knew and didn't tell me, you guys both knew! How could you let me leave him like this." As she cried and  fell on the floor.

Kyoraku grabbed her forcefully as she struggled to get loose and she screamed in pain.

"I'm not letting him leave by himself."

"Don't be selfish (Your Name) you aren't thinking! He's doing this for the sake of Seireitei! He's doing this for everyone! For you!" Kyoraku yells at her as she looks away and cries into his chest.

Glancing back at Ukitake she wasn't sure if he was still physically here.

Wiping her tears she cooled her head and nodded.

Kyoraku left as she signed and laid in bed. She would go back to work when she was fully healed but as of right now she didn't wanna do anything.

Life at this point had no meaning to her if he was gone.

"I promise you I'll get better."

50 years later

It took her a few years after Ukitake death to piece herself back together, during the time she went back to being a shinigami and full filling her duties to protect souls and those she loved.

There had been a disturbance in the world of living so her and few lieutenants were sent down to the world of living to check it out.

"I feel a high reitsu coming from the west." Hisagi says as him and Kira went to check it out.

"I'll check east and Renji will go south." Rangiku tells (Your Name) as she nods and follows north.

It had been many years since she was last down here. It had been during Aizen's battle.

"The human world has changed quite a bit."

After reporting a few suspicious incident to Kyoraku she watched the sunset alone waiting for the others.

A man in his 30s walked by her reading a book, he was smiling peacefully with his hair tied in a low pony and a nice button up.

The white hair tamed.

She gasped slightly as he looked up to her and his eyes widen a bit.

"You can see me?" She asks questioning him.

"I can see you, Ive seen many things since I was a child." Ukitake laughs not fazed a bit from her outfit and sword.

She felt happy tears fall from her eyes as he jumped a bit afraid he had hurt her feelings because she was dead and he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so happy. You're alive."

He tilts his head in confusion as she wipes them away.

"My name is (Your Name)." She introduced herself as he kindly bowed

Although she wanted to bring him back he had a different life here and showing them together would only confuse him.

"Your name sounds familiar to me." Ukitake says as she sadly smiled and lied to him. "Maybe it's common around here?"

"No it's pretty unique. I've heard it somewhere." He says but can't seem to connect the clues.

Oh how was the world was cruel to them both at this moment. She would have to remember all the memories of them as his was mixed with confusion and facts.

"Do you believe in rebirth?" She then asks him as he nods his head. She took a deep breath and said the following words Ukitake told her before his death and sacrifice.

"If I had to be reborn every lifetime it would always be you."

Ukitake touches his head as it started to feel a bit dizzy and she held him and he gasps. He knew for sure something about her was familiar but he was getting frustrated not being able to figure it out.

Tears fell from her face as Ukitake eyes were watering. "Why am I crying? My body is doing it on its own."

Ukitake was beyond confused but she wouldn't let him suffer no longer. She knew he was safe and happily healthy living down here and that's all she needed to know.

"I'll wait a few more years for you and then we'll meet up there."

Ukitake looks at her and reached his hand out. He didn't want her to leave this comforting feeling and Ukitake knew he knew her somehow but he can't remember.

Kissing his forehead she took one last glance and disappeared.

"I'll see you then my love. I'll watch over you till it's your time and then we can finally be together again."

Ukitake looks up to the sky as the uncontrollable tears fell from his face and he tried his best to compose himself. He just couldn't as he cried, he felt something from her and he would have to wait.

As much as he wanted the pain to leave, his own heart neglected his mind.

"I'll see you again (Your Name)."

(Authors note: Oo so sad, Ukitake is literally so precious, he didn't deserve death.)