#but even then it's a little touched by something very resentful and sad

[katierosefun]

no because this messed me up a little bit

#caroline watches kdrama #the glory #still thinking about this scene. wanting to lie down on the floor now #'those moments when you're allowed to like someone' JESUS CHRIST #thinking so much about how dong eun tries really hard not to smile or laugh at anything #because smiling or laughing at something would mean she'd get distracted from her main goal #and the way that she's laughing and smiling in this scene #but even then it's a little touched by something very resentful and sad #GOD.

[emmitaaa4]

“A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.”

I'm tearing up. The comment below is how Azriel would speak of Elain when xyz happens and he lets his heart pour out (and I have the evidence of course).

She doesn’t like change and loves to love the world around her.

“Beautiful.” / “After all of this, the world needs more gardens.”

“In celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

She loves so hard she hurts herself at times and doesn't let me pick up the pieces, even though I always do it anyway.

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today--that love would trump even a mating bond.

(...)

Azriel carried Elain down, my sister silent and unresponsive in his arms. (...) Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm (...) and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

"What if" - I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden. “That is what she needs?

“I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else."

“Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body.”

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose.

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” / It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. / Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding had freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

“What about Elain?” / “I’m getting her back” “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” 

Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (...) Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

 

He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” (...) I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

 “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. (...) Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. (...) earning a grateful smile from Elain. (...) the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” (...) A fight with Nesta. don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

“We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation.

She’s stubborn like a mule but as delicate as a flower, always sad but never beaten.

“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of how we meet the consequences.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those same smiles before, on my own damn face. / Elain, it seemed, was as sleepless as me.

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever? You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to live a small, quiet life, while refusing to let me do anything greater.”

I love the way she understand what I'm trying to say without needing to hear me say it, when I can't seem to formulate anything at all.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly.

He left the rest unspoken. (…) Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

"Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

She's probably the best thing that's happened to me.

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” (...) Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room.

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that (...) she understood why he stood near the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

There she was. The faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

A headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the HoW. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. (...) Elain's mouth twitched into a smile (...) He offered a smile back.

His head went quiet.

There is lust. There is tension. But there is also so much more.

#my loves #wrote this with lana playing im not okay #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #pro azriel #acowar #acofas #acosf

[shunsuiken]

Imagine when everyone is sitting on the sofas with the creator and the traveler and Xiao are fighting over who sits next to the creator, so the creator asks them to do rock paper scissors to decide, but the creator prevents the person who won from sitting on your side and let the person who lost sit on your side, the person who won the breeder sits on your lap ^^ (big text.) 👺

OOOOH OKAYY OKAAAYY I LIKE THIS

tags. sagau+ gn!creator!reader + u mentioned ‘traveler’ so u guys can just imagine either aether or lumine in this, whatever fits ur preference the most + fluff + some crack lmao + pretty xiao biased + some xiao x reader towards the end bc i can’t help it 🫶🏼

everyone’s minding their own business, conversing amongst each other in the living room. you lean on the armrest, your free hand holds a book, eyes only scanning over the pages because your thoughts are occupied by something else. you purse your lips, closing your eyes in exasperation.

the traveler and xiao have been glaring at each other for who knows how long. at this point it’s becoming a little ridiculous that none of them have yielded—or even just expressed what they had in mind (which was to clearly be the one sitting next to you). and you’re not very fond of your acolytes resenting each other for things like this. if they want something—just say it! you are their creator. there is nothing in this world you cannot do.

“how about a game of rock, paper, scissors?” you suggest, opening your eyes to exchange gazes with the traveler and xiao. “maybe if you both can relax the tense air radiating off of you, i will grant you what you want.”

now this gets the two of them going. childe even butts in to be a human-scoreboard. then the game begins. but for some unknown reason, xiao is… winning? you try not to display the confusion on your face as you watch the scene unfold in front of you. you must say, it is rather amusing to catch the traveler so flustered and bewildered by the hidden skill of the guardian yaksha.

eventually, after five rounds, xiao wins three while the traveler won two.

childe whistles dramatically at the result, looking at you to announce the winner. “your grace, the conqueror of demons won!”

“excellent work,” you comment, before patting the spot beside you. “take your place now, traveler.”

xiao’s heart drops. it’s like he was just smacked in the face. but he continues to look forward, masking his disappointment with a blank expression. he should have known this would happen.

on the other hand, the traveler’s previously saddened eyes light up immediately at your words. their chest blooms in warmth at the unexpected turn of events. they leave their seat to sit next to you as you offer your arm for them to wrap theirs around. the traveler obliges in milliseconds, a blush dusting across their cheeks at the physical touch.

you turn your gaze. “xiao,” you call. he looks up at you, a blank stare to the normal eye but to you, you see an amber storm of disappointment and sadness swirling within it. as expected of the creator of teyvat, nothing goes unnoticed by you.

“yes, your grace?”

nothing prepares anyone for the words you say next.

“sit on my lap.”

someone in the background chokes on his wine, a cup of tea shatters and the temperature of the room has somehow also risen. you silently neutralise the elemental energy in the air, hehe, these boys sure know how to get jealous.

xiao blinks owlishly at you, unable to process the words you spoke. he shifts in his seat. awkwardly holding his stare with you until you beckon him to come closer with a small laugh.

“i’m not going to bite you, now come here, xiao.” you smile at him and only then does he hesitantly trudge his way over to you.

you adjust yourself on the couch, asking the traveler beside you if they are comfortable in a hushed voice and when they gave you a quick nod of the head, you prepare your lap to receive xiao.

the yaksha’s skin grows cold with every step he takes towards your sitting figure. sweat forms on his back as he spins on his heel to lower himself on your lap but then some weird excuse of a yelp leaves his lips when your free arm snakes around his waist to pull him down onto you.

pink covers his skin and his toes go cold. what are you doing?! he wants to ask, but the lump in his throat doesn’t let him. with pursed lips, he keeps his hands neatly on his own lap, nails nearly scratching through his pants as stares laser beams into the wooden floor.

the tense figure on top of your lap makes you giggle, raising your hand to tilt his chin towards you. “dearest, why have you turned to stone?” you tease and xiao turns into this even more impossible shade of red that even the traveler gapes in shock. you can only imagine everyone else’s reactions.

“your grace… is very generous,” xiao manages to murmur after one successful attempt of clinging to his string of sanity.

you place a hand on his shoulder blade, your touch lighting up the goosebumps on his pale skin. before you reply, you place a chaste kiss on his nape, making xiao snap his back straight up in surprise at the gesture of affection he’s still unaccustomed to.

xiao’s knuckles turn white. “y- your grace?!” he stammers out, amber eyes the size of saucers meeting yours—excitement, relief, shyness—it’s written all across his face. this is probably the most expressive he’s ever looked in front of you too!

you grin, a twinkle of mischief shines in your eyes. “now, now don’t act like you weren’t expecting this…” you continue to tease him, watching him squirm on your lap so adorably.

#xiao x reader #sagau x reader #xiao fluff #genshin sagau #sagau xiao #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #my love for xiao is really showing in this one

[calmcoldevening]

hi love! hope you’re doing well, can you write a fanfic of eric draven surprising the reader with a new cat? that’s be so sweet ty 😭❤️

Eric Draven x reader [🐈]

Hey there, kitten! I'm sorry for it took for so long, but I was whole in my school work. So now make yourself a cup of warm tea and enjoy this little story.

I wrote it as fem!reader, but if it's necessary I can change it :)

• You were usually happy and cheerful, a tender relationship with Eric brought a really incredible and good experience into your life, you literally blossomed like a spring flower.

• But lately you've been a little depressed and sad. Eric was very upset by this. Not only did you withdraw into yourself, but you also moved away from him significantly, which caused a painful feeling of heaviness in the guy's heart. That's why he tried his best to cheer you up.

• At first, it was some little things like your favorite sweets or some cool things. He even gave you flowers a couple of times. But your longing did not go away, and you still did not respond to his attempts to show affection.

• Eric thought that your behavior was caused by the fact that he often stayed at work for a long time or worked with his musical group for a long time. Perhaps you resented him because of the feeling of loneliness. Eric couldn't blame you for that. After all, your old cat has grown up a long time ago and spent most of his time outside or somewhere in a remote part of the house. That's why he decided to surprise you.

• It was a particularly cloudy day, as is usually the case on Halloween eve in this city. You had recently cooked dinner, so now you were lying quietly on the bed with the player in your hands. You didn't hear the door open. You didn't hear him enter the room. You just felt the mattress next to you crease under the guy's weight. A moment later, a gentle hand wrapped around your waist. Eric leaned closer to your face, kissing your temple and accidentally (or not) hitting the earphone. Now your earphone has quickly rolled down your chest, falling onto the bedspread.

• "I have something for you, my rose," Eric whispers with a smile, gently rubbing his nose against your cheek. But you didn't react in any way, trying to focus on the music. "Come on, baby. He will be sad if he doesn't see his new mommy." This phrase has already strained you enough to spark your curiosity. Eric chuckled softly, watching your reaction.

• You sat on the bed waiting for this. You were biting your lip in impatience and twisting your fingers. Finally Eric came back from somewhere with a small purple box. The guy carefully placed her on the bed in front of you, sitting down next to her. You awkwardly reach for the box, slowly opening the lid. There was a sharp meow from there, and immediately after that a little red kitten jumped into your arms. The cat began to rub gently against your stomach, trying to climb onto your arms as soon as possible to hide from this scary man.

• Eric chuckled softly. "You know, he was afraid of me from the very beginning... I'm not going to be a daddy, am I?" In response, you just smiled, picking up the kitten in your arms and stroking its soft fur. "It's a boy. I think he will be glad if you give him a name, my rose."

• Eric carefully sits closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, and with his free hand touching the kitten's small ears. Without thinking twice, the kitten slightly bit the guy's finger with its small fangs.

Now let's choose a name for this baby boy 🐈

#slashers x reader #eric draven x reader #eric draven #eric draven x you #eric draven headcanons

[disaster-twins-incorrect-quotes]

Some More Disaster Twins Headcannons (Happy and Sad):

___________________________

-●- Leo and Donnie will sometimes walk into the other twin's room, make direct eye contact with each other, knock something over, insult them, and then leave.

-●- When one of them comes home, they will greet each other with variations of "Sup fucker", "Hey piss baby", "Lol wussup loser", "I'm home dipfuck", etc.

-●- They both know decent Spanish, but mainly use it just to bully each other and swear without getting caught.

-●- Leo loves sweets, but sometimes Donnie can't handle them very well. So if Donnie starts to get sick from whatever sweet he is eating, he just hands the rest of it to Leo, who gladly takes it and eats the rest.

-●- Both twins are heavy sleepers, to the point where you have to violently shake or yell at Leo to get him fully up and you have to double check that Donnie actually awake and not just talking in his sleep.

-●- One of the twins will say "floor time", which means it is mandatory for both twins to lay on the floor and vibe for a while.

-●- Leo will open up a container of mints and immediately Donnie will look up at him and stick his hand out for one. It's become a game for Leo to see if he can get a mint without Donnie noticing. He has never won this game. Sometimes Donnie will even emerge from another room. It's a little spooky-

-●- They did and still do matching costumes for Halloween. They've done things like an angel and devil, a witch and a black cat, horror movie killers, etc. Sometimes they suck Mikey and Raph into their plans as well. Also both twins are horror movie junkies and like to discuss how stupid some of the victims are in the movies.

-●- Donnie likes to use insults that consist of "(insert word ending in '-inkle') + fuck". Examples of this are "dinklefuck", "kinklefuck", crinklefuck", etc. Leo does not and will never understand this.

-●- Leo and Donnie are both medics in the family. All of the family knows first aid and basic life support, but Donie and Leo both know critical life support. I like to think Leo learned this from Donnie on the occasion that Donnie is down for the count and someone is severely injured.

-●- Donnie thrives with biology and mathematics, but he absolutely despises anatomy because of the sheer memorization. Surprisingly, Leo thrives with anatomy- which annoys Donnie.

The Sad Ones:

----------------------------

-●- Growing up, the twins were often pitted against each other (intentionally and unintentionally). This caused resentment when they were younger, and still some now, because it was a constant battle of "Why does Donnie do this better than you?" and "How come Leo can do this but you cant?"

-●- When they were younger (about ages 10-15), the twins could barely be in the same room without arguing.

-●- Donnie has had PTSD and severe depression since he was a kid, however he refuses to take medication for his mental health issues on account of a bad experience he had with them and "not trusting himself" (take that as you will). His PTSD also contributes to his reluctance to physical touch.

-●- The mere thought of Leo being smarter than Donnie in something makes Donnie very anxious. And on the other end, the thought that Donnie may be stronger at times makes Leo anxious.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise!donatello #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #chaos twins #rise!leo #rottmnt chaos twins #rottmnt leo #rottmnt incorrect quotes #disaster twins #rottmnt disaster twins #rottmnt headcanons #rise headcanons #disaster twins headcanons

[love-toxin]

knowing me, knowing you - eddie munson & steve harrington

plot: new boyfriends eddie and steve overhear jason trying to ask angelface out, and they know they have to rescue you--not just because they're your friends, but because they can't let him steal you away from them and hurt you...even if you're not theirs, yet.

cws: established steddie, hurt/comfort, throuple, tw: homophobia, derogatory use of 'queer', bullying, threats, manipulation, jason's a huge dickhead, protective steve, mild violence, confessions, jealousy, threeway mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie pov, fem reader.

word count: 2.6k

"...So we should go on a date, then. I'll take you to dinner."

Eddie sidles up quietly against the wall, risking a peek around the corner to check before he waves Steve over. Yep, Wheeler was right–there you are, leaning against the school outside with Jason fucking Carver, who cannot physically get any closer to you without it being considered a felony.

"No shit," Steve pokes his head out over his boyfriend's, whispering incredulously because Eddie knows he can't believe it either. Of course, the one person in the school that they both despise the most is making a move on you. Steve rubs Eddie's shoulder, hoping to soothe him as the two of them watch from their position of relative safety.

"Um, aren't you…aren't you and Chrissy..?" Jason shakes his head at you, but he's still smiling like he's still got it all under control.

"Nah, she…I heard she's been sleeping around. So I dumped her–girls like that aren't worth it. Not like you."

"That's not true!" Eddie whispers–he knows Chrissy, she's a sweet girl, and she definitely dumped him because he made one too many awful comments about her appearance. What a fucking liar. But he maybe says it a touch too loudly, because Jason's brow raises and just as he turns to look around, Steve grabs Eddie by the collar and yanks him back around the wall to hide. But once they hear you start talking again, they both slowly sneak a peek once more, knowing that Jason's eyes will be on you and you alone.

"Thank you, uh, I'm flattered, but…"

"But? Is there a but? C'mon, just one date." Such a pushy bastard, it's annoying enough to Eddie, but looking up he can see that Steve's practically got steam coming out of his ears. You fidget with your sleeve, the bag slung over your shoulder swaying as you do so while you try not to look him directly in the eye. "You're so cute when you get shy. C'mon, babe."

Oh, that "babe" is almost enough for Eddie to go fucking berserk, and he can feel that Steve is feeling the same–but they both agreed not to intervene unless it was totally necessary. They might be totally whipped for you, but they're not your babysitters and they both know that if they start acting like it, you'll just end up resenting them. Plus, the three of you are good friends right now, and you're one of the very few that doesn't think them dating is weird or somehow related to the devil, so to mess that up would result in a lot of nights moping around and watching sad movies in each other's laps that neither of them are emotionally prepared for at the moment.

"Y'know, we could even do some more stuff if you wanted…a little birdie told me that you have yet to lose something." You look scared. This is nowhere near good. Steve's hand digs into his shoulder, hard.

"Um…I-I…"

"It's okay to be inexperienced, babe. I can show you how to do it…show you how to make love. You can trust me–even if that's all you want, I'll let you use me for it." How manipulative can he be? Eddie knows there's no way you would ever do something like that, but he can also see now that Jason really just wants to get into your pants. Figures, he doesn't deserve your kindness or any part of you, so he's just scraping to get whatever he can, like a rat–and it gets worse when Jason starts touching your face, trying to get you to look at him. Steve quietly growls a "don't" from above him, kind of like a dog getting territorial. It's kinda hot, if he's being honest…focus. He has to focus.

"I'm not a virgin,"

You finally breathe, your eyes flicking up to meet the blond's whose hand is still on your chin.

"And you're not my type. Sorry." You gently push his hand away, and wait with shaky hands for him to back off. But both Eddie and Steve's anger increases when he just dips his face closer to you, almost like he's gonna kiss you–Eddie has to put a hand on Steve's chest to stop him from lunging forward, whispering a "Stevie, calm down!" quiet enough that neither you nor Jason notice while you're in your own little world.

"What do you mean by that? Explain it to me, so I can understand." His voice is low, but angry, fury simmering just below the surface like he's close to blowing up. But if he thinks he can just intimidate you into doing what he wants, then he's got another thing coming.

"What…What is there to explain? You're a bully. You're cruel. I saw what you did to Gareth's hand," Your brow furrows–god, you're so pretty when you're mad–and Eddie finds himself breathless as you raise your hand to your chest and push him, just hard enough for Jason to take a step back with an incredulous look on his face. "And you're always calling my friend a freak."

"Who, Munson? He is a freak! Why would you even want to be friends with someone like him? You're too good for that."

"No, I'm too good for you." Jason just shakes his head in disbelief, a scoff on his lips. Eddie's chest is so tight, heart beating so fast at the protectiveness in your voice as you say his name. "Eddie's my friend. He's sweet, and he would do anything for his friends. He's nothing like you–and that's why I like him."

You like him. He's on cloud nine right now, he wouldn't even notice if the world was ending. All his dreams are coming true, even if he never imagined Jason would be involved with them at all.

"You like that queer? Are you fucking serious?"

"Shut up! You're a cunt, Jason!" You shove him again, hard this time, your words spit with venom and your fists shaking with anger. But he's so proud of you for stepping away, you're so mature, and you don't even look back at him as you start walking towards the side of the building where they're hiding–until you stop suddenly, and Eddie realizes that Jason's grabbing you by the wrist to drag you back to him.

"You do not walk away from me, you understand that?!"

"Let go of me! I'm gonna tell-" Jason slaps a hand over your mouth, and yanks you close enough that your faces are only a few inches from each other. Too close.

"Who's gonna believe you?" Your eyes widen, and it is far past the last straw. Steve is shouldering past him and dashing towards the scene before Eddie even realizes he's gone from his side.

"Hey!"

With the kind of strength that befits a former high school athlete, Steve runs up and wedges himself between you two so he can shove Jason off, breaking his grip and sending him stumbling back while your friend stands protectively over you. You look a little dazed, confused, but when Eddie hustles over to take your arm in his and soothe you, it sets in that you're safe and you gladly melt into his embrace. You're so warm, and you're scared, but…he just can't help thinking about how soft you feel against his chest.

"You touch her again, and I'll make sure you regret it."

"The fuck are you doing here, Harrington?" Jason spits, flushed and clearly jumped up from getting interrupted. Eddie doesn't even want to think about what would have happened if Wheeler hadn't tipped them off, what Jason might have done to you if they weren't here–but if he somehow wasn't sure before that he always wants to be there for you, then he absolutely does now.

"Oh, y'know, hanging out. Seeing some old friends. Defending pretty girls against creepy douchebags. Whatever strikes my fancy." Jason's eyes slide over to Eddie, who feels and probably looks a lot braver with Steve in between them. He can feel you tense up against him when Steve says that, and he pulls his arms tighter around you to hug you closer. It's relieving to feel that you're comfortable with him, enough that you're clinging to his jacket and subtly nuzzling even deeper into him.

"What was that you said, again? 'Who's gonna believe you'? I think the school counselor would love to hear that. Probably would have to let the basketball coach know, though. And you can say bye bye to the rest of the season." Steve sounds so confident when he's ripping him apart, it's honestly kind of…well, it's not something you might find attractive, but Eddie certainly does, and by the awed look in your eyes he can sense that you feel the same. "Gimme a reason, dude, cause I would love to kick your ass right now."

Jason looks between all three of you, frustrated and wounded by the blow Steve's managed to deal him, but the intensity only lasts a couple seconds. Because before long, he's made his choice, and he brushes you all off and stalks away with his hands shoved in the pockets of his letterman jacket.

"Oh, Jason! Almost forgot!" Both you and Eddie are surprised to see him actually stop and turn his head when Steve calls out to him, his glare violent enough that all three of you can almost feel the holes burning through you. "You ever get near my boyfriend again, or Hellfire, or her, I'll rip you many, many new ones. You just gimme the word, big boy."

Jason says nothing, just spits, and gives all three of you the finger which Steve gladly returns before he turns and disappears through the door into the school. By the time Steve moves to walk back towards you two, Eddie's loosened his hug to let you slip out, but you're still clutching at his arm like it's a pier in a storm.

"Don't be scared, honey. You're okay." Steve affectionately rubs your head, ruffling your hair a bit in the process. But he's a lot more gentle than when he does it to Dustin or the other kids, careful, and fortunately so when you've still got such a disturbed expression.

"I..I thought he was gonna.."

"He won't. Stevie's got us–look how strong he is." Eddie smiles over at you, and rubs the hand you've got gripping his sleeve so you can feel his rings against your skin.

"Did you, um…I don't know how much you heard of that.."

"Well, we got to hear you call him a cunt. That was fun." Your eyes turn back to Eddie, big and doe-like, and god, there's rarely been a time he's wanted to kiss you more than he does right now. "...And I heard what you said about me."

Fear strikes across your face, and you quickly avert your gaze from him like it's too much to even meet his eyes. He hates how shaky you still are, even when the danger has passed–he never wants you to be afraid of him, scared of what he's gonna say next. Ever.

"I-I…Eddie, I…I don't want to ruin what we have. And I…Steve, I'm sorry I-" Your voice is trembling, and even though your head is turned away he can clearly tell you're on the brink of tears. But that's when Steve pipes up, a hand brushing your cheek as he guides you to look up at him.

"You had a crush on me, right?" You stutter, taken aback by his query, but he just keeps going. "You were younger, I remember. I was a senior. You used to wear your hair like,"

He motions around his head, trying to charade his way into describing it before his hands land on his hips.

"Like that. It was cute."

Eddie knows you're not nearly as close with Steve–you would definitely be considered friends, but you mostly know Harrington through him and you haven't spent much time together alone. Before they started going out, that fact would relieve him. He didn't even know that you and Steve knew each other before you all started hanging out.

"Listen, Eddie's not gonna say it, but he likes you. And I like you. And from what I can tell, you might feel the same. So," He raises both hands up to show he's being vulnerable, and steps around you to stand closer to Eddie's side. "If you don't, that's totally cool. We can pretend none of this happened–but if you do, and you don't mind sharing, well…we can stop running after you like lost puppies to make sure you're okay."

You're speechless, clearly. Your eyes dart from one boy to the next, searching for some sign that they're gonna burst into laughter and admit that it was all an elaborate prank. But all Eddie does is keep stroking your hand, until you slowly release it from his jacket and let him take hold of it.

"Is…this really happening? This isn't a dream, right?" You're the one who's incredulous now, and the two of them look between each other as a spark of fear ignites. It's just now occurring to Eddie and his boyfriend both that they might have made a huge mistake by saying this right now.

"I…y'know what, now I'm thinking this might have been a bad time to say all that. I'm sorry, I just, seeing you scared like that-"

"Did you mean it?" You interrupt Steve's near-frantic babbling, your eyes now intense in a way that Eddie has to mentally slap himself to not find as incredibly hot.

"Well yeah, of course. We mean it, right Eds?"

"Damn right." You look between the two of them. Are you still questioning, he wonders? Will you walk away, thinking they were liars this whole time, just waiting for a chance to make fun of you?

"Do you…wanna get some dinner?" Only now does your question come out as meek, soft, just like the absolute goddess that first came to Eddie to ask if you could get something from the theatre while Hellfire club was in session. He still remembers that day so fondly, the way the club members teased him for how gently he spoke to you and how he paused the game for a whole ten minutes just to explain what they were doing to you. And the first time you got frustrated with him, yelled at him for something stupid he did that he doesn't even remember anymore, and how whipped he realized he was when he witnessed how forceful you were when you were worried about him.

"Oh, like…now?" Steve's voice breaks him from his reverie, he didn't even realize he was staring at you, or that your eyes flicked over to stare right back.

"Yeah." You bite your lip. Mercy.

"Yes," Eddie sighs, his eyes totally fixated on you, like he's already lovesick. "Anywhere you want. I'll pay for yours."

"Think again, Munson. Keep your money, I'll cover everyone's. C'mon, beautiful." He snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face to bring him back to reality, drawing a giggle out of you in the process as he loops an arm around your waist and leads you away towards his car. He might have been left behind, if he wasn't still holding your hand–you give him a tug to pull him along with you, and he hurries up to walk on your opposite side from Steve.

It might be impossible to tell what's gonna happen next, what you're gonna say when you all sit down at a booth at the diner and have the conversation that he's been waiting so long to have–but it doesn't matter, none of it does. Because all those nights of lying awake with Stevie and talking to each other about you, about how perfect it would be to pull you into their little universe with them…now, it might be possible for it to all come true. There's a chance. And that's more than either of them could ever ask for from an angel like you.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #steve x reader x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #eddie's angelface #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #2k

[animasola86]

A Night in the Undercroft (3/4)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff // Words: 4.2k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: After visiting Anne in Feldcroft with Solomon being the horrible person that he is, Sebastian and MC return to the Undercroft for some healing intimacy. (Give this boy a hug already!)

Warnings: Angst! Verbal abuse! NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Horny teenagers! Rough sex!

-- Part 1 -- Part 2 -- // -- Part 4 --

Last warning: There's trauma and there's smut. And two people having it rough.

The Nightmare

Sebastian remained lying there, holding her, his mind too troubled to ease into sleep that quickly. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and closed his eyes, trying to focus on her warmth instead of the nagging thoughts of dread and bitterness.

When sleep eventually did grace him with its presence, it might have started out nicely as he remembered what they had just done together. Seeing her come undone due to his touches had been one of the best experiences in his life. Burying himself into her warmth came close second. Moving with her, their bodies so close, deeply connected, both physically and emotionally, becoming one, he couldn't have dreamt of anything better.

Yet along with his euphoria came the very familiar feeling of guilt. He would never admit to it in a conscious state, but whenever exhaustion washed over him and thinned the veil between his conscience and his deepest, darkest thoughts, those emotions started gnawing on his insides, turning every beautiful experience into something much darker, tinting it with a sad edge, forever corrupting it in his mind.

It was one single question, one single thought, that turned everything good into something he quickly regretted, or was told to regret.

How can I be happy when my sister is in constant pain and withering away with every passing heartbeat?

It was this question that was always in the back of his mind. He had done everything to distract himself from it and for a while, it had worked. Nebbia had made sure of it. She had felt, unconsciously or not, that he needed her to be close, constantly. She had known that if he had spent the night alone, it would have destroyed him. After what had happened in Feldcroft today, he had been absolutely certain that he would have either stayed up all night, forcing the nightmares away, or if he had surrendered to them, they would have damaged him only further.

And he had hoped, by spending the night with her, he would be able to fight them, fight the guilt and resentment, but it wasn't enough. It never seemed to be enough. How could he possibly top this, having her so close, feeling her breathing against him, her body warm and right there on top of him, and yet there he was, his mind clouded by darkness once again. And sleep was just a fickle thing, an illusion of rest, at least for him. He always woke up even more stressed, even more exhausted.

He had long realized that he wasn't just looking for a cure for his sister, but for himself as well. He needed her to be healthy again, back to her old self, to finally allow him to live his own life again. It was selfish, he knew that, but if he was to come out of this without completely losing himself, he needed it to happen that way. And he knew, in order to enjoy the little happy moments the gods had been gifting him as of recently, he had to research even more, find more books, more possibilities, more ways to finally be rid of this horrible curse.

For Anne, and for himself.

He breathed deeply and his thoughts finally quieted down a little, only a low throbbing behind his eyelids now. Darkness surrounded him. But that was never a good thing.

He found himself in a dark room, unable to see anything, not even his own hand. In spite of that he started walking, slowly, step after step, not afraid of the dark or the unknown. Yet there was something looming behind him, an even darker shadow that made him walk faster until he was running, breathlessly, deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Unable to get anywhere, he stopped and turned around, facing whatever was chasing him. His heart was pounding inside his chest as he clenched his hands into fists, bracing himself for whatever was coming. But when the voices grew louder, surrounding him, yelling at him, growling and snapping, grumbling and teasing, always angry, always condescending, he quickly found himself on his knees, his hands pressed on his ears, screaming for them to stop.

It was always Solomon's voice that haunted him, found him in his darkest dreams, turning every sleep into nightmares. Sebastian had tried to ignore him, cut him from his life, but how could he when it was his uncle who was caring for Anne? He needed him to care for her when he was at Hogwarts.

How dare you continue your education when your sister had to drop out? How dare you drop this responsibility on me? When it is your fault? It is your fault! You should have looked after her! You should have protected her! You're her brother! That is your duty!

He was already on the floor, a whimpering, screaming mess, rocking back and forth, trying to shut out the voices but they only got louder and louder, drowning out everything else.

And how dare you bring this girl to us today? Do you want to torment your sister? Show her how happy you are when she is withering away? How dare you! And always those ridiculous attempts at giving her hope! There is no hope! There is no cure!

“Shut up!” he screamed. “Shut up! Please!”

But Solomon's voice echoed through his head, through the darkness of his nightmare, and he was unable to stop it, unable to fight it. It would torture him until he finally woke up again, if he woke up again, and it would leave him feeling even more dreadful than before. Like always.

Yet through the darkness of this night's anguish came a softer voice. Barely audible amongst the yells and screams and growls, but it was there. And he scrambled to his feet, his head spinning and his heart racing, and he followed it. It called to him, gently, lovingly. Suddenly there was a light, a tiny little light in the far back of the dark room. He ran quicker, and even though the loud voices were right behind him, he reached out a hand and took a leap, grasping at the flimsy light, putting all his hope into it.

“Sebastian!”

He woke up with his throat hurting and a gasp falling from his lips. It took him a long while to come to his senses, realizing that the voices were gone, the darkness was gone, and he was lying on the lumpy couch in the Undercroft. And she was there. His eyes could barely focus on her pale face, but when they did, he inhaled deeply, a sigh of relief escaping his mouth. He reached up and cupped her beautiful face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, unaware of the tears falling from his lashes.

Nebbia watched him out of those big green eyes, concern plastered all over her pretty features. Her hands were on his face now, and he felt her wiping at his cheeks, only then noticing his blurry vision and burning eyes. He swallowed hard, blinking the tears away as best as he could. Yet his attempt at smiling failed miserably as his jaw clenched up immediately.

“Are you okay?” he heard her whisper as she watched him closely. “You were... screaming in your sleep.”

He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes, unable to meet her caring gaze any longer. His hands moved to her back, and even though he needed the comfort, he started rubbing her shoulder blades gently instead.

“Just a nightmare,” he admitted eventually, his voice hoarse. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you...”

“I'm only scared for you,” she said softly, and he felt her resting her head on his chest, lovingly stroking his skin as she settled down again.

“Don't be, I'll be fine,” he replied, not believing his own words. He opened his eyes and stared up at the vaulted ceiling, breathing deeply.

“I'm here for you, you know that, right?” she whispered after a moment of deafening silence.

He chewed on his lips before he pressed them to the top of her head. “I know. Thank you,” he then said quietly.

“No matter what,” she went on and shifted against him until she was facing him, her hand gently stroking his cheek. “Do you hear me?”

Her gaze was firm, and he wanted to believe her so badly, wanted it to be true, even though he knew he would lose her eventually as well. Like he would lose everything eventually. Because he didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve her.

“I hear you,” he whispered, holding her gaze.

She seemed unconvinced and rightfully so. Her hand moved to his jaw, and she pulled his face towards her before closing her lips around his gently. Her kiss was sweet, and every single touch, every little brushing, every little sucking, the smallest movement of her tongue asking him to open his mouth, felt wrong. The darkness was still too present in his head and every good thing turned bad again, even outside his dreams. And he wanted to scream yet again.

Let me have this! Please!

He closed his eyes, another tear falling from his lashes, as he kissed her back defiantly, hoping to savour the feeling, make it good again. Parting his lips for her, he pushed his tongue against hers demandingly, quickly turning the sweet kiss into a more passionate one. One of his hands grabbed the back of her head and pushed her even closer towards him, while his other hand travelled down her back until it closed around her bum cheek tightly.

She squeaked against his mouth in surprise, and that reaction alone caused him to smirk again. Kissing her more firmly, he kept kneading her soft flesh, his fingers teasing right along her crack downwards, his fingertips brushing against her folds as he remembered the first time he had touched her like this.

You will not take this from me! Never!

His other hand wandered down her body as well until he grabbed her rear with both hands, kneading and pulling her cheeks apart, moaning softly against her lips as he deepened the kiss hungrily. She squirmed on top of him, quiet whimpers falling past her tongue as she explored the inside of his mouth curiously. She might neither look it nor sound it, but she was just as eager to be close to him as he was to being close to her.

It had surprised him the first time he had kissed her, and it continued to surprise him, but it grew on him, and it made him want her even more. She was perfect. He didn't quite know if she was perfect for him, but she was perfect nonetheless, and he was lucky to have her give him this sort of attention. He was lucky to have her, period.

“Nebbia,” he growled quietly, kissing the corner of her mouth to catch his breath. “I need you,” he almost whimpered darkly, riding that post-nightmare vulnerability with all he had.

“I'm right here,” she replied, her hands holding his face firmly as she looked at him, her lips trembling and swollen already. “How... do you need me?” she then asked, correctly guessing his intentions.

He kissed her once more, with his tongue firmly gliding over her open mouth as she gasped against him, before he grabbed her shoulders gently and turned her around so that her back was pressed against his chest. Shifting behind her, he slid one arm under her body and held her close, while the other hand moved over her and gently grabbed her right breast, kneading it playfully as he pressed his lips against her shoulder.

She didn't seem too content about the new position, but she didn't object. He kept kissing the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose into her hair as he started grinding his hips against her rear, firmly pressing his hardening cock between her cheeks. He heard her whimper slightly, but instead of moving away, she pushed her backside firmer against him, craving that friction. He chuckled against her. His hand moved to her other breast, his fingers quickly finding her pert nipple, kneading and rubbing and rolling it to coax those sweet sounds out of her throat.

Of course she obeyed, and her moans quickly filled his ears, drowning out the distant voices. A groan escaped him, and he let his hand wander down her body, over her stomach and right between her tight thighs, his fingers sliding between skin and flesh until he found her slick. She arched her back into him, breathing heavier now. He held her close to him, his other hand stroking over her collarbone until he closed his fingers gently around her throat, just to hold her, until he felt her swallow against his palm. It took only a light squeeze to make her moan again.

It was almost too easy to get these noises out of her. He still loved every single one.

Kissing her shoulder, he kept pushing his cock between her cheeks, letting it slide through her wet folds as he started stimulating the little nub above them with a firm grip of his fingers, slowly circling it at first, then rubbing it tighter, until he pressed against it almost forcefully. She moaned louder, her legs twitching against him. Her fingers clawed at the hand around her throat now, not to make him stop, but to hold onto him as her body started shuddering and convulsing.

He let go of her clit and grabbed her thigh instead, firmly pushing her legs open to give him better access to her beautiful pussy. He kept moving his cock through her wet folds, coating himself with her slick, hardening more and more before he gave himself some quick reassuring strokes, until he grabbed it firmly and without any further preparation pushed his tip against her entrance, lying back a little to tilt her pelvis against him.

When he pushed in slowly but relentlessly, she cried out loudly, and he gripped her throat in response. “Shh...” he purred softly and kissed her ear. “Relax...” Her whimpers grew quieter, her body quivering slightly. He kept on pushing into her until he was swallowed by her tight warmth entirely, his balls pressing against the back of her thigh.

He heard her sobbing quietly and quickly grabbed her chin to turn her head towards him a little. She gasped, and he pressed his lips to her jaw, cooing consolingly. “Does it hurt?” he asked gently, almost hoping it would.

“Yes,” she admitted, and he couldn't help but feel a little proud. It was a sick and twisted thought, but a comforting one at that, that he had this power over her. He could do anything to her, make her happy, make her scream, hurt her only to comfort her after.

He kissed her cheek, tasting her salty tears. His tongue moved over her skin, lapping with long, broad strokes, while he started moving his hips against her, skipping the slow and gentle pace, falling right into a much quicker, more rapid rhythm. She moaned and whimpered, almost whined as she pressed her back against his chest. He slammed hard against her rear, the slapping of flesh against flesh music in his ears. His free hand moved back to her clit, and while he drove himself into her at a relentless tempo, he started rubbing and kneading the little nub between his fingers.

She cried out and squirmed against him, her chest rising and falling fast against his arm, her hard nipples brushing over his skin, making him pay more attention to the pert buds as well. Rolling and teasing them between the fingers of his other hand in the same fashion he was handling her clit, he quickly felt her coming undone right in front of him. Her moans grew louder, her breaths erratic and her entire body tensed, her thighs closing tightly around him as he kept thrusting into her through the waves of her orgasm.

She was convulsing against him, her back arching, her shoulders rolling forwards as her entire body seemed to twist in on itself. He gripped her tightly, holding her firmly in his arm as she spasmed more and more, until she screamed a muffled scream and stopped moving altogether, with only her whimpers showing him that she was still with him. He kissed her neck, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, calming her as he kept rocking his hips against her, faster and harder, using the clenching of her walls to push himself over the edge.

Yet it took longer this time, and he gritted his teeth, holding onto her body tighter as he quickened his pace, ramming into her as forceful as he could, as fast as humanly possible, fuelled by her whimpers and moans, until at last, he felt his cock twitching and he was ready to bust. Instead of emptying himself inside her again, he pulled out then and grabbed his girth firmly, pumping and squeezing until he spilled his seed all over her rear and between her thighs with a loud grunt.

He rolled onto his back, still holding his throbbing length, feeling more strands of cum spurting from his tip and dripping onto his hand. He was breathing heavily, his head completely empty. The voices were gone. Smiling to himself, he let go of his death grip on her body and snaked his arm back, gently rolling her over to face her again. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face flushed and her cheeks wet, her lips trembling. She sniffed quietly and slowly settled on his chest, her somewhat curious gaze on him.

“Do you feel better?” she whispered, her voice as strained as his.

He turned his head towards her and nodded, breathing loudly through his nose as he chewed on his lips. He let go of his cock then and wiped his seed on his leg, before raising that hand to gently touch her cheek. She watched him closely for a moment, before her eyes wandered towards his hand. Without hesitation she grabbed it and cradled it between her fingers, before bringing it to her lips and kissing it softly.

When he noticed that she was kissing away specks of his cum, he blushed deeply, his breath hitching in his throat. Unconsciously or not, but she was very meticulous in cleaning his fingers, her tongue flicking around his digits gently and thoroughly. And all he could do was watch her with wide eyes and a small proud smile on his lips. She was absolutely perfect.

Once she was done, she kissed his fingers again, before she stopped to look at his hand, then moved her eyes back to him, and once he held her gaze, she closed her lips around his fingertip and started sucking on it. He was so surprised, he issued a short laugh. So she wasn't as innocent and unknowing as he had thought.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked quietly.

She pulled his finger out of her mouth with a wet pop and smirked, despite the violent blushing of her cheeks. “Must have read it somewhere...” she whispered.

He chuckled at that and moved two of his wet fingers against her lips, gently stroking her mouth as she opened it for him. He explored the inside of her cheeks with deliberate touches, stroking and caressing, until he moved his fingers deeper, pushing against her tongue. He watched her closely, and when her eyes widened slightly, he pulled back again, despite his need to feel the back of her throat. But perhaps she wasn't ready for that yet.

It had been an eventful night, he shouldn't push his luck.

He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and leaned in instead, pressing his lips against hers gently, his hand stroking the side of her face as he kissed her softly. Her hands rested on his chest as she kissed him back gingerly, her lips closing around his bottom lip, before he got his tongue involved again. She was quick to respond and pressed her own tongue against his, tasting and licking, lips brushing and sucking, the kiss only a small representation of his many emotions for her.

Breathing heavily against her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him fully, feeling her legs still slightly twitching. As he kissed her deeply and as her hands moved up to cup his face, he shifted beneath her, suddenly overwhelmed by how lucky he was: feeling her soft skin against his, her gentle touches, her unwavering affection for him despite all the things he had her endure tonight. It felt too good to be true.

He inhaled sharply as he turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss reluctantly, but necessarily. She continued kissing his cheek and jaw as he tried to catch his breath and calm his heart – and the doubts swirling through his head. Too bad the post-haze clarity would come so soon...

“I don't deserve you,” he heard himself whisper, barely audible to his own ears, yet she looked up quickly, and he noticed a shadow of concern washing over her face as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Why do you say that?” she whispered back, her hands grabbing his head and turning it back to face her. She sounded almost stern.

“Because I don't, you are too good for me...” he said and pressed his lips together.

“With that logic,” she replied, frowning. “I don't deserve you too. Because you are too good for me too.”

He watched her long and hard. “I'm not as good as you think...”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “You are good to me. You've helped me so much already, in this short time that I'm here, that I've known you. You were always there for me, selflessly so, the first friend I ever had, the first...” She stopped and inhaled sharply. “Sebastian, I know why you think you don't deserve me. I know you feel guilty, because... how can you be happy, when your sister is not?”

He stared at her. How could she read him so easily, how could she say those words that have haunted him for so long?

“It's not your fault. That curse is not your fault!” she continued, watching him imploringly. “It was not your fault that Anne was cursed, you couldn't have protected her! She is her own person, she makes her own decisions. She wanted to help and found herself at the wrong place at the wrong time. There is no one at fault here, only the one who had cursed her.” Her voice was strained and shaking, but it brought her point across nevertheless.

Yet he couldn't reply to her well-intended words. He couldn't admit to them. Who was he to agree to this girl who tried to make it easier for him? He didn't deserve to have it easier. It wasn't fair! “It isn't fair...” he heard himself mutter, and his eyes started to burn. He inhaled sharply and looked away, feeling a tear fall from his lashes as he blinked. He quickly tried to wipe it away, but a tiny hand grabbed his wrist.

“I know it isn't fair,” she said softly and pulled his hand down, gently stroking his cheeks with her own fingers instead. “But you don't have to blame yourself for it day in and day out. I don't mean that you should forget it entirely, but... think of yourself for once, savour those little moments that make you happy. You won't be of any help to Anne, or anyone for that matter, if you push yourself to complete exhaustion and... utter madness.”

Her words echoed through his head, slowly sinking in. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, before he looked back at her. “Where have you been all my life?” he then whispered, words spoken with a smirk to play it off as a tease, but he meant every single one of them.

“I'm here now,” she whispered back, her thumbs grazing over the smirk that deformed his lips. “And I'm not leaving.”

He frowned at that. “Don't promise that...”

“Why not? Unless you don't want me any more, but if it was just me, I'd choose to stay with you, no matter what...”

He shook his head slowly, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “You truly are too good to be true...” he whispered and leaned closer to kiss her softly. “Now stop being so sodding cute and genuine and perfect, okay? I can only handle that much!” He chuckled against her lips.

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly and laughed softly. She kissed him back slowly, before nestling in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply.

He hugged her tighter to his body and kissed the top of her head. “Glad we settled that.”

“Me too,” she murmured.

“You always need to have the last word, eh?” he laughed.

“No,” she said with a smirk – definitely having the last word.

Notes:

Writing from Sebastian's POV always makes me go a little overboard. He turned out a little twisted, but come on, that boy is damaged, why shouldn't he be?!

So, part 3 of my four-part smut-series that I wrote in one entire afternoon and am now content-vomiting on tumblr and AO3, I can't help myself.

Part 1 - The Night (1)

Part 2 - The Night (2)

Part 4 - The Day After

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #smut #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[levmada]

considering that lots of people say that Levi's main love languages is acts of service, how do you think he'd give reassurance to others? can be a friend or romantic partner, doesn't matter.

but do you think he'd just stay quiet and listen to the person talking, offer solution, try to do something nice for them?

i also say his main love language is acts of service :)

the distinction between affection and reassurance is important i feel. levi, who’s naturally empathetic, is the type of person who would commonly give reassurance, but in his own special way. this is reserved for words. on the other hand, levi shows affection very very rarely in canon - again in his own way, but with action and words.

to him, action is a step-up in his care/affection/respect towards a friend or loved one, so he’s more likely to give words than the latter. for example:

to reassure farlan after their argument in which farlan wants levi to follow his plan and let them come on the expedition, levi tells him that he’s going to trust him (or them both that he’ll believe in them, depending on the ova vs the manga).

to reassure eren at the start of the uprising about his inability to harden his titan form, levi basically goes on a rant about how disappointed everyone is and bitching about the situation before explaining how the air outside the walls smells better than inside… aka he wants everyone, especially eren, to keep fighting no matter the odds.

he reassures erwin during their last conversation by telling him that he fought well, and couldn’t have gotten this far without him, but also makes the choice that will kill many people into his own hands instead of leaving it in erwin’s, which is an act of service, as well as letting him pass was.

so to be succinct, levi’s reassurance is rarely affectionate, but when it is, it includes an act of service.

anyway, still, levi isn’t good with words and he knows it. he’s going to stay quiet as long as you want to speak.

what’s interesting about levi is that he always speaks logically, no matter what it’s about. (or almost always if my recollection isn’t 100%.)

for example, after the 57th expedition, as he and eren are waiting for erwin, instead of ‘i don’t want you to think that i hate or resent you; you can still be comfortable here. i know you idolize me, but im not infallible. plus whether it was your fault or not, we have to keep moving forward’ - levi complains and makes a bad attempt at a joke. eren points out that he’s rly being talkative, but levi claims that’s he’s *always* talkative. eren opens up a little about his regret, pointing out that even levi was injured, to which he reminds him that no one knows how things will turn out.

so he’s very straightforward but at the same time roundabout. it’s one of my favorite things about levi. it’s the frame of pretty much all of his interactions, including towards those he worries and cares about.

so if you want comfort it’s awkward, and he states a lot of seeming facts, but he feels it deeply, how much he wants you to be comforted.

so naturally, i don’t think levi is even capable of giving reassurance without a solution😭

“Levi im sad my brother died. i feel so alone :(”

“i’m not a stranger to loss either, so don’t worry. but don’t miss his funeral, because it’ll be your last chance to say anything to him. are you going alone?”

and yes, any degree of sadness you feel or comfort you want from him is guaranteed to come with small acts/favors, especially since he’s aware he doesn’t exactly thrive in that area.

all in all, for him words are difficult and touch is difficult, so he prefers using acts of service and quality time to give reassurance to you / someone he cares about. i don’t think gift-giving applies to reassurance, but if so, that falls in the middle for Levi ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#levi aot #snk levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman hc #aot hc #aot levi #aot fluff #attack on titan #aot meta #levi.thoughts

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

I hope I don't murder me (I hope I don't burden you)

AU in which Lan Wangji stays in the Burial Mounds with Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants

idea here

Living in the Burial Mounds isn't easy - not that Lan Wangji expected it to be. He's known what he was getting into, and his expectations have been correct - but this isn't about the shoddy houses, the cold, damp cave he shares with Wei Ying or the scarce food.

Lan Wangji is fine with those. He doesn't care about comfort and luxury, and as long as he can be by Wei Ying's side, he doesn't need anything else.

What is difficult is watching Wei Ying grind himself near into nothingness every single day. His cultivation is eating away at him, no matter how much he argues otherwise. Perhaps it's not in the way Lan Wangji thought it to be - Wei Ying is very much still lucid - the corruption comes more from his lack of oversight for his own existence.

He works himself into exhaustion inventing spells and talismans every single day, and he fights off the Burial Mounds' whims every time they shake with resentment and threaten the little settlement's fragile safety. He doesn't eat much, if at all, always arguing he isn't hungry, and he sleeps only when he can't keep himself upright anymore. Lan Wangji gets why he doesn't like to sleep - he has nightmares every time he does, and Lan Wangji struggles to bring him out of them every time, for hours on end, breaking away at whatever horrors the Burial Mounds have conjured for him.

To put it bluntly, Wei Ying is wasting away. And Lan Wangji can do nothing but watch - Wei Ying still won't tell him why he's given up the orthodox path of cultivation, he waves away any concern and though he seems to be appreciating any attempts Lan Wangji makes to bring him food or take him to bed (not like that, they're still on a very limited touch basis), he doesn't seem to be getting that much better.

And Lan Wangji doesn't want him to die. Not now, not like this, not ever. After all, the only reason he left the Lan was so he could take care of Wei Ying, protect him, and perhaps even love him, if he'd be allowed. There must be something he can do to make Wei Ying even just a little bit happier than he is now, even if just for a day, even if only to see him smile - smile again, like he used to before the world turned against him and he found his home with the dead, bright and beautiful and sincere.

--

Wei Ying returns from the markets with Wen Ning in tow, flinging about two empty baskets of radishes. They've had a miraculously profitable day today - turns out, some parasite has ruined the radish harvests in the nearby region, making Wei Ying's radishes the only viable ones around.

"People are going to think you cursed the fields to sell your yield." Wen Qing laughed as she counted the large coin pouch Wei Ying's so proudly given her.

"You know what, I could do that. Technically. It sounds like a very Jin thing to do, but the profits would be massive."

Wen Qing shoves at him playfully. "At least there's Hanguang-Jun to reel you in, you get the most chaotic ideas."

"You're one to talk." Then Wei Ying looks around, pouting slightly. "Where's Lan Zhan?"

"I don't know, around probably?" She shrugs. "To be fair, I haven't seen him at all today now that I think about it. He left just after you two did, and he was carrying something."

"Did he tell you where he'd be going?"

"No."

Wei Ying's expression falls. "Oh... Maybe he's finally had enough of this place and he left..."

"Where to? He's not allowed in the Cloud Recesses anymore."

"He's still talking to Zewu-Jun, so..." A sad smile, "I mean, if you didn't have to, would you willingly stay here of all places?"

Wen Qing sends him a sympathetic look, and reaches to poke his forehead lovingly. "He's not the type to just up and leave like that. He'll be back before you know it. And if he really did leave, I'll hunt him down and gut him alive for you."

Wei Ying tries to laugh at that but he can't, not really. "I wouldn't blame him if he did leave... I just..." He swallows, hard, "I don't know... I'm going to... work or something."

He leaves before Wen Qing can say anything, and gratefully walks out into the harsh winds announcing an upcoming storm, his tears lost in the wisps of cold air and resentment.

--

His cave is lonely as he has forgotten it should be. He hates that he has forgotten it - why did he allow himself to get used to somebody always waiting for him at the end of the day, ready to listen if he had anything to say, or just sharing in the silence? Of course it wouldn't last long.

Normal people don't live in mass graves. Normal people don't - they don't love the people living in the mass graves.

Not that Lan Zhan would ever love him, but...

Wei Ying lights up the candle at his work desk and decides he's not going to be thinking of anything but his talismans and his arrays. They don't give him false hope, they don't make him feel like he matters and then leave out of nowhere. They don't pretend like they care when they actually don't.

A tear messes the characters on his prototype for a cleansing talisman and Wei Ying angrily throws it away over his shoulder, his vision blurry. He's angry and disillusioned and hurt - and he doesn't know why! Of course Lan Zhan would go, why would he stay? What's there for him to stay in this wretched place for? What would even keep him tethered here, to this hellhole?!

Wei Ying flings a hand over his desk and everything falls haphazardly around, tears sliding freely down his face.

Why would Lan Zhan - why would anyone even fucking stay - stay there?! Stay there for... for someone like...

Wei Ying folds his hands into a makeshift pillow on the rock he uses as a table and buries his face in it, crying silently. How could he have been so stupid? Lan Zhan is a good person, but... there really is nothing keeping here, there never has been. And... and it's better if he's gone.

He doesn't deserve to live the rest of his life in the Burial Mounds, around someone that he probably doesn't even really like all that much. He probably just wanted to help cause he's righteous and felt bad for the Wen remnants and A-Yuan... but there's a limit to everybody's kindness, probably. Maybe he got sick of the poverty and the struggles, and having to wake up to Wei Ying's screaming every night, maybe he got tired of being around someone that's... more dead than alive.

Maybe... maybe it's better this way. Wei Ying's probably been an unnecessary burden to Lan Zhan anyway. Even if he tried to keep quiet as he worked at night, even if he tried not to take much of anything for himself so as not to seem greedy, even if... even if...

Wei Ying bought something for Lan Zhan from the markets today. He made so much money selling vegetables that he figured he could surprise the other with a little trinket, switching their roles for once. He would be the one to give Lan Zhan a gift this time - he's helped everyone so much, and of course a little item doesn't balance any of it out, but Wei Ying thought it would be... cute. He thought Lan Zhan might like it... It's an ornament for his robes, two white jade bunnies hanging off a beautifully embroidered blue ribbon.

But now that Wei Ying looks at it, he realizes Lan Zhan would probably hate it. He'd never say it outright, but why would he even like it? It's just a stupid thing that cost too much money.

What has Wei Ying been thinking buying it? Wasting money? Thinking it would mean anything? Trusting? Believing? Hoping? Loving?

What has he been thinking?

---

Lan Wangji returns so late in the night he's quite sure he's about to fall asleep at the boundary of the Burial Mounds. He's carrying a lot of things, including food and alcohol that he must be careful not to spill, fragile items and, of course, his own very sleepy self.

He really hasn't expected all that shopping to take so long, but then again he hasn't done much of it himself until now, so perhaps this is how it should be. Lan Wangji is tired, but grateful - Lan Xichen sent him a lot of money, as he requested, and he could get everything he could think Wei Ying would like.

Lan Xichen doesn't agree with his brother's decision to live in the Burial Mounds - nobody in their clan or sect does. But unlike all the people that have renegaded him and forbade him from ever returning home, Lan Xichen still loves him and helps him with everything that he can, risking his relationship with the elders' council and even his sect leader position to send him money and gifts secretly.

Lan Wangji needs to thank him properly for all that he does, though he doesn't know how. It's through his kindness that Lan Wangji has been able to prepare all these things for Wei Ying. And though nobody will notice the money missing, it's still a risk to take.

The Burial Mounds are jarring to walk into, even more so at night. It's just rained as well, and the smell is even more pungent now, rot and petrichor intermixed with the faintest trace of blood, both fresh and old.

The ground beneath Lan Wangji's feet has softened into a formless mass of mud, and he has to use Bichen's glare to see what he's stepping on, the beings living in it ready to grab at him. They reach their... hands towards him, grunting and growling with resentment, and though he isn’t exactly scared (he’s a cultivator, after all, he can’t be scared), he wishes he could just mount his sword and fly his way home. But the fog of resentment overhead is so thick he doubts he would be able to maneuver, and if he gets lost in it, there will be no way out for him.

He can’t use much of his cultivation knowledge either – that only serves to attract the dwellers of the Burial Mounds, all ready to devour some new flesh, feast on living souls and bring another into their ranks.

So all that Lan Wangji has left to do is focus on where he is going, ignore the bellowing screams in his ears, the terrifying apparitions, the phantom pains – and imagine he will soon be safe, home, with Wei Ying, and he will give Wei Ying a nice, relaxing evening to enjoy after a long day’s work.

He pointedly refuses the laughing voices of resentment that tell him he is not wanted here, that he will only bring trouble, that Wei Ying doesn’t love him, that he should just give up, come join us, come to us, be with us, be one of us...

--

Lan Wangji feels like he’s been born again the moment he steps into the protective array that Wei Ying’s set up to guard the Wen settlement. He can finally breathe fresher air, his mind clears immediately and he’s overcome with a sense of relief that settles pleasantly into his stomach, his limbs only a little bit unsteady with the feeling.

Exhaustion catches up to him as well, and he knows he won’t be able to be awake for much longer – bit he knows Wei Ying is, and Lan Wangji wants to brighten up his mood right now more than he wants to rest.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

With a much lighter heart, yearning almost, Lan Wangji walks into Wei Ying’s cave, barely suppressing an excited smile. Wei Ying is going to be so happy!

--

He finds the cave in disarray, and Wei Ying hunched over his table, asleep, surrounded by a mess of notes, ink and broken brushes. The side of his face shines with fresh tears, his cheeks wet, features drawn into a pained expression.

Lan Wangji’s brows furrow, and he places all the items he’s brought near the sleeping mats, walking up to Wei Ying slowly so as not to startle him.

“Wei Ying?”

Resentment materializes out of nothing, blocking his path.

Leave!

Lan Wangji is tired of this already. He’s heard every variation of that on his way home and he’s running out of patience for it.

Leave him alone! You’ve hurt him!

Now that’s new. He has done no such thing - he’s been so careful to respect Wei Ying’s boundaries, took care of him, did his utmost to help him... the Burial Mounds may be horrible, but they love Wei Ying and they’re merciful to those that are kind to him. And Lan Wangji has been just that, kind and devoted to the point of leaving his whole life behind for Wei Ying, no holds barred and no regrets.

This has never happened before, either. The Burial Mounds have received him... well, if one could say that. He never got attacked before, now that he thinks about it, and though he put tonight’s unrest on the resentment just being more active in the dark, he's realizing that there be more to it than that.

He wants to see what's wrong with Wei Ying, though, resentment and the Burial Mounds be damned. And if he has to physically fight this thing, he will - it's not like that would be new.

Lan Wangji draws out Bichen and decides he's just going to go right through this thing if it refuses to get out of his way. And perhaps this is not a very wise choice, but he is tired, worried and still jarred by all the horrors he's encountered in the way here - but he's charging at it before he gives himself the time to really calculate. It's almost like an instinct, wanting to get to Wei Ying and comfort him, and he won't let anyone or anything stand in the way of that.

Bichen's blade pierces through the mass of resentful energy, and it only disperses enough so it dodges the hit. Before Lan Wangji can realize, pain overcomes him from everywhere inside him, as though all his organs have ruptured all at once. He doesn't want to scream, but it's ripped out of him before he knows it, and, for a moment his vision blacks out. He distantly notes that he's never faced resentment this strong, and wonders whether this is the kind of thing Wei Ying had to live through in the three months that he was away. He hopes not. He hopes that this is just the Burial Mounds deciding to hate him in particular, and that it was different for Wei Ying back then.

He coughs out a mouthful of blood and realizes he's dropped his sword at some point. He tries to summon it, but he can't find enough spiritual energy in himself to do it. Is this how he's going to die? Will Wei Ying have to wake up and find him dead? Maybe there will be nothing left of him for Wei Ying to find, that would be easier to deal with, right?

The world is starting to become fuzzy at the edges, or maybe it's just Lan Wangji's tears blurring his vision. He wants, selfishly, his last image to be Wei Ying, and he makes the herculean effort to move his eyes towards where he's still asleep.

Perhaps Lan Wangji is indeed dying - because he thinks he sees Wei Ying jump awake and scream.

--

There is a song.

Lan Wangji recognizes it, it flows around him like a soft, gentle warmth, beckoning him towards... somewhere. He doesn't know where, he doesn't even know where he is right now - doesn't even feel like he is anywhere or anything at all. But even as he is, formless and incorporeal, he's compelled to follow the song, beautifully played on a flute.

It's his song, he made it. He made it for the person he loves, even if he didn't know it at the time and even if it is that person that doesn't know it now.

Slowly, like waddling through deep, heavy waters, Lan Wangji returns to his body. He feels warmth around him, and realizes he's leaning against someone's chest, their heartbeat rhythmic in his ears. The knowledge makes him smile, the movement difficult but inevitable.

"Lan Zhan, are you awake yet?"

"Mn..."

He feels Wei Ying kiss the top of his head, running a hand down his back comfortingly.

"You feelin' better?"

"Mhm."

There is a pause. Lan Wangji can hear the heartbeat underneath his ear quicken, and Wei Ying takes in a deep, shaky breath.

"I'm sorry." he says, at last, his voice soft. "This is all my fault... I thought you left and... you know resentment responds to my emotions so it thought... it was-"

"Trying to protect you." Lan Wangji interrupts, "I get that."

"Lan Zhan... you almost..." another deep breath. "This shouldn't have happened..."

"Wei Ying-"

"No, listen, I-I found... the things you got for me... You're always so good and so kind to me and to everyone else, and you've sacrificed so much for us, we all really don't deserve you. I don't deserve you."

Lan Zhan finally manages to open his eyes, blinking to adjust to the faint lighting in the cave. "Why are you talking like you're wanting me to leave?"

"Because I do."

Lan Zhan lifts his head, confused, to look at Wei Ying, and sees his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"It's dangerous for you to be around me, Lan Zhan. You shouldn't be risking your life living here, and if you ask Zewu-Jun, maybe he'll convince the elders to-"

"I don't want to leave you, Wei Ying."

"And I don't want you to die because of me."

Lan Wangji reaches a hand to hold the side of Wei Ying's face, wiping the tear that's just fallen down his cheek. "Don't make me leave, Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Ying covers Lan Wangji's hand with his own. "I had to - I had to put your soul back into your body... You died. I held you as you died. What if I fail next time and I lose you forever?" Wei Ying holds him tighter now, a slight shake to his body as he cries. "I'd rather let you go alive, than live with the knowledge that I-"

It takes all of Lan Wangji's strength to lift himself up enough to leave a soft kiss over Wei Ying's trembling lips. "I love you."

It feels so freeing to say it that Lan Wangji wonders why he held onto this confession for so long, why it took him so long to say it.

"I love you." he repeats, and the words taste sweeter than any dessert he's ever had. "And I don't want to be away from you. I want to share my life with you."

Wei Ying leans down to kiss him back, and Lan Wangji realizes he's never been happier than right now, nothing he has ever achieved has ever felt like the fireworks Wei Ying's lit under his skin.

"What if there will be no life to share, Lan Zhan?" He asks, smiling, tearfully, as he traces the seam of Lan Zhan's lips.

"Then I'll come back to you in the next one."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #this ficlet ate me alive omg

[ellievickstar]

Between Two Worlds (Chapter 3) DISCONTINUED

A/N: This is a little short but there is a cute omens with Eris and Azriel in this fic so all of you can enjoy :D

Summary: What happens when your emotions consume you, when the love of two completely different people eat you alive as you are lost and trapped in the decision to choose one or the other?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Eris Vanserra x reader

Warnings: Love Triangle, probably mentions of suicidal thoughts, not that much swearing.

Between Two Worlds / Part 2 / Part 3

~*~*~*~*~

“I need your help.”

That’s all you had to say to the High Lady, Nesta and your cousin before they all swept into your room which Helion had situated himself in, tea on the table and one question on their lips: What happened?

They were endearing like that, always ready to care for you, for some strange reason they saw you as some innocent person that they had to protect at all cost. It annoyed you most of the time, but it also made you feel loved on a very different level.

Letting out a breath, you looked at Mor, “Firstly, I am so sorry. I promise that it was not out of ill intentions or anything against you, and I don’t blame you if you choose to resent me forever for this,” And everything was out in the air, how you had been meeting Eris for centuries, how you had grown closer, how you enjoyed you time together. You sucked in a breath. Waiting for Mor to say something.

“And you’re saying that…he didn’t touch me, all this time, was because he knew that I would be in the same bout as before, but maybe even worse,” Mor repeated. You nodded, guilt seeped in as you revealed Eris’s secret, but it wasn’t right anymore, you were in love with the one person which hurt Mor so much, she nearly died. You had to explain, Eris had agreed that if you felt the need you could tell Mor what really happened from his side of the story, you hadn’t told him why you felt a strong need to. But the letter that had replied your question to explain everything to Mor only said three words: I trust you.

Mor seemed to be completely silent, Nesta looked like for once she didn’t look completely appalled at the thought of Eris, and Feyre, looked at you, it wasn’t anger or sadness, but a vague understanding. You and Eris had bonded over the fact that your fathers were both abusive assholes, she could not blame you for that.

“I…I can’t say I completely forgive Eris for what he’s done, not until he has the guts to come and tell me himself. But, I do now understand why he seemed to be conflicted about helping me. And I know that there was no guarantee that Beron would not have done much worse,” Her eyes were soft as she looks at you, “I do not blame you for falling in love. I just want you to be safe.” Closing your eyes, you sighed in relief. Reasonable. She was being reasonable.

Clearing your throat, you got everyone’s attention as you spoke, “There’s more, I’m also in love with Azriel,” That’s when the simultaneous ‘WHAT’ exploded out of everyone’s mouths. You flinched at how loud it was but smoothed your skirts as you sighed. “Yeah, this is some love triangle shit and the cauldron if screwing with me,” Feyre piped up as she asked, “Well, is there any preference?” You considered for a moment but shook your head. “When I think of Azriel I feel my heart race, I feel my skin burn, I feel free. And when I look at Eris I feel the same. They both make me feel…alive. When I think about them I don’t need to worry about closing my eyes and waking to nightmares. I feel safe, I feel free,” Feyre listened intently. Nest seemed to be deep in thought as Mor started to grin.

“How is it that you hav somehow managed to catch, not one, but TWO brooding males who both have marginal anger issues, don’t like to share, and definitely hate each other? Wow. Good for you!” Clapping her hands together, you could tell that she was plotting, and you didn’t know if you should be terrified or excited.

Soon, it was time to bid goodnight but Nesta lingered even as Feyre and Mor left. “Are you sure about this, being in a love triangle can be tricky,” It was a valid question, one you couldn’t leave unanswered. “I love them both,” You assured. But she shook her head, “That might not be enough.”

~*~*~*~*~

You received a letter the next morning from Eris, a reply to the one you had sent the night earlier after the girls left, detailing the night before without some pieces of information. The letter was, a lot longer than you had expected:

My Dearest Little Flame,

I was definitely upset when you chose to not meet me, but it is understandable since you played guest in a different court. As per usual, my father had a…tantrum, when we returned. Do not worry about me, I know you are, but don’t, I’m safe, I’m well, and I’m definitely not bleeding.

The truth is Little Flame, I missed you, dearly. Yesterday was not fair to you when I attacked your court. I cannot explain why but I need you to know that I am sorry.

On a lighter note, I do hope you decide to wear that pretty little yellow dress again, maybe you could get a red version, and if you can’t I will personally go shopping with you. May I ask, how dare you look so outrageously stunning during that meeting? Absolutely ridiculous, I demand compensation.

Perhaps you could give it to me the next time we meet.

Live Little Flame. Live today and tomorrow. Live for a future for both of us.

With much love,

Eris

You laughed as you read the last of the letter, bringing it to your chest as the words rung in your head like a broken temple bell. My Dearest little Flame. My. Thanking your lucky stars you were alone, you flushed deeply as you placed the letter down to get dressed, this time you wore loose linen pants with a longed sleeved cotton blouse, and layered it with a brown leather jacket. Practical if something happened, and easy to run in. After yesterday, anything could happen.

Greeting the rest of the inner court at the breakfast table, you giggled with Vivian as you caught up in each other’s lives. “Love, how is it that you managed to be so stunning in pants and a loose blouse? I must know!!!” Vivian squealed as she asked you rapid fire questions on how life had been going for you after Under The Mountain.

Below the table you felt someone’s foot nudge yours and as you glanced around the table confused, hazel eyes met yours, mischief shining bright in them. Oh that little- he wanted to play games? Well he better be ready to have his ass kicked.

Maneuvering your foot, you lightly nudged his foot before lifting your heel and lightly storming on his toe. The only indication of his pain was a slight ‘oomph’ that he let out. Holding in your giggle was hard, but you managed, this continued for a bit as you both exchanged light taps and smiling at each other once in a while when your legs got caught in each other occasionally. That was when Nesta, Feyre, and Rhys burst into the room.

“The wall,” Feyre breathed, “He’s bringing the wall down.”

~*~*~*~*~

Next part

A/N: I hope you guys loved it <3 Good night/day loves!!! (I know you are either reading this in class or really late a night)

taglist: @positivewitch@bubybubsters@a-frog-with-a-laptop@artof-aristocracy @azriels-mate123 @sourapplex @forsiriussake @we-were-beautiful

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel angst #rhysand #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fluff #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader

[2n2n]

ch 108

WEWWWWWW!!!!!!!! amazing times.

ghoul.... mmm... you look amazing honey

distractions

what is it with aida-sensei wwwww... if it's not Mokke running all around playing sillay little games in the BG it's a detail like this... well I love it very much

It's good to see Akane indict the Clockkeepers in some sense. The real threat indeed...

here we go AGAIN~

poor little songbird~~

it's the captive princesses ... Nene-chan.... I really adore you... you are pure of heart... you have to absorb and appreciate your scenery and role, don't you... it suits you. Unfortunately, even despite your intentions to do this secretly while he sleeps for some self-indulgent reason, I don't think Tsukasa can perceive your fetish, as he is too innocent. Now, you need to show it to Amane....

so kind of you to try to free you both at once, Nene-chan.... you really warmed up to him, didn't you?

N-Nene-chan animal theater.... I love when Aida-sensei does this so much!!!!!!

whore drawing...

but.. I really love to get to see a listless Tsukasa. I've been waiting forever... it's very cute that fatigue makes him depressive and unmotivated! I like that he's not trying at all and just laying down... Tsukasa strikes me as ah, not tolerant of bad stimuli...? the kind of boy who needs to keep his shirt untucked and his suspenders loose to the point of falling off... who can't tolerate a movie theater longterm. It's a charm point, part of this childishness... if he's bored, he just leaves ... if he's tired, he just lays down...

I'm so fascinated that his Tsueshiro are rendered inert, now. I couldn't imagine-- not when the general time power itself couldn't effect him like it did Amane... and, since Amane's Tsueshiro is operating perfectly normally, this means what happens to one doesn't touch the other...

Th-thank you for having beliefs like this, Nene-chan.... please, please think about how they are twins. It makes their minds special, doesn't it? Surely.

another instance to add to the list of 'Tsukasa having a surprising amount of faith in Nene-chan"! WELL-PLACED FAITH !!!! she's amazing isn't she....! this chapter....!

meanwhile.... a wrecking ball smashes into our minds...

what an incredibly intense bit of lore for the Yugi. I love how Tsukasa approaches 'facts'-- with a practical sense, without seeming morose or mired in what could seem a grim absolute. It's just like his delivery of, "Amane hates me" as his younger self.... Tsukasa doesn't lie to himself, doesn't pull away from what is true, but neither does he express resentment, or any expectation or wish for it to be any different. Amane is Amane. Tsukasa knows Amane. I really don't think Tsukasa imagines ... change ... in their dynamic, as much as Amane also struggles avidly with the idea of having anything 'new' as a ghost. I'm sure that is why Tsukasa is seemingly aiming for Amane to rip him asunder again....

He can't seem to be sad about what he doesn't have, because he just doesn't fathom having it in the first place. I... think that's, the purpose of, Nene-chan... to make Tsukasa consider what he doesn't have, or what could be had. Despite being the wish agent, I don't think Tsukasa wishes for much. I think Nene-chan does that for Amane too, of course... I think she's meant to give both the Yugi an impetus for seeing more. For wishing.

whatever part of Tsukasa may have mouthed Amane's name despite his own belief, he does seem to feel something profound....

you're acting tsun and fussy at a time like this.....

I hope Amane heard their entire exchange ... I imagine he would feel quite stubborn and fussy about what Tsukasa's so easily declared as a fact about him. I wonder how he feels about it.... "never come when called by you?"

I am sure every single second, feeling his weight accounted for and bared by Amane's body, is dreamlike. I doubt he can believe what he's feeling! For real.. Amane's arm! Carrying you! In equal measure to carrying Nene-chan!! THERE COULDN'T BE A BETTER MORE IDEAL PANEL FOR EXPRESSING AMANE'S LOVE FOR THE TWO--!!! these little GOONS!! also, this panel kind of gives you lewd thoughts

I'm sure.... if Amane showed up, Tsukasa expected Nene-chan to be plucked from his hands, and to continue to watch them pivot away to safety, while he falls down into the dark pit.. left to his own devices to figure out how to get out. He had to get out of Amane's boundary by himself, didn't he? and Tsukasa wouldn't be sad about it….! Really. It would be Amane being Amane, to him. He expects it, and it's fine. He loves Amane, anyway. He'd die for an Amane who he believes hates him. That's the kind of person Tsukasa is.

a moment to appreciate Tsukasa releasing his own hold on the edge of the cage, to catch Nene-chan...

A wonderful display. I don't think he thinks twice about it.... not a choice to plummet himself to oblivion, but an instinct. That's just like him, isn't it....?

I'll talk a little more about cages, crying for help, beseeching, at the end... because I have a few more thoughts about it!

ughhh save your princesses ♥♥♥♥ I can't believe you've threaded Tsukasa's bound arms around your neck.... ♥♥♥ God do I wish I could see it second by second....

you're making all my dreams come truuuueee Amaneeeeeehhhhh ♥♥♥♥ all three...!!! your two precious things....!!! ohhhhh our heroooo ♥♥♥♥ dashing in his cape.........

y-you remove Nene-chan's shackles but not Tsukasa's .......

if that is how you want me, master... wwwww

goobie woobie oobie baby Nene-chan in Hanako's arms. Hanako experiencing a new lolicon emotion. Ohhhhhhhhh sweet darling preciousness.... it's not so bad to experience a little bit of pain for such an incredible pleasure, right??

oh all this build up and sweating and shaking to say absolutely nothing in response is so incredibly Amane. She loves you just the way you are, thankfully.... we all do.....

I like DBS's TL of Tsu here better than the MangaUP actually AHAH... mangaUP did "good for you." which I think in ENGLISH carries a bitter connotation that I genuinely do not think Tsukasa has lol. He just talks in a naturally simple way lol.

god. Amane you'd love to get away with doing things with no commentary but unfortunately you have a funny little bug of a brother who is obsessed with you.... what an. amazing and perfect Yugi interaction. Amane obviously being pissy. extremely. Tsukasa keying into it. Amane lying blatantly but stubbornly doubling down anyway. Tsukasa continuing to ask like a little pest. Oouuuh. Boyce... brothers....

ohhh Tsu-chan... you can't... imagine.... the kinds of feelings... Amane has about that kiss... okay... he can't begin t o .. articulate ... any of it at all ... I'm sure he would honestly like it to be as simple as 'mad' ....

personally I enjoy that this makes it obvious it wasn't really Tsukasa's intention ... but I think it's cute to him Amane is still thinking about it despite all the circumstances and events lol.... I actually think Amane is being very charitable and maybe the best big brother he can manage to be here ............ I would give him a treat if I could ... not gonna yell at Tsukasa.... not gonna lash out rn.... contain it....

now I would like to say something funny lol. Tsukasa's line here is actually incredibly ambiguous:

he doesn't actually make reference to Nene-chan, it's like " Amane kiss also?" in that casually threadbare way JP can be ... it means the fujoshi are free to interpret "he's pointing to himself, is he referring to Amane kissing him?" playfully aahahahaa... I'm sad its hard to preserve that kind of ambiguous way of phrasing something!!! it's sad that kind of "wait what did he mean" funny discussion can't happen here, mangaUP also just had him directly refer to kissing Nene-chan.... I'm SUUUUURE it's 'meant that way' but, like, I love when coach lets the girlies play....!!!! they are loving this panel.... its way funnier vague .... Amane ? kiss ? too ? wwwww

AN AMAZING EVENT!!!!

LOVE to see Amane THROWING Nene-chan into Tsukasa's arms, Tsukasa dutifully catching her carefully, Amane trusting he will catch her...!!!! Well I have to say it... it's been funny watching the fandom predict a lot of animosity and hatred in all directions that just isn't there ahahaha. All these expectations for Amane to punch and maim Tsukasa in jealous rage, and instead, you have him relying on his brother to help protect her, and trying to graciously handle the situation. The Yugi... they always surprise you by how familiar they really are...

I'm in love with every time Amane seamlessly commands Tsukasa by saying his name... ♥♥♥ look at him, being such a useful otouto even though Amane hasn't granted him the use of his arms back, and the spell making him fatigued... ♥♥♥ even with a ball and chain on his ankle, Tsukasa can run for Nene-chan...!!

I don't have many profound feelings about Teru and Akane lol, they are just very funny to me-- ultimately neither's alliance is truly with one another, despite that I do believe Akane is one of the only people Teru is his true self around. A complicated closeness which is easily broken .... Akane would kill Teru for Aoi, Teru would kill Akane for his little siblings, these are things I think of as fact. It's such a tenuous bond and, they are mutually aware ... but kind of, struggle with betrayal and reliance and trust and dependence on one another's skills and support. I like how KILL TRAIN Teru is here lol. He's got plenty pent up concerning Akane ... unlike Kou, I think Teru is much more capable of "when push comes to shove..." and suspending empathy or compassion ... even if he could later hold remorse. Crazy Minamoto conditioning and such ...

Interested in the greater machinations and Akane's vagueries, but I don't have thoughts about them. Happy to wait for more (:

stupid ... uke .....

--pomf-- ooo get humped idiot

A FEW EXTRA THOUGHTS ...! pertaining to.... Tsukasa's ominous statement, that Amane would not come if he called... that he "never has before"

what a tantalizing thing to say. When, at what point in time? It conjures the image of a Tsukasa pleading for Amane-- something I'm sure many of us, can't even imagine. I haven't thought of a begging Tsukasa, wanting to be saved. He is so typically 'fine' where he is, even if that circumstance is unpleasant.... even at age 4. In a normal situation, it's hard to imagine Tsukasa calling for help from Amane ... and it's hard to imagine Amane, that sweet older brother, not simply sheltering him. He's sweet to Tsukasa, at 4. He's happy to read to him, and tries to put on a calm front for him while so ill, so as not to worry him. Amane cared about Tsukasa, of course! He's even charmed by the Tsukasa absorbed in katanuki for hours at 8. Wouldn't that Amane come running if called? .... but would that Tsukasa cry out for him .... ?

So.....

when, how? The only Tsukasa we've seen a glimpse of post-ghosting is the coffin boy, who appears quite inert and dead. He certainly can't call for Amane. The Tsukasa at the start of this series, struggled to even get used to moving at all. Is there a stage we don't know about?

How much could Tsukasa call him with no answer, until he ultimately concludes it simply will never be replied to? Why would he think that it is specifically himself Amane won't respond to? Only doing something once or twice, wouldn't create conviction like that. In order to say something like, "this person never ____", you would think there would be extraneous circumstances that proved ... beyond a shadow of doubt ... that it simply is the way things are. Tsukasa is so shocked to see Amane appear, and save him ... that belief has to be rooted in something Tsukasa took to heart.

Perhaps something happened when they were alive .... we really don't know what that final year was like.

Whatever the case... Amane does love Tsukasa-- unlike Tsukasa, we have the benefit of knowing this completely! In our hearts! There are circumstances where, because Amane loves you, and wants to protect you, he ignores your cries....

I wonder when, why, how... Amane wouldn't come when Tsukasa finally called. I wonder why Tsukasa would call for him ....

Honestly, if Amane didn't love Tsukasa, the possibilities wouldn't be so scary. They are much more haunting, knowing how much he loves his little brother. I can't wait to learn more about Amane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to see the Tsukasa pleading for his brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wonder how hopeless we have had to get .... !

#avvy's JSHK

[silly-l1ttle-guy]

the fugio fanfic i wrote in my science book <3

EXPECT THIS TO BE REALLY BAD AND PREPARE TO CRINGE

warning for angst btw, this is a sad one </3

------------------

Pannacotta Fugo never thought he would fall in love. A man of his origins would find it hard to fall in love without fear, and yet, he did.

He knew he was a goner the moment he laid his eyes upon his new teammate, Giorno Giovanna, who looked far too gorgeous to be real.

That curly golden hair and those light green eyes had drawn in Fugo before he could even realize it, and by the time he did, he was in far too deep to be pulled back out.

Naturally he tried to hide it, going as far as to even resent Giorno for a little while. However, anyone who looked at Fugo could see his eyes light up and his pupils turn to hearts every time he looked towards Giorno.

Giorno, on the other hand, had known he was in love with Fugo from the first time they had laid eyes upon each other as well. But, unlike Fugo, he fully embraced his feelings, rather than trying to hide than.

The golden haired boy would often find himself staring at Fugo; silently taking in his pale blond hair, which was probably more close to white in colour, and those cherry red eyes of his that would occasionally glance back at Giorno with what seemed to be a longing desire for some sort of love or affection, but would quickly be last as Fugo would avert his eyes elsewhere.

It was hard to hide his face heating up, unfortunately.

Neither would confess, for different reasons. Giorno wanted to wait for a more romantic setting, in the right place at the right time. Fugo just wasn't ready for something like that. He was hoping his feelings would disappear if he just got used to Giorno being around, which of course, would never happen. This left the duo to quietly admire each other silently, without the other knowing.

Fugo would often settle his tender gaze on Giorno when he thought no one was looking, while Giorno would sigh quietly and stare longingly at Fugo whenever he could, only looking away whenever Fugo would notice and look back with a slight blush and a questioning expression.

It wasn't long before Mista and Narancia inevitably caught on to Fugo's little crush, and would tease Fugo endlessly for it. He'd deny it every time, much to their amusement.

This often resulted in Fugo getting frustrated and yelling at Narancia and Mista, who'd giggling and run off before his violent tendencies could arise.

Despite Fugo's uncontrollable anger, it always seemed that he'd calm down in Giorno's presence. Giorno would actually listen to Fugo ranting about something he was interested in, which didn't happen often.

Giorno could calm him down far better than Bucciarati could, and that said something.

Fugo usually hated physical touch, due to specific events he went through before he joined Passione, but when Giorno would hold his hand and reassure him quietly, he found himself yearning for Giorno to just hug him tightly and let him cool down.

Giorno was very patient with Fugo, and would never overstep any of his boundaries. He didn't know why Fugo hated physical touch so much, but he figured it was best to leave some questions unasked. Giorno would never do anything more than hold Fugo's hand, which Fugo had initiated the first time, unless Fugo specifically asked him to do so.

Bucciarati, after catching on to Fugo's feelings for Giorno, would try to give him advice on approaching the golden-haired boy, though it never worked out.

"Fugo?" Giorno looked up from the tea he was drinking, as he noticed Fugo had entered the room.

Fugo closed the door behind him, looking at Giorno with a nervous gaze. "Am I interrupting you, Giogio?" He asked, not wanting to interrupt.

The don smiled and shook his head, placing the teacup down on the table. "Of course not. Please, come join me. You look like you need some company."

Fugo mumbled out an "alright" and sat across from Giorno, keeping his head down as he fidgeted with his hands.

"What's troubling you?" Giorno asked gently, looking at the boy across from him with a caring gaze. He focused his pale green eyes on Fugo, tilting his head to the side.

Fugo found that adorable.

The pale boy hesitated for a moment, scratching at the scars on his cheeks, before answering. "I'm just... lonely," He spoke with a downcast expression, shaking slightly.

"I keep thinking about them... Narancia, Abbacchio, and..." He paused, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he tried to stop them from spilling out. "... And Bucciarati... I- I miss them. A lot."

Giorno's gaze seemed to soften at Fugo's disheveled state, as he reached across the table to place his hand over Fugo's. "It's hard. I know it is, Pannacotta. To learn that almost everyone in your team had been killed must be difficult, especially with how close you were with each of them. Finding out about Narancia and Abbacchio dying must've been hard enough, but to find out that Bucciarati had followed along too? It must be heart wrenching to hear about such a thing."

Fugo looked up at Giorno, surprised that he had called his by his first name, but he didn't exactly mind it.

Giorno stared deep into Fugo's teary red eyes, gently rubbing circles into the back of Fugo's hand with his thumb as the white haired boy started to break. 'I'm here for you, Pannacotta. Mista, Sheila, and everyone is here for you, too. If you ever need anything, I'm right here for you. Don't ever forget that. I love you."

I love you, those words made Fugo finally break down fully as he let out a broken sob, trying desperately to wipe away his tears as he cried.

Fugo was never a fan of crying in front of others, yet he cried in front of Giorno again and again, never really knowing why. Perhaps it was his feelings of love and admiration that helped him open up to Giorno, or maybe it was the fact that he knew Giorno was a kind soul at heart, much like Bucciarati, and yet, so different from him.

Either way, he felt like he needed this.

Giorno looked at him with an expression akin to one of deep concern, before standing up and walking around the table to sit next to the distressed boy. Once he sat down, he went to hold Fugo's hand, but the albino boy leaned into Giorno before he could do anything, hiding his face into Giorno's shoulder and practically throwing his arms around him.

Giorno was surprised, but wrapped his arms around Fugo gently, as Fugo tried desperately to stop crying. He felt like he was embarrassing himself in front of the boy he liked.

"I miss them..." Fugo whimpered, grasping tightly at Giorno's shirt for comfort. Giorno simply kept his arms around Fugo's waist, ever so gently pulling him closer.

Giorno quietly whispered reassurance to Fugo, telling him that he would always be there for him, that he loved him, that it was all ok.

Fugo eventually calmed down after a bit, just resting his head on Giorno's shoulder as the latter rubbed his back in a soothing pattern. The pair sat in silence, with Fugo subconsciously playing with Giorno's hair as they embraced each other.

"Pannacotta," Giorno said suddenly, in a calm, quiet voice. Fugo paused and lifted his head to look at Giorno, his eyes red and puffy from crying. The blond smiled at Fugo, brushing his hair out of his face. "I love you."

Fugo's eyes widened at his words, finally having processed that Giorno had confessed his love towards him multiple times today, but he only now realized that. He smiled, and leaned in to kiss Giorno.

Giorno kissed back softly, pulling away after only a few seconds. His lips were soft, whereas Fugo's were chapped.

"I love you too, Giogio."

----------- END

HOLY FUCK IM SO SORRY FOR DELAYING IT THIS LONG

I didn't mean to make you guys wait for over a month I swear. anyway i love my gay boys and I honestly expected this to be longer, but oh well. I might post some diavolo and doppio headcanons either tomorrow or later to today

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba part 5 #jojo golden wind #giorno giovanna #jjba giorno #fugio #fugo x giorno #fugo pannacotta #giorno x fugo #jjba fugo #jojo vento aureo #vento aureo #jjba fanfic #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo #angst #comfort #jjba angst #fluff #bruno buccellati #bruno buccerati #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #jjba narancia #narancia ghirga #mista #fugo #giorno #abbacchio #bucci gang

[shouldershimmycity]

Papers (Pt. 1) Rooster x Reader

Maverick pulled Rooster's papers for a reason, but he never told him why. When Maverick is questioned again he still refuses to answer out of respect for Carole. Until you let it slip, and now he knows.

Angst? Swearing. Rooster having sad boi Thursdays.

This is my first fic please be gentle with me.

ALL PARTS ARE POSTED

*****

Dirt swirled up around your truck as you pulled up to your dad’s hangar. You took a second to look around, noting the beautiful, absolutely clear sky. Perfect for flying, of course. But your dad was tweaking a few things on the P-51 and Rooster was helping him. So flying would have to wait for another day. It’s not like you didn’t do that on a daily basis anyway.

The three of you had been involved in the mission that had called your father back to Top Gun in the first place and put him face to face with Rooster. It had been nice to see him in person again, but you had never lost touch with him like your father did. After they had both been shot down and took a joyride in an enemy F-14, they seemed to be on relatively good terms.

Bradley had been a friend to you all his life, having lost his dad and you having no mom. You both felt the need to protect each other from a very early age, and of course both your parents adored the other’s child. Carole was like your mother and Maverick had stepped in as best as he could to fill the role of Bradley’s father, since he felt responsible for what had happened to Goose. Although unconventional, you had a nice little family growing up. Until Carole died and Bradley’s papers were pulled. You frowned, remembering the night Bradley found out. He had been so upset. God, you lost your voice from screaming at your father when Bradley had told you.

You slammed the door so hard it should have fallen off the hinges. Your footsteps sounded hard, you were moving with a sense of purpose and that scared Maverick shitless. He knew exactly what that was and he braced himself for it. He could fly the most dangerous mission and not break a sweat, but facing his daughter when she was angry with him… oh boy. He sat waiting for hell in the living room.

He had pulled Bradley’s papers, as his mother’s dying wish. Maverick knew it would be hard on him to lose his only remaining parent, as he had been through that himself, but he didn’t want Bradley to resent his mother for grounding him. The familiar weight of Goose’s loss crept over him, and he took a long sip of his beer. He believed Bradley was more than capable of handling himself, but he understood Carole’s wish that her son would never be in the same position as her husband was. It pained Maverick more than anything to do that to him, the kid he looked at as a son. He knew it would hurt you too, because your papers had made it through. 

Maverick’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing behind him. He turned to look at you, nothing but guilt in his eyes. You stood there, eyes full of rage and betrayal, your hands shook violently. Maverick opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“How fucking dare you? What the hell is wrong with you, do you hate Bradley or something? You’ve overstepped so far, it's not even funny!” Your tone was dark and meant to wound. You wanted it to hurt him like he had done to Bradley. 

“Listen, I know it hurts and I–,” Maverick trailed off, looking down at the ground, “I had reasons for it and I can’t explain them but it had to be done.” He hated being the bad guy, especially because he wanted Bradley to follow in his father’s footsteps, just like you were planning to do with your old man. But, Carole’s word was the only one that mattered here. 

“Why did you do it?” 

Maverick flinched at the way your voice cracked. 

“I told you, I can’t e–”

“Why did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, I ca–”

“WHY? DID? YOU? DO IT?”

Maverick sat in silence for a second, then he looked up to meet your gaze again. You had angry tears rolling down your face and every bone in your father’s body ached for what he had done to you and to Bradley. 

“...Carole asked me to…” he confessed, “I pulled his paper’s because I didn’t want him to resent his mother for the rest of his life, they loved each other too much.”

Your face twisted from rage to surprise, then puzzled, and finally understanding.

“...oh,” you whispered.

“Bradley can’t know, it would crush him more than… more than I already did,” Maverick sighed in defeat. 

You nodded slowly, running through everything in your mind. You hated the fact that it made sense, you hated a lot of things about the situation. You were now privy to the real reason his papers were pulled, but it still sucked. You loved Bradley and wanted the world for him, but suddenly the bandaid was ripped off and you saw all sides of it. It all made sense too, which sucked even more. 

You sobbed, and your father immediately got up to give you a hug. It wasn’t fair, but you knew you couldn’t do anything to fix it. What’s done is done and it was too far out of your reach. You wept for Bradley.

A light tap on your window snapped you out of your daze, and you turned off your car and opened the driver side door. Your dad cocked his head at you and you waved him off starting off towards the hangar. You noticed a lack of one Bradley Rooster Bradshaw in the area, and looked over at your father with a raised eyebrow. That's when you saw the look on his face. 

“Rooster?”

“He and I got into an argument this morning..” your dad said sadly, by the look on his face you could tell he felt like he was right back where he started. 

“What about? I thought…” you trailed off. 

“He asked me why I pulled his papers.” 

“...did you tell him?” your heart started racing, wondering what the hell happened and if it was going to take Bradley away from you. 

You and Bradley were extremely close. You had even dated prior to the paper incident, but had collectively decided it wouldn’t be good timing if you were both about to join the Navy. You still held onto your feelings for him even though he seemed to drop his for you a long time ago. He never roped you into the mess between him and Maverick, so you had been the one to support him through it. 

“I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t,” he sighed, defeated. At this point this was a decade and a half long problem. “Of course he got mad at me and left.”

“Let me go talk to him about it,” you started to turn and your dad grabbed your shoulder before you could walk away.

“You can’t tell him about Carole,” he pleaded. 

You went back and forth in your head about the pros and cons of telling him and not telling him. If you told him, he might get the closure he needed, but it might break his heart. You nodded to your father solemnly. 

“I won’t.”

You shouldn't have made any promises.

*****

You had called Rooster to find out where he was, only to discover that he was waiting for you at your house. It didn’t surprise you. Usually he would come to you whenever he needed a friend. His old Bronco sat in your driveway, and the dejected looking aviator sat on your doorstep, in all his Hawaiian shirt glory. You parked in your usual spot and Rooster couldn’t help but smile when you approached the front step. 

“What’s cookin good lookin?” he asked, as you passed him to unlock the door.

You raised an eyebrow at him, he was always saying ridiculous shit like that to you and no one else. You were also raising an eyebrow because he was unusually cheery for being on your doorstep. It’s not like he didn’t visit you, but you both knew why you were there. Rooster’s face fell.

“I know, let's go inside and talk,” you said, pushing the door open for him. He stood up and followed you inside. 

You got yourselves some lemonade and pulled out some leftovers, offering some to Rooster, who politely declined. He sat on your couch and you sat on your coffee table. He went on for almost an hour about how frustrated he was with Maverick. He got angry when he talked about how pissed his dad would have been if he were still here, and how his mom would have hated Maverick for it. You made him drink before he got too angry, like a small child needing to take a breather, and when he finished he sat there quietly.

“He still won’t tell me anything…” Bradley whispered, “I thought everything... but he still won’t… I just don’t know why he did it. I want to know why he pulled my papers. I feel like I’m stuck on this and I can’t just let it go… you’re staring at me, what?” 

You blinked, shaking your head. 

“Just listening is all, you know how I feel about this whole situation and how I’ve always felt. I’m frustrated for you.”

He hung it head and you both sat there in silence for a good amount of time, until Rooster slowly listed his head to meet your eyes. 

“Sunny?” he asked cautiously, your call sign pulling you out of your own head.

“Yeah?”

“...Do you know the reason your father pulled my papers?”

Your stomach twisted into knots. You absolutely knew, you had never let on that you knew, you never wanted Bradley to know that you knew this whole time. If you lied to him, he would know it, if you didn’t he would be heartbroken. You quickly went back and forth between telling him and not telling him.

“Sunny?”

You were sweating now, and you knew he knew. You had to tell him. You gently took his warm hands and looked away from the eyes you loved so much. 

“Yes, Rooster, I know…” you said quietly.

You felt his hands tense up in yours, and his breathing hitched. You looked up at his face and my god you wish you hadn’t. There was so much pain. You sighed. 

“I didn’t tell you because I know the reason is going to hurt you…” you whispered, “I wanted to tell you so bad…”

“Tell me now…” he demanded, his voice little above a whisper.

“Rooster…” you never called him Bradley directly anymore, just from habit, “before your mother died…” you began carefully, “she didn’t… she didn’t want you flying… she asked Maverick to watch out for you and she–” you were cut off by Bradley standing up suddenly and sharply. You could see a hardness on his face that you didn’t like, and you could see tears in his eyes from where you sat.

You broke his heart with the truth, like you knew you would. Regret filled every vein in your body. Now you know why your father never told him. He wouldn’t look at you, and your heart broke. You deserved it, this is why your dad said not to tell him and you did anyway. You were an idiot, and mentally you kicked your own ass in every way you could possibly think of.

“I have to go…” Rooster said, abrubtly.

"Roo--"

"You lied to me... all this time. You're no better than your father, Sunny..." he stabbed me with those words, his eyes drilling holes into my skull, and he left without another word, slamming the door on the way out.

You sat on your coffee table in silence, staring at the place where your best friend had just been sitting, and you began crying. This went on until you couldn't breathe for a good five minutes, and after you finally calmed yourself enough to shakily reached your hand into your pocket, you called your father. The phone rang twice before Maverick answered.

“Dad…" you rasped, "Rooster knows.” 

#rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader

[houdinicorbini]

"A fraction of who I used to be" Madhouse Mike x Reader Angst

It's been so long since I have written for this series so I wanted to try again! Trigger warnings: Spoilers, angst, slight cursing, mike has a breakdown Word count: 1509

“Mike, why do you insist on being an asshole everywhere you go?” You say, looking at the green ghost who huffs and crosses his arms. 

“I resent that statement.” He says, looking grouchy as he refuses to meet your eyes. 

“You can resent it all you like, but you can’t deny that you like to pick a fight every time we try to go somewhere.” You said, admittedly getting a little frustrated as you sat down beside him. 

“I don’t do it every time,” Mike says, trying to somewhat defend his poor and innocent soul. 

“9 out of 10.”

“Alright.”

You look down at Robyn’s phone that they had left by accident, thus leaving the angry ghost with you as you try to get to the bottom of why Mike acts the way he does. 

“I’ve seen you be incredibly kind to those you care for, but it seems you lose your temper so easily and fight, even when there’s no reason to.” You place a sympathetic hand on Mike’s shoulder, giving it a slight, but caring squeeze. 

You see his expression falter for a second as he makes no effort in removing your hand. Instead, the ghost hesitantly places his own hand over yours. 

“Y-You wouldn’t understand…” Mike says, in an attempt to change the subject, maybe he could distract you and a more interesting topic could be talked about instead. 

“Maybe not entirely, that doesn’t mean I won’t try to. But I do know that I’ll listen.” You tell him, giving his shoulder one more reassuring squeeze. 

You watch as he takes what seems to be a shaky breath before opening up to you. 

“Everyone seems to know more about me.. than me!” Mike said, frustration evident in his voice. “Why is it that I can find more about myself by going to a damn wiki than being able to actually remember!” 

Mike’s shoulders shook slightly due to many emotions; anger, confusion and sadness. Sad that he can’t remember much… that he can’t remember his one and only friend. 

And the rumor that he has heard about her, scares him deeply. Mike wanted to show rage towards Debbie for leaving him, for giving him the very thing that had turned this ghost into what he is now. 

Yet, much to his own dismay, the ghost couldn’t hate Debbie, no matter how hard he tried. Something he has definitely tried to do. 

Mike told you all of this, about how he wants to hate Debbie but can’t, the rumors, emotions, everything. You sat there and listened, not saying anything until he had everything off his chest and was ready to hear what you had to say. 

“I can only remember bits and pieces and all it mainly is, is me getting my stupid hat!” 

That’s when he turned towards you, your hand no longer on his shoulder because Mike had, minutes before, taken it into his hand for comfort. It did take energy for him to be able to feel your touch, but he didn’t care, especially right now. 

He wanted to hear what you had to say, hoping you could provide comforting words in his time of need. 

It took you a few seconds to figure out exactly how to word what you wanted to say. 

“You’ve been through a lot, Mike. I can only imagine what being stuck in that station for as long as you have, can do to someone” you spoke, giving his hand a slight squeeze before continuing. 

“I know you want to remember who you were, and maybe one day you will be able to. You deserve to figure out who you once were, Mike.” 

Your eyes hold sympathy for him, for your dear friend, lover. You truly want what is best for him, and you hope that very soon he will find what he needs. 

He’ll for sure have you by his side while he tries, that you know for certain, and you hope that Mike does too. 

“I get why you hide behind that mask you’ve created, but don’t you think it’ll create more problems for you in the future if you keep it up?” You ask, hoping he will understand why he can’t keep acting like a complete asshole just to cope and deflect. 

You watch as Mike falls silent after you say that. After you explain that he can’t keep falling back on that personality. 

You suddenly see his shoulders begin to shake as quiet sobs escape him. You freeze, unsure of what to do at that moment.  

He continues to cry as he grips your hand, pulling you a bit closer as he fails to keep himself from crying more. 

Before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as Mike lays his face onto your shoulder, still sobbing as the stress of everything starts barreling down on him. 

You carefully take your arms and place them on his back, patting it in a soft and soothing kind of way, hoping that while words may not work here, hopefully your actions will. 

Giving him a slight squeeze with your arms, you lay your head slightly on his, trying your best to give a comforting feeling. 

You think it has some positive results when you feel him tighten his arms around you as well. 

You go from soft pats to soothing rubs on his back. You don’t say anything, you just let him cry out whatever emotions he may be feeling. 

Sometimes the best thing you can do is let those emotions do what they need to. 

After some time, Mike slowly lets up on his crying, but he doesn’t let you go. He stays there for a couple of minutes, a part of him too scared to let go after he was so vulnerable. 

There’s only been a handful of people he’s been vulnerable around. This is the first time he’s been vulnerable around you. 

There was a part of him that felt like he’s done something that he can’t take back. Mike already cringes sometimes when he thinks back to when he sobbed in Robyn’s arms. 

He doesn’t want things to be weird between you two. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else…

“How are you feeling?” You ask, keeping your voice in a quiet tone. 

Mike gives a little sound in response that sounded like a bit of a grunt. 

“Thank you, Mike, for trusting me with that. I know it can be hard to open up, I’m glad you did though.” You smile softly while you say that, face still resting on top of your ghostly pal’s head. 

He goes quiet once more before you feel his arms tighten just ever so slightly. 

“Thank you for… listening…” Mike mumbles, slowly getting up and removing his face from your shoulder, though he is reluctant about it. 

“It’s no problem. I’m here if you ever need to talk again.” You say, not an ounce of a lie in your voice as you look into his eyes, that smile still there. 

He bashfully looks away, very embarrassed over what happened. 

Suddenly, in a blink of an eye. Mike is in that tiny form once more. 

“Damn it.” He says, hovering beside you. 

“I used too much energy.” The tiny orb in front of you says as he begins to lower himself in your lap. 

“You’re much more comfortable than one of these pillows….” He mutters as he gets comfortable. 

You have to hold back a laugh. He’s being so incredibly cute at the moment. 

Unfortunately, a knock interrupts this moment. 

“Yes?” You call out, curious as to who it might be, but you have a pretty good idea. 

“Hey, I think I might’ve left my phone, can I come in?” Robyn calls out, causing you to get up, after you place Mike in the safety of your arms. Not something he tried to fight anyway. 

You pick up the phone off the coffee table and head to the door, unlocking it and letting Robyn in. 

“Thank you!” Robyn says, taking the phone, very quickly noticing the madhouse that rests in your arms. 

“Why don't you come in?” You offer, stepping out of the way. “I can make some dinner and drive you guys back home after!” You suggest, not at all minding the extra guests for dinner. 

“Oh you don’t have to!” They say, not wanting to intrude at all, especially after them and Mike were already here earlier. 

“It’s no bother! I can’t just have you come back all this way without feeding you!” You say, a smile on your face. 

Robyn smiles and steps inside, the door closing behind them. “Well, if you insist!” They say, walking over to the couch. 

“Thank you.” Mike says quietly, so that only you can hear, glad you didn’t have him leave with Robyn the second they got here. 

“Anything for you.” You tell him, giving his cheek just the tiniest of boops with your finger. 

“Now, what shall I make for dinner?”

#cryptid crush #madhouse mike #madhouse #mike madhouse #cryptid crush x reader #x reader #madhouse mike x reader

[ficbrish]

The Perfect Bite

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 4th - Overstimulation]

[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood, gore, alcohol]]

Summary: Knowing pleasure sweetens the blood, Astarion primes Vistri for the perfect drink.

Takes place in Act I during the Underdark missions.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Vistri was lifting the curtain to Astarion’s tent when she caught Shadowheart's glare from across camp. She was getting so sick of them.

Hells, Shadow’s sigh silently said, You’re gonna make me cast restoration in the morning again, aren’t you?

Shrugging back at her with a, Whoops, sorry! Vistri ducked inside.

There he was. Waiting. Astarion had a smile on his face she knew not to trust.

But a look deep in his eyes told her she could.

“There you are, my eager little treat.” He let those last three words roll slowly off his tongue for emphasis. Each one punctuated as its own little song so they sounded like, “Eager. Little. Treat.”

There was a softness in his smirk. Vistri’s heart rushed with the blood she had to offer him.

She smiled playfully, “You’ve certainly set the stage for a promising evening.”

There was an open bottle of wine waiting to be passed between them. Astarion took a swig and offered it to her once she sat down across from him, “Picked it off a corpse.”

“How romantic,” Vistri took a sip too. It was rough on her throat, but at least it wasn’t vinegar.

He held up his hand and moved it across her vision with a slow wave as if to gesture something expansive, “The best I could do. For the best I’ve ever done.”

Vistri held his gaze while licking a little drop from the tip. Then she passed him the bottle, hoping he’d be able to taste her tongue upon his next drink. Leaning back on her elbows with a performative confidence she poked at his compliment, “Oh? The best you’ve ever done? Pray tell!”

“Just all the others were…” Astarion looked a little sad and drank. He swallowed and plastered a familiar mask over his face.

It made Vistri slow down and adjust hers.

She knew what the end of that sentence would be if it were coming from her own lips. All the others were merely another audience to please; people who purchased bits of her soul in the dark. Or in the middle of a crowded party…

“Not as fun?” she offered.

To which he smirked and said, “Exactly. And you, my sweet, are very fun.”

“Wait,” she sat forward, “Was that a genuine compliment?”

Astarion giggled, showing his fangs in his grin, “Is that so hard to fathom?”

Vistri grabbed the bottle back, her fingers purposely caressing his as she took it. Her eyes lowered, almost shutting from the impact of such a subtle touch. How it made her skin shiver and dance... The shock of it always hit her vacant shell of a system like steam on ice. She almost resented Astarion for how much power that gave him.

She drank deeply to stop herself from saying the wrong thing.

“I’m hurt,” he teased, “I thought we trusted each other.”

A sudden attack of laughter made Vistri almost spit out her wine.

“Oh now, that’s not very fair.”

“No!” Vistri continued laughing, “That’s not—We do!” Whatever it was reduced her to a doubled-over pile of cackles.

Watching her was contagious; Astarion started laughing too, “And now you’ve gone and spilled the wine!”

She tried to sit back up and apologized through her fit, “I can’t help it!”

“Did you, by any chance, happen to smoke a bit of Gale’s pipe before joining me?”

Vistri wiped her eyes and caught her breath, “Don’t worry, I would have invited you if I had. Actually, I think he’s a little miffed at me. I don’t know why though—” She interrupted herself laughing at a joke she suddenly came up with all on her own, “He doesn’t want to give me his pipe!”

She was absolutely ridiculous. Astarion couldn’t help but laugh at the way she wriggled and shook, filling his tent with pitchy sunlight as she squealed for breath. With a mischievous grin, he lunged at her and scooped her into his lap. Her laughter died down as she settled onto him, face to face.

With him so close in her vision, Vistri grew dizzy with every feature. She froze, waiting for any type of cue. His lips were right in front of hers, but they only kissed when they fucked. She was just here for another drink.

Her stomach flipped as he rolled his hips against hers, finding a better angle for them to brush against each other. Something between a purr and a growl rumbled low in Astarion's chest. 

“Tsk Tsk, you’ve got wine all over that shirt,” he observed in a low tone simmering with playful heat, “Might as well take it off.”

Vistri nodded, lifting her arms up for him to undress her. Astarion's fingers danced across her skin in bits and pieces of touch as he lifted it over her. She took note of every graze and bump, feeling every brush of his fingers and palms with as much detail as she could retain.

“That’s much better,” he smirked.

His big hands held her steady, flat against her bare back. Vistri was here explicitly to be prey to his predator, and yet she never felt safer, never more eager to let herself go. She tilted her head to the side, offering her neck.

To which he played the offended party, “Are you just here for a quick one, or did you come into my tent for an experience?”

Vistri couldn’t kiss the lips she kept staring at, so she traced them with a finger instead. Astarion closed his eyes and moaned. Then he kissed her fingertip.

And her palm.

And her wrist.

Vistri cupped his face in her hand once he let go of it. She couldn’t answer his question with the truth, but she didn’t want to lie either.

“I want to make you feel good," her fingers were snaking their way up into his curls even though she told them to stop, "To give you power.” 

Astarion almost looked genuinely happy. Vistri felt herself surrender completely to that spark in his eyes.

“You have quite a few ways of doing that. So let me ask you this, what did you enter my tent for?”

“A feast.”

Vistri finally let herself fall onto his lips. She leaned in, gently pressing into his soft skin as another part of her answer. “I want to sate every appetite you have. Ease every ache. To be the means to your happiness,” she admitted, punctuating each confession with another desperate kiss. She devoured him like she’d missed him for centuries, and he followed her lead.

“And what do you get out of it?” he asked breathlessly as he tore away.

You. “A whole lot of fun,” she grinned and winked.

The smile left his mouth, but not his eyes. “Face the other way,” he commanded.

Putty in his hands, Vistri turned around, tucking her back into his chest. He fit so neatly, like a shell. She closed her eyes for a moment to feel that familiar feeling Astarion was the only one to ever inspire. It was brand new to her in those first few moments when he’d tackled her to the ground, blade at her throat. His whole body wrapped around hers; she boiled over with excited rage. She felt full of something for the first time in gods know how long. Alive.

And here it was again. Here he was again, with his body wrapped around hers.

Astarion let his hands wander, fingering her waist like a lock and watching her squirm. Vistri could feel the oppressive force of his sanguine famine salivating against her back as palpably as his arousal. Both emanated from him in a titanic wave Vistri longed to drown under. She was eager to be lost at sea.

Monster at her back, her heart skipped as one of his hands caressed her throat. As he kissed the base of her neck, a stray moan escaped her restraints.

His other hand went lower, below her waist, “The way you give yourself to me so completely is intoxicating.”

With more kisses to the back of her neck, he whispered, “You always taste so good, but you taste the best with euphoria in your blood.”

His fingers began to undo the lacing on her trousers, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want. Don’t lie. I’ll taste it.”

Vistri was helpless, “I want your hands on me. I want you all over.”

His hands always ran a little cold. They felt so good against the heat he found between her legs.

“Gods you’re already soaking.”

Vistri’s breath hitched as he began to gently stroke her. He kissed the back of her head.

“That’s it,” he told her as she began to rock her hips against his finger, “That’s a good pet.”

Vistri cried out, and while adding a little pressure to her neck, he slid his finger inside her as a reward.

His name spilled from her lips, “Astarion.”

She’d never cried out his name so sweetly, and an ache tore through him. He rested his forehead against her back and a strained whine escaped him. He untangled from her neck to use both hands between her thighs. Vistri writhed and squirmed in his lap. She felt so good rubbing against his trousers, but he was desperate for her skin.

“Be a good pet and cum for me.”

She surprised him, “Work for it.”

“That’s a challenge I can certainly handle.”

“You’ll nev—Oooh!" Vistri couldn't finish speaking because her whole chest convulsed with staccato cries that his cloth tent had no hopes of containing, "Nev… Never—Ah!” 

“You can let go,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got you.”

Her pleasure practically roared out of her. He could feel her start to pulse and tighten over his hands. Astarion didn’t ease his prancing fingers, even as she tapered off. He kept going until every bit of her little death ebbed away. Until she wriggled with the loud shout of his touch against her spent parts.

And she didn’t want him to stop. Vistri rocked her hips against his stroke, fighting through the jagged sensation of too much until she found ache and longing there too. “Again,” she begged.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “I can stop.”

“Don’t you dare… Unless you want to!”

“I don’t want to stop.”

Vistri reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling it just enough to sting without any real pain. In a gesture of surrender, she opened her thighs a little wider.

She called out his name, repeating it over and over as the tight feeling built and built and built until it burst apart again. This time, his hands stopped with her ecstasy. He slid his fingers out of her and lingeringly trailed them up her slit in one slow stroke, until his fingertip met her overspent clitoris. Her whole body twitched as he teased its head. Passing over it slightly one way, and then the other.

“I could stop now,” Astarion began, “Or…” He paused for effect and continued, “Or I can have you die in my arms until you sob from it.”

Vistri turned her face towards his, “Kiss me.”

Astarion jumped at the chance. Every bone in his body was aching for her, especially the one throbbing between his legs. His lips found purchase, and his tongue reached for hers. He could taste the blood under her skin.

The expression in his eyes had to be wild. Lust and bloodlust. Vistri met it with affection instead of fear. Every soiled part of his soul was exposed, and she licked up every bit of ugly like it was something sweet to be savored. He had to repay her the only way he knew how. Through teasing and pleasing until he turned her into shreds of herself. Scattered parts he’d hold all together for her to come back into, whole.

So his hands stayed below her belt, and he worked at his promise. Until they lost track of how many times she came. Until every nerve ending was cursing his name. Until his fingers started to prune.

Vistri was a little embarrassed by the way she lost herself once totally spent. Tears in her eyes, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling any sort of craving again, but then she turned back around.

Heat sat on Astarion’s face like the most delicious thing to ever exist.

Her mouth gratefully dove into his, and he moaned. She teased the tip of her tongue against his before biting his lip. When he smiled, she gently licked along one of his fangs and it was his turn to shiver.

“Do you like that, dearest?” Vistri asked, knowing already that he really, really did. It always drove him crazy. She just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, his calculated charm having flown away.

His fangs and his ears were both so sensitive. And Vistri licked his other fang before kissing all over his ear and whispering into it, begging him to bite her.

“Get undressed and lie on your back,” he whined through the sensations.

Vistri’s heart pounded in anticipation of his bite. She felt greedy, wanting more. Wanting his teeth in her skin, his tongue on her neck as he swallowed every drop.

They admired each other’s naked form, and then Vistri got down on the floor.

“Take as much as you want from me,” she told him as he settled over her.

Astarion kissed her deeply, pressing his body into hers.

“Why are you so generous with me?” he asked. The expression in his eyes looked like old wounds.

Vistri caressed his cheek. Moments like these, when the mask slipped, he really came out from underneath everything. Buried under layers of dirt, she’d catch these glimpses of him.

And he was the most beautiful fucking thing she’d ever seen.

“Because you inspire me to be generous,” she said.

He sunk his cock into her before his teeth. One entry followed by another. It was so deeply intoxicating, his hunger threatened to take control.

Astarion tore himself away after a few sips, remarking with a bloody mouth, “You are…”

She put her fingers to his red lips, playing with her blood and painting him with it, “You should take more.”

He paused, ceasing his thrusts but not pulling out. “Are you sure?” he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I feel amazing,” she assured him, “And I know you could feel better. So take it.”

Vistri whimpered a little as she squeezed the wound on her neck so more blood poured out. His tongue flew to it, and she moaned his name again as he drank.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she said, “Just take until I say so.”

Astarion gave in. Completely. His mind felt like it expanded as he drank, and the feeling of her underneath him became more and more colorful and alive.

Vistri never wanted him to stop, but promised him she wouldn’t let him go too far. She grabbed his face and called his name to bring him back. His mouth was so red it was almost black when he stopped drinking and asked if she was still okay.

“I’m great,” she said a little weaker than before, “Are you okay?”

His eyes were wild, “I feel amazing.”

“Kiss me, Astarion.”

“But I…” he protested, his mouth dirty with her blood.

“I want all of it,” she said, “I want to taste myself in your mouth.”

“You’re… sure?”

“Please,” she begged.

A wide smile spread over his face that he molded into a smirk. “Oh, you lovely little freak,” he teased before meeting her mouth again.

He tasted like Astarion and an overwhelming amount of copper. Vistri flinched from it and leaned hungrily into it at the same time. She always wanted to remember the taste of her blood in his mouth. A snapshot she could always carry as a secret treasure in her heart no matter what came next.

Astarion reached his climax as he tangled his tongue with Vistri’s, and he took her along with him. They moaned and whined into each other’s mouths as pleasure wracked over them. Relief came to Astarion in every sense, and Vistri’s body ached with ecstasy it couldn’t take any more of.

They steadied each other in their arms after riding it out together. She felt lightheaded and he was shaking with power.

Vistri thanked him, “That was perfect.”

He laughed, “Your face is a bloody mess.”

She laughed too, “As is yours!”

He kissed her one last time, before it was too late and not allowed anymore.

“Wash me off? I can’t look in the mirror.”

Vistri giggled, “Of course I will.”

“Thank you,” Astarion said, squeezing her hand.

He stood up first, then helped her. Vistri wasn’t too steady on her feet as they got dressed. When Astarion noticed, he made her sit back down.

“You didn’t let me go too far, did you?” he asked with true concern.

Vistri waved off his worry, “Oh, don’t fret about that! Shadow’s gotten really good at restoration magic.”

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

#vistarion #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober list #promt fill #vistri #astarion #balders gate 3 #full fic #astarion x tav #perfect bite fic #BrishFics #smut #lemon

[chknbzkt]

Even more Ruin spoilers under the cut:

I had a massive brain moment about how Moon and Sun’s virus works, how it affects them both and how it’s managed to isolate them from the rest of the bots and each other!

I’m thinking back on Moon’s dialogue, just how spiteful and angry at Sun he is, it’s far more obvious than in Security Breach because he’s too busy to playing cat and mouse with Gregory to really elaborate further. And of course Sun is obviously Not pleased at the idea of letting Moon out at all, Moon clearly has a reputation for doing… something. Perhaps many somethings, who knows

But god, “no more light, no more Sun,” that’s far more forthright when it comes to the pure resentment that seems to have considerably worsened since SB. And the tables have finally turned, with Sun out in the same position of helplessly watching as his counterpart runs the show, powerless to change much save for the occasional lapse in control when Moon is flashed with a sufficiently strong light source (alternatively, the VANNI mask lets you approach the DA as a whole even while unfettered so long as you don’t take it off, and Sun is clearly stuck in alternate reality while Moon is off his entire rocker).

That constant loop. The Daycare Attendant isn’t just one entity, it’s two (now THREE but that comes after the fact). The Vanny Virus can’t just aim for one at a time, the other can take over and possibly fix them both.

So it had to get creative. Turn them against each other.

First it chose Sun, actually.

I am fully in the ballpark that Sun is also infected, he’s just affected in a way that isn’t straight up aggressive physically, but rather behaviorally. It starts out subtle. Heightened awareness but with an added touch of robo-anxiety and a strange new penchant for poking and prodding at people out of mistrust. It’s a slippery slope that gives way to an avalanche further down the line, you’ll see.

It chose Moon’s head to gradually worm it’s way into next, seizing him at opportune moments during naptime all of a sudden and retreating just as fast so he couldn’t retaliate and right himself. Build Moon a reputation as the dark and scary one, which he sadly already had even before his infection. Lean into it. Make it worse.

It’s hard to explain yourself and your actions to the increasingly testy bestie that literally lives inside your head when the thing causing you to act this way falls away and leaves you wondering if you really did intend on dropping little Darla from the balcony into the ball pit. The virus weeds into your mind and makes you feel okay with doing things you never would have otherwise.

But of course, that’s when the virus starts really amping up and finding ways to make Sun feel justified in his flimsy convictions and eventually plunge off the deep end into a spiral of conspiracies and unhinged ramblings. It ends up being horrifyingly effective when coupled with Moon’s rapidly deteriorating mental state.

He’s a thousand times more volatile and very quick to sever trust, Gregory my guy didn’t even do anything and my man Sun is pointing fingers to find someone, something, ANYTHING to blame for things going wrong around him he’s just that paranoid and out of his gourd.

That’s how the virus got him. Severe mania and trust issues out the wazoo. He’ll be cordial and nice sure thing, but you Must. Obey. His Rules. No exceptions. Even if you don’t technically do a thing wrong, if anything bad happens, Sun is quick to jump to the corkboard laden with sticky notes in his brain and somehow find somebody to pin blame on, regardless if the justification has any weight 💀

There is no three strikes with Sun. You get one (1) ☝🏽 chance, that’s it.

I also realized something really sad… how long prior to Security Breach had Moon been locked away inside Sun’s head? And how much longer after we turn the lights back on, at least until he breaks free again come Ruin? Idc how far gone you are under the Vanny Virus, being held a prisoner inside your own mind cannot possibly be good for the brain box

But the thing is… Sun thought in his virus-addled state that what he was doing was good for both of them. It’s only a matter of time before Moon straight up kills someone acting more and more Like That, so at some point one of Moon’s ‘mishaps’ ends up being the straw that breaks the camel’s back and he goes out of his way to ensure Moon can’t hurt anyone anymore. Nevermind that Moon needs him more than anyone at that point in time.

That’s how the negative feedback loop started. The Vanny Virus made them hate each other, and slowly but surely enlarged the rift between them.

And things escalate the longer the DA goes unchecked.

Sun is terrified for his counterpart, but also for himself. The virus takes advantage of that by giving him this holier-than-thou complex that makes him feel absolutely sure things are better this way, he knows best, Trust No One, they could get scrapped after all! He’s protecting them. He’ll do anything to keep them safe.

Moon is further pressed upon by the virus, unmitigated by Sun’s former assurances and comforting presence as he recedes, ravaged by the virus and eventually becoming the monster the kids (and now Sun ffs) believes him to be. He’s so cripplingly lonely and antsy locked inside their mind. He yearns to be free, he’s angry he’s being pointedly ignored, and come Ruin he’s determined to show Sun how alone and isolated he’s felt for months (maybe longer!!!!)

I have Thoughts about Ruin’s portrayal of Eclipse, but it’s clear that they are brand spanking new to the DA’s shared body and mind, so they get a separate post,,

-

I hope this post reads well, I’ve cut and pasted things and moved so much shit around that I fear readability is out of the question, but this has been in my drafts for days and I neeeed somebody to see the inner machinations of my mind on that daycare bitch, ok

#ruin spoilers #fnaf ruin spoilers #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #bzkt spkz #IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS #IVE CONNECTED THEM #GRAGHHHHHH