#are they in immediate danger? is someone else in immediate danger?

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai)

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

part one

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he did like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

[tossawary]

That "even if you're writing a non-canon pairing in fanfiction, you have to respect that these characters will probably still care on a basic level about their original love interest" post was inspired by a lot of things. But foremost inspired by any "Fullmetal Alchemist" fanfiction that tries to convince me that Edward Elric doesn't actually like Winry Rockbell at all.

Like, uh, no. Ed would die for Winry, so jot that down. Even if you're writing an AU where one or both of them are gay, which is fun and fine, Ed and Winry are ride or die for each other. They've known each other for so long. They trust each other so much. When they're arguing with each other or annoying the other, it's because THEY CARE. This is basic characterization for them.

I was amusing myself by thinking about an AU in which Ed's romantic interest is someone like Ling Yao, in which there's some dangerous situation where Ed has to choose between saving Winry (his sister figure in this AU) and saving Ling. I was immediately like, "Oh, he would FOR SURE pick Winry in most scenarios. Sorry, Ling." Which would suck for Ed, because he hates failing to save anyone, but is also funny to think about with Ling specifically, because I think that Ling would actually respect this decision more.

Unlike Winry, Ling is a combatant with bodyguards, and so can be trusted to handle himself in dangerous situations. (Which obviously does not make Ling a BETTER love interest for Ed than Winry, Winry doesn't need to be good at fighting, it's just a different skillset.) Ling is also a leader, someone who wants to be an emperor someday, and I think he has opinions on loyalty. Despite feeling grateful to be saved, I think Ling might think poorly of Ed choosing him (a relative stranger, even if he is a legit snack) over Winry (functionally a member of Ed's family / clan, a skilled specialist who is necessary to Ed's own combat capabilities), because Ed sure as shit wouldn't be considering future political advantages with Xing here, so it would be choosing a new love over family / a loyal friend. Depending on the scenario (it all depends on the specific situation for all of these cases), I think that Ling might choose to save someone like Lan Fan or even Mei Chang over Ed in a lot of situations, especially because Ed would HATE IT SO MUCH if Ling knowingly sacrificed anyone for his sake.

Non-canon pairings and their AUs are interesting to me partially for how they interact with the existing canonical relationships and how they negotiate with canonical motivations. For some characters, romantic relationships are just not as important as familial ones or their own goals. Obviously, for Edward Elric, (depending on the specific situation at hand, of course) he's going to choose Alphonse over nearly anyone else.

#tossawary fma #edward elric #winry rockbell #ling yao #edwinry #edling

[exilethegame]

k but what would your characters do if Commander gave them a box to look after but they were told whatever they do, do NOT look inside?

hmmm now I'm curious what MC is putting in there

Vethna: I think this depends on MC's personality. If MC is genuine, they'd really want to look, and they'd probably just pout a lot, but they wouldn't. If MC was stoic or aggressive, Vethna would take it a lot more seriously and just not look at all-- they'd probably assume it's something bad or dangerous. And if MC is sarcastic, they'll immediately open it the second MC even kinda turns away, fully expecting it to just be empty or something stupid.

Nikke: Would depend on MC's body language! If MC read as being super serious, he probably wouldn't open it and would smack other people's hands away who try to. Definitely spends the entire time wondering what the actual fuck is inside the box. If MC is just screwing with him, and he'll know if they are (trust me), then he'll be like "Oh, yeah for sure, mhm, whatever you say Captain," super sarcastically and then just immediately rip the top off.

Jost: "Okay." (Proceeds to do exactly as asked and hold it until MC comes back for it. If MC never does... oh well.)

Amilia: Asks a billion questions as to why she cannot open the box. Is there something hidden in there? Is it dangerous? Is it a gift? For her or someone else? Is it something embarrassing? Does peeking through a gap in the lid but otherwise keeping the lid on count as opening...?If she's super close with MC, she won't open it, but she'll be oh, so very restless about it. Otherwise... yeah, she's peeking. Sorry. Choose someone more responsible!

Sabir: "Okay... why...?" Would not look in it, even if he thinks it's a prank. Would be very suspicious about the box regardless. Proceeds to try and subtly ask MC in a million different ways what is in the box and will not stop prodding until MC tells him. I mean this could literally last for years. MC forgets about it and then they'll be hanging out years later, MC confiding in him, and Sabir will just... "you know what ELSE was a secretive, sensitive topic...?"

Syfyn: Raises a brow, stares at the box, then takes it and does as asked. I don't think she'd care what's in the box, or if there even is anything in the box. Like even if MC was just pranking her and it was empty, she'd still carry it around. She'd probably know it was empty too and just be like "man I wonder why this empty box is so important to MC. I better keep it safe for them."

Freedom: Why would you even do that. Why. You could literally hand them Pandora's box, make it clear it's Pandora's box, and Freedom would be like "oh that's sick" and then pop the top right off.

#answered #freedom #syfyn #sabir #amilia #jost #nikke #vethna

[missglaskin]

Hi I had a question have you ever considered writing for ACOTAR and what do you think about the series and who would be the worst? Yandere to have if you could do a ranking this is not a request. I just wanna know your opinion. I hope you have a good day or night. 😊🥰❤️

I didn’t make a ranking but I did rate them (1 least worst, 10 being pretty bad) hope you don’t mind

Feyre only wants what's best for you, at least that's what she thinks. She feels a great deal of guilt when her mind wanders to dark places. Feyre doesn't like lying or deceiving you, but she always tries to justify herself. She is extremely protective and fiercely loyal, going to great lengths to keep you safe; the end always justifies the means. Everything goes well with Feyre as long you don't struggle against her and just let her take care of you. 6/10

Elain seems harmless at first, lost in her own world, spending hours daydreaming about you rather than approaching you directly. She's shy in approaching you, but her infatuation with you grows steadily and soon enough you start seeing her more often. She does not resort to violence like the others but pretends to be your friend while subtly isolating you from everyone else. You realize a little too late that Elain is scheming to keep you all to herself, not when she gives you that sweet girl. 4/10

Nesta appears cold and distant at first, often trying to push or avoid you altogether. Unaware it’s Nesta’s realization of her intense feelings and maybe it was her way of trying to protect you. But in moments of jealousy or danger, Nesta’s possessiveness becomes glaringly apparent. She does not want to chain you down, but she fiercely wants you all to herself. Desiring to have you solely for her own gaze and touch. You should just trust her and let her make all your decisions on your behalf. 6/10

Mor's danger lies in her manipulative nature and her relentless desire to get what she wants. The second she set her eyes on you; she wanted you. Mor takes the role of your friend, gaining your trust and coaxing you to confide in her. Letting you reveal your deepest secrets and positing herself as your savior to ensure you feel indebted to her. You can never point the finger of blame to Mor, she’s always one step ahead even when you find yourself isolated and powerless to make your own choices. 7/10

Amren is not someone who immediately raises suspicion, but there's an air of uneasiness. Not interacting all that much with her at first. But you'll feel eyes watching your every move yet when you turn to look, nothing is there. She in a way positions herself as an ally, subtly guiding you in the way she wants, all to assert control over you. As time passes, her tendencies begin to surface and she can no longer conceal her possessiveness. Finding yourself isolated and confined to a little place all alone with her. 8/10 

Rhysand is charismatic and not even you are immune to his charms, despite your better judgement. He's so good at pulling the strings, steering situations to his advantage. You could accuse him of an act that you know he has done, but he'll turn it around, making you feel guilty for doubting him. When Rhysand senses you're slipping away from his gasp, he won't hesitate to resort to extreme measures. You're trapped with no allies and no means of escape leaving you no choice but to depend on him. 9/10 

Cassian's intense loyalty and protective nature may seem his best traits, but it's a means of suffocation to you. Cassian is convinced he knows what's best for you, stubbornly insisting on his ways even if you push him away or outright reject him. His impulsivness guides his actions, causing him to raise his voice or grip you too tightly, but Cassian always apologizes afterward, you must forgive him right? Cassian is nice to have if you never resist and simply allow him to do as he pleases. 7/10

Azriel doesn't approach at first, preferring to watch you from a distance, meaning all the time. His shadows are tasked at keeping him informed and ready to protect you from any impending danger. When Azriel involves himself in your life, he becomes the center of it. Bid farewells to your past connections as he demands your full attention, confined under his very control. You may be allowed some freedom if you comply, but resist or fight back, it won't bode well for you. 8/10 

Tamlin is a storm that's looming, ready to engulf you. His protectiveness and possessiveness are like a chain around your neck; suffocating. He's controlling and has a desire to keep you by his side at all times. No matter how much you fight back, Tamlin believes you'll come around eventually, time is all he has. Sometimes, his temper flares and he lashes out, destroying things in his path, and seeing your fear brings him back to his senses where he apologizes profusely, promising it won’t happen again. 9/10 

Eris is intensely jealous and controlling, viewing you as his and his alone. There's a high likelihood he'll keep you trapped, unwilling to let you go. But beneath all his possessiveness, Eris is somewhat desperate. He long for you to just open yourself up to him, to surrender to his touches. With everything he went through, Eris doesn't wish to inflict harm on you. Why must you force him to restrain you, to him it's so simple, why not just give into him, a life where he shows you devoted love and loyalty. 7/10 

Lucien is aware of his tendencies and has tried to avoid you, but keeps finding himself drawn back to you, unable to resist gazing at you from a corner. He's consumed by his obsession, devoting himself to you completely, and Lucien finds himself unable to fight against it. He never wishes to harm or trap you; he has seen the damage it caused. He hopes his charms and time will be enough to win you over, and become so entwined in your life that you can't take him out of it. 5/10 

#yandere acotar #acotar x reader #yandere concept #yandere x reader #feyre archeron x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #nesta archeron x reader #elain archeron x reader #tamlin x reader #eris vanserra x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #amren x reader #morrigan x reader #cassian x reader

[whoblewboobear]

I’m gonna take Kipperlilly from some of yall 👀 you can like a villain without trying to clear their name. She objectively is a murderer and a villain this season. It does not make you a “””””bad Person””””” if you like her. You do not have to try and age her down or make her out to be innocent or gentle or sweet or misunderstood. You do not get to use her mental health to excuse her actions either.

At this point, a lot of these post are getting into slippery slope territory, especially concerning mental health. You can be mentally ill and still understand right from wrong. Infantilizing people struggling with their mental health can cause harm. There are mentally ill people that can/will/do go their entire lives without blaming and trying to harm others because of what they’re going through.

Like I feel like we’ve officially hit Joaquin Phoenix Joker levels of ‘we live in a society’ discourse. Yes, there are things that suck and living with mental health issues and having that make your life harder sucks. But then funneling that feeling of unfairness and frustration into harming other people is not okay or justifiable. It’s a clear sign that someone went untreated or their mental health was not taken seriously enough soon enough.

There are a lot of young and impressionable people in the d20 community (a community that is overwhelmingly very supportive and cognizant of mental health) that will see the KLCK discourse and take some of these things to heart. Please be mindful in what you post. She is a fictional character and in context of the story, instead of getting further help or seeking better treatment for her mental health, she chose to harm people. Some responsibility does fall on her in that regard. Not all, but some. There is a point where things get very concerning when you become a danger to yourself or others, Kipperlilly is in that place to be very clear. She needs help.

Yes she is underage, and I do think Jawbone has a heavy responsibility to either reach out to her parents to report her behavior and figure out a treatment plan for her immediately. This never happened, even when she admitted to wanting to kill Kristen. She continued on, untreated and without her rage issues not being fully addressed. Then she murdered someone.

Infantilizing Kipperlilly to absolve her of her wrongdoing isn’t the convo we should be having. Figuring out where she falls on the morality scale does nothing, she’s one of the villains of the season, by that metric, she’s not a great person (not because of her rage disorder, because of her actions.) There are complexities to her. The conversation we should be having is why not a single faculty member or adult that interacted with her and witnessed this behavior didn’t say “woah hey, let’s pump the breaks and get you assessed for a few things and get to the root of what’s going wrong.”

When you see someone struggling, reach out, assess the situation. If you’re an adult and are in a position to help, don’t hesitate to do so or notify a parent or guardian in their life so they get them help. If you’re underage and see a peer struggling, check in and if something sticks out to you as concerning, reach out to an adult that can help or find someone to help. Don’t enable violent or harmful behavior. /Please/ that person can end up hurting themselves or someone else.

#I- listen I will go on about mental health all fucking day #it is VERY important to me #I���m not a professional or a doctor #I’m only speaking from personal experience of having family and friends with mental health issues as well as dealing with my own since I #was 12 years old #I’m now 24 and I have been consistently in therapy the entire time thankfully #initially because my mom and sister saw what I was going through and got me help and then Into my teen years to present day I continued to #seek treatment #it is dangerous to enable behavior like Kipperlilly’s #it is deeply irresponsible as well #like no she’s not real but the kids in the fandom are #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #d20 fhjy #fhjy

[sumnthingabouther]

⋆·˚ ༘ * boss! Abby x subordinate! fem! reader

nsfw towards the end

cw: slightly obsessive abby, implied inappropriate activity in a workplace. men and minors dni

Now you didn’t know this but Abby always had eyes for you, ever since you first joined the company a year and some months ago. initially you weren’t under her division, having been under someone else in the finance department. Meaning she had to watch you from afar. But god did she love it when she caught you in the morning. Your slightly tired face while you held your leather binder tightly in your arms. The way you shuffled to the elevator in your almost barely work appropriate skirts. One time you had made the mistake of bending over in front of her. Accidently bumping into her in the early morn as you were making your way to your cubicle, causing all your papers to scatter across the ground. Apologies fell from your mouth profusely while work to get your fallen papers off the ground.

“Its all good, here let me help you with that.” The offer came from a genuine place, however when she saw you bent over in that extremely short skirt, a flip in her switched. After helping you she watched you scurry away, a smirk plastered across her face. God how she wished she could get a view like that again.

She spent months remembering your schedule, what time you got to work. what time you got lunch. what time you clocked out. Everything…. in a non creepy way of course she just wanted to see more of you. As time went on she began to grow antsy , simply knowing your schedule wasn’t enough for her anymore she wanted to keep a close eye on you. Eventually, she had some strings pulled getting you to transfer under her. It was better this way, she needed to keep an eye on you.

You never knew why you got transferred over to her so suddenly, but the position you were offered was much higher than your previous one and the pay was so much better. You took it with no second thought. Plus you were already well acquainted with Anderson, working under her would be a breeze. Or so you thought.

You began to notice how she would hover over you, initially you thought it was her making sure you were adjusting properly. “Just making sure you’re doing okay, don’t be afraid to step by my office if you need anything.” Then came the passive aggressive attitude towards your coworkers that got a little to got to close to you. Noticing how she scowled and folded her arms that flexed under her dress shirt when they walked away. “She can handle that just fine, if she needed your help she would’ve asked.”

Then came the day you dreaded, getting called into her office out of nowhere. your anxiety skyrocketed as you made your way down the hallway, heels clacking against the cold ceramic floor. Your hand hovered over the door knob of her office door, taking a breath before opening it. Abby welcomed you in, the tone of her voice was surprisingly soft which made you relax a bit, and to your surprise she spoke highly of you.

“As much as i love praising you, lets cut to the chase.” her tone immediately dark. fuck here it comes, you were so getting fired. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Wait huh? Abby shot up from her desk, she was circling you now with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“E..excuse me? Ms. Anderson-” “Abby is fine,” she interrupted. “—and you heard me clearly, you’re a smart girl aren’t you? You can put two and two together.” She was taunting you now, and as much as you tried to hide it, it turned you on so bad.

“Now do me a favor doll, and lock my door for me.”

#SUMNTHINGABOUTHER© #T writes ⋆·˚ ༘ * #non rqs 🪷 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #tlou2 smut #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #been ITCHING to post this one omg #i didn't mean to make her semi obsessive i promise #or maybe i did #hehe

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Das Irrlicht

An Irrlicht (stray light, also called a stray wisp, swamp light and ignis fatuus) is a certain luminous phenomenon that is supposedly occasionally sighted in swamps, moors, mires or in particularly dense, dark forests and (more rarely) in cemeteries. It is the same phenomenon commonly called will-o'-the-wisp in English.

In folklore and superstition, Irrlichter are usually seen either as the malicious work of supernatural beings or as the souls of the unfortunate deceased. According to popular belief, following Irrlichter or even trying to catch them brings bad luck. In the natural sciences, their existence as independent entities is fundamentally rejected. Reports of alleged sightings are nevertheless investigated, however, because in nature there are both living creatures and gases that can produce lights that are very similar to descriptions of an Irrlicht. Scientists therefore suspect that reports of an Irrlicht are simply due to confusion and optical illusions. In art and poetry, as well as in modern subculture, Irrlicht motifs are widespread and popular.

Descriptions of Irrlicht sightings vary; they are usually described as small flames, but more rarely they are said to be fireballs the size of a fist or even a head. Their colour is usually described as bluish, greenish or reddish. There are also different reports about how the Irrlicht moves. They are said to either remain motionless in one place or to light up wildly and then immediately go out again. Less credible reports tell of an Irrlicht moving away from the observer or actually pursuing them, as if they were being controlled by someone else or were intelligent beings with a will of their own.

Irrlicht sightings can be scientifically explained by life forms capable of bioluminescence such as glow worms (Lampyris noctiluca) or fungi such as the bitter oyster (Panellus stipticus). Marsh gases consisting of methane, hydrogen sulfide, and phosphanes or phosphines may combust spontaneously if they reach a critical concentration, causing luminous phenomena.

In folklore and superstition, Irrlichter are said to have an ominous or even malicious nature. In many myths and legends, they are the souls of the deceased who were either evil during their lifetime and must now walk the earth forever as punishment, or who cannot find peace after death and are looking for redemption. Similar stories are told about the souls of stillborn children. Some legends interpret them as the sad souls of murder and accident victims who drowned in the moor.

Most of the time, however, they are understood to be the work of evil goblins, nature spirits, ghosts and/or demons. These are said to summon an Irrlicht or transform themselves into one in order to then deliberately harm people. The light is said to lead travellers, adventurers and the curious to their doom: the victims, who have already ventured dangerously close to the swamp or forest, are lured even deeper by the Irrlicht until they sink into the mud or get lost in the deep forest and die there.

From Sorbian folklore there are stories about the Blud, who are said to appear as Irrlichter. According to tradition, these are the souls of children who died without being baptized. Now their souls are said to wander around weeping in the form of an Irrlicht.

Irrlichter have often been referenced in art and poetry. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe had them appear in his epic work Faust during Walpurgis Night. Hermann Hendrich painted the dance of the Irrlichter for Walpurgis Hall at the Witches' Dance Floor near Thale in the Harz mountains, where according to the legend the witches are having a dance party every year at Walpurgis Night.

Irrlichter are a recurring motif in modern subculture in fantasy and science fiction cartoons, movies, and games. The Pokémon Vulpix, for instance, can conjure an Irrlicht.

[amypihcs]

So i'm dead.

@contact-guy's beautiful comic (i loved it, truly, it killed me.) and watching Hellsing with an offline friend of mine killed me THROUGHLY.

And since i fear i'm figuring out how Holmes and Watson's relationship will evolve into @contact-guy's comic serie i'll curse you with the HCs i made with my dear @i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end today talking about my future drawing of Watson with his loves, Holmes and Mary.

You can probably tell i'm emotionally devastated because my writing is more inconsistent than my usual.

So.

For me is very important that Mary gets treated well, since she exists in canon and is a fantastic woman. And i also love to think that she and Holmes are friends, after all they both love Watson.

My take is, Watson and Mary have kind of a façade marriage based on good friendship and comradeship but without love and generally without sex.

This could work in two ways, both of which are incredibly nice one:

Aroace Mary who needs some sort of social respectability coming from a marriage and got lucky enough to find a man as good and kind as Watson who is more than willing to help her to achieve it without endangering her

Lesbian or Bi Mary in a relationship with a girl, probably her ex employer, could be someone else, who still needs the respectability and stability coming from a marriage and is still lucky enough to find our favourite bisaster, Dr John H. Watson, who is also bisexual and in a relationship with a man and would benefit a lot from the cover of a respectable marriage.

The first one is rather easy to treat. Watson and Mary make good friends during Sign of Four, Holmes notices/guesses that Mary is acespec like him (my Headcanon for Holmes is that he is demigay) and when Watson proposes and she accepts they put immediately straight that it won't be a consummated marriage, ever.

The second one develops in the same way, and this makes so much more explainable the many times Mary is mentioned to be away visiting relatives in canon. Mary is with her partner, Watson is with his partner.

Now angst warning!

Sherlock Holmes looks very favorably upon Watson's marriage, he is in fact the one that pushes Watson into it, and for very good reasons.

Let's put sign of four in 1887, alright? Chances are high he was already pursuing Moriarty, or that he generally was realizing more and more the risk of dying on the job, well, Holmes is a smart man. And a clever, practical and caring one as well. he is a man who loves deeply and cares deeply and wants to always have his affairs in order.

Is it too much of a stretch to imagine that he realizes the higher and higher risk of SOMETHING BAD happening? I don't think so. And he knows that Watson could get caught in the crossfire and he wants of course to protect Watson and offer him some saving net.

He pushes Watson into this marriage that will not mean the end of their relationship but the creation of another meaningful relationship for his love, so that SHOULD I DIE he will have someone to help him weather the storm (would watson care, would he? nobody ever did, but WATSON. Watson cares for everyone... would watson care...). The marriage also means that he will go back into practice, and this is an economic safe net, something always good. Their relationship is of course carefully concealed but such a handsome, sociable, perfect man as Watson is staying unmarried and living with a bachelor friend might give rouse to suspects, marriage will give his incredible partner respectability, something Moriarty or anybody won't dare to attack without sure cards in his hands, and Holmes will make sure NOBODY has any such cards.

Holmes is no coward, but he's not stupid either. He knows his job is dangerous and it might lead to really bad things happening, so he is happy when Watson tells him Mary said yes. He is happy on the morning of the wedding, he is the man who ties Watson's tie and then kisses his lips. He tells his husband to go marry, enjoy his honeymoon and start his life with his wife. And then come back to him, to their rooms and their love. And they both will have tears in their eyes. Holmes will not be at the cerimony, nor will Mary's wife. But they will always support their partners.

Holmes OF COURSE will sulk for a bit, until Scandal in Bohemia. He did what was right, but he still feels lonely. And then Watson comes back. And they're together once more, they're in love and they can break the world apart. And then comes 1890. Watson is a bit more settled down, Holmes has his affairs in order, he can set to the work of his life. And then comes 1891.

Holmes is afraid.

They set fire to their rooms. Home is not safe anymore.

Reichenbach comes.

Holmes is not suicidal, he is terrified. And yet he will once more put Watson's happiness in front of his own. He will not put his husband in front of an impossible choice. He drafts a letter in his head. He leaves it under a silver cigarette case.

He can't imagine he will only see his husband three years later.

His plans worked and failed. But they're back together. Holmes will finally talk. There's a broken window in 221b Baker Street, they're both older, more tired. A bit sad at how things turned out. Mary is dead. Holmes couldn't have forseen that. And yet after some days, after a dinner. Watson will pat the empty spot on his left on the couch, he's still sitting in the center. He will hug Holmes close to his chest, they will remember the times all three of them hugged, Watson and his loves, Mary on the right, Holmes on the left. Holmes on the heart's side, Mary on the reason's side. They will cry. And remember. And be glad for what have been and look forward to what will be.

They're older, more sure of themselves. Watson's status as a widower is respectable enough, he murmurs in the dark. He will only be married to one man for the rest of his life. The following morning, Holmes presents Watson with a French gold coin, for his Watch chain. That will be their ring, their memento.

Years will pass, they will retire, they will always be together, because they never lived, so they can never die. Outside the rain pours and the cabs rattle in the streets.

And it is.

Always.

1895.

Okay, sorry for the immense rant, i have tears streaming down my face, my j'accuse is up in the first lines and it's also my thank you for getting the balls to write this rant on holmes, watson and mary.

#victorian husbands #sherlock holmes #john watson #mary morstan #mary watson

[slaymitchabernathy]

Mr. Peacekeeper

Coriolanus hears her before he sees her. Or well, he hears the other guys and their jeers, alerting him of her presence on the base.

Becoming a Peacekeeper—involuntarily—has been a difficult adjustment for Coriolanus Snow who was used to the ways of the Capitol, to say the least. In that beautiful city, there was law and order, a natural hierarchy and he was so close to making his way to the top.

Snow lands on top after all.

But he fell, fell down the rabbit hole and here he was sitting on the edge of his bunk shining his black Peacekeeper boots. At least he was from the Capitol, he knew the rest of these men couldn’t say the same and that gave him an upper hand. At least in his mind, it did.

It’s empty in his barrack, everyone’s either down at the Hob or in the mess hall. He chose to forego either so he could have some time to himself, plan out his grand future. More like his grand escape. That’s why he’s really here, so see her, talk to her, learn from her.

They do things differently in the Districts. Without the Capitol here to direct and instate immediate order it’s become a bit of a wasteland. And who in the Capitol gives a shit about District Twelve?

The sound of the door creaking open pulls him from his thoughts and he looks up to see Soarynn wearing that sweet smile as she walks towards his bunk. She's put some effort into her appearance today which is a stark contrast to how he first met her, stumbling out of another barrack in the middle of the night, with no shoes, her hair a mess, her makeup slightly smudged and she reeked of sex.

A barracks bunny.

That's what she was. At least that's what Beanpole told him when Coriolanus asked about the messy-headed blonde girl the next morning at breakfast He'd gotten a few chuckles from the older Peacekeepers, "She's real wild in the sheets, you should meet her sometime," Smiley had told him. The idea of a girl willingly entering the Peacekeeper's base to provide...services was somewhat revolting to Coriolanus who was used to women being civilized. He certainly hadn't come across any prostitutes while roaming the streets of the Capitol after dark.

It instantly made Soarynn trash in his eyes. Lowlife, pathetic, District trash.

"Well, don't you look pretty?" He asks, looking her up and down. She's wearing a light pink dress that has lace detailing on the hem. It's probably the nicest thing she owns and she wore it just for him. Her hair is pulled back and there's probably a ribbon tying it up with a few pieces framing her face. Soarynn giggles and plops down next to him, her hand immediately taking his. He's still taken aback by it, her confidence. But Soarynn is more than used to being around dangerous men like him, it's second nature to her.

"Had to look good for my favorite Peacekeeper," she says sweetly, batting those blue-gray eyes up at him. Oh, how he'd love to see them roll back in pleasure. He smirks, "You look the prettiest when you're crying on my cock, but you know that already don't you?"

Soarynn hums, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, the same ones she loves lodged deep in her cunt until she's teary-eyed. “Saw y’all strung up someone else today,” she says, but she doesn’t sound mad like some other people in town. They’d hung a known criminal today after he attempted to attack one of the mine bosses. The crowd was outright aggressive and Coriolanus was honestly surprised shots hadn’t been fired.

He nods, “Yeah, didn’t see you in the crowd though.” Soarynn giggles and drops his hand, “I was asleep.” Well he’s not surprised there. Soarynn is a true night owl, sleeping during the day and wide awake during the night. A bit unusual but when your job is sleeping around with all sorts of men you tend to have an odd sleep schedule.

At first, Coriolanus had been slightly put off by her work. Sleeping around was one thing but selling yourself? He did his best to avoid her, not become another one of her customers. But she was hard to ignore with that smile and those eyes not to mention the moans she’d let out while she got fucked. He knew most men on this base couldn’t give her what she really wanted but it wasn’t really about her and she knew that. Still, she put on quite the show with her exaggerated gasps and moans.

All for a few crumpled up pieces of money.

Eventually he caved. Got her to give him a blowjob one night at the Hob. Soarynn’s services extended past the base into the greater area of District Twelve and she was more than happy to help him out. That’s when he got addicted to her.

Maybe it was because the base lacked a certain amount of feminine charm but Coriolanus was downright desperate for some female company. He didn’t always fuck her. Sometimes he’d finger her or she’d give him head, other times they’d just talk. She was seventeen, one year younger than him but well beyond her years in his opinion. She was funny, clever and so, so sweet.

And no matter how many times he fell asleep with her in his arms, he always woke up to an empty bed.

“Did you have sweet dreams?” He asks, frowning at the loss of physical contact. Soarynn shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter does it?” Well she has a point. And he didn’t ask her to come here for conversation this time. He needs to fuck. Let all his frustrations out on her. The worst part is that she’ll let him do whatever he wants to her. As long as he pays her for it.

It’s almost pitiful the way her eyes light up at the sight of a shiny coin when he pulls it from his pocket. She’s got siblings at home, lots of little ones to look after, mouths to feed. Her mom died when she was little and her dad works in the mines. He has no idea that his daughter’s a whore.

“You miss me?” He asks, placing the coin into her palm, her small fingers wrapping around it. Coriolanus leans in and presses a kiss to her neck, smirking when she whimpers, “Mhm, missed you a lot Coriolanus.” The way his name rolls off her tongue is a sweet symphony. He wants to hear it again and again and again. He slips a hand under he dress, his fingers dragging along her lace panties.

Her lingerie is probably the nicest thing she owns but when you make a living selling your body he supposed that you’d need to invest in a good lingerie selection. He sometimes imagines her in proper, expensive lingerie from the Capitol. Taking her there, giving her a leash and collar and teaching her how to be a good girl for him. Train her.

Soarynn asks him lots of questions about the Capitol, so curious about it all. He thinks it’s cute the way her eyes light up when he tells her a new fact about the city he used to call home. “Why don’t you lay on back for me then?” He asks, pulling his hand back out and earning him a whine. He shoots her a stern look and Soarynn is quick to lay down on his bunk. Thank goodness he chose the bottom bunk because he can’t imagine trying to conquer the top bunk while conquering her sweet cunt.

“How much to finish inside of you?” He grunts, grabbing her hips and tugging her under him. Soarynn gasps and sits up on her elbows, shooting him a nervous look, “I…I don’t know if I can let you finish inside me anymore,” she says quietly.

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows. It costs extra to finish inside that pretty little cunt of hers and not too many men can afford that luxury. Just another thing that sets him apart from these District folk. “Why not?” He asks, his tone far from kind. Usually he wouldn’t fight her on it but he’s had a long day and all he wants to do is bury himself inside her cunt.

Soarynn swallows and stares at the springs of the top bunk above her, “I um…I just don’t wanna do that anymore. With anyone, not just you I swear.” And that’s more than a reasonable answer but Coriolanus wants nothing more than to bury himself inside of her when he finishes and he just can’t take no for an answer. Not today. Not after the week he’s had.

Anger flashes through his eyes and he grabs her thigh, squeezing it so tight that he'll definitely leave behind bruises from where his fingers were, "A bit ironic huh? The District Twelve whore doesn't want to do her job anymore?" He knows he's being mean, cruel, and that Soarynn's just doing her best to provide for her siblings but this just might push him over the edge.

He can't stand it here. The heat, the bugs, the smell, and the people are the worst part of it all. Everyone has sunken faces and bony figures, he's surprised most of them can stand. Soarynn is no different, even at seventeen she could easily pass for fifteen the way her growth has been stunted. Coriolanus can count every single one of her ribs when she arches her back from pleasure and far from well-fed. Sometimes the guys on base will sneak her some food, a piece of bread, or some leftover bologna.

A small price to pay to fuck her senseless.

Soarynn's eyes slightly widen at his hurtful comments but she's got thick skin she shakes her head, "I can't afford another mouth to feed." He wants to roll his eyes at that line of defense because heaven knows Soarynn could never carry a child inside of her malnourished body but there has to be a better reason as to why she won't let him finish inside of her.

"I think you're lying," he says slowly, sliding his hand up to her inner thigh, "I think you're too scared to tell me the actual truth Soarynn." Soarynn presses her thighs together but his hand stays where he put it and she huffs, "What's it matter to you?" She snaps, a defiant look in her eyes, "Not like you wanna be around the likes of me for any longer than you have to." She's got him there. Coriolanus has spent one too many nights telling Soarynn about his grand plans once he gets the hell out of here. She'd sit wide-eyed and listen to him, hanging on every word he said.

"I'll go back to my penthouse," he'd say, "fix it up, get a new chandelier, then I'd go to the University, get a true education. Then it's off to the big leagues, running for President." Soarynn would be so attentive, so interested in his perfectly planned future. One night as they were drifting off to sleep she had mumbled some words that still stuck with him to this day, "Maybe I could come with you, just for a bit."

This little girl often believed in him more than he did and he'd be damned if he let all that go to waste. He shakes his head and sits back on his knees, "There's still something you're not telling me. What is it? Did your old boyfriend find out about your little job?" Soarynn turns a shade of pink at him mentioning her old flame, Billy Taupe. According to Soarynn, Billy Taupe had been her first time in everything. First kiss, first time having sex, and all of the in-between. Coriolanus hated him for that. Mainly because the man was the same age as Coriolanus, making him older than Soarynn. And yes, Coriolanus was no better than him in that regard, but, he wasn't dating Soarynn.

He was fucking her. There's a difference.

She looks down at her dress and he sees something he's never seen in her eyes before, shame. Soarynn is a lot of things, she's quick on her feet, witty, and confident. She's never had any shame for her chosen profession but it's written clear as day on her face.

"My dad," she finally says, "he came home early the other night, must've caught wind of what I've been up to. We argued for a long while before...before he kicked me out. Won't let me see my siblings, won't let me back in the house, nothin' is gonna change his mind." She's crying now and Coriolanus is beginning to feel uncomfortable because all he had wanted was a quick fuck and maybe to get the local scoop on what was happening in town. He doesn't need a sob story but he can play this to his advantage.

He wastes no time in wrapping his strong arms around her, embracing her small, shaking frame, "Oh, Soarynn I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you." He doesn't mention how he has literally been kicked out of his home and the Capitol because that's not going to get him where he needs to go.

He's got to play his cards right.

So he lets her cry, the poor thing sounds devastated as she sobs into his white Peacekeeper shirt. He rubs her back in soothing circles, figuring she might as well get it all out now while she can. When she finally pulls away her eyes are puffy and her face is stained with tears, "I don't know what to do Coriolanus," she whispers, her fingers playing with his dog tags, "I'm staying' with a cousin of mine but I can't stay there forever."

For some reason, his mind drifts to the Officer's test he took the other day. Only those who were Capitol-born could qualify to take the test and Commander Hoff had basically told Coriolanus that he'd get the position considering most of the men on base can't read. He might even get transferred to a higher-ranking District, like District Two. Which was still a District nonetheless but for once, Coriolanus couldn't be picky.

Once he got to Two he'd climb up the ranks until he would be able to get back to the Capitol. He'd make it work somehow, he was sure of it. Too bad he'd have to leave Soarynn and all her troubles behind though. He'd miss the feeling of her sweet cunt wrapped around his cock.

Coriolanus perks up. "Soarynn?" She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand, "Yeah?" It's a crazy and stupid idea but it just might work if he plays his cards right, "I um...I'm going to leave Twelve soon, very soon actually once my Officer's test results come back," he starts, and Soarynn's face drops. She looks even sadder if that's possible, "Oh, oh, well that's real exciting Coriolanus," she mumbles. He bites the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to propose his idea to her. But Soarynn's harmless for the most part, and dispensable but she doesn't need to know that.

"Yes it is and I was thinking maybe I could take you with me."

Soarynn drops his dog tags and stares down at her lap for a moment, his words sinking in. She looks up at him and she looks like she doesn't believe a word he's saying, "Take me with you?" She repeats, tilting her head like a sweet little puppy. Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck because it does sound a bit crazy when you say it out loud but Soarynn could be the stepping stone he needs to climb up the ranks. It's a shot in the dark but it's a risk he's willing to take for her.

He nods, "Yeah. Um, you could come with me, I'm sure I could make it work, convince Hoff to let you leave Twelve, and that way you could kind of start over." He's overselling it but Soarynn doesn't pick up on it. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears and bites her lip the way she always does when she can't make a decision. Sometimes they play a game where he'll put a coin in one of his hands and tell her to pick which hand it's in. If she picks the right hand, she gets to keep the coin. Right now, she has to pick the correct hand.

"I'd have to leave my family," she finally says. There's pain and sadness in her voice but Coriolanus can't afford that, not when he already has this entire thing formulated in his mind, "They already left you," he tells her, cupping her face with his hand, "they all turned their backs on you when all you wanted was to provide for them."

More hurt flashes in her eyes but he is right to a certain extent. Sure, sleeping around with half the District wasn't the best way to make money and it sure as hell isn't legal but at least she was using her assets.

"How would you get me out?" She asks and he knows right then and there that he's got her. Coriolanus presses a kiss to her forehead, "Don't you worry about a thing."

꧁ ꧂

It's a bit nerve-racking to willingly walk into Commander Hoff's office but no one has gotten anywhere without a little bit of courage. So Coriolanus musters up all the courage he has before entering the office, his head held high.

He's greeted with a curt nod and Hoff gestures for him to take a seat, "You've impressed me, Snow," Hoff starts, "haven't had a man like you in a long time." Coriolanus swallows, "Thank you, sir." He has to keep it strictly business until the last moment. Hoff nods and holds up a file, "Your test scores came back. Passed with flying colors, as expected of course. We'll be sad to see you go." Coriolanus feels a small smile tug on his lips, "I'm leaving the base?" He asks, feigning surprise.

Hoff grunts and reaches for his glass of what looks like whiskey and takes a drink, "You are. District Two has a much better program than we do down here. Say, you wouldn't happen to be Crassus Snow's boy would you?" The painful reminder of his overachieving father stabs Coriolanus right in his ego but he nods, "Yes sir, he's my father." Hoff nods, seemingly impressed, "Now that was a real man. Always willing to do whatever was needed for us to succeed. These other men on this base, they don't have that, have the guts, the gaul. You have it though Private, I can see it."

Those words do nothing but inflate his previously stabbed ego. To be praised to the same degree as his father is something Coriolanus isn't used to but he's beginning to like it. Hoff waves his hand in the air, "But that's not what you're here for. You leave at the end of the week, make sure to say your goodbyes and get your affairs in order. Tie up any loose ends."

Coriolanus only has one loose end and he plans on taking her with him whether he reaches to top or the bottom. He clears his throat before leaning forward in his chair, "That's what I was hoping to talk to you about sir." Hoff raises his eyebrow, Coriolanus is sure that the man doesn't get a lot of requests from his men but Coriolanus is willing to be the first. "Is there something you need Private?"

Coriolanus laces his fingers, "There is sir. You see, there's this girl here and I can't find it in myself to cut things off with her." Hoff lets out a laugh, it's so loud and unexpected that Coriolanus jumps in his seat. He watches the Commander laugh, laugh so hard that he has a tear running down his face, "Well give her one more slap on the ass before you go Private," he chuckles, wiping his tear, "can't stay here from some District lowlife."

Coriolanus glances at the closed door that leads outside before inching even closer to the edge of his seat, "You know the girl who comes here at night? The barracks bunny?"

"The blonde one?"

"That's her."

"What about her Snow?"

"That's the girl. The girl I can't leave. I need to take her with me to Two. She won't cause any trouble I swear."

Hoff manages to wipe the dumbstruck look off of his face in under a minute but Coriolanus is still nervous about what he's going to say. He could dismiss him, strip away all titles and achievements and Coriolanus could spend the rest of his miserable life in Twelve. "This girl of yours, she's a crowd favorite isn't she?" It pains Coriolanus to think of all the men Soarynn has been with. She hasn't slept with anyone else since he proposed the idea to her per his request. He'll have to get her properly tested for any diseases.

He nods, "She is sir." Hoff strokes his chin and leans back in his chair, lost in thought, "You know, I've seen her running around my base. Never chased her off though, it's good for the men to have something to motivate them you know. But after all these years I've never spoken to her, never run into her myself."

Coriolanus can't stop the grin from spreading across his face, "What if I could make that happen for you sir?"

꧁ ꧂

Thirty minutes later Coriolanus is walking out of Hoff's office with a skip in his step. They'd reached a wonderful agreement. He finds Soarynn right where he left her, sitting outside with her back against the wall. She's wearing her cleanest dress and he scrubbed her down in the shower until her skin turned pink. He wanted her spotless. Her hair is brushed and braided and she managed to get some makeup from her cousin when she went to get her things the other day to move out.

Soarynn looks up at him and she looks nervous, he knows why though. She's never met Commander Hoff, didn't want to risk getting arrested. He offers her a hand and she gingerly takes it, her small fingers wrapping around his larger ones, she glances at the open door before looking back up at him.

Coriolanus leans down until his lips ghost the shell of her ear, "Go in there and make him happy."

And Soarynn does, because she's his good girl and his favorite little toy to share when need be.

They'll both be leaving on the next train should things go well tonight.

For her sake, he hopes they do.

꧁ ꧂

"I've never seen mountains like that before." Coriolanus looks up from his book and looks out the train window. He can see the icy peaks of District Two's mountains jutting into the sky, "The biggest mountain is called 'The Nut' and there's a base inside of it," he tells her, directly reading from the book in his hands. Hoff had given him the book as they got onto the train so he could brush up on his District Two knowledge. Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks up at him, "You're lyin', no way there's a base inside of that." He chuckles and closes the book, "You'll see it soon."

Getting Soarynn on this train hadn't been easy but he did it. After she spent the night with Commander Hoff she came back to his bunk covered in bruises with blood dripping down her leg. Coriolanus hadn't known what to say when she collapsed in his arms and sobbed until she passed out. The next day he was told that both of them would be traveling to District Two together where she would be his responsibility.

All Officers were given private sleeping quarters which included a single twin bed, a dresser, and a small bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower. There was one window and one door in and out of the small shack but it was much better than sharing with several other men.

Soarynn had been so excited when he told her about it. She didn't even care that she would be thousands of miles away from her family. She'd gone to say her goodbyes to her siblings the morning they left. Coriolanus had accompanied her to the sorry excuse they considered a house. All her siblings looked just like her, blonde hair and blue eyes and they were all so young. Soarynn had kissed all their heads and whispered words of devotion and encouragement before giving her dad a more than awkward hug goodbye.

The man stared Coriolanus down the entire time as if this was all his fault.

Now they were almost to the station where they'd be driven directly to the base. Coriolanus had been more than pleased with the accommodations they'd been met with so far. First-class train tickets, a private escort to the station in Twelve. Things were already looking up for him.

He places a hand on Soarynn's thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, "Remember, manners, no talking unless spoken to and do-"

"Don't tell anyone how we really met," Soarynn finishes for him, "I know. I'm not dumb." She kind of was but he just kisses her temple, "It'll be good for us to start over," he decides.

As they pulled into the station he felt better than he had in a long, long time. Snow lands on top once again.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#slaymitchabernathy #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #wattpad #coriolanus smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ao3 fanfic #soarynn snow #staywithmealways #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x soarynn #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #original character #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus oneshot #oneshot #oc #tbosas #coryo snow #tbosas smut #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas fic

[cosmerelists]

Would Cosmere Characters Drive the Speed Limit?

You know, if cars and speed limits existed for them. (Potentially necessary context: I am a USAmerican)

For a different but hilarious take on Stormlight Characters driving, please check out this @saffronique post, which I spent forever looking for because I vaguely remembered someone else doing a driving post and wanted to make sure I hadn't copied them! Anyway it's funny; go read it: https://www.tumblr.com/saffronique/719947907049127936/was-just-struck-by-the-overwhelming-urge-to-rate?source=share

But now for a much more limited question: just, do they go the speed limit?

1. Nale: Yes but also no

As Mr. Beholden-to-All-Laws-of-the-Realm, Nale would of course drive exactly the speed limit! Except that he would also go immediately to the local jurisdiction, get deputized or whatever, and then obtain permission to speed all the time so as to Apprehend Criminals. So he'd actually be almost exclusively speeding but, like, legally.

2. Vivenna: Only at first

Vivenna does drive the speed limit when she first gets her license, because she wants to Follow the Law and be a Good Example for Siri. But, like, everyone is always so mad, and eventually she starts going just like 5 miles over the speed limit, which isn't even breaking the law, really. It's going with traffic! And then maybe 10 miles over, just occasionally 15 but only on a highway when it's safe! 

3. Siri: No

Like, going a bit faster is not a big deal, especially if all the other cars are doing the same thing. It's actually safer to go with the flow of traffic! 

4. Elend: Depends on who's in the car

Elend drives moderately above the speed limit like most people except if his dad is in the car and then he drives under the speed limit just to piss him off.

5. Vin: No

Vroom, vroom to be honest. Vin doesn't do things slow.

6. Dalinar: Yes

As a young man, Dalinar's speed demon ways led to the deaths of many people. So now he does drive the speed limit and insists that his sons do as well, whether they're in company cars or not.

7. Kelsier: No

Kelsier? Follow a law? I don't think so. He taught Vin to drive, you know.

8. Adolin: Not anymore

When his dad was really into Car Laws, Adolin did drive the speed limit per his dad's instructions. But he's since loosened up a bit. He figures he needs to find his own way to drive!

9. Shallan: No

Shallan drives the speed she needs to drive. Veil definitely drives the fastest, and Radiant is most likely to follow the speed limit. But on average...not so much.

10. Navani: No

Adolin can still remember being in the car with his aunt for the first time and being SHOCKED that she speeds. (In my head this is related to Adolin being shocked when he sees Navani wearing a glove rather than a full sleeve. This may not make sense to anyone else but it feels right to me).

11. Moash: No

Moash always wants to get to his destination as fast as possible. Also I just can't imagine him trying to follow the speed limit. 

12. Wax: Depends on the geographic location

Wax drives the speed limit in the Roughs but not in Polite Society (except in dense urban areas where he wishes to avoid, like, killing children).

13. Wayne: Does not have his driver's license

I feel this in my soul. 

14. Lirin: Yes

I think Lirin would argue that "getting to your destination thirty seconds faster is no reason to speed and put everyone else on the road in danger! Drive safe - arrive safe! That's what matters!" And then he would go exactly one mile under the speed limit at all times while everyone behind him honks. 

15. Kaladin: No

Kaladin spends three months driving very slowly after his dad shows him videos of horrific car crashes but eventually he just can't do it. He NEEDS to get there faster! People are DEPENDING on him! And he likes to feel the WIND in his HAIR as he cruises down the open highway! 

(Kaladin and his dad cannot drive together.)

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Nale #Vivenna #Siri #Elend #Vin #Dalinar #Kelsier #Kaladin #Lirin #Adolin #Wayne #Wax #Moash #Navani

[adore-laur]

HIM

— a flashback of the moment sawyer realized she was in love with harry. his realization will be a separate part (and moment) 🩶

——

Sawyer, a devoted hopeless romantic and lover of stores intertwined with strings of fate, knew Harry was her lifelong companion in May of 1989.

In a way, she felt guilty about it. She was already in a relationship with Jordan, a man she settled for and could be comfortably mundane around. There weren't fireworks shooting off in her heart every time she was with her boyfriend, but she was enticed by his mellow demeanor and how he bragged about her beauty to his friends. At the end of the day, she was loyal to him over everyone else until a puppeteer called Fate played with the strings of Sawyer's life path and made things a bit complicated.

Enter: Harry. There was no need to retell the tale of how fate had brought the two of them together in the form of a volleyball. That day had just been the beginning of Sawyer's world tipping on its axis because with someone like Harry—charming, chivalrous, and exuberant—the more time she spent with him, the harder it became to vanquish certain feelings.

After almost two years of friendship, Sawyer began to experience funny little pulses of attraction toward him. They started in her heart—if he had simply walked into a room, hugged her hello, or smiled in her direction, it was as if someone was rapidly poking her heart while chanting, him, him, him. Then, her gut joined the party. Giddy flutters and delicious swirls of temptation danced around whenever Harry touched her. Ever the gentleman, the touches were always innocent—a heavy palm on her shoulder, a teasing noogie on the top of her head, and sometimes a comforting kiss on her cheek when their otherwise lighthearted conversations turned serious.

It became dangerous when those sensations traveled even lower. When Sawyer started to feel pulses in places that should never be elicited by a friend, she knew she had to draw a boundary line and slap herself upside the head.

Yet in those vulnerable moments, a problematic thought circled her brain. Could she possibly be in love with two people at the same time? Was what she felt with Jordan even considered love? He never called her on the landline and talked to her for hours like Harry did. He never surprised her with trips to the mall or a movie night. Rarely asked her questions about herself. Had her idea of true love been skewed all along? Or was she a terrible person for liking Harry more than anyone else?

A single day in May had given her clarity. It all started with a sprained ankle and an almost-kiss in a hospital bed.

——

Sawyer was beginning to believe playing volleyball on Cocoa Beach was a cursed activity. Something always went awry when she stepped foot on the silky sand and ducked under the net to get in her designated setter position.

Maybe it was because the usual participants forwent the standard girls versus boys system and opted for teams based on nothing other than the order of arrival. It was two p.m. when Sawyer was dropped off at the beach by Harry before he headed to baseball practice. She was immediately placed on a team with four boys and one other girl around the same age. They were large men, with linebacker shoulders and bulging biceps. Probably jocks, considering how they grunted and slapped each other's butts and heads whenever they scored.

Sometime during the second round, Sawyer prepared to set the volleyball for the man beside her to spike over the net. She bent her knees and elbows while watching the ball soar a perfect path toward her. The man, without warning or team communication, flung his body into her to reach the ball first, just like any egotistical male playing a competitive game often did.

Suddenly off balance, Sawyer felt her left ankle twist in the wrong direction as the man finished his fall against her, knocking her to the ground. Their collective tumble was cushioned by soft grains of sand, but it still stunned her as the weight of a sweaty, six-foot body rolled off her.

"Sorry about that," he said, dusting his hands off and casually walking away like he hadn't body-slammed her into another dimension.

"Jerk," Sawyer mumbled. She inhaled shallow breaths and winced when she moved her ankle, the pain registering fully. The twinge was sharp, and she instantly knew she had done something to it. Or, rather, the man did. Was volleyball really that serious to him? Had he even noticed her standing there ready to assist him like the good teammate she was? Ugh, boys and their lack of spatial awareness.

The girl on her team raced over with a lifeguard following closely behind. "Are you hurt?" she asked in a Southern drawl.

Tears brimmed Sawyer's waterline. "I twisted my ankle," she said uneasily, reaching out to touch it. The skin was tender and swelling already.

The lifeguard kneeled and examined her with cerulean irises. He looked like a teenager, with lanky arms and a bright red whistle lying against his freckled chest. "Can you move it at all?"

"No," she whimpered, voice thick with fear.

"Yikes. I'll call an ambulance."

She shook her head vehemently. "That's very kind of you, but I think I'd feel more comfortable being driven by someone else." Not a total lie, but the actual reasoning behind her answer had to do with the fact that an ambulance ride was a cost she could not afford. The dent it would create in her unimpressive savings account made her nauseated.

"Sure," said the lifeguard. "Is there someone in particular we can call for you?"

Sawyer closed her eyes against the blinding sun. Harry. A rush of relief accompanied his name. She needed him. When she called, he always came. The pain would fade within a single second of basking in his sunshine.

But when Sawyer's eyes opened, logic pounded her brain and took charge. "Jordan. Um, he's my boyfriend. I'd like to speak with him myself if that's possible."

The lifeguard shrugged. "I guess we can allow that. We'll have to carry you to the community center, though."

"That's fine."

The girl and the lifeguard lifted her carefully and walked toward the little brick building by the beach's parking lot. It was quite humiliating. In a private office area, they set her down on a metal chair. There was a bureaucratic desk with paperwork, nondescript folders, one too many succulent plants, and other miscellaneous office supplies scattered on the sleek mahogany surface. Unfortunately, the room smelled like mildew and rotten banana peels. The noisy air conditioning unit rattling in the corner made it waft around rather unpleasantly.

After offering her an ice pack and pointing at an outdated telephone system, the lifeguard lingered by the door. "You can hang in here until you get picked up." He smiled awkwardly. "Hope you feel better."

"Thanks."

The girl beside him cleared her throat and said, "The guy who knocked you down is my brother. I'll make sure to kick his ass later."

Sawyer only managed to laugh weakly before they both left, the creaky door shutting behind them.

With an exaggerated groan, Sawyer picked up the phone and dialed Jordan's number. Hopefully, he had his Motorola on him, but an awful part of her secretly wished he wouldn't answer. She hoped she would have no choice but to try her second option. God, she hoped Harry would barge into the room, demand who caused her such pain, and then kiss her ankle better. And then he would kiss—

"Sawyerrrrr. Why're you bugging me?" The slurred greeting obnoxiously sounded against her ear. Lively chatter was heard in the background, and a phantom smell of beer made her crinkle her nose. She had encouraged him to hang out with his friends from college. Apparently, day drinking was their idea of fun. Jordan had asked her if she wanted to come with, but she said she would rather be outside soaking up the May sun than inside a dark, stuffy bar. He didn't seem to care.

"Hey, Jordan. Are you able to pick me up from Cocoa Beach?"

"What, right now? I'm not even in Orlando, babe."

Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, she asked, "Where are you?"

"Uh, I think we're in..." he trailed off before yelling, "Yo, Tanner! Where are we?" A few seconds of deep, unintelligible voices boomed before he said, "We're in Zellwood."

Great. He was over thirty minutes away. There was absolutely no way he would drive back to Orlando through early summer traffic. Plus, he sounded hammered. Double whammy.

"Okay," Sawyer whispered, knowing her voice would crack if she spoke any louder. "Never mind. Have fun."

Jordan tutted. "You miss me, dollface? Is that why you're calling?"

"You caught me," she lied, trying her best to sound lovesick. "But I'll see you tonight, right?"

"Maybe," he said distractedly. "We might go to Daniel's party later and crash at his place."

She racked her brain for any recollection of Daniel. Nope, nothing. "Sure, that's cool with me."

"Good," he replied like her answer was the only one he would accept. "We're starting another round of beer pong, so I gotta bounce."

If Sawyer mentioned her ankle, there would be a pointless argument about the situation. She could predict it: You have to pay attention to your surroundings, Sawyer. Don't let men push you around, Sawyer.

So, she didn't. Slouching in the rigid chair, she released a long, anxious breath and said, "Bye, J."

"Adios!"

She rammed the phone into the cradle and pressed the heels of her palms against her forehead. She glared at the square buttons, her eyes darting around the numbers in the order of a phone number she knew by heart. There was no way she would bother him. There had to be another option, but regrettably, her parents worked an hour outside the city and she honestly couldn't remember any of her friend's numbers off the top of her head.

Her ankle throbbed with agonizing heat, the increased blood flow circulating there with a heavy pressure. Whimpering, she quickly picked up the phone again and pressed the ten digits. She had false hope that Harry would answer, considering he was occupied with practice and most likely didn't have his bag phone near him.

As Sawyer twisted the spiral cord around her pointer finger, the line rang monotonously. Three times, four times, five... When an automated voice directed her to leave a voicemail, she felt tears fall to her chin. She just wanted to go home, shower, crawl under cold sheets, and curl up next to Harry while he iced her ankle and played with her hair until she fell asleep in his embrace.

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered to herself. The last resort was calling for an ambulance, but she really didn't want to sit in the back of a scary vehicle surrounded by strangers.

In a sudden moment of desperation, Sawyer searched the room for a phone book, all while hopping on one foot. After opening and shutting several filing cabinet drawers, she finally found one and flipped through the thin yellow pages until she landed on the "T" section. Her gaze slid down the directory before stopping at Tinker Field.

She dialed the venue's number and patiently waited while sitting down again, the cool metal of the chair washing over the back of her thighs. She was still in her bikini, and she was getting sand all over the floor. She was a hot mess.

"Hello, this is Kathy at the Tinker Field Ticket Office," said a cheerful voice on the other line. "How may I help you today?"

"Hi, my name is Sawyer Clemente. I was wondering if you could get Harry Styles on the phone, please? He pitches for the SunRays, and he's at practice right now on the field. He's my friend and... I'm having a little emergency. I need his help."

"Oh dear," Kathy replied with genuine concern. "Well, the team is quite busy practicing, but I can try my best to reach him. I can give you a call back and let you know. You said your name is Sawyer?"

"Yes. But if he's too busy, don't bother." She looked down at her ankle, grateful it still had all its bone intact. "Tell him it's not a matter of life or death."

"No problem, sweetheart. I'm going to put you on hold and then get back to you shortly."

"Thank you so much." Insufferable hold music played, adding more misery to the pain in her ankle. The skin was even more swollen, and a purple bruise stained her protruded ankle bone. The ice pack was barely numbing it.

Sawyer thought back to when her volleyball serve had knocked Harry to the ground two years ago. She had been so worried, but he took it like a champ and dazzled her with the brightest smile she had ever seen. He had made her blush within five minutes of meeting him—it was an effect he had on every woman, but he always brushed their attention off like an insignificant piece of lint. No one could quite capture his attention for long enough, and she was unsure why he had chosen to stick with her in particular.

While Harry was easily distracted by the world around him, Sawyer never had to beg for his attention. Whenever they were together, he devoted his time and energy to their plans—relaxing beach days, goofing around at an arcade, cracking up over episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway? and relishing whatever other random activities Harry hatched in that spontaneous brain of his.

Jordan, on the other end of the personality spectrum, was too busy with work or partying to spend much one-on-one time with her. When they did, she was usually dragged along to some unfamiliar bar or frat house filled with strangers who reeked of alcohol. Despite being jaded by all the tagalongs, she dealt with it because it made Jordan happy. And, in a twisted way, it meant she could see Harry the following day while Jordan recovered from a hangover that left him bedridden and chronically cranky.

Debilitating guilt consumed her whenever she compared the two men. There was a clear difference between the two—boyfriend and boy friend. If the line began to blur, she would have to...

Her cerebral spiral was thwarted when the hold music abruptly stopped mid-saxophone solo. Kathy's kind voice returned. "All right, I have your friend here on the—" Muffled static interfered, causing Sawyer to perk up in concern.

"Sawyer?" Harry interrupted, out of breath and panicked. "What's going on, angel? Tell me what's the matter."

Her face crumpled with sweet relief. Hearing her favorite voice made more pathetic tears trail down her cheeks as she said, "When I was playing volleyball, some guy bumped into me and knocked me over. I'm pretty sure I sprained my ankle." She combed her fingers through her frizzy, sun-warmed hair, finally able to breathe a little easier. "I need someone to drive me to the hospital." And the universe wants it to be you.

"Fuck, okay," he said frantically. "Where are you? I'll come and get you right now."

She sniffled. "Aren't you tied up with practice?"

"Sawyer, where are you?" he repeated more firmly. Her attempt at being reasonable died a quick death.

"Um, you know that dingy community center right on Cocoa Beach? I'm in an office room there."

"Isn't that place haunted?" he asked. Sawyer could picture him sweaty, tanned, and tired from practicing in the humid Florida air. "Whatever, doesn't matter. I'll be there in ten. Hang tight."

"Harry—" The line went dead, and Sawyer blankly stared at the wall covered with flyers and corkboards. As much as she felt culpable for stealing him from a cardinal moment in his new career, a small, grateful smile tugged at her lips.

Deep in her soul, she had known he would drop everything for her. He always did.

——

The door opened, revealing a curly head of hair and gentle, curious eyes the shade of sage in bloom. Harry slowly walked into the room and assessed her predicament. He wore a baseball uniform she hadn't seen him in yet—he had been recently drafted to the rebranded Orlando minor league team. Blue and white striped pants with a jersey of similar colors tucked into the waistband caught Sawyer's attention first. The garments hugged his frame well. The body he maintained when he was nineteen had changed slightly. Thicker biceps strained against the sleeves of any shirt he wore due to strength training. Same with his thighs...

Get a grip! She mentally scolded herself before her imagination dived into treacherous waters.

"Sawyer," Harry whispered, solace rasping his voice. "Where's your towel? Aren't you freezing in here?"

She had been so stressed that the constant goosebumps rising across her skin went completely unnoticed by her. "I don't know," she whined. "Just get me out of here, please."

Harry reached his hand around the back of his neck and tugged his shirt off. Sawyer almost gasped but was relieved when she saw he had a white tank top underneath. She went to grab it, realizing her nipples were noticeably pebbled, but Harry insisted on pulling it over her head.

"Sorry it smells grody," he said, "but I'm not letting you enter the hospital in just a bikini."

"It's okay. It smells better than whatever died in this room."

Harry grinned at her, his eyes borderline sparkling like a cartoon character. He laughed quietly before giving her a noogie and crouching to look at her ankle. "Looks like someone took volleyball a little too seriously."

"It wasn't me," she said defensively. "You should've seen the dude—he was massive."

"Well, then you're lucky he didn't break twenty of your bones." His expression turned serious. "Kathy had me worried when she said you were having an emergency."

"What did you think happened?"

"Well, my first instinct was that you left your curling iron plugged in and your house went up in flames."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But you getting hurt is somehow worse."

Sawyer pouted her lips, and Harry's rapt gaze briefly locked on them. Before she could figure out why her heart fluttered at the subtle motion, he lifted her in his arms bridal style and carried her out the door without warning. His shirt draped down to her knees as she rested her cheek against the beautiful column of his neck, breathing in his natural masculine scent. Summer. Pines. Home. Instantly, a sense of safety covered her like a treasured childhood blanket.

Before long, she was gently set in the passenger seat of Harry's Audi. He got behind the wheel and patted his lap. "You need to elevate your ankle," he said while starting the engine.

She awkwardly shifted and lay her ankle on his sturdy thigh. He repositioned the ice pack, which was stolen property now, and steadily looked over at her. "You okay?" he asked, his smooth palm curving around her shin.

She blinked back tears and murmured, "Yes. Thank you for getting me. I'm sorry for cutting your practice short, but I tried calling..." She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head dismissively.

"Who did you try calling?"

Sighing, Sawyer peered out the open window and watched the glimmering teal ocean become more distant. "Jordan, but he was busy."

A stretch of silence hung thickly in the car. Sawyer distracted herself by grabbing the small bag of chips in the console and ripping it open. Harry always kept food stored in his car for both him and her. She munched on a few, waiting for a snide response. Jordan was always a sore subject, which was why she often refrained from bringing up his wrongdoings. Too late now.

"Yeah? Busy doing what?" Harry flipped the sun visor down, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "Being too much of an asshole to care that his girlfriend is injured?" He muttered the last part bitterly, probably hoping the wind would carry his words away and sock Jordan right in the jaw.

"No, he... I told him he could hang out with his college friends today, so he's been bar-hopping since noon." Sawyer groaned, realizing defending him wasn't helping her case. "He's drunk, okay?"

And Harry left in the middle of his first minor league practice for you, she thought to herself. He was the one you thought of first when the lifeguard asked who to call.

Harry looked about two seconds away from blowing a gasket as his hand squeezed the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. "Interesting," he said in a flat tone that pushed her over the edge.

"Don't even start. Jordan had a valid excuse."

"Sure, but he didn't want to go to the beach with you? Why would he pass that up?"

"Stop." A burst of anger flared in her chest. 

"No, please tell me why your boyfriend chose to spend another one of his days off at a bar instead of with you. Entertain me, Sawyer. Is there something I'm missing? Because—"

"Knock it off!" Overwhelming emotions tightened her throat, and she took a moment to regain control of them. "You're better off pretending he doesn't exist when we're together."

Harry pressed on the brakes roughly, and Sawyer thought he was going to pull over. He eventually accelerated to the speed limit again with nothing but a clenched jaw and a cold demeanor. She hadn't meant to dim his sunshine.

After a minute passed, he said, "Don't put that thought in my head" before turning on the radio.

The rest of the drive to the hospital was as tense as her sprained ligaments.

——

In the hospital bed, Sawyer drifted in and out of consciousness. The nurse had taken X-rays and wrapped her ankle with an elasticized bandage. The good news was that it was only a minor sprain with no tearing. A couple of weeks of resting and icing the area would help her fully recover.

Her ankle was propped on a stack of three pillows with a cold compress lying dormant on it. She was allowed to be discharged after fifteen more minutes of ice treatment. In the corner of the room, a TV played an NBA game. The early evening sky was gloomy past the large windows—they were designed not to be opened, leaving her to inhale stuffy and sterile air.

Harry was sitting in a chair butted up right beside the bed with a metaphorical storm cloud looming above his head. The brief argument in the car had escalated far beyond normal. The discomfort she was in had caused her to get defensive. Harry, though, got accusatory for whatever reason. There was just something about Jordan that rubbed him the wrong way.

Sawyer would have felt weird gossiping about boyfriend problems with Harry—that was more reserved for girl talk. But time and time again, Jordan's name managed to slip into their conversations with no precedent. She was a failing mediator, and she hated feeling like the referee of an endless tug-of-war match, each boy vying for her heart. Platonic versus romantic, of course. No winner would be crowned.

"Harry," Sawyer said, "are you mad at me?"

His eyes tracked the fast-paced basketball game on the small TV screen. "No," he said mildly.

"Okay." She twiddled her thumbs and sighed loudly on purpose. "Can we go home now?"

"No." The restless bounce of his leg contradicted his supposed nonchalance. "Ten more minutes."

"Can I try to change your mind?"

"No."

Sawyer huffed and squirmed on the rock-hard mattress, dearly missing her comfy twin bed with its puffy pink duvet. "Can I have a hug?" she asked, softening her voice.

Harry finally glanced over at her, albeit suspiciously. "Do you really need one? Are you going to use your brown-eye sorcery to persuade me?"

She stretched his shirt over her bare knees and rested her chin between them. Purposefully widening her eyes, she said, "Yes to both."

He hummed, stood, and invaded her space with a warmth that temporarily soothed her pain. His arms wrapped around her as he snuggled close on the one-person bed. "Better?"

"Much." Sawyer placed her head on his shoulder and asked, "How was practice?"

"The whole hour I was there?" he replied teasingly. Sawyer grumbled in good nature, and he laughed fondly. "I'm kidding—it was great. I felt right at home."

"I'm proud of you, sunray."

Brows furrowed, Harry smiled down at her. Those lovely dimples begged to be kissed. "Sunray? That's a first."

A bashful blush heated her cheeks. Sometimes she said things around him without thinking about their implications. "Well, you play for the SunRays now," she said quietly, her nose mere centimeters from his. "And... and because you make the dreary days a lot brighter."

Harry's lips parted, but no sound poured past them. Riveted eyes danced over her face—his pupils were dilated like a drop of black ink in water. "You're my best friend," he said, absentmindedly rubbing a golden strand of her hair between his fingers. "I would do anything for you."

But would you kiss me if I asked you to?

Sawyer slid her palm up his chest and cupped his stubbled jaw. Their calm breaths mingled, and she let the sweet scent of bubblegum swirl around her hazy mind. She was sleepy, and her desire to capture and caress his pillowy bottom lip wasn't making any sense. Strange feelings blossomed in her stomach when she looked at him, a wild garden of serenity, obsession, and... love. But not the love she usually felt for him. This was a revelation made known by her rapid heartbeat and his strong, familiar body pressed against her.

The pad of her thumb pressed against the corner of his pretty mouth. One inch forward, and she could change the course of her life. What sensual sounds would he make? Would he sigh into the kiss, knowing it was wrong, or would he inhale her soul and ruin everyone else for her? Even entertaining her fantasies felt like cheating. They were just silly thoughts elicited by exhaustion and pain medication. She would never gamble with someone's heart.

"Sawyer, I—"

"Miss Clemente? You're all set to go home now." A nurse appeared in the room, unknowingly interrupting their private moment.

Inhaling a tiny gasp, Sawyer decided to kiss Harry's cheek to eliminate any awkwardness—she made it seem like that had been her plan all along. Just a chaste, friendly kiss on the cheek with no romantic intentions behind it at all. Only a rousing physical response when she pulled away that she would suppress like every other time she touched him.

When Harry carried her to his car again, she stared at his hand holding her thighs up with a tight, protective grip. He took care of her without needing a reason to. He made her forget about the pain just by gracing her with his lucent presence. He was doing every tender thing her boyfriend should have done.

Sawyer yearned for Harry, and while exhilaration ignited in her veins at the fact, she knew she was in deep trouble.

It was him she was in love with.

——

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry and sawyer #adore-laur

[betweenbreaths]

Hii, if you're still open to the request from the NSFW prompt (your rafayel fic straight up murdered me btw), can I request #3 “Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.” for Zayne please? He always strike me as an intense dom and I can totally see him saying this 🫣🫣

Thanks anon you're so sweet!! ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this one, Zayne is surprisingly a strong contender for my favorite in this game now (I'm not sure why or how, I hated him at the start) so I had a blast with this prompt.

Hope you like it! ☃️

(P.S. for anyone else who might be interested, I'm accepting requests from this list of R18 prompts. Request guidelines are here as well. 😉)

+++++++

It’s not the first time you’ve tested Zayne’s patience. You’ve been late for your appointments numerous times now, with the occasional rain check in favour of dangerous missions that he would vehemently disapprove of. You've even left the hospital without your meds before, once sneaking out of your room after being admitted for observation, all because you couldn't wait two more days to be discharged.

All in all, you’re not one of his more well-behaved patients, and Zayne never fails to remind you of that fact.

Still, the strict doctor lets your transgressions pass each time with nothing more than a displeased glare and a concise scolding. Despite his icy demeanour, you know that deep down, Zayne is just a big ol’ softie who likes to geek out on medical textbooks, make snow-shaped animals with his Evol and stare longingly at stray cats passing by on the street.

He's a man who's all bark, and no bite.

...Which is why when he bares his teeth for the first time, you're not sure what to do with yourself.

You're at a loss in this position: lying naked on the couch in a certain doctor's office, arms hooked under your knees to spread yourself wide open for your audience of one to appreciate up close.

You're not sure how things escalated like this; you had just come in for a routine check-up with Zayne, only for it to be interrupted three minutes in by a wanderer attack at the opposite wing in the hospital.

Of course, you had headed down immediately to deal with the situation, although not unscathed; you had been a little careless that evening and wound up with a long gash across your forearm and a number of bruises after falling back hard against the concrete floor. Still, the situation was handled with no casualties or any civilians being injured, so that was a win in your book.

Evidently, it wasn't the case for someone else.

When you returned to his office, Zayne had been anything but pleased. In fact, he looked vexed, although he had said nothing as he pressed down hard on your arm to stop the bleeding first. In the end, most of your appointment was spent on emergency first-aid, but thankfully, you were his last patient for the day and Zayne said that your appointment would have to be extended.

The result of said extension is where you're at now; at the complete mercy of the doctor who's towering over you, eyes roaming over your body. He's looking, but not touching. Just like a starved man who's doing nothing but staring at a feast laid out before him.

You wish he'd just dig in already.

With a low whine, you attempt to release your right leg, only for him to click his lips.

"I said, don't move."

You obey his commanding tone, keeping a secure grip on your knee and staying quiet as Zayne continues his meaningless observation of your body, as if he hasn't already taken you and marked you as his before. He's more than familiar with your body by now, knowing all the right buttons to press and sweet spots to thrust into to have you craving for more.

"Zayne, please..."

"Quiet."

"It was an emergency, you couldn't expect me to sit around and do nothing while other people got hurt."

"Will you keep talking?"

"Will you keep staring?"

"Should I?"

"No, you should come here and touch me, since you already have me spread like peanut butter on your couch."

He holds your gaze for a few seconds, and you return it evenly, hoping that'll be enough to convince him to finally fuck you.

It's not.

"And I want you to take better care of yourself, but we can't have it all, can we?"

Zayne can be a real bitch when he wants to be, and it seems tonight is one of those nights for him. Still, a pang of guilt hits you. You know he's not mad about you doing your job; he's come to accept that your line of work is dangerous and that you'll stick to this even if it means dying in the line of duty.

What he hates, however, is seeing you injured and not being able to do anything about it. And you can't say you wouldn't feel the same in his shoes.

With a sigh, you relent and soften your tone.

"Okay, okay. How can I make it up to you?"

There's a moment of silence, before it's broken by his crisp, approaching footsteps. Each one is louder than your heartbeat that's drumming in your ears.

"Don't move."

He drops to his knees on the floor, hands roaming over the exposed skin of your upper thigh and pulling your moist folds closer to his lips. You keep a firm grip on your knees as he does so, whimpering in delight at his touch. Zayne has barely started, and already you find yourself having to bite down on your lower lip to hold back a moan as your mind runs wild, imagining him sinking his lips into you, tongue tracing circles around your clit and having you come apart with just his mouth.

You feel his warm breath fan over your slit, and the gasp that leaves you comes out broken. At least you won't have to wait long; it seems you'll be getting off easy tonight.

Quietly, you watch as he studies your dripping cunt before his hard gaze falls on you again, boring into your lust-filled eyes.

"Move an inch, and you won't be coming tonight."

You barely have time to register what he says, before he dips his head down, tongue sliding up from the base of your slit to meet your clit.

Involuntarily, your hips jut up, lips parting as a loud moan leaves you at the spark of pleasure that shoots up your body.

Immediately and true to his word, his tongue is gone, and you're left feeling nothing but cool air against your center once more.

When you look down with a noise of protest, all you see is Zayne smirking at you with his now moist, pink lips.

A sense of foreboding hits you; it's never a good sign when he smirks like that.

"That was strike one. Three strikes, and we're done here."

...You're so fucked.

#asks #Anonymous #love and deepspace #lnds #lds #love and deepspace zayne #my writing

[kicktwine]

snot in my nose

#augh #no I don’t feel good letting the twins go in front of so many things I think im putting them Back At Camp. you two #don’t ever enter a room first. if anything let me enter all rooms first. I can take it #and then later we can go to like. Thavnair again but this time for vacation #just for now let someone else do the dangerous thing #please don’t walk in on him first. please #let estinien #aurgh…. the nature of humanity………. What if I cried again. Snot in my nose #I immediately teared up THERES MUCUS #play game #endwalker spoilers

[byanyan]

byan getting into stick & poke tattoos so they can continue adding to their tattoo collection without having to save up money to do so

#yes they'll just do their own tattoos why not #they've got a pretty good artistic hand tbh they'd turn out pretty well #definitely still some places they'd like to get tattoos that'll require someone else doing them but #this way they can do some on a whim #...which definitely means they end up with at least one really dumb one they did while they were drunk #anyway. just a new thought that came to me today and I was immediately like 'how did I not think of this sooner????' #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ HEADCANON ⋮ DANGER IN THE FABRIC OF THIS THING I MADE.

[revelmaven]

.

#im fucking tired of having to be a perfect example all the time #having to be perfectly behaved and pleasant and kind and reasonable #while everyone else is permitted to do anythign they want to me #im so angry #i am SO angry that im not allowed to show that i'm autistic and i'm not allowed to need accomodations and i dont get to be taken seriously #but entitled rude people can come to my place of work and scream in my face and tell me im worthless and get away with it #ESPECIALLY when they claim to be neurodivergent and so that should excuse it #nothing excuses you being an asshole. you CHOOSE how you act. your conduct is YOUR responsibility not something you can palm off #and accept no responsibility for #sorry man ive been autistic my whole life and it's never caused me to tell someone to fuck themselves bc i didnt want to use manners #ive been autistic my whole life and never demanded to be allowed to do whatever i want with no restrictions because im special #like fun fact its almost like being neurodivergent isnt a catch-all free card to be an abusive asshole #crazy that #im genuinely so angry about this i hate it #i hate that im the only one who has to behave #that i DO that i CAN control myself even to the point where i dont even Raise My Fucking Voice at these assholes #and somehow it's still my fault when they don't want to be told what to do #i can't take people's entitled aggressive dangerous fucking attidues anymore im going to fucking snap #and i swear to god i seem to be the only person in the immediate situation who thinks it's remotely serious #i am NOT okay #im fucking terrified for my safety and im furious and im going to fucking snap #i can't take it anymore #i can't take these customers lying through their fucking teeth and humiliating me for fun #this is fucking insane how is anyone supposed to live with this? #anyway if u know me irl etc etc #trauma files #vent #ignore

[featherymainffins]

One thing about me is I don't understand why people say that you should never try even one cigarette because they all got addicted after one. I had the worst fucking nightmare experience with my first cigarette you couldn't pay me to smoke one of these again.

#like my friend always offers everyone cigarettes and i had always declined but one time i decided to try it because i was #feeling suicidal and went 'you know what yeah whatever. maybe this will fix me' so i accepted. and it was absolutely fucking horrible #like i felt the strongest most intense sense of impending doom I've ever felt in my life and I've had quite a lot of panic attacks #and i felt like there was danger everywhere and i needed to run away immediately. i also felt very unpleasant tension in my body #like physically not psychically. i had to start grinding my teeth hard as fuck and flexing all my muscles to at least prevent #myself from actually running around the block. Which i didn't want to do because it would have been weird and also it was 3 am #but yeah 0/10 stars sucked about as much as eating boiled and dried fly agaric. #actually this sucked more because while i technically had this cigarette for free you do pay for cigarettes. whereas if you want fly agaric #you just visit the woods. and you can sell fly agaric. probably. and it's tasty. #which reminds me that if i boil the dried ones i have again and then one more time and then dry them again they should actually #be a better experience. i mean. not for me because the 'desired' effects are literally just me when I'm dissociating. #but like if someone else wanted to try it wouldn't make them nauseous anymore. which is good. #if you boil it just once and dry you will get nauseous. but the book i have didn't state that if you boil them several times over #it shouldn't happen anymore. it treated the nausea as an inevitability.