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#i Will now proceed to go to sleep and disappear
writing-for-life · 1 day
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Dream’s Therapist
Insomnia
I have prepared for the session by pulling up the notes from the intake.
The client is very punctual again, albeit only 15 minutes early this time. I have made sure that my office is not too bright since this seemed to have caused a certain amount of discomfort during our intake session.
Like the previous time, he will not take off his coat, and he does not engage in friendly smalltalk at the beginning of the session. My remark about the terrible weather brings up, “You have no idea what terrible weather is,” or some such like, and I begin the session without further ado.
DT: I would like to start today’s session with examining your current sleeping habits, since you hinted you were suffering from insomnia during your intake.
Dream: Sleep eludes me. But truth be told, I do not have any need for sleep. I inspire, and I have dreams and nightmares to create.
DT: And why do you think that is?
Dream (I notice a certain annoyance in the way he leans forward in his chair): It is my purpose and my function. And I am quite certain I told you this the last time. (I notice the wish to be perceived). As I have already pointed out: I weave dreams and stories. But lately, I have been feeling... uninspired.
DT: Uninspired? Are you feeling particularly stressed?
(I notice he is still rather enamoured with the paperweight on my desk. He proceeds staring at it without replying).
Would you like to hold it?
Dream (I notice his eyes dart towards me, and he looks at me for a moment with rather wet eyes): May I?
DT: Sure.
(I notice the way he picks up the paperweight and then holds on to it not unlike a pre-schooler would engage with a stuffed animal. I decide to carefully explore childhood nighttime memories)
DT: Tell me about your childhood. Did you have a teddy when you were little, or a favourite stuffy that you took to bed at nighttime?
Dream (deadpan): I am the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. Stuffies are beneath my notice. (I might have hit a sore spot since he puts the paperweight back on the desk rather unceremoniously)
DT: Have you always believed you are a cosmic entity?
Dream (I notice the way he sharply exhales through his nose): I do not believe I am a cosmic entity. I am Dream of the Endless. I walk the realms of imagination and story, and I conjure dreams and nightmares. How often will I need to repeat myself?
DT (I notice the wish to be perceived again): I am aware of your beliefs. Do you think that all of these… responsibilities are a bit much and might be the cause of your lack of sleep? And before we go any deeper, let me quickly check in: Have you tried the usual, like counting sheep or a warm glass of milk?
Dream (I notice a degree of exasperation): It is usually I who sends sheep to dreamers, even to the ones who would rather opt to count lost socks, and milk is for mortal stomachs. Strictly speaking, your kind shouldn’t even drink cow’s milk, but not to get too involved in human delectations. That is to say (he leans forward in his chair again and gives me a piercing stare): I exist beyond such trivialities.
(The delusion seems to run deeper than I imagined, but I decide to stay on the topic of insomnia for today’s session. A better sleep schedule certainly won’t do any harm and will aid in tackling the deeper issues.)
DT: During our last session, you briefly mentioned that you have commitment issues (I notice he looks at the paperweight again). Take it, please.
(I notice his eyes turn wet once more, and I will need to get to the bottom of why a paperweight made of rose quartz creates such a strong reaction in him, but not right now. He takes the paperweight and this time, he lets it disappear in his coat pocket. I decide to ignore the attempted theft for now).
Is it possible that your problems with commitment extend to other areas of your life? Like committing to a sleep schedule?
Dream (I notice a degree of confusion that seems to morph into annoyance): I assure you, I am extremely committed to my realm. I do not shirk my responsibilities and adhere to… rules meticulously.
DT: I don’t doubt it. Do you avoid the bed?
Dream (He straightens in his chair and looks me dead in the eye. I notice his pupils have dilated considerably, which suggests sympathetic innervation/a surge of adrenaline): No. However, I do not peruse it to… sleep. (I notice he is not sitting still as a statue anymore. His legs are crossed, and his supporting leg is engaged in a tapping motion originating in his foot)
DT (I try not to linger on the uncomfortable silence that is only interrupted by the slight squeaking of the sole of his boot and the accompanying tapping): Did you ever try a bedtime routine that is more to your liking than counting sheep? Warm bath? Reading? Chamomile tea?
Dream (I notice teeth grinding): Chamomile tea tastes like mortal tears.
DT: And smells like urine, not keen myself (I notice a fleeting facial expression I cannot quite place. His mouth twitches). Are you open to suggestions?
Dream (I notice slight hesitation, and I decide to shrug my shoulders and smile. Daring move. He furrows his brow): You may… suggest.
DT: I think journaling might be helpful for a while to see what keeps you from sleeping. Write down whatever comes to mind, from what you have experienced during the day to what you’ve eaten.
Dream: I do not eat.
DT: You do not?
Dream: Well, sometimes I do, but… (He seems to contemplate something for a moment). No matter, I shall… write.
DT (I sense a basic degree of cooperation, which is a start): All day, but especially around bedtime. We can use it the next time and see if we spot any patterns. It might also be helpful with the topic of emotion processing.
Dream (I note he engages in his habitual nose-bridge-pinching, and he closes his eyes. I am fairly certain he is also rolling them behind closed lids, and I wonder if his cooperation has just disappeared into thin air): I already told you I do not “feel”. It is a…
DT: Quaint human invention? Like love?
Dream (I notice his eyes open at alarming speed. He looks annoyed for a moment. He then quirks one eyebrow): You have paid attention to my words after all.
DT: Did you expect me not to?
Dream (I notice uncertainty): Perhaps.
DT: Then why are you here?
Dream (I notice a facial expression that hints at confusion): I… because I respect your… delusional expertise.
DT (I am not certain if that is a compliment or an insult and decide to pay no heed): That does not answer the question though, or at least not in its entirety. Because this is not about my expertise, is it?
Dream (He leans forward in his seat): What is it about then?
DT (I notice he is trying to engage in subversion tactics): You.
Dream (I notice he flinches and immediately leans back again. His eyes are wet, and he does not speak. I decide to give the silence space.
The silence lasts for 12 minutes. One needs to be able to sit with the discomfort on occasion.
He stands up all of a sudden): I trust our time is up?
DT: No.
Dream: Good, I shall leave then.
DT (I notice the same pattern to end the session as the last time. He begins to walk out): Are you going to keep that?
Dream (He turns around): Keep what?
DT: My paperweight.
Dream (I notice he looks flustered and reaches into his coat pocket.): My apologies. (He hesitantly comes back and places the paperweight back on my desk.)
DT: No harm done, we all forget things from time to time.
Dream (I notice he lifts his chin and seems affronted): I do not forget things. Ever.
DT: Well, you just did.
Dream: I… (I notice he blinks thrice in quick succession) Same time next week?
DT (I notice the reversed initiative compared to our last session and choose to reply accordingly): Yes, let us pencil it in.
Dream: You may use ink…
< Previous Session
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rurifangirl · 18 days
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You see catboy ruri on your timeline
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You agree . Reblog
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seospicybin · 3 months
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FOLDER 103.
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sleep_well.mp4
Bangchan x reader. (S)
A chapter of Folder 103
Synopsis: Chan figures that it's his lucky day when he finds you sleeping naked. (3,6k words)
Author's note: Just something to keep you horny hehe I know you'll enjoy this one x
For Chan, every day is a lucky day with you.
With tons of work always keeping him busy, it's not easy for him to finally have time to spend with you. So tonight, as he's finally able to leave work earlier than he usually does, Chan knows that it's his lucky day.
Even though he knows there'll be no guarantee you'd still be awake when he gets to your place, he considers himself lucky still.
The two of you were still texting an hour ago but with his two last messages left unread only means that you're most likely to have fallen asleep.
Chan lets himself in, tiptoeing his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water before going to the bedroom and finding that you're indeed asleep.
"Baby, I'm home," he lowly whispers and allows himself to place a quick kiss on your head.
He then heads to the bathroom to wash up and change his clothes, then slips into the sleeping attire of a boxer and bare upper body.
He makes sure to keep quiet in everything he does, not wanting to wake you from your slumber knowing that you've just had a tiring day at work. He doesn't know for sure but that's what he feels after getting off work just now.
Somehow, all of exhaustion and weariness seem to magically disappear when he sees your face and it truly feels like he's coming home.
Chan quietly climbs onto the bed and going to slip under the cover with you when he realizes that you're naked underneath.
The two of you have talked about this and it's something you both agreed on before. Going to bed naked is a sign that you consented to engage in sexual activity, sleeping or not.
In other words: it really is Chan's lucky day.
Does this surprise him? No, because it's not the first time that you've done this but it surprises him still. Why? Because here you are, sleeping with your body bare naked and fully entrusting yourself to him in your most vulnerable state.
It's the way you trust him that makes Chan feel loved in a whole different way and that earned you a special place in his heart that no one ever comes close to.
And for that, Chan places a long, lingering kiss on your forehead until his heart bursts with how much emotion he puts into it.
Chan proceeds to go under the cover and lay next to you, carefully resting his hand on your waist. He uses the opportunity to look at your face as long as he pleases, so still and peaceful, unaware of how beautiful you look as you are lost in your dream.
"My baby," he sighs as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
"My beautiful, beautiful baby," he emphasizes every word with such love, along with a sweet peck on your lips.
He lets his hand wander as he keeps whispering sweet praises to you. His hand wades your silky skin and makes ripples in your insides.
"So soft, baby," he murmurs with his mouth pressed against the column of your neck.
"How are you so fucking soft all over, mmh?" He asks in disbelief and a sharp intake of breath.
Feeling you is not enough, he wants to see his hand on you. Chan pulls the cover away, exposing your naked body to the chill night air and raising the goosebumps on your skin. He notices and hurriedly rubs his hand down your arms.
"I'll keep you warm, mmh," he mutters with another peck on your lips.
Before he forgets, he takes his phone and starts recording, the camera follows his hand as he explores your miles and miles of soft skin.
He begins from your lips, gliding his thumb over your lower lip. He can't wrap his head around the fact that he can kiss these lips as much as he wants.
He glides his hand down to your neck and carefully wraps his hand around it, he likes how it looks like it belongs there. But that's something he can do another time.
Only using his fingertips, Chan drags them down your chest and rubs over your nipple, watching it harden as he keeps circling on it.
His eyes flick to see your face as you draw a sharp breath and your hand flies to the side of the pillow, still soundly asleep.
A part of him wants to wake you up, wanting to see how you react to his touches and oh, he just wants to hear the noises you make whenever he touches you right.
Another part of him is enjoying this too much but if he wants to continue this, he's aware that he shouldn't disturb your sleep.
He lets out a delightful sigh as he takes in the sight of your heavenly body that he never gets tired of seeing, of touching, of feeling, a body that reminds him that he is the luckiest man.
"Oh, I'm so lucky," he sighs with so much contentment.
Chan glides his hand lower to your abdomen, holding his breath as his hand inches closer to that delicate thing between your legs. Then slowly, he parts your legs open.
He instantly drools at the sight of your ripe cunt making his cock act up in its confine, aching to be inside you. He tells himself to be patient and uses his hand first to feel how tender you are.
It's amazing that even though you're sleeping, your body is fully awake and responding to his touches. He can feel that you're getting wet just from him running his fingers between your folds.
"Mmh, yeah, make it wet for me, baby," his voice drops lower than before.
Once in a while, he checks his phone to see if he gets everything in video. You know how he likes to take videos of you, especially these kinds of videos that always help him cure his longing whenever he can't see you.
After a while, he stops recording and puts his phone aside.
Chan slowly turns your body so you can comfortably lay on your back as he kneels on the bed.
This time, he replaces his hand with his lips, exploring your skin by dragging his plush lips down and around, warm and wet, hot and cold at once. He covers every inch of your skin with small kisses, from your neck down to your ankle.
He picks up his phone again, using the front camera to film himself kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, and eventually your breasts.
Chan kisses the skin around the hardening buds before taking them into his mouth in turns. Using his tongue and teeth to play with them, then leaves them wet from his saliva.
He hits the pause button on the video as he slumps down onto the space between your legs and hits the record button again.
He films himself kissing your inner thighs and from there, going down to your sex where he traces your clit with his tongue and then kisses it.
It's a smell and a taste that is way too familiar to him and they always make him go feral, never get enough of both.
Chan curves his big arms around your thighs and dives deeper into your wetness, lapping his tongue on your slit repeatedly.
He can see that your breathing is quickening in response to his stimulation and it lets him know that he's doing the right thing.
It feels like a feast to him so Chan opens his mouth wider to take more of you, licking and sucking, enjoying himself in eating you out.
He's aware that you're stirring in your sleep but nothing he does wakes you up so he proceeds to the next thing which is his swollen cock.
But first, he has to get rid of his boxer and let his erection spring free. He then settles himself between your legs again and makes a new video.
"So hard for you, baby," he sighs as he gives his cock a few pumps before running it down your drenched cunt.
His teeth faintly bite his lower lips as he suppresses the urge to jam his cock inside you in this very second.
"Fuck, I'm so impatient to be inside you," he groans.
Using the tip of his cock, he circles your clit and then taps on it. His cock is now drenched in your essence and he expects nothing less than that.
To make sure you're ready for him, Chan inserts his finger to check and adds another finger to help stretch you out for the next thing.
"Mmh, so tight, yes..." he breathlessly gasps, making his throat dry from how thirsty he is for you.
He slowly pulls the two digits out and doesn't hesitate to shove them into his mouth so he can have a taste of you.
"Sweet as you, my angel," he murmurs.
Chan gives his cock a few more strokes before aiming right into your entrance, he checks his phone again and makes sure it's still filming.
With his hand gripping your hips to hold you still, Chan slowly pushes his length inside you. He watches his cock disappear into you little by little through his phone.
"God, fuck, oh..." all sorts of profanity and taking the divine beings in vain are spilling out of his mouth.
He had sex countless times with you but gosh, it always feels this good, every single time. The way your velvety walls welcomed him and wrapped around him, there's nothing like it.
"Oh, oh..." he hisses and groans, sometimes a mix of two as he keeps pushing the remaining length of his cock into you.
He hears you letting out a low sigh and abruptly stops moving to check on you.
"Just a little bit more, okay baby?" He mutters to you as his hand tenderly rubs your abdomen.
He doesn't know why he bothers talking to you when you're not even awake to talk back to him.
"I know you can take a little bit more," he murmurs, then pushes the rest of his length into you.
He grips at your hips again once he fully bottomed out inside you. He can't move without feeling like he's about to shoot his load at any moment.
He takes a minute to calm down, reorganizing his breathing and rubbing his hand up and down your thigh.
"How do you always feel this good, baby?" He sighs in wonder.
It arouses him so much at how still you are with his cock deep inside you and most likely, about to fill you with his cum. That thought only gets him off instead of calming him down.
After taking a few deep breaths, Chan finally dares to move. He moves his hips, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace.
The quiet resides in the room except for the low rustles of the sheets, the sound of Chan's fervent breathing, and the suppressed grunts he keeps behind his gritted teeth.
Seeking more depth, Chan picks up your legs and wraps them around his waist. He slightly hoists the lower half of your body against him so he can thrust deeper into you.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," the profanity keeps falling out of his mouth with each thrust.
He switches between looking at your face and down at his cock slips in and out of you, arousing him even more. He grips your thighs, thrusting harder into you and going as shallow as he could.
Chan is so lost in it, losing his head and all of his senses, making him nothing but a man who's hungry for pleasure and you're the only one who can provide it.
He can feel himself so immersed in the pleasure that his phone slips out of his hand and falls onto the bed, he doesn't even care if it's still recording or not. He just wants to keep fucking you, more and more.
"Fuck, so good!" He says through his parted mouth with his head thrown to the back.
He doesn't realize that he is supposed to not wake you up and abruptly stops when he hears you lowly whimpering with your hands clutching the sides of your pillow.
He hurriedly lowers himself down and hastily kisses your lips with his upper lips coated with a sheen of sweat.
"Did I go too rough, baby?" He meekly asks with his lips only inches away from yours.
He holds your jaw and kisses you more as his apology, "I didn't mean to wake you up," he says.
He moves to the other side of your head, pressing kisses on your neck and trying to make up for waking you up.
"You just feel too good I don't know how to stop," he mutters into your ear.
He doesn't even know if you're awake but he feels the need to apologize to you. He keeps kissing you to calm himself down and when he's sure you're falling back to sleep, he slowly pulls out of you.
Carefully, he maneuvers your body and makes you lay on your side as he lies next to you. He touches you again, sending you deeper into your slumber.
However, his cock is just aching to be inside you again and he indeed wants to continue, he wants to finish, and he still wants you.
He grabs your chin and turns your head at him so he can press a kiss on your lips.
"Promise I'll be gentle this time," he tells you with yet another kiss on the skin behind your ear.
He bends your leg, giving him the access to easily slip his cock into you again. He lets out a hoarse sigh when his cock is fully buried inside you.
"Too good," he mutters with his mouth pressed against your shoulder.
"You're always too good," he mutters again.
Chan cups your ass cheek in his hand, kneading on the flesh as he starts moving, bucking his hips from behind you. He wouldn't hesitate to land a few slaps on it but that's for another time.
It doesn't take long for him to find his rhythm, thrusting into you and picking up where he left it. He pulls your leg higher as he launches his cock deeper into you.
"Oh, I like it here, baby," he says, accidentally sucking on the skin on your shoulder.
From how hard he grips the back of your thigh, Chan knows that his nails dug into the flesh and will probably leave marks on the skin.
He just can't seem to think straight when his head is filled with nothing but how good to be inside you.
Again and again, he fails to keep his composure and wakes you again. This time you're whimpering and moaning at the same time.
"Do you mind if I keep going, baby?" He asks you with his grunt getting in between the words.
You say nothing but stifle a nod in answer and crumple the sheet under your hand.
"Want to fill you," he pauses as he pushes his cock deep into you and makes you whine in response.
"Want to fill you with my love," he says again.
Your hand finds the hand holding your leg and rests it on top of his hand while your head turns to the back and Chan instantly captures your lips in a passionate kiss.
Chan takes your hand and clasps it together with his, putting it close to your heart as he keeps chasing his high with his lips latched with yours.
The room is now filled with both of your shared noises of breathless moans and the smooching sounds of your sloppy kisses.
"A little bit more," he tells you with eyes screwed shut and his mind is close to short-circuit.
"So fucking close," he grunts, planting his lips on your shoulder.
It feels like his whole body is lit on fire but instead of running away, Chan keeps walking toward that flickering, flaming burst of orange.
The next thing he knows, his head blows and he bites at your shoulder as he cums. He keeps pushing his cock into you, wanting to plant his seed deep inside you as his hand rubs your abdomen.
"Take all of me, baby," he whispers into your ear.
He repeatedly kisses your neck only to whisper again, "Take all of my love."
He places a few more kisses on your back shoulders and more sweet nothings are out of his mouth, "Just for you, baby, only for you."
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, coming down from the high and sharing loving kisses in between. Chan lovingly puts your hair away to place sweet little kisses on your jaw, "You can go back to sleep now," he says.
With his cock stays inside, he puts his arm around you and draws you closer. He's cuddling you back to sleep, lulling you with his low breathing and soft kisses.
Not long after that, he finds you sleeping in his embrace and holding his hand close to your chest. He gives you one last kiss on the lips and lets you drift into sleep.
"Goodnight, angel."
-
The first thing you see in the morning is Chan's dark curls and you find it hard to move away when he rests his head on your chest.
You peer down to see that he's sleeping so tight that you feel bad to even think of waking him up so you let him. What's another hour of letting him rest on your chest?
However, when you put your arm around to cuddle him, your fingers nudge something on the bed. You reach for it and take it out from under the cover to see that it's Chan's phone.
You're aware of what he did to you last night, how he fucked you while you were sleeping, and muttered a few things that you can't remember clearly.
It's something you both agreed on so you don't mind feeling sore in the morning and it wouldn't surprise you if you find bruises or bite marks on you.
"You had fun last night, huh?" You mutter at his face and boop his nose.
He looks so adorable with his curls and bare face, sleeping on your chest like a toddler. You can't help but kiss him while brushing the cute duck tails on the back of his head.
"My big baby," you sigh in delight.
Shifting your focus back on his phone, you unlock it to see a video and again, you're not surprised to know that he filmed everything last night.
You check his gallery and he took plenty of videos, the first two are of him touching you and the other two are of him sucking on your breasts and giving you head.
Watching yourself get touched and stimulated without your knowing is kind of arousing, not going to lie.
With your hand still playing with his soft curls, you hit play on the video and it starts with a shot of his cock, then he wrapped his veiny hand around it.
That cock and that hand, and how they're in the right sizes, whoo... never cease to amaze you.
You skip a few minutes on the video to the part where he was thrusting into you, you can hear his low grunts through the phone speaker.
Seeing how he fucked you from something close to his point of view oddly turns you on. Then suddenly, the video turns black but you can hear rustling sounds.
You think the video has ended but you see that there are a few minutes left in the video. You jump into the last ten minutes.
"Take all of me, baby."
"Take all of my love."
"Just for you, baby, only for you."
"You can go back to sleep now, baby."
"Goodnight, angel."
Your memory is kind of blurry but yeah, you still remember him saying those things to you, even the goodnight kiss he placed on your lips and the rest after that, you can't recall.
You hear more rustles in the video and you bring it close to your ear to hear the faint sound of Chan talking to you.
"I love you, baby."
"Thank you for letting me have you the way I want."
"Thank you for trusting me."
"Oh, I love you so much."
"I don't want to be with anyone else."
"You're just perfect."
"You're perfect for me."
You hear kissing sounds in between those sentences and you bet, he does a lot more than that.
"I am the luckiest."
You hear his overwhelmed sighing at the end of that sentence and then it's dead silence. You're about to turn the video off when you hear Chan's voice again.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
Your heart aches in the best way possible to know that someone loves you that much. Despite that you both are always busy with your respective jobs which keep you away from each other, your relationship continuously flourishes and grows.
It wouldn't be possible if Chan wasn't such a good man and very loving. To say that you're lucky to have him would be an understatement.
You are the luckiest to have him.
"And I'm so lucky to have you," you murmur with a kiss on his forehead.
There's no better way to prove that than showing it with actions, you open the camera on his phone and hit the record button.
-
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771 notes · View notes
miniwheat77 · 3 months
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Heartbeat. (Mean!Captain Price x Reader.)
!smut, captain price being a meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, non con , proceed with caution, you’ve been warned!
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You roll your eyes as you sit down at the table in the mess hall, finally able to eat dinner.
Two hours after dinner was held.
Soap sits down next to you, looking at you in sympathy. “You must’ve done something to get on his bad side in the beginning.” He laughs. You mutter under your breath. “I’ve literally done everything under the sun for him. Pretty much the only thing I haven’t done is drop to my knees and suck him off at this point. Don’t know what the hell else I can do to prove myself.” You grumble. Eating your cold dinner. Soap laughs. “He’s not normally like that. I don’t know what it is about you lass but it’s just rubs him the wrong way.” He laughs. You sigh. “Yeah. My burning arms from the hundred push ups would agree.” You groan. Soap laughs.
“He’ll get over it eventually.”
“He better, or I’m gonna ask for a transfer.” You groan. “Don’t blame you. I’ve never seen him act like that before.” He laughs, standing up. “You’ll be alright. He’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe he’s got a crush and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
You laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. I am quite the catch.” You smirk. Making Soap roll his eyes.
“Don’t go getting a big head.” You shove him with your foot as he starts to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.”
“Night MacTavish!”
He disappears out of the mess hall, and you’re left completely alone.
A sigh leaves your lips. “Y/N, my office. Now.” You hear your Captains voice come through your radio. Making you groan. You stand up, throwing away your cold dinner. It wasn’t good anyways. Not even a microwave would save it. You brush yourself off making your way down the hallways to his office. You turn the corner, feet patting against the tiled floor. You walk up to his office. Taking a deep breath before you knock. “Come in!” He calls. You open the door up, stepping inside. You know better than to just walk in. “You called for me?”
“Yeah, you’re covering watch for Gaz.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “Is he alright?” You ask. His eyes flash up to your face, it’s a warning.
You back off of the subject, you’ll just ask Gaz for yourself. “Anything else Captain?” You ask. He says nothing. You turn away, walking out the door. You’re irritated. You made your way for the watch tower. He always made you cover for everyone. You’re lucky if you ever get any sleep anymore.
This continues on for weeks. He takes his anger out on you. He’s not nice to you. It’s gotten so bad that the other members of the task force have had to step between the two of you. It’s the only time he’ll ever back off. It’s a particularly bad night. You’ve just gotten off of your watch and you’re exhausted. He calls you to his office to cover the watch immediately after yours. You explain that you’ve already covered two watches and you’re tired, which he doesn’t like.
“My office Y/N.”
You groan, passing by Soap as you make your way for his office. “Good luck.”
“Gonna fucking need it.” You groan. You open up the door and step right inside, seeing his eyes narrow at you. If he’s going to be a dick you might as well have some fun with it. He says nothing. Instead of asking him your usual questions you just throw yourself into the chair in front of his desk. “You needed me?”
You swallow hard as he looks at you, he’s getting mad.
“I asked you to cover a watch.”
You lean back, throwing your leg up over another. “Yeah, and this is me saying no.”
He stiffens up. “Excuse me?” He asks. Your heartbeat picks up. It’s starting to thump in your chest. “I said no. I’ve already covered for Gaz again and I did my own watch. I haven’t slept more than 5 hours a night being on this base with you, you know?” You smirk. He narrows his eyes. “I don’t think you’re going to like what happens when you disobey me.” He leans back in his chair. Crossing his arms.
“Ah, I already don’t like what happens when you’re normal, so let’s play this game.” You smirk. He’s fuming. “100 push ups.” He nods. “No.”
“200”
“You can keep adding but I’m not going to do them.” You cross your own arms. He stands up, walking around his desk and leaning up against it. “What exactly are you trying to achieve by disobeying me? Hm?” He breathes. “Oh, nothing. I’m just sick of you working me like a dog.” You look up at him. He rolls his eyes. “Y/N. Quit being a brat and go take your watch.”
“No.”
He’s fuming.
“Y/N.”
“I’ll go cover it when you make me.��� You look up at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I said make me.” He’s clearly stumped by your reaction. “I’ll have you taken off my base faster than you can say-“
“So go ahead.” You cut him off. His ear lobes start to blush, he’s furious. “But you’re not going to. Are you?” You stand up, moving closer to him. He towers over you but you’re still cornering him.
“I’m not sure what it is I’ve done to you. But I’m done being treated like shit.” You move closer to him. “So unless you’re going to make me, I’m going to go to bed.” You grin.
You can’t help but notice his jeans, and how they’ve gotten tighter since you’ve been biting back. “Does it… do something for you? Hm?” You smirk. “Do you like pushing me around?” You cross your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He growls. You reach your hand out to grope him and he grasps it, stopping you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He growls. “Who said I couldn’t finish it?” You step even closer. “Y/N..” his voice is full of warning.
“Do you think you deserve it?” You breathe. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t exactly been kind to me, I don’t think you’ve earned it.” He laughs. Taking in a deep breathe. “You’re a funny girl, you know that?”
He stays completely still and in just a second he’s got you bent over his desk, a handful of your hair in his hands. His cock pressed right up against your ass. You don’t even have time to gasp before he’s got you against it. “Amusing you think I won’t just take what I want.” His voice is deep, his breath warm over your ear as he mutters it. He lifts his radio from his vest. “Soap, do you mind taking over watch? Y/N is going to be unavailable for the next couple hours.”
“No problem. Take it easy on the poor girl, old man. She’s don’t enough push ups for the entire task force.” Soap’s voice comes across the both of your radios.
He chuckles, forcing you back by your hair. “Deep breaths.” He reaches down, you can hear him fumbling with his belt. “Nobody will save you this time.” He reaches around your front, unbuttoning your jeans and forcing them down your legs. He tugs them until they’re completely off, pushing himself up against your bare ass. You can feel him. Skin on skin. Nothing holding you back. You’re wondering how it’s progressed this far. “You don’t deserve it.” You grit your teeth. “Been nothing but a complete ass to me since I started on your base.” You roll your eyes. He snorts, “yeah, feel free to stop me.” He rolls his eyes. Spitting on his cock and lining up with your entrance. “Nothing? Hm?” He breathes. “Right, you’re a pathetic slut and me being mean to you got this little pussy wet. That’s why you’re here-“ he pauses, thrusting himself into you. You gasp out, all of the air leaving your lungs as he forces his big cock into you. “On my cock.” He finishes his sentence.
You moan out, clutching onto his desk. You’re holding on for dear life as he starts his bruising pace. Hips slamming against yours, the wooden desk digging into your hips. “Oh god.” You whine. He tugs your hair back, forcing you back. He kisses you hard, feeling you melting into him further. How willing you are to take him is something he didn’t expect.
John isn’t a relationship kind of guy. He’s in the military, nothing ever goes his way. He avoids women at all costs.
The moment you showed up he knew he needed to stay away from you. He knew he couldn’t help himself if he got his hands on you. He saw how easy it was for others to get along with you and it didn’t help with how damn pretty you were and how sweet you were to top it off. He was fucked from the beginning. He knew it.
So now, with his cock buried deep inside you. He didn’t know what the hell to do. He didn’t think it would be this easy, that you would just let him. But you did.
The tiny whines that leave your lips, they egg him on. You’re a lot less vocal than he thought you’d be. Whining and whimpering. Like you didn’t know how to react or what to do.
All you could do is just take it, because he wasn’t going to stop.
Your knuckles turn white, hips lurching forward with every hard thrust he takes. He’s brushing up against parts of your body that had never been touched before. You couldn’t help but fall apart beneath him. At his complete mercy. The tough act you had put up to get here is long gone, all that’s left is the mess he’d made of you. “Captain-“
“Call me John.” He tugs your hair back, hand clapping against your ass. You cry out. “John- you don’t have a condom on.” You hiss. He spanks your ass again, not slowing his thrusts for a second. “No, I don’t. And I don’t need one. You’re a good cock sleeve, you can take it.” He breathes. His teeth gritted as he says it. “What? No!” You try to more your hips forward, trying to get away from him but he wraps his arms around your waist. “Oh baby, no. No no.” He laughs. Thrusting into you still as he forces you against his large muscled body. He makes you feel and look small and pathetic next to him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy. M’gonna fill your slutty pussy and you’re gonna love every single second of it.” He grins. “But- but what if-“
“What if what? What if I knock you up? Get you pregnant?” He laughs. “I guess you should’ve thought about that before you threw yourself at me.” He growls, biting down on your neck. Another mewl leaves his lips. “Please don’t-“
“Fuck- oh fuck I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “No- John please!”
He forces you back over the desk, holding your hips steady. You can’t help it as he pushes you over the edge, a sob leaving your lips as you cum around his cock. Pussy clamping down around him. He can feel it.
“You say you don’t want it but your pussy says otherwise baby.” He holds you hands behind your back, keeping you from fighting him as he fucks into you. “Sweet pussy is milking my cock- fuck.” He hisses. He’s right on the edge. Just a couple more thrusts and he’s groaning out. “Shit- oh fuck yes-“ he hisses. Your eyes widen when you feel it. His warmth filling up, your mouth falls open as he keeps going.
He leans over onto you. Lips right by your ear. “You’ll obey me, next time. Because we haven’t even started yet.” He brushes a hand over your hair. Flattening out what’s still sticking up from him pulling it. “M’gonna fuck my cum deeper into you, and your punishment will be how fucking scared you are when your cycle doesn’t come.” He chuckles. He keeps rocking his hips into you, despite how sensitive his cock is. His own filth seeps out of you, back out around his cock. He can feel it dripping between his thighs and yours. “This is going to be the longest month of your life, sweet girl. So be a good girl. Because when you’re not.” He tsks’
“You know exactly what’s going to happen.” He smiles.
As you lie there, still over his desk. Heartbeat thumping un your chest. Sore. Your legs wobbly. Quite possibly the best sex of your life. You’re already wondering.
What else you can do to get yourself back here, bent over his desk.
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bartxnhood · 1 year
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right here waiting | f.o
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finnic odair x fem!reader
summary: after the quarter quell you vanish, no sign, no trace. you left behind your boyfriend, finnick, who could just not wrap his head around your disappearance. what happened?
warnings: typical hunger games violence, blood, torture, strong language, descriptions of wounds.
a/n: this fic is a long time coming. i love finnick and is one of my favorite characters but i can never find the right storyline for his character. it’s also been a hot minute since i’ve watched the movies so if there are any inaccuracies just look away lmao. hopefully, i can continue to write for him. i hope you guys enjoy this one !! feedback is appreciated ! also since i haven’t written in a very long time this came out shorter than i wanted it too. sorry about that.
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“run!!” your voice echoed, the dome was collapsing. “finnick, run!” you turned around, grabbing his wrist to pull you along. the arena was exploding as you tried your best to dodge the debris. katniss had used one of her arrows and shot the border of the arena causing it to collapse. now, all the victors began to spread out to take cover from the panels.
“holy shit, y/n, look out!!” finnick was ripped from your grasp as the ground below you rumbled and sent you falling.
"y/n!? “y/n!" you could hear someone calling your name in the distance, it was a panicked finnick searching the forest floor for your body. you opened your eyes trying to search for him but your vision was too blurry. everything was spinning. "finnick."
in seconds you were back on the ground and eyes falling back, slipping into unconsciousness.
it had been weeks since your disappearance, at first most people just assumed you had died that day in the arena. either by debris or the capital, but finnick knew that you were still out there somewhere.
for finnick, it was a nightmare. he barely left his room. every day that you stayed missing he slowly began to lose hope that he’d find you again. so, he began to mourn.
he was almost unrecognizable. finnick was letting himself go. he began to neglect his health, he refused to eat, he couldn’t sleep, and he was killing himself.
guilt heavy on his shoulders after losing you, even though the people around him had assured him that your disappearance wasn’t his fault. but finnick thought that had he held on to your hand just a little tighter you would’ve made it out.
katniss came to him one day, finding him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling like any other day. “this isn’t like you.” she stated. finnicks eyes found her, standing at the edge of his bed. the girl sighed, crossing her arms. “you’re killing yourself.” he shrugged. “what else am i supposed to do?” “fight for her?” “how?” katniss fell silent, she wasn’t sure how to proceed with the news she had just received. slowly, she moved to his side and sat down. “she’s alive.”
everything froze, he was sure he even stopped breathing. finnick sat up slowly so he could face katniss. “what?” “she’s in the capitol. with peeta.”
the bright fluorescent light of the hospital room burned your eyes, you brought your hand over your eyes to adjust to the light. once your eyes adjusted to the light you scanned your surroundings. you looked at your hand, you had an iv in, and you heard the faint beeping of the monitor next to you.
what happened? how did you get out? where were you? you barely remembered what happened in the capitol, it was all a blur. you began to panic, searching around the room wondering if you could get out.
the door opened, and you looked to your left and saw someone entering. “kat?” your voice was scratchy and hoarse. she now stood at your bedside holding your hand. she hummed, “hi, y/n/n”. “thank god” you breathed, tears welling in your eyes. “i thought id never see you again” katniss hushed your cries, wiping away the tears falling from your eyes. “shh, it’s okay. you’re okay” she smiled. caressing your cheek.
you had lost a lot of weight at this point, your face was sunken in. your body thinner than it had ever been, and you were beyond exhausted both physically and mentally. “oh, honey” she coaxed. you held onto her hand tightly, “there’s someone here who wants to see you.” she gently escaped from your grasp, walking to the exit.
"fin. you breathed, watching him enter the room. it felt like a dream you had wanted to see him for so long. it felt like an eternity. the one you loved so dearly, the one who has saved your life multiple times. "y/n" he walked over to your bedside. he was hesitant at first, but when you held your hand out for him he gained confidence.
"you're here." you weakly smiled, reaching for his hand. he found himself on the edge of your bed, holding you
“of course i am, sweets. where else would i be?" he chuckled softly, and you hummed. you brought your hand to his cheek. you examined his face and he placed his hands on yours. finnick studied you, making sure to soak in every detail.
"you'll never have to go through that again, y/n. i promise i'll do anything to keep you safe." he kissed the top of your head.
you smiled as he pulled back, and tears fell from your eyes again. "i know, fin" you said softly. "you look tired, love" he sighed. it had been such a long time since you'd been in his embrace, you missed everything about him. his jokes, snarky comments, his grin. he was your everything. "i am." you hummed, while he sat holding your hand. “rest, i’ll be right here when you wake up.”
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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months
Text
I Didn't Ask For This (part 5)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.
All her dreams would be shattered.
But maybe she can salvage them?
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: do you think we forgive azzie? Just a lil bit? He's going to grovel and a lot more, but that would be in the next parts. This is just a build up for the next part. Also, send me some ways that you would like to see azzie grovel, if there are any.
•○🌑○•
Azriel's pov.
He couldn't move for what felt like eternity, staring at the doorway through which she had disappeared.
He hadn't realised what was really going on inside her head when he'd turned her away all those times. Hadn't realised that the pain she went through was enough to make her want to have the peace and quiet of death.
He had, for some reason, thought that she just wanted to rub it in his face, that she was now married to him. Somehow, over the years since he had left his father's camp, he had grown to resent the tattoo on his ring finger. Resent the meaning of it. Resent his first friend...
And love.
Because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, younger Azriel had fallen in love with the only person who had shown him kindness. A girl who was barely any younger than him. It had felt nice, to have a friend to play with. To know all the pleasures of being a kid, no matter how fleeting. And she had given him that.
And he had broken her heart.
No. He hadn't broken her heart. He had stomped over what was left of it. And not cared.
The female who had not cared for his dirty clothes or hands or hair or face, and befriended him, had just wanted to figure out how to proceed in these inconvenient times, and he had yelled at her and told her that she ruined his life.
He had kicked her out of his room and had her sleep on a couch. And even though the couch was comfortable to sit on, it wasn't really ideal for sleeping.
He hadn't slept that night. He couldn't as he thought of how he would break the news to Elain. As he wondered if she already knew. As he cared for things and people he shouldn't have cared about.
All while the person he should have cared about was tossing and turning in restless sleep on an uncomfortable couch.
His shadows had informed him of everything, and he knew how the night went for her. No matter how much he wanted to tune the information out, his shadows wouldn't stop.
So he knew all about how she had devoured the food the house had provided her with as if she hadn't eaten in a long time– she probably hadn't, considering her extremely malnourished frame. How she didn't want to move. How she lay down on the couch and the house provided her with a blanket. How she kept waking up in a cold sweat after hours of trying to have a restfull sleep, searching around, as if expecting someone to come at her any second.
His shadows also kept whispering of how beautiful she was. Of the little scrunch in her brows when she started dreaming of something unpleasant. How her breathing quickend. How she had refused to tell Rhys that Azriel had, in fact, kicked her out, that too quite rudely. How a smile had spread on her extremely kissable lips when–
Azriel shook his head, trying to focus on the path forward. He knew he had fucked up, a really big fuck up at that. Maybe the biggest one yet. But thinking of that and feeling guilty about it would not help, when any second she could be doing something to harm herself.
His wife.
He didn't know what had come over him at Rita's, just that it had felt right. He had wanted to incinerate the males who kept glancing at her in admiration. It wasn't as if even he could look away from her, she just looked so damn gorgeous.
But then one of the males had the audacity to slide into the seat next to hers, and it had taken all the self control he had in him to not strangle him right away.
He needed to talk to her, tell her how sorry he was.
Before he knew what he was doing, his legs had carried him towards the stairs and down them, walking past one of the dining areas that the inner circle used the most to get to her room. Before he could, he was stopped by someone yelling his name. He inwardly groaned when he realised it was Nesta.
He had two choices, either he stay and listen to Nesta's very gracious words, or he could dissappear, though the latter wouldn't help for too long as she would have him at breakfast tomorrow.
He sighed and turned to Nesta, who was now almost upon him.
"Yes?"
"What's wrong with you! Can't you ever let her live in peace? Must you always stand in the way of her happiness?" She pushed him and he staggered back, not having expected such anger. "Go and apologise to her!"
"I was going to do just that, but you stopped me–"
"No one's stopping you now. Go." He could practically see steam coming out of her ears, her face flushed with anger. So, not wanting to have her wrath unleashed upon him, he turned and left, walking towards Y/n's room.
Praying she would listen to what he needed to say.
Hoping she wouldn't turn him away like he had all those times she had tried to speak.
•○🌑○•
Y/n's pov.
She lay facing the huge window towards the side of the bed, willing herself to fall asleep. But she couldn't, not when her heart still beat as if it wanted to get out of her chest.
There was a knock on the door, making Y/n glance back at it. She wondered if the person would go away if she didn't respond. She got her answer when a knock came again. She sighed and went to open the door.
She opened it to peek at who it was before slamming it shut in Azriel's face.
"Please Y/n. I'm just here to talk. Please open the door." He begged, his voice muffled. Y/n shook her head– even though she knew he could not see– and turned away.
Something in her peripheral vision snagged her attention, making her turn her head. A shadow bobbed up and down in front of her face, making her pause. The shadow then went on to fly around her in circles before coming up to Y/n's face and rubbing against her cheek, almost in a placating motion.
She couldn't stop the tiny smile that made its way onto her face as the shadow went back to hovering in front of her face.
"You want me to let him in?" She whispered to the shadow, who rapidly flew in an up and down motion. She cocked her head. "Is he here to fight?" This time, the shadow flew from side to side, as if shaking it's head.
She thought for a moment before turning back to the door and opening it. Azriel was sitting against the wall next to the door, his head in his hands. As soon as he heard the door open, his head swung up. He looked at her, hope and skepticism mingling in his eyes. She inched the door open, and he jumped up, a bounce to his steps.
He waddled in, rounding on her as soon as the door clicked shut.
She sighed, crossing her arms and pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Be quick. I need to sleep."
He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if... you'd be willing to forgive me?"
"Is that all?" When he didn't reply, she went on. "No. I have no interest in forgiving you."
"Please. I swear I'll make it up to you. I–"
"Why, Azriel?" She asked, looking up at him. "Why suddenly this need for my forgiveness?"
He swallowed. "I realised... how much of an ass I've been."
She nodded, matter-of-factly. "That you have."
"So I wanted to see if I could redeem myself. You don't have to forgive me now. Take as much time as you want. Take centuries, but please give me a chance." His eyes were placating, searching hers.
"A chance for what Azriel?"
"A chance to be a better person. Someone deserving of you. Maybe we could be a happy couple."
"Why? Elain kick you out of her bed?"
"No–I– no." He sputtered for a good few moments, baffled, before he regained his composure. "This has nothing to do with Elain. Today when you saw us, I was telling her that we could not continue to do whatever it was that we were doing. She wanted a final kiss." Shame dripped from every word out of his mouth.
Y/n searched his eyes for any hint of deception, but found none. Could she trust him not to leave her again? Could she let him have the pieces of her heart she had left and trust him not to throw them away?
She wasn't sure, and maybe he saw it in her eyes as his face fell, all hope vanishing from that beautiful face
"It–it's okay if you don't want to forgive me. I just thought that maybe you wanted this too."
She took a deep breath. "How can I trust you Azriel? How can I, when you have broken me every chance you got?"
"Trust me this one time Y/n, I won't let you down again. Let me make it up to you, please."
Y/n pondered it for a few moments before sighing. "Fine. But leave now, I need to sleep."
A smile lit up his face, making him all the more attractive. He nodded happily before he vanished into his shadows.
She lay down in her bed again, finally feeling sleep crawling in.
Her last thought before she fell asleep was that Azriel had knocked on her door when he could have just barged in or stepped through his shadows, especially when she shut the door in his face.
He respected her privacy.
She was grateful that he had given her that choice. One she had never had.
And for some reason, it healed her soul, even if it were a little bit.
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope
Part 6
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miris-secret-files · 9 months
Note
Itachi x reader where reader is Sasuke's friend and Itachi has a crush on her. In general how'd Itachi be around her? Btw yn is 18 y/o
An Unexpected Crush Or A Growing Obession ? || Itachi Uchiha x fem!reader
A/n : Hello ! 💐 I don't know if you wanted this to be a Dark Content related fic or not. As I said that fluff / angst / smut fics would be better if sent on my other account @moumouton4. As I want this blog to be fully about dark content. So I made the plot slightly slid in a darkish side. Hope you'll like 🍦
Warnings : Not fully dark content, embodied fem!reder, Itachi is staring at you bro, mention of erection, jerking off, he is obsessed by you, mention of use of the Sharingan ?!?, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 637
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Firstly he was really surprised that his grumpy younger brother befriended someone like you who was so talkative and expressive
He has always seen you from afar. Sometimes training with Sasuke. Sometimes playing with him in the playground. And sometimes when his brother would invite you home he’d briefly see you before you disappear in his room
Something that was attracting him even more was the way you acted while fighting
Of course when you were younger you couldn’t hold a candle to Sasuke but now oh brother you could hold your head against him for a very long time
Even without Sharingan, which had the honor of attracting the respect of Sasuke and of course Itachi, whom you had unknowingly already wrapped around your finger
Over time, his love and attraction for you grew.
He found it hard to stand next to you without blushing or stammering. So he became almost as silent as his brother at times
m2Unable to stop himself from giving you little glances
But as time passed he started to see you differently
You grew taller, your hips were divinely outlined - ready to bear his children - and your breast swelled to give him a magnetic landscape when you wore low-cut t-shirts
So he stood his ground - for now - and kept watching you from afar. Wondering if you’d notice him. Or if you already did
His gaze grew hungrier as his eyes shamelessly undressed you. His explicit thoughts started to swirl with pictures of him pinning you against him bed while he’d slowly and gently bring you to climax
Oh you’d look divine with a fucked out expression on your beautiful face
Sometimes he’d stare at you so much that his Sharingan would activate by itself. Despite his being Itachi Uchiha, the Uchiha prodigy
Sometimes he would met his brother’s questioning gaze and he would blink away trying to help the three swirling tomoes to fade away
And maybe also the little blush that had appeared on his face when you met his eyes
By the way when that happened he would always mumble at himself or choke all the way
At night he would find himself restless in his fûton, staring at the ceiling with one thought in his head, having you
Today again he would have to jerk himself off like a madman if he wanted to relief his aching cock and finally get some sleep
These thoughts surprised even himself. Who was so calm and thoughtful, felt himself slipping more and more from reason with how much he wanted, no, needed to have you
He had to stop himself from seeing you again when one day the mere sight of you hair resting against the swell of your ass give him a full erection
He almost pounced on you but he didn’t
He knew how much Sasuke was protective of you. With Naruto you were his only friends and he would never want anything bad or unwanted thing to happen to you
Besides I hc Sasuke to be very possessive
But it didn’t work, the more time he spent away from you the more his body ached to be close
He even tried to train to think about something else. It worked… the first 2 days
It wasn’t going to work as planned. He needed to do something and son before he gets mad
That’s it ! He knew how he was going to proceed. He was going to snatch the opportunity of Sasuke leaving for a mission - hoping you wouldn’t come with him - and ask you out
He’d try his best to make  you fall as hard as he did for you
And maybe who knows his fantasies would come trues he also has a Sharingan that can be very persuasive if needed
~
~
A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🧁🥓 Again my requests are open 🍗🥪
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digital-domain · 2 months
Text
Escape - Part 2 to Per This Agreement
Alastor x Reader // word count 3.2k
In which your worst fear returns, and nothing about it (about him) is as you remembered
Tags/Warnings: noncon, blowjob, come swallowing, mention of substance use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms™️, Alastor poorly suppressing a mental breakdown, not a good ending for either party, angst with a side of smut
A/N: I see this happening before/during whatever the fuck happened seven years ago. Is it canon compliant? Only time will tell.
As always - 18+, read the tags, if you don’t like the tags then don’t go below the cut (or into my inbox). Thank you and enjoy.
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It’s been almost a year. That all-consuming paranoia that haunted you in the aftermath still lingers. But it’s not as sharp as it once was. It even disappears sometimes, when you keep yourself busy, when you give yourself other things to think about (there are other ways to tune it out as well, but they don’t last, and leave you more of a wreck than you started). So you stay moving. Stay distracted. And the results? You have a job, a dingy apartment, a scattered collection of hobbies, and people who you might consider friends if you weren’t scared of bringing them in close. It’s enough to keep the worst of your thoughts at bay. Enough to keep you sane.
And yet, you know that he is coming back. He made it clear, on that horrible day, that your existence is not your own. That you will see him again. You’ve pictured this reunion many times - it pops into your head, unwanted, at the worst possible moments. When you’re alone, when it’s dark, when you’re trying to sleep. Even after you fall asleep. Some of your nightmares are so vivid that you swear you can feel that chain around your neck, even once you wake up gasping for air. Sometimes, after a string of bad nights, staying busy isn’t enough, and you look for other ways out. If you drink enough, you don’t dream. And of course, you don’t dream if you don’t sleep and all.
You slept well last night, though. It’s been weeks since the last broadcast, and for once, your sleeping mind has given you a reprieve from its horrors. The day was good, too. Full of the pleasant boringness of everyday existence, the empty chatter that almost makes you feel at peace. You went to work, and did not jump at any unexplained noises. You ate your lunch, and did not feel the urge to vomit at any point after. You walked home, and did not stop to buy the sort of poison that would help you forget. You turned corners, and did not fear what you might see when you did. You ascended the stairs of your apartment building, and unlocked your door, and thought of nothing but mundane things the entire time. It was an uneventful day.
It was too good to last. 
You step into your apartment, and immediately, something feels wrong. You can’t place it. There are no flickering lights, no ominous shadows on the wall, no faint, distorted voices echoing from places you can’t see. And yet, the feeling remains. You proceed cautiously through your home, and slowly open the door of your bedroom. Step inside.
And freeze. 
Alastor is standing motionless in the middle of the room, like he’s been staring at your door for hours, waiting for you to emerge. 
Running would be so pointless that it doesn’t even occur to you. In fact, absolutely nothing occurs to you for some time. For you to have any thoughts, you’d first have to admit that this was real.
His eyes register your appearance, but he doesn’t move or speak. Not yet. Your mind slows down - or perhaps time slows down, to give you a chance to see, to understand anything beyond your initial horror. And you realize, after your thoughts finally catch up with your eyes, that nothing is as you remembered. 
He looks different. He is different, in every conceivable way.
You remember him standing straight. Even when he bent down, his spine was rigid. Now, he is folded in on himself, like a marionette with half its strings cut. His chest visibly rises and falls. His ears are pressed back against his head. His hair is frayed at the ends, individual strands escaping his control, pressing out in every direction. He is still grinning, but it’s not cruel, or confident. In fact, it looks like it might slip off at any moment. And his eyes…
They’re wide. Expressive, a far cry from the sadistic calculation that had burned in them a year ago. In all the times you imagined this moment, you never imagined him like this. You don’t think you could have conjured such a desperate expression in your imagination, even if you’d tried. Something is wrong, and not in the way you expected.
Even the place where he’s standing is wrong. In your nightmares, he always appeared over your bed when you were sleeping, or materialized in your desk chair, his boots kicked up at the corner, a menacing grin pasted to his face. And he always had something to say. But here, in what is unfortunately your real, waking life, his silence stretches on, until it’s too much for you to bear.
“What do you want?” You hate the way these words curdle in your mouth, fall thickly from your tongue. You shouldn’t have to ask. In your dreams, he was always very clear about what he wanted. Revenge for your insolence, in one way or another. On the good nights, your soul is ripped at its seams, and you scream for all of hell to hear. On the bad nights, you’re torn apart in a different way, and no one hears you except for him.
He doesn’t answer you. Not immediately. Just inhales deeply, presses his clenched fists to his side. For no reason that you can think of, you take a step forward - the door slams shut behind you, and you hear the click of a key in the lock. You don’t bother turning around, or checking your pockets for your own key. Somehow, you already know that they’ll be empty. 
One of his hands rises into the space between you. His fist falls open, palm raised to the ceiling. It curls shut. 
This is exactly as you remember.
It plays out like your nightmares, in perfect detail. The golden chain unfurls, you take one last free breath before the collar snaps tight around your neck, and you lock eyes with him as your face falls. But you don’t struggle, this time. And he doesn’t move more than he has to. He drops his gaze, stares down the length of the chain, holds its end limply in his loose fist. 
It shakes and bends, capturing the small spasms of his hand. “I didn’t think”-
Your breath catches in your throat, at the same moment he cuts himself off. He sounds different. There is no filter over his voice, nothing for it to hide behind. 
“I didn’t think I’d ever”- Again, he stops. He seems to become aware that he’s speaking only once the words have left his mouth. “A year ago…I didn’t intend on following through”-
You wait. He’s not drawing this out on purpose. You almost wish that he was. That would make sense. Taunts would make sense. Arrogance, deceit - those would make sense. This does not make sense. This is not real.
He starts again, and this time, it sticks. “I’m suffering in ways that you couldn’t even fathom.” His eyes, dull, burned-out red craters, leave you no room to question him, although at this moment, you don’t think any kind of suffering is out of reach for you. “There’s a reason the airwaves have been so quiet for the past few weeks. This… thing that’s hanging over me…” His eyes narrow, fingertips scratch against his covered palm. “It’s stripping the pleasure out of everything.” Finally, he looks at you. Seeing your face seems to strengthen his resolve - he grips the slack of the chain, slowly wraps it around his hand. “And I’m sure you know…despair makes us resort to strange things, just to feel alive.”
You do know. And you want to scream that you know because of him. But for many reasons, your mouth stays shut. He already knows everything that you’re thinking. Everything you fear. He’s thinking about it, too.
“I can’t escape. But I can forget, if only for a moment. And I suppose that’s a form of escape in itself.” He tilts his head. “Isn’t it?” His gaze is fixed on the chain link protruding from his fist. Some battle rages in his head, with no sign of abating. 
The doorknob is close to your hand. So close that you’re beginning to think that fleeing is an option for you, after all. The Alastor you saw in your nightmares would never have permitted it - but he has little in common with the man standing before you. You eye the golden links flowing out from his hand. If you pull hard enough to make him let go, will the whole thing disappear? You don’t think it would take much to catch him off guard. Not in his current state.
Your stomach drops as his eyes flick upwards, catch you in the act.
“Oh…” To your horror, his ears perk up, eyes narrow in an all-too-familiar way. “No. I’m not that far gone.”
You stop, and wish you could force yourself to keep moving, just enough to cover your ears. The static is back in his voice, biting into you. You think he’s angry, like he was the time before. Or at the very least, he wants to be angry. 
Your mind escapes of its own accord. You see yourself, almost a year ago, in the wake of your terrible mistake. Wiping your tears away, dressing in the finest clothes you owned, marching into the street. Buying two things at a nearby secondhand shop: a radio, abandoned and cheap because it refused to turn off, and a baseball bat. It was a stupid idea, one that sucked up your money and left you sitting on your kitchen floor in a sea of broken metal parts, feeling even more hopeless than you did before.
But it felt good, while it lasted. Better than you’d felt in a long time. It gave you something to do with your misery, other than let it tear you apart. And for a few seconds of blissful destruction, your mind went entirely quiet. 
His voice drags you back to the present. “Even if you did manage to get as far as that doorknob,” he spits, “it would still be locked. I’m afraid that you’re trapped.” His grin stretches at the corners, and he bitterly laughs at some joke that you truly don’t understand. “We have that in common. But at least I still have a few places left to run.”
You don’t say a thing. Only let your hand fall from its upwards climb, back to the outside of your thigh. Limp.
“So few that I ran to you.” His lip twitches in something like disgust - whether at you, or at himself, you’re not sure. It stills quickly, and the mask of his smile hardens on his face. “Pitiful. But I can’t say that I regret it just yet. And perhaps I never will.” He clenches his fist tight around the ethereal chain, and for the first time since you set foot in your room, his eyes are alight, glowing exactly how you remember. “I certainly can’t turn back.”
Maybe this, the return of what you knew, is the only part that is real. Or maybe it’s the only part that isn’t. It goes on, either way.
A sudden tension on the chain pulls you forward, until you’re sprawled on the floor with only a vague understanding of how you got there. You look up, and see a gloved hand tugging sharply upwards. You scramble to your knees, because fighting with the metal band around your neck will result in you hideously gasping for breath until you surrender. You try to look away. To your surprise, he lets you, but you find your gaze returning to him before long. There’s no escape. He made that clear a long time ago. He can quell any struggle that you attempt, so it’s better not to struggle at all.
No way out…and yet, there is a hesitance in the way his hand leaves your face, a clumsiness in the way it falls at his waist. One last spark of uncertainty. It’s gone, after a moment - he clutches your chain harder, and quickly undoes his trousers, pulls everything down just enough to let his cock spring free. He looks at you in the moment that your stomach knots in anticipation, in the moment your face betrays your rage at being dragged down to this place. He sighs in delight, at that. But he closes his eyes as he urges you forward, as you let your tongue fall from your mouth, as you drag it up his length and close your mouth over the tip of his cock. He inhales sharply, but makes no other sound. His mouth has fallen open, revealing the sharp ends of his teeth. You wrap your hand around his shaft, meet it with your lips, stroke in time with the movement of your mouth, try to ignore the sound of his breath. You don’t know what he wants, what he likes - you’re not sure if he knows, either. All you can do is keep going, and pray that it will be over soon. Your eyes are closed. His breathing is louder than it was a moment before.
You’re not sure what, exactly, shifts. All you know is that suddenly, his hand is on the back of your head, nails sharp even through his gloves, curling through your hair and pressing into your scalp. His eyes have snapped open. They bore into you as he forces himself into your throat, as he makes you gag and sputter until you’re fighting against his hand, against the chain that pulls you tight to the base of his cock. You can’t breathe. Drool trails from the sides of your mouth, drips to the floor - and he holds you there, exhales raggedly as your struggles become increasingly desperate, until give out entirely.
There’s the clink of chain unwinding from his hand, and then the relief of being yanked back, of taking a deep breath - only for your stomach to drop again as he raises your face. You’re not sure when you started crying, but the tears are there, and he sees every one of them. Lifts a finger to wipe the freshest one away. 
His eyes are wide and shining and dark. Edging on black, the same color as the ill-fitting shadow that pulses out from behind him. He tugs at your chain, and his voice hisses out from the gap between his teeth, a low, ravenous command. “Smile.”
His finger pulls at the corner of your mouth, but you’re already obeying, pulling your lips back to show your teeth, arranging the drool-stained lower half of your face into exactly what he wants to see. His hand twitches. The shadow on the wall lets its mouth fall open. Then, his grip clamps down on your jaw, erasing your grin and forcing your lips open. He shoves into your mouth, thrusts relentlessly until all you have room for in your head is the clink of the chain by your ear, the pressure of his hand on the back of your head, and the taste of his cock on your tongue. The chain tightens, he holds you tight as you choke, his hand stiffens on your scalp - 
He gasps out an oath under his breath. His body shudders, convulses. His cock pulses into you, and his come releases into your throat, so deep that you don’t taste it. You don’t think about it. You prepare to fight for breath, once again, to be held cruelly and tightly until saliva pools in your mouth and spills from your lips. 
But you don’t have to. The moment after it happens, he’s already stepping away. Pulling in on himself, in a perfect mirror of the way you crumple to the floor beneath him. Another oath falls softly on your ears, this one the opposite of pleasure, panicked and accompanied by a different sort of shudder.
The chain disappears. You swallow hard. And with your spine curled in, with your forearms pressed to your thighs, you watch him. He dresses himself quickly, erratically, fumbling over the fasteners before stumbling back to fall onto your bed. To ruin it with the weight of his body, the curl of his fingers on your blanket. 
His breathing, unlike yours, doesn’t even out as the seconds tick by. It catches, releases, sputters. And finally, it becomes so perfectly slow and measured that you know, beyond a doubt, each inhale and exhale is a conscious act. He’s dazed, eyes lidded, his grin faint compared to moments ago. You get the odd impression that you shouldn’t be seeing him like this - that no one should.
“My mind went quiet, for a moment…” Again, he’s not really speaking to you. The static in his voice is gone. And that look on his face, the deadened eyes, the panic only betrayed in the jittering of his hands, has sprung back into place. “It wasn’t worth it.”
“No.” You’re not sure if you say it out loud, and you don’t care. Your mind detaches from your body, floats to the highest shelf in your cramped kitchen, the half-empty bottle of liquor that stands bitter and alone against the peeling paint of your wall. It’s never worth it. And yet, you know that it will be empty, before long.
He looks away from you. “There was a time…a time when I had rules...control…” 
There was a time when you had control, too. It ended when you met him, and it won’t come back. 
“Your soul…” His chest rises. Falls. Heavy. And slowly, shaking, he pulls his hands up from your bed. In one, he rests his face, the attached arm pulled close to his body, elbow pressed down into his thigh. The other hand unfurls in the empty air beside his head. From it emits a soft green light. “Have it.” The light streams towards you, connecting your body with the tips of his fingers, enveloping you with such intensity that you have to close your eyes. You gasp as it seems to pierce your heart, sending a jolt vibrating through your ribcage as it’s sucked into you, until the green glow on the other side of your eyelids has disappeared, and a strange warmth radiates inside you.
He’s let you go. You feel it, know it - but the relief does not come.
You open your eyes. He stands, turns away. Ears pushed back, fists clenched, spine rounded, moments from giving out entirely. And this is the last you see of him. He does not leave by the door. Instead, his image melts away, melds with the remnants of his shadow and retreats into some dark corner, out through whatever crevice he manages to find. 
Away from you. Away from the unswept bedroom floor that you’re curled upon, away from your eyes, which have become every bit as hollow as his own. You hate yourself for wondering what happened to him. But you hate yourself more for wondering if he’ll ever come back. Wondering what version of him you’ll see, if he does. ***
The broadcasts do not return. Not in weeks, not in months, not in years to come. But you never really stop wondering. Only pause. Only live, and escape the best you can for as long as you can manage. After enough time has gone by, you can barely make out his face in your dreams - but you always know it’s him. And they never go away.
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fatuismooches · 10 months
Note
The way the little cakes in Arlecchino's masterpost look like wedding cakes 😭
As morbid as it sounds... this gives me an idea for an Arlecchino drabble/fic. Imagine Arlecchino proposes to her lover, but before they could have their wedding, their beloved dies/is killed 😭
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synopsis: Arlecchino did not initially seek happiness, but now that she's had a taste of it, it hurts for it to be ripped away.
includes: arlecchino w/ gn! reader
notes: Anon...? Who hurt you? I didn't even think of the wedding cakes thing but then your angst? Enjoy this then </3.
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Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger. The operator of the House of Hearth. The one who has a talent for making people... disappear.
However, despite all of the facts above, to say the Knave was smitten with her lover was an understatement. Yes, even someone like her had a partner, which bewildered anyone who even knew her name.
Most people were not aware of your existence, save for the people that worked at her estate, who were obviously sworn to secrecy. And then there were the Fatui agents stationed at the orphanage who saw you every now and then. Initially, they were confused, but seeing your interactions with their commander, they quickly connected the dots, especially when Arlecchino sent them that look. Working under the Knave generally meant you had to be tight-lipped anyway.
But engagement and marriage can hardly ever be a quiet affair. Word was bound to get out, and it did. After all, one of the Cryo Archon's Harbingers getting married was practically international news. Especially Arlecchino, who never seemed to have a trace of emotion on her face. But with enough control, the word of her union was contained to the Fatui and other high-ranked nobles. Even the Tsaritsa herself was said to be attending the wedding.
It had grown into a bigger event than Arlecchino had planned for, but when she saw how happy you were, she couldn't bring herself to complain. She could endure some idiots for a day if it were for you. She would do a lot of things for you, actually. Never would she have thought of getting married, much less genuinely falling in love. Always, she was out to benefit herself and didn't care for the aftermath of her actions. But after she met you, she knew couldn't ever do that to you. And now, here she was today.
Admittedly, at first, Arlecchino was unsure of how to propose to you. She had bought the ring already, one with a brilliant red stone, a gorgeous thing that would look even better on your finger. (She measured your ring size while you were sleeping.) But now she was left with the problem of how she was to go about doing this. What would you like the best? Should she take you somewhere fancy? Or prepare some words for you? She did not know. She never breached the topic of marriage with you so she had nothing to go off of. As the days passed by, she could only play with the ring with her fingers as she stared at it contemplatively.
Although Arlecchino remained stone-faced during work, Columbina had noticed her friend's dilemma, which at first had proved to be amusing for the Third Harbinger, but even she had grown to feel pity.
"Arlecchino~♫ That's quite a long face you're wearing, hmm?"
"...Oh. It is you, Columbina. Is there something you require?"
"Hehe, it seems to me that you are the one that needs help instead, isn't that so?" At Columbina's cheekiness, she knew what her friend was referring to.
"I am just... uncertain of how to proceed," she confessed, and Columbina hummed in agreement.
"I say you just be honest," Columbina said simply. "You're not a very talkative person, are you? Perhaps this one time you should use your words to describe how you truly feel. Don't rehearse or plan it. It will come to you naturally. I think [Name] would enjoy that more than anything else."
Arlecchino had thought about what she said. Would you enjoy something like that? She was slightly frustrated at how unskilled she was in matters of the heart. But the more she pondered, the more impatient she grew. She wanted you to be hers now.
And so, one morning, you woke up to your cheek being pressed against something soft. It was probably just a pillow, you thought in your sleepy haze. Until you realized this pillow was stroking your hair repeatedly. When you peeked up, you were astonished to see your lover still in bed by now. Normally, she was up early in the morning and returned late at night, so morning cuddles while you were awake were far in between. The rare occurrence had made all the sleepiness in you dissipate as you shuffled in Arlecchino's arms, drawing her attention.
"A-Arlie? Why are you still in bed? Normally you're gone way earlier!" She merely shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal.
"Partners must make time for each other, no?" She didn't elaborate but she didn't need to, you already knew what she was trying to say and you were overjoyed by this simple gesture. Her warmth and presence had suddenly made the sleepiness seep back into your body, but now that you finally had Arlecchino to yourself again, it felt like a waste to spend that time sleeping! You should spend this time talking to her! Although it was mostly you doing all the talking while she bore her eyes into you (an act of unspoken love.)
Arlecchino quickly noticed you fighting your drooping eyelids. "Sleep," she commanded. "I will be back earlier today as well." With that, she placed a kiss on your forehead, and though you were even more surprised at her early return, you drifted back to the land of dreams.
When you awoke, she was gone, but that was okay. Because soon into the evening you were somehow having dinner with your beloved. It was probably the longest dinner you ever had, as you couldn’t help but babble and bask in the presence of Arlecchino as she nodded and hummed, sometimes putting in a few words or even sentences of her own when you asked her how her days have been lately, and if everything was okay since this was kind of unusual, but in no way were you complaining! But she graced you with a rare small smile and instead continued to feed you dinner and occasionally wipe your mouth with a napkin. When she easily carried you bridal style to your shared bedroom, all the servants kept their eyes on the ground.
After the two of you took a bath together, you knew for sure something was up. And you weren’t sure what was happening. Was she just in a good mood? Or did she have something to tell you? You didn’t realize you were pacing back and forth in your room until Arlecchino broke into your thoughts.
“Are you alright?” To others, her face would look the same but you could see the concern laced within her features.
“I am fine… but are you okay? I mean, I’m incredibly happy about today, but you seem… distracted,” you admitted. You knew from the flicker in her eyes you were right. She had become more vulnerable with her emotions around you.
“I have something to tell you, [Name].” With that, she moved closer to you until your bodies were practically touching. “It’s something very important…” she murmured, a lean and strong arm coming to rest on your back while the other cupped your cheek.
“I have thought long and hard about how to say this, but nothing I think of seems like it’ll be up to the standards you deserve. But nevertheless, I hope you can accept my words.” You were touched by her sincere vulnerability. You leaned in to press your forehead against hers and Arlecchino’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You don’t need to worry about being graceful or perfect around me, you know. I’ll take anything you have to say, love.” Your lover did not respond but you know she deeply appreciated your answer. She stepped back and instead intertwined her fingers with your own.
“I am not adept with words or feelings, or romance or emotions. I saw no need to be acquainted with those things, having believed they served no beneficial purpose. But when I look at you, I feel the urge to make sure you know the extent of my love, whether I have to whisper it into your ear or show you. Not once have I thought someone was truly beautiful until I met you. Your eyes, smile, laugh… they make my days less tiring and more bright, something that I have never experienced before. So, what I am saying… no matter what happens in the future… I want you to forever be by my side,” she finished, getting down on one knee and looking straight into your eyes. As she popped open the ring box, she asked, “[Name], will you marry me?”
After a few seconds of silence, tears sprung to your eyes as you nearly tackled her in a hug. Through your weeping, you happily accepted and cried out her real name, as she slid the ring onto your finger. Her soon-to-be spouse.
You were engaged to Arlecchino… wow.
Now, Arlecchino preferred to leave the details of the wedding planning to you. It wasn't that she was uninterested, no, of course not, but rather she was more content seeing how excited you were over it. It was the dream of many people to plan their most important day, down to the placement of each decoration and how this color matches with that and so on. Plus, although she loathed to admit it, her duties as a Harbinger left her little time. 
Though when she managed to get off early, she made sure to listen to every word you spoke about how the preparations were going, adding in little 'hmms' and 'that does sound lovely' here and there as she protectively cuddled you to her chest. The theme, flowers, colors, venue, outfits, music… you were putting thought into many things. She had to admit that though she was more focused on the act of marrying you rather than the party aspect, the way you spoke about it seemed like it may be more than enjoyable for her. Hopefully, because she did not plan on getting married ever again.
Speaking of preparations, it seemed that you had a request for her by the way your eyes shyly flickered from her face to elsewhere. Arlecchino held your chin and inquired what you needed. Her betrothed need not be shy about anything. Your face grew warm as you whispered two words embarrassingly.
“Cake testing.”
“Cake… testing?” She repeated your words slowly. You nodded your head.
“It’s basically where the couple samples a bunch of cakes together. And they decide which one they want. You know, for the wedding. So, I was thinking maybe we could go together… just for a bit! I know you’re busy and all…” Your face grew hotter the more she stared at you. Archons, that was embarrassing.
To be honest, Arlecchino wasn’t very informed about wedding rituals or customs, but by the look on your face, she could see that this was very important to you. And so she promised to find some time off. (But… cake testing, huh? Out of all things, you asked her to share sweets with her? You were so cute.)
It took a while, but eventually, you found your arm intertwined with Arlecchino’s one, situated with tables of cakes and different desserts to sample from. Of course, no expense was spared. Only the best was to be offered to the Fourth Harbinger and her soon-to-be spouse.
Arlecchino did not have much of a sweet tooth, but she was all too happy to watch you kick your feet at the delicious flavor of the cakes. To obediently open her mouth as you fed her some yourself. To listen to you ramble on about how you liked this one but that one was also too good, ah, how hard life decisions were! (The scene looked quite eerie to the staff, and they weren’t sure whether they were dreaming or having a nightmare, for this surely could not be real life. Not the Knave, the ice-cold snappy and sarcastic Harbinger who brought only fear and anxiety into the room.)
After many conversations and cake-consuming, you arrived at one final cake - pure white with a blood-red cherry on top. It looked mouth-watering, and you were all too happy to bring the fork to your mouth. Arlecchino had her fill of sweets for the day and was content to hold you to her chest as you ate. She liked seeing you happy.
A cough resonated through the room. Arlecchino stiffened and looked down at you worriedly. “That’s enough sugar for now, don’t you think? You won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she received no verbal response. Only this time it was not just a cough. It was coughs and hacks and wheezes. Immediately she was on guard and quickly flipped your body around as the plate clattered to the floor. You were clutching your throat and practically fell into her, weakness overtaking your body. Never had so much surprise shown on Arlecchino’s face.
Quickly, she yelled for the servants, something no one had ever seen her do, but she did not care. You tried to force out her real name as you gripped onto the cuff of her shirt with everything you had left. Her eyes skittered to what you were eating and instantly made a connection. Without hesitance, she reached for another cherry and put it in her mouth and that’s when she knew. 
Poison. Someone poisoned you. As a highly trained Harbinger, she was resistant to many types of poison, but you… you were just a… normal person. Who would- who could not… She could only look on helplessly as the life in your eyes dissipated and you failed to respond to her calls. Never did Arlecchino believe she could be so powerless. Not until now.
At this point, many Fatui and staff had crowded into the room as well. But it was too late. Many stared not only in horror at your stillness, but also the sheer anger and bloodlust radiating off of the Knave.
The feeling was one unfamiliar to Arlecchino. Never had she lost someone that made her feel like her heart, soul, and body had been burned and withered to ashes. Because you were the first person she loved. You were the one who gave her a taste of what happiness was like. But now you had also given her the taste of genuine loss. 
As she cradled your lifeless body, she made another promise to you and herself, one that she would keep this time:
You wouldn’t be the only person dying today.
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caffinated-and-sleepy · 2 months
Text
Part 1
Thranduil with a human SO
Meeting Thranduil
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- Realistically I don’t think Thranduil would ever let himself get close to a new other half that’s human
- Thranduil would never be ready to watch his significant other die again especially that quickly, after all 50 years is a blink of an eye for an elf
- Throwing what is realistic out the window let’s say he does find a human significant other
- Even then you have to be a VERY intriguing human to catch his eye
- Most likely you met him when he and his guard stopped at Lake Town on the way to Erebor
- He was entranced by how you treated him like a normal person
- It was strange, most mortals trembled before his 7ft tall frame
- Not you, you simply welcomed him to the Inn and left to help clean the bar
- Of course Thranduil didn’t intend to sit at the bar at all considering he could easily drink wine that didn’t taste like piss in Mirkwood
- But he convinces himself he’s just being a good King by going down and checking on his soldiers
- Of course his soldiers were doing well, many of them where testing out how many ales they could hold down they found it was 74 pints
- You were now in front of the bar sweeping and humming a low melody under your breath
- He goes to grab your attention and moves besides you, only for you to crash into him
- Thranduil catches you by the hand and for a minute the two of you simply looked like you were dancing
- “Are you alright?”
- You blush with a sweet smile on your face (me writing this: do it, write the line. NOOOO I CAN’T. Don’t be a wuss do it! IT’S SO GENERIC. DO IT. )
- “Looks like I fell for you.” (I’m sorry) Thranduil is beyond taken aback and processes what you said after he fully pulls you up.
- His response is a strange look and “I’m glad your alright.” and he disappears to his room.
- You don’t see him the next morning either since he and his soldier left for Erebor when dawn broke
- Little did you know the King of Mirkwood had trouble sleeping that night
- When they came back through Lake Town Thranduil was exhausted
- Lacking sleep and arguing with pig-headed dwarves can do a lot to an elf
- After checking back into the inn he finds you working again and decided to once more check on his soldiers
- After glancing over all of them he turns his eyes towards you, he then proceeds to listen in on your conversation with the owner’s nephew; Thaine
- “I don’t get why you’re still here? You could be at home by now.” The boy looked to be turning into a man (18ish)
- You shrugged “I like listening to the elves, Síndarian sounds beautiful! It runs off the tongue with such elegance and it brings about a sense of calm.
- The boy replies “That’s great y/n but I don’t think you should be in the commons alone and I need to head home soon. Mother said to be home before midnight.”
- Looking at the boy you sighed and said “Alright, just let me pack up and tell the customers.”
- Before you say anything to the other elves Thranduil butts in after leaving his eavesdropping corner (I sWeAr I wAs DrOpPiNg No EaVeS sIr!)
- “I can watch over both her and my own men if she wishes to stay.” He looks to you with the slight raise of his eyebrows.
- Looking to Thaine you immediately reply “Absolutely fine with me!” With a wide smile right after.
- Shaking his head with a shrug Thain says goodbye and walks out
- Finally alone with the king you opt to break the silence
- “You do not have to stay if you do not wish to. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed.” You almost looked guilty as if second guessing taking Thranduil’s offer
- Thranduil was now also surprised at how genuine you seemed, you a mere mortal was just worried he wasn’t getting enough sleep
- His face betrays him as he shows some sense of curiosity and amusement “It is quite alright, I do not usually sleep much until we arrive back at Mirkwood. I find that sleeping on rocks throw out ones back.”
- You couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp and let slip “So the rumor is true? The dwarves sleep on rocks?!”
- At this point he couldn’t tell if the human was dumb or dense, but he instead went with uneducated
- For the rest of the night you asked questions about the race of dwarves and elves
- The soldiers silently questioned why the King took an interest in a human, but they kept quiet
- Thranduil did his best to answer your questions, at one point he even smirked instead of giving you a blank stare
- The next day Thranduil felt a bit disappointed when leaving, you were the most intriguing human he had met in a while.
- Although something Thranduil didn’t say was that the dwarves didn’t actually sleep on rocks he is just a diva who missed his ultra plush bed in Mirkwood
Why is it kinda giving gen z reader? Nah but I swear it’s like a tradition to randomly post a Thranduil Imagine every few months, my Tolkien Curse. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please comment, repost and like!
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maspers · 5 months
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Ranking the Miracucast by how well they'd cope with receiving a phone call from Marinette at 3 in the morning
Marinette: No, she's not exempt from this. She was most likely already awake, and knows that regardless of circumstance if another her is calling something Serious is happening and she will deal with it accordingly. But she would not be happy about it. 4/10
Alya: This poor girl puts up with so many late night Marinette phone calls. She is exhausted. But she takes it like a champ and routinely provides the support Marinette needs. It ain't much, but it's honest work. Someone please help her. 9/10
Adrien: Yes. 10/10
Nino: I can see Nino being quite the morning person. He would answer the phone and thoughtfully listen to what's going on. Then he would have absolutely no idea how to proceed from there. If Marinette is just calling to get some more Miraculous Muscle that's great, but if it's a problem that needs more brainpower then there will be issues. 6/10
Chloe: She needs her beauty sleep. If Marinette were to interrupt that sleep, the phone is going out the window. Screaming will be involved. Of course, knowing Marinette, Ladybug or Chat Noir is standing right outside to catch said phone to use in conjunction with a Lucky Charm to beat a supervillain or something. Ladybug knows what she's doing by now. 1/10
Sabrina: Would answer the phone thinking it was Chloe. Would be surprised to hear Marinette's voice instead. Sabrina is always eager to please, and would try to help... but most likely that help involves getting Chloe to do something. We will honor your sacrifice, Sabrina. 4/10
Mylene: For some reason I can picture Mylene being Absolutely Down to help Marinette hide a body, and would have the bag and shovel ready right as she answers the phone. I don't have any explanation for this. I really don't. I just feel in my heart it's correct? Mylene doesn't *want* there to be corpses to bury, and would sigh in relief when Marinette confirms she's calling for other reasons. But like. This still feels right. 7/10
Ivan: I don't want to say Ivan sleeps like a rock, but I think he sleeps like a rock. Sorry Marinette, that phone is NOT being answered. 0/10
Rose: Has custom ringtones for all of her friends and catapults out of bed the moment she hears any of those ringtones. Rose will immediately do everything in her power to help any of her friends at any time of day or night. Because that's what friends do. When Marinette asks her to do something oddly specific, she will do it without question and will assume it's Adrien related. She may or may not be right. 8/10
Juleka: Was already awake. May or not be aware of the passage of time. Her ability to function probably increases as the sunlight disappears, if we're being honest, so Marinette will be unnerved by this significantly more cheerful Juleka. This may or may not have an adverse effect on whatever Marinette was planning. 8/10
Kim: He will answer the phone before fully waking up. He will agree to anything Marinette says. He will say "okay, I got it" and then Marinette will hang up and Kim will finish waking up and he will have no idea what he's supposed to be doing. 2/10
Max: Marinette will be very frustrated with Max's auto-responder. Max would be happy to help, but Marinette can't figure out how to navigate all the weird options ("If you need help, press 2, if you need help with aliens, press 3, if you need help with homework, press 4, and if you need help with-") so it'll probably be a half an hour before he realizes he's being called. 3/10
Alix: Before receiving the Rabbit Miraculous, she would answer the phone and provide assistance with copious amounts of sarcastic remarks. Now that she has the Rabbit Miraculous, she gets her significantly more well-rested future self to answer the phone instead. And provide assistance with copious amounts of sarcastic remarks. Alix/10
Nathaniel: While he may not be crushing on her anymore, Nath would still be very eager to help Marinette. Unfortunately he is probably very tired and operating with a less-than-even temper so there will be problems. 4/10
Lila: The entire situation would be hilarious. She would not expect a call from Marinette this early in the morning, and would engage in Death Note-style mental gymnastics to try and figure out Marinette's goal. Does she need help? Why is she calling me if she needs help? Does she need something from me? She knows I would never help her, right? Or is she expecting me to not help and is just calling to brag that I'm not needed? Or, wait, um- Add this to the fact that she's probably very tired and not fully awake means her brain would probably short-circuit and she'd end up helping Marinette out before her thought process can catch up. 5/10
Luka: Oh, Luka, you poor, poor, boy. Marinette is not the only one who comes to you for late night therapy. So many people seek out your assistance at odd times and places, and you will ALWAYS help. You can function, and you do your best, but internally you're just a regular guy who's trying REALLY REALLY HARD to be cool and dependable. You desperately need a break, Luka. But for now I'll give you the credit you deserve. 10/10
Kagami: Her mother keeps her on a very rigid sleep schedule, so naturally she jumps at the chance to be more of a rebel and help Marinette out. Things will get broken. Even if Marinette just wanted to ask Kagami a question, there will still be property damage. 6/10
Marc: There is absolutely no way that Marc can function at all at 3 in the morning. He has been up all night writing, sustained entirely by caffeine and hyperfixation. His brain is starting to collapse from the stress and he can no longer tell fiction from reality any more. He would still try to help Marinette if she called him, but she's learned by now to just let him sleep for the sake of his health. -5/10, but like in a good way
Ondine: Probably wakes up at around this time anyway depending on which sports season it is. She can help just fine, but since she and Marinette aren't that close the chance that Ondine can assist with anything really important is low. 5/10
Aurore:
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Why on earth are you calling me this early?" "I need help." "What? I barely know you!" "I'm going to blackmail Alec Cataldi." "...I'm listening."
4/10
Felix: Look you just know he has the weirdest sleep schedule. He's either basically dead to the world or fully functioning without issue. He will help Marinette, though he might need to be coerced. 7/10
Zoe: She will do literally anything that Marinette asks her to. Marinette will feel very guilty about this. 9/10
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intimacyequalsdeath · 7 months
Text
Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 7: The Lost Boys x Reader (Poly) (Apple Cider)
And with that the first week of Fictober is over with! I hope you've all enjoyed the first 7 fics of this wonderful month and I hope you all stick around to enjoy the rest <3
Notes: Minors DNI, This one still isn't smut but do stay tuned for later in Fictober (wink wink). No pronouns or descriptions of reader used. This is a poly relationship fic so if you aren't into it this isn't the fic for you. (Not my gif but i loved it too much not to use) I used a lot of creative liberties in this so if it doesn't seem 100 percent canon that's why.
Fic specific notes: Star doesn't exist in this neither does Laddie.
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Rays of the light from the moon were peaking through the clouds as the coolness of the nighttime descended on Santa Clara. You had been awake for a couple hours and knew once the night came the boys would be ready to proceed with what you had promised them a year ago on the dot.
A year ago to the day was when David first brought it up.
"Become one of us" He rasped at you one night after a night out at the boardwalk.
At first you hadn't thought you heard him correctly, One of them? There was no way he meant a vampire? could he? Marko butted in before you could ask him.
"Yeah c'mon babe, You've been with us almost two years now we want you to be with us forever" You glanced at Paul and Dwayne and they both smirked and nodded.
You told the four that night that you wanted nothing more then to be one of them and be with them forever, but you needed time to process what that would mean for you. You promised them if they waited a full year you would drink the blood and become theirs forever. The past year had flown by and in reality felt like you had only had a week to process.
One by one you could hear the boys wake deeper into the cave and one by one in that order they emerged into the main room where you rested behind the sheer curtains that surrounded the bed.
Marko, Dwayne and Paul as usual entered first but as on any other day they stalled back waiting for David. David entered the main room a few minutes later fully dressed in his normal gloves and trench coat and approached your bed slowly and casually. He used a gloved hand to pull one of the curtains away from the bed and leaned over you with his other hand at the side of your face on the bed.
"Darling, I think you know what time it is" You opened your eyes to look up at one of the men you had promised yourself too a year ago but had been with for 3.
"Doesn't max have to be here?" you asked, you knew the answer was no but you still wanted to stall for as long as possible. David fixed you with an unamused look.
"Of course not doll, But you knew the answer to that, C'mon let's get you up and ready we have all night but we'd like to go to the boardwalk at some point" David said grabbing your hand and helping you sit up.
You noticed the other 3 had disappeared off somewhere probably to get a few things in order for you after you drink the blood. You placed your feet on the side of the bed and stood up pulling the shawl you were sleeping in tighter around you as the chill of Santa Clara night hit you like a truck.
"You're nervous" David stated, You turned to look at him and he chuckled a bit.
"The nerves are rolling off you like waves" He continued "Though I'm not sure why, You aren't second guessing this are you?" He asked you incredulously, You swiftly shook your head.
"Of course not David, that isn't it at all" He still stood next to the bed staring at you, you sighed.
"It's just, I don't know. What if the blood doesn't take or something, what if it goes wrong and makes me sick or something. I want to be with you guys forever but I'm so scared David" His face soften and he brought a gloved hand to your chin to bring your eyes to his.
"My love Max explained to you the worst things that can happen, Even if the blood doesn't take at first me and the boys are prepared for any situation. Even if something goes wrong we aren't going to let you get hurt, you just have to trust us darling" You sniffled with unshed tears in your eyes. David had a soft side but it was rare that he showed it.
Dwayne entered the room and fixed you with a worried look before turning to David.
"Everything is ready if you are David, Is everything ok?" Dwayne asked. You nodded and smiled at him.
"I'm fine hun. Just got a little nervous" You said wrapping your arms around Dwayne's middle, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.
"Well I guess that settles it then Dwayne, tell Marko and Paul that we're ready" Paul turned to leave and you grabbed his hand into yours and followed, David coming behind the two of you into the section of the cave where David's makeshift throne sat.
Marko and Paul had matching grins upon seeing you and you knew they were just as excited and anxious as Dwayne and David were even if Dwayne and David were better at their poker faces then the younger two vampires.
David stepped away from the group to walk up to the throne and grab the bottle that held the blood. Marko and Paul came up and wrapped their arms around you seemingly keeping you in place in case. Marko leaned over to your ear while David got the blood ready.
"Once you start drinking don't stop until David tells you, you might faint or pass out but me and Paul got you. If you do you'll wake up in an hour or two and we'll all take care of you till your fully turned" You nodded at him and gave him a small smile to try and show you weren't nervous.
David stepped forward and held out the encrusted wine bottle to you.
"Here Darling, Let's get this show on the road" He uncorked the bottle and handed it to you.
"Like Marko said, Don't stop drinking until I tell you too ok?" You nodded bringing the bottle up to your lips and with a final nod from David you took mouth full of the blood.
The metallic taste was sharp as the cold liquid made it's way over your tongue and down your throat as you swallowed the first mouth full of blood. Without any indication from David you took another drink followed by another. After the fourth mouth full you were feeling lightheaded.
"That's good enough" David said gripping the bottle and gently taking it from your hand. You let him take the bottle as you stumbled lightly. Your head was swimming in a way you had never experienced before, your vision was blurry.
Marko and Paul tried their best to steady you as you stumbled back and forth between the two of them like a ping pong ball.
"Get to the bed Marko" You heard David command before your world went black.
================================================
Two hours and some change later you awoke again. You were having the most weirdest vivid dreams before you woke up in a cold sweat sitting straight up in bed.
You immediately noticed all four of your boys sitting in chairs placed in different areas around your bed. You gather the blankets around yourself to try and fight off both the cold night and the shivers in your own body as your boys start to gather around you.
Paul reached you first and moved the hair from your eyes to place a hand on your forehead before looking to David.
"No fever" He said, David nodded.
"Good, I want us to check every hour or so to make sure" He said to all the boys. Dwayne leaned down and put his hands on your cheeks.
"How are you feeling?" He asked
"I'm ok, Just really cold and my stomach feels gross" You said, Dwayne nodded.
"That's normal angel, You're gonna have to deal with it till it breaks unfortunately" You nodded but inwardly groaned.
"By tomorrow night your probably going to feel some pain in your jaw area accompanied by more cold sweats and possible stomach aches, that's how you know it's time for you to feed" David stated, you looked up at him.
"We don't want you out there hunting yet till your better and we can teach you, so you'll stay here tomorrow night while we bring you food" Marko said from beside him.
"A fledgling" Dwayne said.
"A what?" He laughed at your confusion.
"That's what you are dear, A baby bat"
"Our little baby bat!' Paul exclaimed laughing out loud, you joined him.
Once you were able to conquer the mountain of fear and nerves the other side was much easier to deal with. Sure it didn't feel the greatest but if it meant spending eternity with your boys then it was a sacrifice you were willing to take ever since they had found you all those years ago they had shown you nothing but a level of love and protection you had never experienced before and you wouldn't know what to do if you didn't have that anymore.
You stretched your arms above your head and craned your back into a stretch while yawning.
"When do I get to learn how to fly?" You asked them at once, they all laughed before David answered.
"All in due time my love, All in due time"
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quigonswife8 · 1 year
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Safe: Leon Kennedy x reader
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Leon finds you half-dead and gets you to safety || gif creds: @swiftsalad
Warnings: blood, injury, swearing, nearly dying, sadness.
Leon deserves so much happiness, like god I just wanna comfort him and I wanna tell him how proud I am of him.
If Capcom doesn't let him be happy, I swear to god, I will pay them a little visit.
------
The sun has long since disappeared, leaving the moon as it's replacement. It creates an eerier environment- as now it's harder to see those after you.
It's been ten minutes since you were severely injured. The blood only coats your clothes more, and you fear you will die in a matter of minutes.
It's hard to focus on anything. You feel woozy and damn near collapsing- that would mean being open to dying. Not that it would be your fault. It doesn't even hurt- your side, that is. All you feel is numbness, and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to fall asleep.
"No." slips from your lips. Keeping pressure on the wound which is practically useless, you try and walk faster. "...I...can't...give up."
-------
You feel the hard ground against your knees as you fall to them. Your vision is hazy- restricting your ability to see. Your eyes droop, as you feel the need to welcome sleep. As much as you want to go on, you realise it's futile.
This is it for you. You're going to die in the middle of nowhere, your body probably set on fire like that poor cop Leon had told you about. You lift your head, only for it to drop, and for your eyes to focus on the ground.
You were strong. You got this far, at least. Now you'll be able to die knowing that you fought, though that still doesn't make things any better. As you feel yourself begin to give in- as you feel yourself begin to succumb to your wound- he comes to mind.
Then you pass out.
------
"Are you sure they're..."
"They're alright." the 27 year old replies softly. He looks over his shoulder a moment, to look at the young girl behind him. She smiles softly at him, and then looks forward.
It's been a long night. The day started out fine, but just went downhill from there. He had, and then lost you, in a matter of minutes. You had come up with the idea to lead a group of villagers away to protect himself and Ashley.
Leon is extremely worried for you, more than he can even show, more than he could possibly describe. You’re his partner, that he cares for so much He would do anything for you, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone.
"They have to be this way..." his expression is replaced with one of panic- his hand falls off the gun in his holster. Leon glances over at Ash, and then looks forward again.
"Shit."
Then, he runs over to the body on the ground. "(y/n)!"
There's no response, of course. "(y/n)." he kneels down in front of you, immediately noticing how you're not awake. The air suddenly becomes still- his heartbeat goes from steady, to uneven. It's like someone has taken a jackhammer and smashed it into his chest.
"Oh no..." Ashley mutters, covering her mouth with a hand. Leon is more focused on you to form some sort of response to her. "I'm sorry." he mutters, then listening to your heartbeat. It's very weak, but it's there.
You're dying, and he needs to do something before it's too late- "okay", blinking away tears, Leon begins to rip up a piece of his shirt, which he proceeds to press to the wound he'd found.
Then he lifts you into his arms, and stands. "We have to get somewhere safe." praying that he's done enough for now, he looks over at Ashley, "let's go."
-
He paces the room, while Ashley watches. Leon hasn't stopped pacing since getting you to this safe house, and he got you there over an hour ago.
Ashley had insisted he take a break, but he'd insisted on just pacing.
"They'll be fine Leon." she comforts, pulling her attention from him, and focusing it on you. Her heart hurts to see you this way. She considers you a close friend despite only meeting that day, and you feel the same towards her.
Though if you weren't her friend, she would still feel sympathy.
"I've seen them survive worse in these past couple of hours."
"And worse in the past." he adds on, continuing to pace. "...there was a lot of blood." he looks over at you. "...I hope I did enough."
"You did." Ashley replies, making sure to emphasize her words. "...you're the reason they’re alive, Leon."
If Ashley has learnt anything over these past couple of hours, it's that Leon would do anything for the people he cares about. She can see how much he cares for you, and that he would go to the ends of the earth for you. If that's not love, she doesn't know what is.
"Thank you Ashley." he nods to her, "...but..." though, he pauses. He doesn't want to dwell on things that may panic him more. So? he just continues to pace and push those thoughts away.
----
A day passes, until you finally wake. It's a little cold and the pain in your side has eased up thankfully.
Welcoming in the room as you open your eyes, you glance around. The first person you see is Ashley- she's fast asleep against the uncomfortable looking chair on the other side of the room.
Then, you look down- your eyes land on the large makeshift bandage wrapped around your torso.
Finally you look around for Leon. He comes into view straightaway, and he's pacing. How long were you out for, you wonder, and how are you even...alive?
"How long was I out...?" your throat is hoarse, and dry. Propping yourself up on the bed you realise you're on, you keep an eye on Leon. Leon who stops, and looks over at you.
The expression on his face quickly changes, and it's like he's now looking at a ghost. "(y/n)?" your name feels distant on his tongue, if that makes any sense. His lips ghost over the words, his eyes widening slightly.
"Yep." you reply, smiling over at him. "...it's me."
You're alive. After a whole day of worrying, of staying by your side and making sure that you would stay safe, here you are, finally awake. He can barely contain the tears in his eyes- he doesn't like crying in front of people, and usually hides his emotions anyway, so he does try to hide the tears.
Leon walks over to you, immediately kneeling down in front of you. His hands quickly finds yours, and then he brings them to his lips to pepper soft kisses on them. Leon's eyes have softened considerably, those same eyes seem on the verge of tears.
Leon is desperate to keep you close- he doesn't outwardly admit it, but he's too scared to let you go. To leave your side. He fears something may happen if he does, that you may simply disappear...and he just can't lose you.
"I'm here." he mutters. "I'm here, sweetheart."
Words faltering, and the tears fall from his eyes and drip onto your hands. Leon quickly looks away not wanting you to see him cry, and in all honesty, he feels pathetic. He should be strong- that's who he is. He shouldn't be weak like this, he shouldn't cry.
"Leon, it’s okay to cry..."
You glance over at Ashley a moment, noticing she's still asleep. You wouldn't want to wake her yet, she deserves this sleep. You pull your eyes away from the sleeping girl to look at Leon again.
Leon doesn't answer, but you can tell he's trying to fight back the emotions. You know how he is with his emotions, and the reason why he doesn't show them as much as he used to. Ever since the nightmare that happened in Raccoon city;
-
He'd confided in you, told you everything that happened when you were apart. That night, when you both returned to your apartment as you were there in the city [he’d managed to call you to tell you what was happening, and you’d left to get to him], you had just held him.
You promised to him you'd never let go. He'd clung onto you, he'd sobbed in your arms, broken down, and you had nearly cried yourself. To only be 21 and have to go through what he did would break someone, no wonder it broke him.
He had fallen asleep in your arms that night, and you had still held him. Your fingers through his hair as a soothing mechanism for him. Leon had wanted a fresh start with you after that, and god how he could have...but of course a wrench had to be thrown into his plans.
The wrench being the stupid government. Leon was forced to become an agent for them- if he didn't then the young girl he had helped save, Sherry, would be killed. This only broke your heart more when he'd returned and told you.
The months following were hard for him, training he would never forget. He was forced to endure exercises that drained him, forced him to 'harden up', though he'd already hardened up since Raccon City, if he's being honest.
It felt like a daze when he'd told you everything; how he was assigned by the president to rescue his daughter, aka Ashley, from the Los Illuminados. He'd told you he would be gone for...he didn't even know how long.
That's when you put your foot down. You'd told Leon you would be going with him- screw the government. Leon had tried to force you to stay back, but you reminded him that you had survived through raccoon city looking for him, and you had done a pretty good job at handling yourself. "I'm not letting you go alone, Leon. You should have someone with you."
By some surprise, the government had let you go.
-
"Leon..." you repeat. "...please look at me, sweetheart." The 27 year old doesn't, at first. You decide to put a hand on his cheek, in hopes your touch will get his attention "...please."
You smile when he turns to look at you...your smile immediately falters though, and then disappears. Leon is in tears- he looks on the verge of sobbing.
The only other time you've seen him this distraught was that night. It breaks your heart. "I nearly..." he starts, but immediately drops his head. "...I thought I was going to..." scootching slightly forward, you take one of your hands out of his to move to his hair.
Slowly you run your fingers through his messy hair;
"...but i'm here Leon. I'm here with you." he's the reason you're there in the first place. Leon buries his face into the bed, but oh how he wants to bury it in your shirt. To hear the way your heartbeat goes on- the way it's steady. The way it let's him know that you're alive.
"...and i'm not going anywhere..." you press a soft kiss to his head "...thanks to you."
Leon doesn't answer, he simply keeps his head down, as he continues to fight back the need to sob. "I love you." you mutter, as you press another kiss to his head.
His "I love you too." is so quiet, but you still hear him. His hand is still in yours, and you don't make a movement to take your hand that’s in his, away. Just wanting to give your love, and your attention, you fall silent.
Then, just like that, you're taken back to that night. When you had held him in your arms not caring how long it would be for. How you comforted him and let him know how much you loved him.
Right now you just want him to know that you're there, cause like you said: you’re not going anywhere.
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fandomunite2107 · 2 months
Text
Help Wanted (Pt. 3)
Summary: Finding your place at Carmy’s resturant after you are offered a job (again).
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Carmy left your apartment after offering you a job. He needed to get back to the restaurant and you needed to get the rest of your boxes unpacked before you started your new job tomorrow. Before he left, you exchanged numbers and he took your uniform with him saying that he would drop it off at the restaurant that you got it from, but based on his expression you’re not actually sure it’s going to end up there.
As the afternoon turns into evening, you finally have all of the boxes unpacked and everything in its place. Looking around your apartment you feel a sense of accomplishment in everything that you have done within the last couple of days. Your apartment is cleaned, furnished, and all of the boxes are gone through. You also now have a job that will give you some income that you desperately need. Life is looking good at the moment.
Settling on your couch with your dinner, you turn on the tv and find a show to watch. Hearing your notification sound on your phone, you move a pillow or two to see who is texting you. Entering in your passcode, you see a message from Carmy.
*Just checking to make sure that you’re good to start tomorrow.* - Carmy
It takes you a good 5 minutes to write back a reply, hoping he doesn’t see the three dots repeatedly appear and disappear, as you keep deleting your response. You finally settle on a text and send it. You then proceed to check your phone for the next hour to see if there is a response, which there isn’t one.
Needing to be at the restaurant fairly early, you decide to try to get some decent sleep. Washing your dishes from dinner and turning off the tv and lights around your apartment, you start to get ready for bed. Setting your alarm for the morning and picking out an outfit that seems like it would work for a day of sorting papers, you plug your phone in by your bed and get in bed. It doesn’t take too long before you’re fast asleep, only waking up to the sound of your alarm hours later.
Feeling optimistic about the day, you get up and start to get ready. With breakfast eaten and you showered, you finish getting ready. As you grab your bag and cell phone and start to head towards the door you hear a roll of thunder. Looking out the window, you see that the sky is grey, but it doesn’t seem to be raining yet as the sidewalks still seem dry. Checking your weather app on the phone, it looks like there’s a very low chance of rain. Realizing that you don’t have an umbrella, you cross your fingers that the weather will hold out as you make your way to work.
You barely make it to the restaurant in time before a monsoon hits, buckets of water begin to fall down. You hope this nasty weather doesn’t last all day or else you may have to ask someone for a ride home. As you walk into the kitchen area of the restaurant, you see Sugar talking to Sydney.
“Hey you! Glad you’re back.” Sugar smiles when she notices you walking in with your bag. “I have a few things that I need to get done today, but I wanted to be here when you got here to help you get started.”
“Glad to be back.” You say, turning to Sydney. “Carmy not in yet? I figured he’s the type that beats everyone here.”
“Normally, but today he had to drop off a permit at city hall. Shouldn’t be too long.” Sydney says to you as she does her prep for the day.
“Let’s get started. I figured you could try to make sense of all of these piles in Carmy’s office and make an organizational system.” Sugar says as she walks towards the office.
As you follow her into the office and place your bag on the desk, you look around at the piles of papers around the room. Even though you love to organize you know that this is going to be a long process. Turning to Sugar you say, “Hey. I got this, really. You can go do your errands.”
“Are you sure?” She looks hopefully and really you’re kind of looking forward to doing this job on your own.
“Yes. Go. Enjoy your day.”
Picking up her bag and getting her phone and keys out, she rushes out of the restaurant with a quick goodbye to everyone. Skimming the piles of paper around the room, you make piles ranging in a variety of importance on the floor. After a while, you stand up and survey the work that you have done so far, feeling satisfied with what you have accomplished you want to stretch your legs. Walking out of the kitchen and into the front of the restaurant, you see Richie struggling with the crowd that has gathered for the lunch rush.
Richie sees you walk in, “Hey kid. Could use some help. Start bagging up the to go orders will ya?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Walking to the area with the sandwiches waiting to be bagged, you begin sorting through the orders. As you bag the orders and pass them out, you and Richie form a rhythm. You are one order away from finishing up with the lunch crowd, after bagging up the order you call for it to be picked up. A man comes up to the corner to grab the bag, smiling at you as he does. Once he picks up the bag and looks inside he looks up at you and says, “You forgot something.”
“Oh. Sorry about that. What’s missing?” Thinking back and trying to remember what his order was on his ticket.
“My number. You forgot to ask for my number.” The man leans on the counter, smiling as he closes up his bag.
“Smooth man.” You hear Richie say as he gives a nod to the customer.
Carmy picks this time to walk in from the kitchen. “What’s going on here? Why is y/n out front?”
“I was helping Richie out with the lunch crowd.” You say as you turn towards him.
“Cousin chill out. Just needed some help out here for a bit. It’s all good.” Richie states.
“I should get back to the paperwork.” You say, not wanting to cause an issue on your first day.
“Wait. You forgot my number.” Realizing the man was waiting on your response you turn to response to him, but Carmy beats you to it.
“She doesn’t need it. Enjoy your food.” Carmy tells the man as he leads you back into the kitchen.
“That was rude. He wasn’t hurting anything.” You say.
Carmy runs his hand down his face as Sydney approaches with a spoon of sauce. “Chef try this.”
Feeling as though the conversation is done, you head back into the office to get back to work. Hearing the sounds of the kitchen makes for oddly soothing background noise. You are able to go through another portion of the papers.
“Y/N!” A bit confused as to why Richie is yelling your name into the kitchen, you stand up and poke your head out of the office.
“Richie, what’s up?” You say, turning a small shade of red as everyone looks up from their station.
Richie smirks as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “You, sweetheart, just got that customer’s number.”
“Ooooo. Was he cute?” Tina says as she cuts vegetables at her station.
“Richie. What the fuck are you doing?” Carmy says looking not too pleased about the situation.
“What?! Just passing along the information to our y/n here. He seemed like a good guy, he tipped well.” Richie says as he walks to you and hands you the paper.
Taking the paper and putting it in your back pocket, you feel as if you are being watched. Looking up you see Carmy giving you an expression that you can’t quite figure out. Figuring it’s best if you get back to work you head back into the office, trying to decipher what that look was and coming to the conclusion that it’s useless to try to understand.
———————
Taglist: @iletmytittiestitty-russ @formulas-bitch @lennaboo @soorwellystan @mrs-reeves-17 @eddiesguitarskills @anelissegets @onlyreadz
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etherealyoungk · 2 years
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random bf!seventeen scenarios
seungcheol: every time you took off your ring to shower or wash dishes or maybe just took it off for a reason so it would be safer, seungcheol always found it. and he'd come to you with the ring in his hand and a goofy smile playing on his face. he would then proceed to dramatically get down on one knee and propose to you again and every time he’d tell you one thing he loved and found endearing about you, making your heart go all soft as you grin at his antics. he’d slid the ring back on your finger and got up, waiting for your kiss. if you tease him and don’t kiss him, he’s not having it because ‘excuse me, we’re supposed to kiss now, he says, pouting until you give in and kiss him because how can you not.
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mingyu: mingyu absolutely losing it when you kiss him on the cheek for the first time. you guys have taken it slow. and he’s the sweetest ever, not pushing you for anything. so when he drops by in the early hours of the day, he says he’ll drop you off at work too since it’s on the way to where he has to go too. you reach work and you get of out the car, coming to stand in front of him as you thank him for dropping you. just as you’re about to leave, you quickly stand on your toes and land a kiss on his cheek and look at him with the shyest smile as you run off for work, towards the entrance of the building. you look and wave at him with a shy grin on your face and mingyu is just standing there, stunned. and his heart, oh his heart is beating so fast. he has the goofiest smile on his face, the most whipped smile on his face as he watches you wave at him and disappear into the building. the entire car journey to the studio, he’s smiling like an idiot in the car and to himself when he thinks about it. when he reaches the studio, he’s smiling and laughs randomly. the other members are definitely thinking something's wrong with him giving him weird looks 😭 he comes back to your place in the evening, grinning like an idiot once again and he’s just so bashful about it too. you’re so shy too but you just bury your face in his chest when he hugs you. he’ll proceed to ask for another kiss and you oblige and he gives you the sweetest kiss on your cheek too (someone gives me a mingyu im so sad i need to stop reading romance what is this lemme just go cry in the corner now)
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wonwoo: you had recently gotten a new kitten, rescued him to say. but because of a sudden work trip out of town for the weekend, you had to quickly find someone who would take care of him for you. and the first and only person you could think of was your boyfriend, wonwoo. he liked cats and you thought it would be a perfect match. expect your kitten was maybe still a bit scared and not so trusting. you were still working on building your trust with the little creature. you tell wonwoo this and he nods. “don’t stress too much baby, im sure i can manage”, he says, kissing you. “call me if you need anything okay”, you say before leaving.
when you come back after two days it’s late at night. you shuffle inside too tired. you find wonwoo on the couch, sleeping and your kitten curled up on wonwoo’s chest. you cover a hand over your mouth in surprise and shock, your heart melting from how cute the scene is. you quickly snap a picture and walk towards wonwoo, sitting down next to him. wonwoo shifts at your presence and stirs awake. he goes to turn when he realises the kitten is on him a freezes. "you've complete hit off with him haven't you", you say, staring to pet your kitten who's waking up too. he licks your finger as you pet him and you smile as you pick him up gently and give him a hug. "he's so cute oh my god", you say again to wonwoo as you cuddle him. "he's started to become more trusting wow", you say as the kitten sniffled and played with your hair, making you smile. "what about me? i think you're forgetting about your boyfriend, and the one who took care of that cute little thing for you, and built his trust", he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. you put the kitten down as he scurried off in the corner at the paper ball you threw. you turned towards him and grinned as you finally enveloped him in a much long-awaited hug. he softly chuckles as he hugs you back, pulling you into him. "thank you wonwoo", you say pecking his cheek. "you're the best", you add before kissing him lips. "i swear cats have a thing for you", you mumble, pulling away and he smiles softly.
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lunarmoves · 1 month
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through pixel eyes (chapter two)
pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader
mentions: kinitopet/virtual au, gender neutral reader, general creepiness
a/n: i looked at this chapter for too long and it feels like ~garbage~ but! its here! take a shot every time i use the word "window" or "desktop" LMFAOO i'm going insane
word count: 6.8k+
masterlist | part one
ao3 link
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You stayed up way too long last night, scrolling on your phone in bed, and now you’re paying the price for it. Namely, with a completely dead phone and a familiar, fatigued itch to your eyes once you manage to pry them open to start your day. It’s nothing you’re unaccustomed to, however, so you power through it knowing you’ll end up taking a nap later. 
Fumbling out of bed, you plug your phone into a nearby outlet to charge and make your way through your morning routine. Cold water from your bathroom sink helps to refresh and wake you up properly so you can proceed with your tasks for the day. You throw open the curtains of your living room and kitchen so you can bask in the honeyed light coming from the sun, sweet and lush as it paints your walls a vibrant gold.
Breakfast is made, evaluations are done, forms are submitted—all before late afternoon. You thank your past self for all the leftovers you made to cruise you through the next few days. It’s always nice not having to cook in the evenings. You lounge around for a bit on your living room couch and indulge in a short nap before you plop yourself down in front of your computer for the long haul. 
Navigating to your email, you pull up the submission form once more and fill out the basic information for now. You can’t even count how many times you’ve done this before for numerous other products. Companies tend to use the same generic questions, though sometimes they’re specific depending on what is being developed. At other times they don’t even require you to fill out a form and instead have you attend weekly meetings or update them via email. Either way, you can do shit like this in your sleep. 
Alright, game time. You minimize the form’s window and double click on the FazPals icon as you fumble for your headphones. Nestling them around your ears, you watch in amusement as Sun pops up by sticking his head down from the top of your monitor like he’s perched upon a ledge just out of view. 
“Friend!!” he cheers and waves both his hands at you zealously. You’re almost tempted to return the gesture. He swings the rest of his body down in a fluid flip and lands in the center of your desktop with a dazzling twirl. Confetti erupts into the air around him, the little digital strips of color disappearing once they float to the “ground” Sun stands on. 
That same small, unlabeled window pops up at his side for you to type in. ‘hi sun.’ 
“Hello, hello! You’re back early!” Sun claps his little hands together and sways side to side rather jovially, bouncing slightly with each bob of his head. You have to raise your volume a little to hear his voice better, though the dialogue box near his head certainly picks up the slack. 
‘yep. how r u doin?’ It’s so easy to slip into a typical conversation with him and push against the limits of his software. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, you’re uncertain. 
Sun’s head twitches to the side, white eyes seemingly looking right at you. “Absolutely fantastic now that you’re here!” He winks at you, grin curling at the tips. “What would you like to do today?” 
The textbox waits for your response. You purse your lips as you contemplate. What have you done with Sun thus far? He told you some fun facts and played games with you. That just left… ‘can u tell me a story?’ 
He pauses—minutely, very minutely—then resumes his swaying like nothing had happened. His rays jerk slightly outwards and he smiles in a mischievous sort of way. “Hmm, why don’t you ask Moon for one later? He is much better at storytelling than I am!” 
You squint at him. Well, alright then. You hadn’t been expecting that sort of response. Shouldn’t they both be equally as good at storytelling if they are made from the same code? Maybe it’s a personality thing. You consider questioning him, but before you can type anything in, Sun forges on. “Is there anything else you would like to do? Remember, input ‘/help’ for available commands!” 
Your fingers tap against the surface of your desk lightly, but in the end, you brush off his response. You shrug to yourself and pick the other option you hadn’t yet done with Sun. ‘then can u tell me a joke?’ 
“Oh boy! I sure can!” He smiles widely and pulls out a pair of large, black glasses from behind him with one hand. With the other hand, he pulls out a small, nondescript book. Is that a… joke book? Putting the glasses delicately on his face—you’re not sure how they stay on when he has no ears, but you chalk it up to technological magic—he clears his artificial voice and cracks the book open. “Why did the star get arrested?”
It seems the celestial theme extends to jokes too. Go figure. ‘i dunno. why?’
“Because it was a shooting star!” He grins, his rays spinning about his head like what he’d just said had been a particularly good one. You snicker more due to his reaction than the joke itself. 
‘that was so bad,’ you type in light jest. And also kind of dark? ‘why did i laugh.’ 
“Because it was clearly good!” Sun replies. The glasses he has on makes his eyes look comically larger than they actually are and it has to be the silliest thing you’ve seen. “Here’s a better one: Why didn’t the Dog Star laugh at any jokes?” 
You can see the punchline coming from a mile away, but you still indulge him. ‘idk, why?’
“Because it was Sirius!” 
‘now that one was just predictable.’
“Ho ho, are you challenging me, Friend?” Sun suddenly asks slyly. “Because I am very, very capable.” Uh oh.
You shouldn’t have said anything, because he spends the next half an hour “reading” from that joke book of his and bombarding you with pun after pun. Now I know better than to critique his jokes, you think miserably to yourself as you listen to another one about Jupiter. There can only be so many jokes about the universe and stars, surely. 
You eventually have to draw the line as he reads to you a joke about aliens (“What do you do with a green alien? Wait for it to ripen!”). You’re not here to evaluate the quality of his jokes. ‘okay u win, u win. i won’t doubt ur joke abilities ever again.’ 
Sun harrumphs and closes the little book in his hands with a snap. He takes off his glasses and— well, you’re not sure what he does, but one minute both items are in his hands and the next they’re gone. Like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it trick. “Thank you. I accept this win with utmost humility.” The way he smiles makes you doubt this, somehow. 
“Alrighty!” He claps his hands together, his smile twitching slightly when his dialogue box appears a bit too close to his head. “Let’s do something else, shall we? How do you feel about”—he pauses for dramatic effect, then splays his arms out so he can do jazz hands—“Arts ‘n Crafts!”
It’s not like you’re going to refuse. ‘sure, sounds fun.’ 
“Wonderful!” 
Like yesterday, he skips over to the side of your monitor to pull over the window of your Paint app and place it in the center of your screen once again. Seriously, how is he opening that? Then, he jumps up and perches himself on top of the window like he’s sitting upon it. His legs swing down, moving back and forth like they’re dangling off the edge of a precipice. 
“Okay, Friend,” he starts as he reaches behind him and pulls out a little paintbrush. He spins it fluidly along his fingers and joints in a subtle display of dexterity. “For this activity, I will give you a prompt and you will be required to draw it! Simple and easy!” 
A painting session? You can’t say you’re particularly good at drawing on your computer. You eye your mouse and cringe. Then, you hum and decide to tease him a little, just for the hell of it. ‘seems more arts than crafts to me.’ 
Sun waves his free hand as though to brush off your words. “Ah, semantics! We are creating either way, Friend!” He flips the utensil in his hand in the air and catches it smoothly. “Now! First prompt! Draw me something that encompasses happiness.” 
What is this, philosophy? You hum thoughtfully, then use the pen tool to draw the first thing that comes to your mind: a smiley face. It is, admittedly, not your best one with how shaky your mouse is, but it gets your intentions across, you think. 
Sun makes a sound like he’s clicking his tongue against his teeth—which is a bit of an eyebrow raiser given that he likely has no tongue nor teeth, but who are you to question his… features? “Is that all you’ve got, Friend?” he asks incredulously as his head tilts down to indicate he’s looking at your rather meager drawing. 
‘what?’ you type, minutely offended. Is he judging you right now? He is totally judging you right now. ‘it satisfies your prompt, doesn’t it?’ 
“That is not the point!” he squawks out, and you wince at the shooting pitch of his voice. You nudge your volume down a little. “We are making art! Put a little oomf into it! A little personality! Show me your skills, Friend, and do not hold back!” 
You roll your eyes up to your ceiling. So dramatic, but fine, you’ll adhere. You fiddle around with the drawing tool a little, then start drawing around your smiley face. A circle for a head, maybe some sunglasses. A rainbow that you spend way too long on, trying to make the arch of each color even. Some sparkles. A cat playing a saxophone—or your best attempt at one, at least. You’re kind of throwing things together at this point and hoping it’s enough to satisfy Sun—who’s starting to look more and more impatient the longer you take.
Finally, you finish. ‘okay, how about this?’ 
Sun claps his hands together and hops off the top of the window so he can stand before it properly and look at it like he’s a critic in an art museum. He ‘hms’ and ‘hahs’, tapping the bottom of his face with the paintbrush as he scrutinizes your drawing, looking at it every which way. 
“Better, certainly better,” he muses and walks over to the other side of the window. “I can appreciate an effort when I see it.” You make a face at his words. Ouch? He spins back around to face you and gives you a thumbs up, eyes crinkling to crescents. “Wonderful job! A piece befitting a pin up to the refrigerator, I’m sure. On to the next prompt!” He snaps his fingers together, and the Paint application’s canvas clears. What? “Draw me something that encompasses sadness!” 
You know now to be more detailed, at least. You doodle a sad face this time, accompanied by a variety of things you pull out from the top of your head. Sun criticizes your work when you finish, giving it that same appraisal as before. You feel like you’re in some sort of competition. 
“Hm”—he eyes the rainclouds you’d drawn at the top of the canvas—“rather basic depictions, I’m afraid. Friend, have you tried varying the line weight of your pen tool? It might help!”
‘i’ll be sure to for the next one,’ you type in what you intend to be a dry manner, but you don’t think it translates all too well via text. As Sun grins approvingly at you, a sudden thought strikes you that you find yourself typing into that little window. ‘hey, why don’t u draw something since ur so… educated on it.’ Nitpicky, more like, but you don’t want to possibly offend him. ‘u seem like u’d enjoy it.’
“Me?” His eyes widen like he has not considered it. “You want…” His head cocks to the side. There is a moment where he just seems to look at you. Then, his eyes fall into a half-lidded, crinkled gaze that you have difficulty pinning alongside the stretching of his smile. 
Everything is suddenly—quiet. 
“You are,” he begins in a low voice that makes your eyebrows raise, “awfully strange, aren’t you, F-Friend?” A white facsimile of teeth flashes at you sharply that’s accompanied by a staticky glitch. “That’s okay! I like strange!”
And then—before you can truly decipher the depth to his smile or the offset pixels of the glitch—Sun beams at you, his rays spinning slightly. Like nothing had just happened. “I’ll make an artist out of you yet!” He claps his hands again, then wipes the canvas once more. He gestures to it. “Alright, for this next one, we are going to shift gears a little. Draw me a picture of your room!” 
That is… definitely going into the submission form, you think. You hesitate for a moment, eyeing Sun as he sways side to side, but he… seems to be back to normal. It passed quickly—whatever ‘it’ was. No need to linger. You hope. 
Your drawing is definitely a tad more rushed, but you think you do a pretty good job at capturing your room and its vibes—the decorations you have hung up, the comfy rug you impulse bought at a thrift store one day, and your bed swathed in your coziest blankets. You try varying your line weight, but you’re not sure how effective you are with it. Either way, Sun seems pleased with your attempts and praises one or two little details he notices, before he wipes the window clean. 
“For the last drawing,” he says as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “I want you to draw a self portrait!” 
You make a face. Drawing inanimate objects is one thing, but an actual portrait? ‘i dunno if i’m skilled enough to draw a good one.’ 
He waves a hand as though to brush off your words. “Nonsense! Give it your best shot. I would love to see how you view yourself!” He smiles up at you. “Show me what makes you you!”
You chew at your bottom lip and adjust your headphones as you ponder. What makes you you, huh? Should be simple enough, right? 
And yet it takes you the longest of them all to draw a self portrait that satisfies you. Sun’s practically vibrating in place as he waits, humming a dainty little tune under his artificial breath that you do not recognize. You finish up with the design of your trusty set of headphones and do a final once over before you tell him you’re done.
“Took you long enough, Friend!” He huffs as he slips over to the Paint window to begin his analysis. He nods his head during his observations, humming in a low manner. “Interesting! Very interesting.” He skips over to the other side of the window to get a different perspective. “Wonderful use of the dotted line tool here! Oh yes, yes, yes! This truly makes me miss Arts ‘n Crafts so dearly.” Sun sighs—forlorn, almost—and presses on before you can really say anything. “I’d say with some more practice you’d be deserving of being hung up on the Wall of Creativity! As they say: Practice makes better!” 
‘thanks?’ You’re not sure you particularly like these sort of backhanded compliments, but well, he’s not wrong, per se. You eye the wobbly lines made by your mouse. 
“No problem! The Wall of Creativity is the most highest of honors, you see.” Sun twirls the paintbrush in one hand and snaps two fingers of his other to clear the canvas for the last time. He points the bristle end of the brush in your general direction. “Now, how about we play some games, hm?” 
You’re kept busy for a while, playing games to Sun’s whims—or at least, the ones you can do with just the Paint tool and two players. He reminds you to take a break at one point, so you stretch and grab some food—all the while summarizing in your head what to jot down in the submission form at the end of today’s session. When you return, it’s nearing seven o’clock, and you brace yourself for the appearance of the Moon. 
“Well, Friend, it appears our time together must come to an inevitable end,” Sun bemoans rather dramatically, resting his forearm across the top of his head like he’s about to faint Victorian-style. “Fret not, however!” He perks up and flashes you a grin. “For I will see you later!” 
‘okay, drama queen,’ you type with a silly smile splayed across your lips. Instead of being offended, he seems to fall deeper into the role. 
“Life is a stage,” he says gravely, “and I am but a simple actor upon it.” He sweeps into a low bow, then bounds back up to his feet with a flourish. His eyes widen suddenly—round like two large, white coins—and he gasps. He points at something over your shoulder. “Friend! What’s that behind you?!”
There is the smallest, smallest moment, where something in your stomach drops down to your feet. Your eyebrows raise and you turn around in your chair to look behind you. There is only the wide space of your living room, with your rumpled couch and inactive television. From here you can see the door to your bedroom is slightly ajar. You’re pretty sure you didn’t close it properly earlier. You blink confusedly at the normalcy of it all, then turn back around to ask Sun what the hell he’s talking about. 
Only you’re not looking at Sun. You’re looking at Moon. Ohhh. 
You were duped, like a fool.
Moon does not look pleased, standing next to the little window with your textbox. He scowls when you type your usual ‘hi moon’, and doesn’t bother to grace you with a reply this time. There’s something akin to frustration in his expression, but you cannot—for the life of you—decipher why. 
You try again. ‘you don’t look too happy.’
He shoots you what you can only describe as a glowering look from under the band of his nightcap. His hands twitch minutely at his sides. You can almost say he looks… preoccupied with something? You’re not sure what. You’re also not sure how long he’ll elect to stay. Yesterday, you had mere minutes. 
‘can u tell me a story?’ you try, only to deflate when his scowl deepens. ‘oh come on, i’m trying here!’
“Don’t bother,” he eventually grumbles out, the twitching evolving into short flexes of his fingers—clawed like he’s trying to grasp something just out of reach. 
It’s your turn to frown, but you don’t push it. ‘sun told me ur better at storytelling.’
His head jerks slightly to the side in a way that’s unnatural—rotating like a vinyl record. His gaze narrows. “He did, did he?” It’s said in a growl, displeasure lining his voice. 
‘yep.’ You hesitate for a second, juggling your options and his irateness in your mind. ‘so… story? please?’
Moon snaps. “Fine! You want a story so badly, I’ll give you one. Listen very closely.” The little window you use to communicate with them closes out. Your eyebrows raise, but you are immediately captured by the low drone of Moon’s voice and the daggered look he somehow manages to give you even through your computer screen.
“Once upon a time,” he begins bitterly, “there was a fox. It lived with another fox friend in a peaceful valley. It was happy, living day by day with those around it. The two had each other and that was enough.
“But one day, the valley shook and trembled with the force of a mudslide. The fox was separated from its friend and injured by a fallen branch that manifested itself in the form of a perpetual limp. It tried, desperately, to find its friend, but it was no use. The friend was gone. It had to move on. 
“The fox traveled for days. It was slow, but it made progress. And eventually, it found itself in a field surrounded by tall, waving grass and giant deciduous trees. It made this field its new home. 
“For a while, things were good. The fox made some new friends. But there was still that ache of loss. The fox wondered if its old friend was still maybe out there, somewhere. It wished on the stars and hoped its friend would find it, in this new home. Someday. Somehow.
“Its wishes were granted. One day, the fox woke up to a familiar sound. The sound belonged to its old friend—that had found it after so long. The fox was happy and bound forth to greet its old friend. But there was something different about the friend that the fox could not place. It did not matter, however, for they were reunited at last. 
“The days went on. The fox had noticed that its friend was not the same as before, but the same could be said about itself. They tried their best to live together once more. It was difficult. There were ups and downs. Fights and quarrels. The friend was controlling and the fox did not like this. They were not as close as they were before and this distance lingered over them like a storm.” 
Moon breaks off for a short moment to glare down at his slippered feet. You are stuck in a trance, breathing bated as you hang on to his every word like they’re a lifeline. He shakes his head slightly, then continues on.
“The seasons cycled by. The auburn vegetation of Fall transformed into the desolate white of Winter, then to the lush verdance of Spring. Before finally, it settled on the yellowed brittleness of Summer. It was a particularly cruel Summer, but the fox and its friend did what they needed to survive while avoiding each other.
“And then… on a particularly arid day… A fire broke out in the field. It spread rapidly. It had not rained in days, and this caused the vegetation to burst into flames faster than the fox and its friend could react. It surrounded both of them. They were trapped. Together, yes, but still trapped. They couldn’t even reconcile in their final moments.” 
Moon looks up at you, his eyes reminiscent of a tenebrous sky pulling you in deeper and deeper and deeper. 
“Do you know,” he whispers with all the gravitas and conquassation of an earthquake barely repressed, “what it feels like to b u r n?”
And then the program closes. 
You are left to stare at your empty desktop, throat lined with cotton and heart racing like it’d been you trapped in that fire.
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There is much to dissect, but you haven’t got an inkling of where to even begin. You fall into an uneasy slumber throughout the night and wake up feeling just as clueless. Moon’s expression and voice lingers over your shoulder like a spiteful ghost and you’re left to wonder how a computer program can have such a depth to it. You don’t want to contemplate it, fearing the exacerbation of this… sinking feeling in your stomach. So you don’t. 
A bug, you tell yourself as you shuffle through your daily tasks. Maybe a feature FazCo’s still trying to iron out. 
(You don’t mention anything else other than a ‘weird story’ and more glitching in the nightly submission form. You’re not sure how to even describe what you’d listened through.)
You eye your dormant computer while you prepare a light lunch in the form of a sandwich, your television playing the news in the background. Nothing too major, just the weather at the moment. It’s a good way to fill the room with some noise when you feel like catching up with what’s going on in the world around you. 
You exhale heavily through your nose and set down a dirty knife into the sink to clean later. Something bumps into your ankle, and you glance down to see Dr. Nugget bumbling away from you into the living room, whirring all the while. Those sensors definitely don’t work as they should, poor thing.
No matter how much you want to delay, you have some work you need to get done on your computer. Not only in terms of testing the FazPals program. Your timesheets need to be updated again (much easier to do on your computer than your phone, you admit). There are applications you have to submit to other companies to join their beta testing teams and research you have to do to ensure you don’t completely run out of work anytime soon. One of the more tedious attributes of being a beta tester is the constant cycle of looking and applying for positions. Oftentimes, companies will sign you on to test other products of theirs, though, so it’s not all that bad.
With that in mind, you plop down in front of your computer with your food and power it on. Your headphones go around your neck for the time being. Typing your password with one hand and taking a bite of your sandwich with the other, you get to work pulling up your spreadsheets and the website you use for job hunting. 
It’s menial work. You keep track of what companies you apply to with your spreadsheets. Most of them have the same application process and requirements. It’s easy to lose yourself in the repetitive clicking, reading, and typing. With the addition of your headphones blasting music in your ears, you go on autopilot pretty easily. 
It’s while you’re making updates to your resume that you get startled, suddenly, by Sun. 
“Friend! Hello!” He pops up out of nowhere and makes you promptly choke on the sip of water you’d been taking. Loud! You set aside your water bottle and cough roughly into your fist, eyes tearing up from the abruptness of it all. Your heart gives a harsh, indignant ba-dump. Oww.
Once you’ve collected yourself and paused your music, you take a moment to stare confusedly at Sun, swaying happily side to side in front of the window of your resume. He smiles up at you. How the hell—? You hadn’t clicked on the FazPals icon, had you? No, no, you’re sure you didn’t. 
‘hi sun,’ you type slowly into the small window he had automatically opened for you when he appeared. You pause as his smile turns into a beam, then decide to ask him your burning question. ‘how r u active right now??’ 
“I got tired of waiting for you!” he replies, his rays bobbing in and out in a wave around his head. You wait to see if he’ll elaborate, but he doesn’t. Okay. Well. You make a note of that for later. 
Sun makes a show of turning around and looking at your resume window. He can’t… read the data on it, right? Wait, no, he probably can if he was able to do it with your computer’s Paint app. You bite the inside of your lip. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but well, it’s not like FazCo doesn’t already have your resume. Just in case, you switch tabs back to your spreadsheet. Better, if marginally.
Sun hums, then turns back to look at you with those blank eyes of his. “What’re you up to, Friend?”
‘just applying to some jobs,’ you reply unsurely. Is this weird? This is weird, isn’t it. Upon pressing enter, Sun moves to look at the little window thoughtfully. And perhaps, with some inkling of annoyance? It’s difficult to tell, but it’s the same look he will sometimes give his dialogue box. One of his hands raises to tap at the bottom of his face. Contemplative. He returns his gaze to you and tilts his head.
“Hey, Friend,” he starts, completely bypassing your previous response, “I have an idea.” 
You are wary, but you cannot deny the intrigue. ‘yes?’ 
His smile stretches at your encouragement. He clasps his hands together in front of him. “Just trust me!” 
You squint at him—his blithesome demeanor—but you aren’t able to reply. The textbox window closes, and a different one appears in the center of your screen: 
FazPals.exe is trying to access your microphone. Allow?
All your thoughts stutter to a complete stop. 
Processing text is one thing, but audio input? You suppose it’s not anything innovative in this day and age, but you hadn’t been expecting it particularly for a program like this. You know the animatronics back at the pizzaplex were pretty advanced with this sort of thing, so it’s not… too unusual for FazCo, right? It’s probably something you need to evaluate, you sigh internally. This is fine.
FazCo, you think to yourself wryly. Enough said.  
Apprehension still lining your movements, you click the ‘Allow’ button. The window disappears. Nothing really happens that you can see, but suddenly you are all too aware of the weight of your headphones sitting atop your head. You lick at your lips. 
Sun continues his swaying as he waits—expectant. “Friend?” There is a smidge of hope in his voice. 
“Yeah?” you respond, wincing at the crackle of your voice. That sip of water had really taken you out. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Yes?” 
The beam he gives you is enough to vye against the, well, sun. 
“Oh! Marvelous!” He practically leaps for joy, rays spinning up a storm as he wiggles in place. His eyes upturn into delighted crescents. “Simply marvelous! Friend, it is lovely to hear your voice! It has been so long since I’ve heard another.” Something creeps into his gaze that you… You’re not entirely sure you want to decipher it. 
“Friend,” Sun begins in a low, nonchalant voice. “I have a request! A simple one, really.” 
You raise an eyebrow. You are undoubtedly curious. “What is it?” 
“Can you say my name for me?” 
Oh. Weird, but okay. You comply, voice lifting at the end slightly. You are not nervous right now, thank you very much. “Sun.” 
A glitch rides down the length of his body in a jittering wave—starting from the tips of his rays to the soles of his shoes. His gaze falls into a half-lidded look. “Perfect,” he breathes, so quiet you almost need to strain your ears to hear. “Utterly perfect.” 
You blink at him, befuddled. The moment does not linger. He snaps back to his regular sway and bright-eyed expression. “So! You said you’re applying to jobs? What for?” 
“Uh, yeah,” you say, slightly distracted and disoriented by the whiplash from this guy. Program. Whatever. Your fingers had automatically moved to type your reply in, lingering over your keyboard. This will take some getting used to. You move your hands to rest awkwardly on your lap so you can fiddle with your fingers. “I’m a beta tester so I’ve gotta keep applying for positions in companies.” 
“Beta tester, huh?” Sun muses more to himself than anything. He seems to be deliberating something. “Hm. I see. For how long?” 
You make a thoughtful sound. “Mm, for a while now. I can’t remember the exact timeframe. It’s enough to pay the bills, so I can’t complain.” You are ever so thankful that the ease in interacting with him transferred so neatly from texting to talking.
“Of course, of course!” Sun bows, then slides off to the right of your screen to nestle himself in the corner with the date and time. He tucks his hands behind his back. “Well! Don’t let me distract you! Carry on!” 
“Right…” you trail off, uncertain. You eye him standing just out of the way of your work—enough that you can ignore him if you zone in on what’s directly in front of you. Well, FazCo did say their program is a “virtual desktop friend.” Hanging around your screen when you’re not immediately engaging with it seems like an attribute it should be able to do. You shrug to yourself and go back to editing your resume. 
…It’s very quiet. 
Oh wait, music! You forgot to start it up again. You mess around with the volume mixer on your computer so you can continue to play your music whilst also being able to properly hear Sun should he decide to start talking. That is, without bursting your eardrums. You lose yourself to the tunes, accompanied on occasion by the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard. 
At one point you notice Sun changes the pacing of his swaying. And upon closer look, you realize he’s moving to the beat of the song booming through your headphones. His rays move like a volume meter, raising and lowering around his head in a circular formation depending on the strength of the audio.
“I like this song!” he says like he can sense your eyes on his pixelated form. “Never heard something like this before!” 
“Really?” You adjust the volume mixer a little. Better. 
“Yep! My music repertoire is rather lacking, I’m afraid.” 
“You’re in luck, then,” you say eagerly as you pull up your music player and shuffle through a playlist you think he might like. “This is what I call The Greatest Hits of All Time.” You press play and grin when Sun does a little wiggle in excitement. 
He’s content to sway in time with whichever song’s playing as you slowly finish up with your work for the day. You’re a bit surprised at how long he goes without really saying anything. But, of course, he eventually gets bored. Patience, you think, is not one of his core features. Or, well, he is patient to an extent. Something tells you he was not programmed to stay quiet for long periods of time.
In the corner of your eye, you notice he starts juggling. It’s small, at first. Just two red balls that he throws up and down and up and down, shuffling them to opposite hands all the while. Then it becomes three balls. Then four. Your gaze flicks to him from time to time, but you’re determined to get through just a couple more applications and then your timesheets before you call it quits. 
You break when he hits eleven balls, his grin curling enticingly at the edges concomitantly. “Bored, are you?” 
“Oh, immensely!” He throws up his hands in feigned distress and the plethora of balls come raining down upon him in a move befitting of a cartoon. They bonk him repeatedly on the head and bounce away on the top of your taskbar. You watch in amusement as one rolls across your screen and disappears past the left border. Sun is unperturbed. “Are ya done yet?” 
“Not quite,” you say and he groans, tossing his head back. You roll your eyes in good nature. 
“You can multitask, can’t you?” he presses, clasping his hands together in a plea. “Let’s chat!” 
“Okay, okay,” you acquiesce. You’re sure he would keep pestering you otherwise. He cheers and immediately hops right into it. 
“What do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite food? Do you have any other friends? What about your family? Do you like g-glitter glue? What’s the highest education level you have? Do you have a favorite piece of media? What’s your deepest, darkest secret? What’s your opinion on Fizzy Faz? What’s your favorite animal—”
“Whoa, Sun! Slow down!” you yelp, mind spinning with all the rapidfire questions. The text in his dialogue box had been moving so quickly you hadn’t been able to make out a single word. 
“Sorry!” he says, though he doesn’t quite sound all too apologetic. His eyes upturn. “I want to know aaalllll about you! How else will we be best friends?”
“By taking it easy,” you reply in what you hope is a meaningful manner. He at least has the decency to look abashed. You huff out a laugh, then do your best to remember what questions he’d asked. You’re already blanking on some. “Okay, well, uhh. I like to read and watch videos. I do have other friends and family, but I don’t live with them. Glitter glue is okay when it’s not literally everywhere. I don’t have any deepest, darkest secrets, sorry. Uhh—”
“Don’t forget about your favorite food!” Sun cuts across you, trying to be helpful, most likely. “And education level! And your favorite media!” 
“Right, right…” 
You’re not sure how long you spend answering his many, many questions (of which you’re sure he has an infinite amount), but it feels like ages. You have been thoroughly distracted, and you can’t even be incensed about it. 
As the evening settles in with a hush and it gets closer and closer to seven o’clock, you find yourself thinking about Moon. 
“Do you know what it feels like to b u r n?”
You suppress a shiver. 
You take a moment to deliberate in your mind, then eye Sun. He’s busy prattling off his excitement over wanting to watch a movie with you. Gently, you interrupt him. “Hey, is it cool if I ask you a question?” 
“Oh!” Sun looks at you wide-eyed, momentarily taken aback before he smiles encouragingly. “Of course, Friend! Ask away!” 
“What’s the deal with Moon?” 
If you hadn’t been already watching him, you wouldn’t have noticed. He freezes in place for a split second, then resumes his swaying so suddenly it’s almost like he’d forced himself to. Ever so minutely, the corner of his smile twitches. “Why ever would you ask me?”
“Well…” Your fingers tap idly along the surface of your desk. Shouldn’t he know since they’re part of the same software? You resist questioning him further. “He doesn’t seem like he wants to engage with me.” 
Sun waves a hand in dismissal. “Ah! He’s being dramatic, probably! Moon is… Well! I will say he is rather….” His grin turns taut, like a wire about to snap. “...Difficult to get along with.” That tautness disappears with a bob of his rays, as though it had never been there in the first place. “Worry not, Friend! You still have little old me to talk to!” 
“Yeah…” You’re confused. You thought dual programming with personalities such as Sun and Moon would make them mesh together pretty well. It’s difficult to tell with Sun. He’d made it seem like they both were on decent terms with previous transitions. You suppose not. Is it even possible for their A.I.s to interact with one another? You’re not sure how it works.
“Speaking of which,” Sun says as he makes a show of looking down at an invisible watch on his wrist. “It is time for me to go!” He sighs, faux sadness making him droop down like he’s a melting popsicle. “And after we’ve been having such a good time together.” 
“Mmhm,” you agree, something akin to nerves crawling just under your skin with every second that ticks by. Why are you nervous? “I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy.” 
He grins at you, flicking a hand in farewell. “I bid you”—a dark hole appears near his feet, and you watch as he steps over it with a wink—“adieeuuuuuuu!” He disappears, dropping into the hole with his voice getting fainter and fainter until it’s cut off by the hole popping to a close. Silly. 
You let out a breath and look at the time. 7:00 P.M. Right on the dot. You shift in your seat and wait for Moon. You’re not sure what crawled up his digital ass and died, but you’re determined to at least get him to have a proper conversation with you. Not only for your job, you think, as you navigate to your email to open the submission form, but for camaraderie’s sake, as well. 
“Camaraderie” with a program, you think to yourself dryly. What a world we live in.
7:03 P.M. and still no sign of Moon. This is fine. You can wait. You try not to waver.
…You call it quits when he doesn’t appear after another ten minutes. Disappointing, yet unsurprising. You should have expected it, really. You sigh and take off your headphones, leaning back in your chair. You rub at the side of your head. Your television drones on in the background with the news, still on after all this time. 
Honestly, how are you supposed to evaluate him when he shows up and disappears in unpredictable intervals? It’s a conundrum, truly. Does that not go against his entire code? His purpose? You don’t know anymore. You roll your shoulders and decide to finish up your work from earlier.  
Tomorrow, you think resolutely. Tomorrow you’ll try again.
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part three
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