#source: loaded weapon

[polysaur]

Emmy Mech Poll 5.3

Last batch of melee weapons. Once again I suggest waiting on the cooldowns to see their charged attacks.

Pulse Blade: (ol' reliable, 2 attacks and 1 charged, mid cooldown, great all rounder)

Stun Baton: ( 3 attacks and 1 charged, fast cool down, much like the dagger but with less damage. It applies a "stun" effect though)

Light Wave Blade: ( Despite being a melee weapon, it can be initiated at a range. There is also a red variant that does higher regular damage but less charged damage)

Coral Oscillator: ( Functions like the pulse blade but with only 1 regular (yet very devastating) attack and a very strange charged attack that can be initiated at a distance)

[ozzgin]

Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)

Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.

Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.

You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.

He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.

He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.

"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.

"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.

While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.

"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.

You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.

You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.

"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.

"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."

Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.

On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.

Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.

[turttastic]

Hey guys, I know there are a lot of really severe tragedies in the world right now and I in no way desire to push those aside, nor do I really want to load another thing onto people's plates, but anyone here in the US needs to be aware that on March 11, 2024, an agricultural company known as NEW Cooperative spilled 265,000 gallons (1500 tons) of liquid nitrogen fertilizer into the East Nishnabotna River. This is the ecological equivalent of dropping a nuclear weapon into the river. Over a 60 mile stretch downstream of the spill its been a near total ecological wipeout for the river. So far, an estimate of 850,000 fish have been killed from this spill, and that's to say nothing for the insects, amphibians, reptiles and birds that relied on or lived in this river. It is literally filled with animal corpses. This river flows into the Missouri River and the impacts will likely continue to spread far past this 60 mile stretch. And this disaster has barely made local tv in Iowa, let alone national tv, despite the fact that 60 miles of river ecosystem were just wiped out in a way that may be impossible to recover from. And what's the punishment for this heinous act of destruction through negligence, you might ask? As it stands, its looking like a 6k fine from the DNR to the company. Not 600k. Not 60k. 6000 dollars. The maximum fine that the DNR can charge in Iowa is 10k unless they decide to take it further in court. That's why these spills are so frequent in Iowa: it's literally cheaper to eat the fines than it is to bother properly storing fertilizer. I don't know exactly what the proper course of action is here, or who needs to be contacted to enact change--I'm hoping someone more knowledgeable than me will chime in with that information--but at the very least, every one of us should know. Every one of us should make sure we don't forget this. And every one of us should blacklist NEW Cooperative fertilizer unilaterally.

Sources:

[angelesca]

w.c. ~6.5k me? GONGAGA | (assasin) blade x gn!reader | warning for mild yandere, vague descriptions of injuries, red string of fate, everyone ships you and blade (guardian angel? more like boyfriend), reader fights for their life, xianzhou cast and stellaron hunters being stupid, silly as usual, skott is your (ex)fiance LUL💔exploring blade's past (some character study), reader implied to be yingxing's past lover reincarnated, a sidedish (whole lot) of angst, implied memory loss from mara

footnotes are included at the end of the post, including Chinese myths and proverbs :)

a/n: ignore the fact that the hair and eye is flipped😀and me using proper grammer? insane. happy 100+ followers!!! congrats again to blade for winning the poll, still the man of our dreams huhu BLADE SMOOCHERS LESGOOOOOO!!!

inspired by [touch within the abyss] (ILOVETHISMANGA SOMCUH), listening to [heavens official's blessing's] soundtrack while writing and editing was AMAZING omgg, and blade using butter knives as weapons was def taken from [black butler] lol

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

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Leave your request below. Reviews are uneccessary as all jobs are guaranteed to be well within the responder's capabilities.

Scrooooooll.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Oho? A potential challenger to test the results of my training? Come, fight me! ↳ User 'XxEradicator_Of_Dust360xX' replied: Please stop using Jiaoqiu as a barbell. User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle, can you find a pink-haired girl for me? She's skipping her training again... (；⌣̀_⌣́) Oh, leave her alive too, please. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ User 'Mr.ColdFeet' has left a review: Dearest customer, thank you for ordering the '10x "Belobogian-sourced" strawberry milk drink!! Here, I'll leave you a good review as token of my appreciation~ [Deleted by moderator] User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1': Hey, how is this website legal?😡Cease your business at once, I'm getting too many patients! User 'mostsanestbladefan' has requested: rerun when💔 ↳ Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme' replied: lmao

... Seems trustworthy enough. Although, why is everyone talking as if this was a hiring for a hitman? Wasn't this a fortune teller who can alter red string fates? Bah, whatever. This may be your last chance of escape, and you are desperate.

You press the request button and start typing:

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

Ping! A reply already? A private chat has been created. You click on it.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Your full name.

You type it out.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

...

They completely stop. "Huh?"

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Sorry.

“Haha! I like to bully my subordinates, haha! Oink, oink– o–oops, f–force of habit,” Skott, yes, Lyndon Skott, your “insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance” wipes his mouth as if hoping to erase his words. If only it was possible to erase his entire existence too. “Anyways, fetch me my dog feed."

Out of all people, Skott is the worst possible candidate known to man. Stomach and back pains, cramps, coughs, sneezing. Every side effect ailed you anytime he did anything, as if you were an illness and the universe was trying to cough you out of its immune system.

“Here,” you say detachedly, handing it over.

Skott does a double-take. “This is... a ray gun? Where did you even get this?”

Oops. That was supposed to your last resort. “I think we're out, Skott. Your eating habits cost too much, even a dog doesn't eat twenty packs everyday.”

Skott suddenly stands up, hands on hips. “Why, you seem so tired,” Duh. “Well, it's nothing that I, Skott, the best possible candidate known to man, can't solve,” he pushes his lips together, leaning towards you. “C'mere... kissy kiss–”

You pinch his cheek before he could do anything. Skott whimpers pathetically. “I'm gonna go out and buy some dinner,” you grumble, immediately walking off.

“O–o-oink!”

Your phone blinks at you. You groan. Why did they ghost you? What's wrong with your name?

“Might as well buy more dog food too...” you mumble sourly, heading off to your usual supplier around the corner.

The store owner enthusiastically greets you, rubbing their hands together. “My, my, how lovely to see you again, my dear. Here to buy more food for your chihuahua? Haha, he sure does eat a lot for a small breed dog!”

You force a crooked smile, feeling crazy for having to lie about your fiance being a dog. “Yep... I'm here again... sadly.”

“Your chihuahua prefers wet food, right? Why don't you take a look at this new product? The texture of the loaf is incredibly soft—perfect for their jaws—which makes for easy consumption. High-quality lean meats mixed with fats, an ideal diet for a high-energy dog.”

Skott being as insane as he is would eat anything. “I'll try this one out.”

“Amazing!” The store owner beams, grinning. “Your boyfriend seems to agree too!”

“Boyfriend?” Did Skott follow you? No way. Skott doesn't walk; he marches to announce his presence with pride��there's no way you didn't hear his obnoxiously loud footsteps.

Ping! A chill runs down your back.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Behind you.

“AAAH!!” A sching! flies past your ears, a clear sound shot straight, streamlined, like a bullet. You dodge the sword aiming for your head, lodged in the wall against your back, dog food in hand. 

The pathway you escaped along reclined into the shadows the further you ran, a detached wing from the body of Aurum Alley. An abandoned passage. Yet, two pairs of footsteps treaded the ground—one too many.

“W-who are you? I’ve done nothing wrong! I make sure to eat all my veggies- OH!” you swivel in time to miss the sharp object that would’ve hit your ankle. You look down. “A butter knife?!”

“Why are you running from me?” the voice calls out.

“Why are you trying to kill me?!” you shout back. 

A pair of crimson eyes unravel behind the curtain of shadows. Highlighted with a target on your head, the spotlight shines on you, casted as the main character by this stranger.

They approach, way too close for your liking. A daunting waft of smoke and metal haunts the life out of the air, making it almost hard to breathe. Moonlight descends his hair, a silk ladder, ropes of dark strands rolling over his shoulders.

Stuck in a limbo with no escape. Great. “... Anything but the dog food... Skott throws a fit when he doesn't get his daily fix,” you mumble, pushing yourself onto the wall as far as you can, hoping to blend into it.

A smirk on his lips. A phone is suddenly shoved in your face. You groan at the brightness, cutting your vision into a thin strip of magnifying glass as you squint.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Is this the target?

There's picture of you leaving the house.

Guest_User#1001 replied: Yes! Get'em already!!💥

“Me?” You cannot believe your eyes. “Someone requested a hit on me?”

Guest_User#1001: Teehee

You’ve tried everything to escape. Firstly, you ran around the neighbourhood like a headless chicken, yet his legs easily erased the distance, tormenting your back with his glare.

Attempted bribing with berrypheasant skewers? Failed. Songlotus cake? Nope. Steamed puffergoat milk? His eyes flicked to it for a moment. Almost. 

And throughout everything, all you heard was an onslaught of hmphs and grunts rolling boulders over you, crushing your dignity in mocking. Save for the one instance he muttered his name to you, Blade.

Qingque, your fellow co-slacker worker, points a finger behind you, her face puckered. “Who the hell is that?”

“Don’t mind him,” you groan. Surroundings swirl, doused in a liquor poured by the hand of your exhausted mind. “He’s just my assassin.”

“How are you saying that so casually??”

Blade is glued to your side even at your workplace, the Divination Commision. But you are more angry that nobody is mentioning why this very obvious outsider, who isn't even dressed in uniform and is holding a sword, is following you.

“Hey,” You walk up to a random colleague. “Does this guy not look crazy dangerous?” You point behind you.

“Hm?” They blink. “I thought he was your significant other?” ??? Everyone must be tricked by his beauty!

It's worse that Blade only scoffs, giving no closed answer to their question.

At your desk, Blade is judging you when you quickly switch your monitor off your Celestial Jade game when Fu Xuan enters. In the break room, where there's even less people around, he's shaving butter knives with his sword into weapons of mass destruction as you drink your tea.

Most ridiculously, anytime Qingque—or anyone—does as much as tap your shoulder, Blade brandishes his sword at them. Mumbling and grumbling something about, “they're mine, not yours(?)”

“Ohoho~ what a handsome boyfriend you have!"

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

Jiaoqiu, your local coriander supplier—and you, his coriander dumpster—slowly turns around, smiling, as if garbage sludged out of your mouth.

Sensing dread root in your guts, a cold sweat running its tap, you turn to Blade– “HOLY–” You dodge his sword in the nick of time. Blade clicks his tongue, drawing his eyebrows together. Tch. “Did you see that?! He tried to–”

“Ah, how kind of you.” You snap back to Jiaoqiu who is patting his chopping board.

Dumbfounded, you trace the sword that landed squarely on the chopping board, having sliced a once-large-pile of coriander finely. A precision awarded to well-trained chefs who specialise in food and not cutting people up.

“Wow, what a handsome and capable boyfriend. Just like a guardian angel. Ha. Ha.” Jiaoqiu nods in approval.

“You can't even see him.”

“Oh, right.”

You came home with twice the normal haul of coriander, gifted to Blade, who didn't need "such useless sentiments", and stuffed it into your bag. You threw some extra into Skott's dog food.

Moonlight uncovers two figures standing on the rooftops, watching.

“General, is that…” A voice trails off.

“Yes, there's no mistaking him.” Another voice.

“Join me, Yingxing. B◼◼◼◼n◼... she may still live this way. And you... you need to save them too, do you not?”

Yingxing, the name was spat, drawled, torn through teeth, pulverizing the skeletons of each letter, leaving its corpse that would not survive to become a living legend. 

Before his downfall, Yingxing was an exemplary but arrogant blacksmith under Huaiyan, and a member of the legendary High-Cloud Quintet. Drinking partners with D◼◼ ◼e◼◼, sparred with J◼◼◼l◼◼, smiled with B◼◼◼◼n◼, grew with Jing Yuan, who would bust his ears about there being one-thousand-three-hundred-and-fourteen gingko trees to ever live on the Xianzhou Luofu.

And finally, Yingxing was the lover of a free-spirit who walked the path of the Trailblaze. A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again after the devastation of his homeland.

Blade woke up, breathing away the vice around his neck, fingers opening and closing. Reaching for someone who was not there, a phantom. But they were his. They belonged to him. It's all he has, and he won't let go.

You decide to go to an actual fortune teller, explaining all the events until now.

Although they are masked with a hood, obscured in secretive shadows, the candle on the velvet-robed table carves out the frown on their face. “This sounds like a couple's bickering. And I do not want to be treated as a couple's therapist.”

“Why does everyone say that?! He's far removed from being my lover!” You could cough up blood.

“Then what's he doing here?”

“Who?”

Ping!

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Behind you.

Surely not– “AAAH!” you shout, almost having a heart attack. Sure enough, Blade is standing behind you, arms crossed.

“Stop running,” he demands.

“So you can kill me? Nu-uh,” you taunt.

The fortune teller clears their throat. "If you want me to trace your red string, I can do so," they direct the conversation. "Red strings of fate are divined by Yue Lao¹, and are hard to alter as it moulds one's fate."

“So, what does it look like?” You hold up your pinky.

The fortune teller is silent for a moment, rubbing their forefinger against their thumb, testing the unsteady fabric that weaves the air. The both of you are dressed under a skirt of silence until they stop entirely. Tension frays its string, ready to snap.

They share a glance between you and the person looming behind. A long sigh in front of you. A small chuckle behind you. “You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You look at Blade. He looks back. You stare. He turns his face away.

Couples event! Lovebirds get a whopping 50% discount off our menu!

A brilliant idea pops in your head. “Blade, I know we're not on the best terms but– AH?!” You dodge a butter knife. The blade lands by the feet of a young woman, with orange hair tied into a ponytail, who almost collided into you with her tripod.

Blade already knows from the shine in your eyes. “Ridiculous.”

Bring your plus one to our story-telling theatre! Pay the price of one ticket for the value of two!

“How about this one?”

“Absurd.” Blade pulls you away, your feet dragging along. A short, green hair girl had barely missed setting you on fire with her tail.

Buy one-get-one-free steamed puffergoat milk for lovers! Come as two, and leave satisfied as two!

You hand the free cup of steamed puffergoat milk to Blade. "You're a fan of this, huh?"

Hmph. He takes it, face turned away. You think it's the trick of the lanterns, but a dust of red seems to colour Blade's ears.

This will be my breakthrough, Yanqing thought excitedly, General will certainly rely on me more if I catch this sneaky man!

“Boo!”

“AAAH! Y-Yunli?”

Yunli latches onto Yanqing's shoulders, who is hiding behind a wall, observing you and Blade who are sitting at a table outside a restaurant. Blade refills your teacup without you noticing. “Whatchu hiding?”

“Nothing,” Yanqing brushes Yunli off like dust. “Just on a mission.”

Yunli hums, stifling a smile. “Hmm... I'll watch your back then.”

Yanqing nods, straightening his back, and marching towards the table like a soldier. Yunli will be entertained by this for centuries, and will be rolling in her grave thinking about it.

A cough for attention. You slowly look up, meeting a blonde boy in blue clothes.

“Jing Yuan's kid…” A flash of recognition in Blade's eyes. “Did he order you? How bothersome.”

“Of my own accord, I came to arrest you”—Blade stuffs a piece of youtiao in Yanqing's mouth, a spoonful of congee to chase, and a bite of tofu pudding to finish—“Mm, good food.”

“You need to grow taller," Blade says. "Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,” Yanqing says, offended, taking a seat at the table.

“Should I order more?” you ask, confused. Was Blade always good with kids? It's kinda cute.

Behind the wall, Yunli rubs her temple. “Yanqing... were you that hungry to forget your mission?”

“I have to go, Yingxing. The Express is calling my name.”

“Ridiculous. Just stay here, you don't need them. Is there an imperative rule demanding you to board?”

A shake of their head. “Our lives are drastically different,” the voice choked out, “you have a past here with fond memories and companions. You belong in Xianzhou Luofu. But me, I have yet to lay my home.”

He scoffs. “You mean to say that you do not love me as much as you thought?”

“I love you most to search you out before anyone else. And I have loved you too much by entering your world when I shouldn't, knowing that this would happen.”

“Why are you leaving only now, when I have even fewer years to live? Will you not allow me to spend my last dregs of life with you?” Or does he have to force them himself?

“... I do not want to see you draw your last breath,” an inhale. “You would understand too, if you were also a long-lived species. Having to watch loved ones lose to time again and again, it never gets easier.”

How ridiculous, Blade thought, blinking away sleep as he stands guard outside your house, that he would end up in their exact situation.

Since the visit to the fortune teller, Blade's assassination attempts have been null. A change of heart? How charismatic you are. But then why is he still carrying your bags and listening to your rambles? And why is he swatting away people who get too close to you?

You can't bring yourself to ask him so you keep walking ahead, doing random things with your arms to distract yourself. Isn't this like... having a boyfriend? You slap your face.

Blade watches your back, tracing the flex of your body when you stretch, the snippet of your smile when you turn your head to the side, you looking back to check if he is still here.

Blade rarely demonstrates himself with his face. But if he were to release the tense muscles that he forces to stiffen, you'd realise that he's been holding back a smile all along.

He watches you for a bit longer, letting the script unwind past. The future is cast in stone, but dripping water can penetrate the rock with enough time.²

...

...

... Click, click.

Heels click down a corridor, purple hair tousled over her shoulder. She stops in front of double doors. Darkness throws its hunter's net, trapping, a natural selection in place to filter in only those who live to survive.

“Hmm, I see,” the woman echoes. “Yes, in Xianzhou currently.”

“Change of plans? Bladie would... Blade stays true to his name—there's no one he can't cut down.”

“I understand.” A small chuckle. “My regards, dearest Elio.”

“You again?” Blade grumbles, offering Yanqing no more than a short glance. He lends a levitating hand just behind your back as you walk up the hill. “What? Hungry?”

Yanqing points at Blade. “I'm here to arrest you!”

“For what?” you ask, looking back. You notice something quickly retracts, but everything looks pretty normal. Perhaps it was just a bug flying.

Yanqing throws his hands in the air. “He's an assassin!”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” You suddenly have a hard time looking at Blade. In your defense, he's been pretty nice lately. But catching him staring at you? You'll have to get used to that.

Just behind a tree, two people huddle together, cautiously sneaking glances.

“Firefly, why is he smiling like that behind their back? What's with that disgustingly sweet look??”

“I have no idea Silverwolf... isn't that what lovers do?”

Silverwolf tilts her head, tapping absentmindedly on her phone. “Blade... I haven't seen him like that.” She observes the smile peeking on Blade's face, hiding from sight as he stands behind you. As always. “We're supposed to help him with this mission as per Kafka's command, but…”

Firefly, with her gaze, draws along Silverwolf's line of vision, studying. “He must be happy here,” she says. “Oh, I'll miss his driving…”

“Who's a good boy~” you coo, scratching a stray puppy's head. The puppy closes its eyes, tongue wagging.

Blade crouches near you, watching you shower the puppy with affection, completely forgetting him. The dog looks at him, tilting its head. Hmph. “Annoying.”

“Why is that your first word of the day?!”

You see a sliver of a smile as Blade casts his gaze down.

Picking the puppy up, you hand it to Blade who awkwardly holds it in the air. You laugh. “Wouldn't it be so cute if this puppy stayed like this forever?” you say to no one in particular.

Blade pauses, hair slightly dancing in the wind, crested in golden gingko leaves. He finally says, “An eternity is of the same weave as an abyss, to never see an end. Yet, if all lived forever...”

Blade looks up at the gingko canopy, wistful, stern. But he looks at you with a soft crease in his eyes, lifted ever so slightly by the cheeks.

"I... would not mind it."

You hum, studying his face. Trying to distract the heat caressing your cheeks by thinking a million thoughts.

“But this puppy has so much to explore,” you say, taking the puppy into your lap. “Being stuck in one place for so long, the steps we take will always loop back.” You brush the gingko leaves off Blade's hair.

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

A beat in his chest. Savoured as it ripples through his body. Alive. Blade closes his eyes, feeling the breeze run its hand through his hair, the pulse in your fingers. You were alive too. Opens his eyes.

“... Ridiculous,” he simply replies.

Shuhu's flesh. It writhed, beating its last breath in Yingxing's hand. His other hand drew along a cold arm. One he has touched many times when it was warmer. A mortal separated from their immortal lover, a retelling of Hou Yi and Chang'e.³

A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again, he renewed that vow. A burst of pain, a golden disease invading. A bloodlust riveted.

I hope that in your next life, you will never wish for freedom again.

May fate bind us with its thread and suffocate us until we have to share our breaths through parted mouths, mistake whose hands are whose, and dig our fingers into each other's backs, melting into flesh, draw blood to malnourish the body of weight, just to fit into each other's arms. Because even if I torment your dreams, crush your future, or tangle your tongue until you can't speak, at least, that way, you always have to think of me. 

Hate eventually bleeds into obsession, and obsession will consume your every thought until you can't move. In that case, detest with all your heart, blacken me in your mind, and bite my hand when I try to feed; it will only make me love you more.

Stay where I can see you, or be chained to me forcefully... I will not lose you again.

...

...

...

When he awoke again, his body was pierced many times over.

"Remember the feeling of death," Her hair skimmed the moon's surface, an arc of the sword that glimmered silver, as if cycling through the lunar phases in a swift strike, and bloodred eyes. "And bring it to them."

Wounds mended and healed, tightened and closed. His new body is a seamster that weaves the fabric of his skin to fit his flesh again, a blacksmith that hammers out the steel and reforges it into a blade once more.

He does not come back to life—the joy of creation long forgotten in the face of death that has strangled everything else—a dead man walking. Laid his body on a bed of red spider lilies, the petals weeping on his clothes—or, was it a pool of blood? Doesn't matter.

The mara worked strangely on him—memories seldom passed by in his mind. Yet, this person crossed that boundary, weaved inside his head.

A face drifted along the tides of his mind, drowning and resurfacing every few seconds as he tried to fish the fragments. The scales shine, a bright smile, the tails flap, his hand weaved into another, the fins slither, laughter. Like carps, persevering past the strong waves of his mara.

He must've loved them so strongly to the point that it brewed hatred. A desire to blind them with his affection, and then mangle their limbs, so that the last thing they would ever feel was his selfish love.

Blade took you home as you sleeped in his carry, eyeing Skott intensely and scaring the man to make way. He draped you on your bed. It was too long since he's seen you so peaceful and... Blade stopped his fingers from feathering the rim of your lips.

Why couldn't he keep you here? Be chained to him, just stay here, you don't need anyone else. Crush you until you rely on him. This is where you're meant to be, right next to him.

His head lowered for a moment before he got up.

His words to Skott: "You're dead the moment you disturb them," Blade warned as he approached the cowering man. "Or, should I dispose of you here after what you put them through?"

Skott never returned home since, presumably ran away.

Blade went out and walked along Central Starskiff Haven. A simple thing caught his eye—a bobbin of blue string. And then—

"May I have a word with you?" Blade recognised that voice: Jing Yuan

...

...

...

“It was the same then, and the same now; you are fixated on the past.”

Blade studies Jing Yuan. Studies the carp swimming in the water, looking down. “Just skip to what you want to say.” Blade had little patience for the man who knew about the price of sin, yet said nothing.

Jing Yuan shakes his head, leaning on the railing of the bridge, looking up. He will savour every second of this meeting, one he had waited too long for. “Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile—for a reason—we are not meant to last forever. Even for us long–lived species, the mara is a cap screwed tightly to stop us, poised to spiral our memories into oblivion.”

Blade could almost laugh. This person before him, who used to reach only his shoulders, now was teaching him.

“Do you think it was only you who suffered all this time?” Jing Yuan frowns, frustrated. His shoulders shake. “We were separated. But the bonds we created last beyond a meeting. And I have have kept our companions in my heart. This way, they are always with me.”

“Fate may be predestined, but when the heart is moved, it becomes unforgettable.⁴”

Fate does not pity. Cruel yet kind at times, it does not know of its own recklessness, which must be why fate executes its job so easily. It feels no empathy.

But, it's exactly this reason why fate can never touch human connections. It does not understand the heart, therefore, what humans use it for are ultimately decisions that they make themselves. Fate is all-seeing, but not all-knowing.

“Hah…” Blade exhales. Words he didn't want from Jing Yuan, but needed to hear.

“And—” Jing Yuan winces, clutching his forehead. His eyes are watery, having recalled something yet lost it at the same time. A small silence. “Apologies, they say... that you are nearing the brink of death when memories start flashing at you, for the last time. Must be true... haha.”

Blade is wordless, fingers digging into palm. “Don't spout nonsense. Save your breath.”

Jing Yuan laughs, knowing that this is Blade's way of caring, the same as he used to, before saying, “I see all five of us. Underneath the gingko trees, where we met…”

Gingko trees... those words stood out. Jing Yuan would always... “Gingko trees... how many are there?” Blade asks, looking at Jing Yuan.

Jing Yuan's eyes are open in surprise, unexpecting the question. His mouth moves but does not mutter, on the edge of words, before saying with that lazy grin of his, “How would I know the answer to that?”

Blade walks along the rainy path to your home. Along the gingko trees, past the river flowing carps along, to a door that is open, ready to welcome. But before he could, he felt a presence. “Kafka.”

“Bladie, Elio's a tad bit disappointed,” Kafka steps out of the shadows, holding a black umbrella. “You were talking to General Jing Yuan. But what does he know?”

Blade lets the rain devour her voice. Kafka walks towards him, still wearing her smile. It is often that Blade cannot read her concealed expression. She fondles with something behind her back.

Blade's limbs are speared in place. Spirit Whisper. He steps back���

“Listen to me. I will say the words you truly want to hear.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from? They won't live long this time, so make the most of it. Take it all. This is your part of the script.”

Crush. Chain. Claim. The words inject its needle into Blade, piercing skin. Relieving. It feels like a cure, a medicine, his treatment. This is what he needs. The mara suddenly blooms its branches, ripping into his head, splintering it with an agonising pain. Clouds gather its dark feathers, pluming over Xianzhou with its wing-like embrace.

“Sorry, Bladie. I must do this. They were supposed to be dead long ago,” she says these final words, passing him with a smile, sad eyes, before turning into nothing more than another percussive instrument in the orchestra of rain.

...

...

...

Ping! ...

User 'Blade' is typing...

User 'Blade' is typing...

...

User 'Blade': You are mine.

You woke up to darkness placing its blindfold over you, sat on cold ground. Sweat trickles down your neck that bobs up and down, trying to breathe—to live. A musk repeating smoke and metal.

Taking another deep breath, you try to stand up but are immediately dissuaded by the nagging on your wrist, chained. The blindfold slips from the jolt.

“You're trying to escape me again.”

Suddenly, you are pulled into an embrace from behind, your back pressed on a chest. He is cold against your engulfed body—ice against fire. Designed by nature to sabotage one another, destined never to find each other. Caused by a sinner's karmic debt. “Blade, y-your arms...”

Small gingko branches perforate through his skin, the leaves thrumming to his slow breath. Red pearls roll down his arms, as if unhitched from a broken necklace. You notice the deep lacerations that dig past even further than where the branches grew from, as if someone has been trying to gouge them out.

Blade watches you, muttering as little words as possible to save breath, “It'll heal.”

You trace his arm with your finger. The wounds are caught in ebb and flow, between the stricken trauma and the regenerative tissues. Gradually, the bloody gap bridges his flesh together, an infrastructure built and painted over with his skin. “What...?” Your hand retracts but Blade catches it.

“Leaving me again?”

You search for his face, aching. Dark eye circles hung low, Blade is exhausted and just as afraid of what he's become. His hands glides along your arms, landing just above the back of your hands, before lacing his fingers into the crooks. He didn't want to hurt you, and you feel that fragility through the press of his lips on your neck.

“I won't,” you reassure, letting his weight stamp onto you.

His shoulders squeeze in, appearing smaller. As if trying to merge with you so that he may live inside. Know you inside out. Claim. His hand tighten around yours, subduing his desires.

Blade shakes his head, lips dragged down by the weight of the torrent he is trying to suppress inside him. He traces Kafka's words. “I abhor you…”

“You're lying... because eventually you will.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This is the price I pay,” he mutters, “I have willed life into an impossible existence, and I must witness how that very life ends.”

The law of equivalent exchange; to obtain what you so desire, an equal value must be given in return. And life and death always follow each other as equals.

Words disintegrate, melting on the tongue, as fragile as snow falling on skin. You replay the frown on Blade's face, his twitching eyebrows. An animation, flicking its pages in your mind, and your heart leaves it to loop over, and over. You lower your head, hesitant. You didn't understand what he was saying. But it feels like he's talking to you.

He is stood at the edge of the cliff, and you are the last push. But you didn't want him to let go yet.

“Then, it's our fault for choosing each other. Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart. And if we don't have much time, then let's use every second of it.”

Blade hears Jing Yuan's words in them. He also hears someone else's words. A final flash of another memory. And then, he repeats your voice that said the words. It comforts him, resting the pain to sleep. The gingko leaves fall, ripened. Maybe it were these words he was waiting for all along—to let him know that he can belong next to you after his sin.

There is no use dwelling on the past. He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey; he who blames himself is halfway there; he who blames no one has arrived.⁵ When moments can be spent with you now, the present becomes hopeful.

Kafka's shackles fade. Spring will come again.

Blade unchains the cuff on your wrist, soothing the red marks with his kisses. He fetches something from his pockets—a bobbin of blue string. Softly takes your pinky, intertwined with his, and he begins wrapping the thread around them. You watch him quietly, heart pounding. The knot is tied.

“Let me keep you for a little longer,” Blade whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I'll let you go after this, I promise.” To sever the string.

You mould into him, and the seamster sewed your stitch into the embroidery, the blacksmith modelled the sword in your shape.

Guest_User#1001: I am expecting good results.

Blade sighed, throwing his phone on the bed. That name they gave, it looked familiar. Nevertheless, he had a job to do.

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

... What a coincidence. Blade scoffed.

Tracing your location, he found your home. The first time he saw you, he recognised instantly, and memories began flashing.

“Why are you running from me?”

“Why do you have a sword?!”

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

“You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,”

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

“Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile - for a reason—we are not meant to last forever.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from?”

“I will lock you here for eternity. I will never let you go.”

No, these weren't memories. This was a slither of the future that Elio granted him. The original ending that was supposed to fit Blade.

But Blade had changed the end. He had changed fate with you, by his own choice.

...

Ping!

User 'Blade': In front of you.

You look up from your phone, grinning. Blade smiles at you, walking over. You trace the bandage around his arms, where the mara sprouted. "How is it?"

"I'm fine," he replies, "this will not dull my mastery with a sword. Come." He links his pinky with yours. There is no time to waste.

Aurum Alley blossoms with gingko leaves, vessels for auspicious happiness. Qingque waves at you, having reserved a large table by a restaurant. The signature aroma of Jiaoqiu's spices whet the appetite, Moze swiping the dishes away from Feixiao, Jing Yuan leaning his chin on his palm, dozing, and Yanqing and Yunli playing around Blade. Silverwolf and Firefly said their goodbyes.

“Good thing Master Fu Xuan is in a meeting,” Qingque fills your teacup. “And if she questions me, I can just use General Jing Yua–”

"Qingque," Anyone can recognise that voice. “Jing Yuan, you too... and,” She looks at you. You gulp. “You level one-hundred slacker-offs!”

“Lady Fu~ come join us.” Jing Yuan pats a seat.

However, Fu Xuan, with scrunched eyebrows, suddenly grabs your wrist, scruntinising the pinky. As if it's missing something. She looks at Blade, unsettled. “Your string... it's been…” Blade looks at her, quiet. Fu Xuan then shakes her head, giving a sad smile. “So that's your choice. I'm not a couple's therapist, but... I wish good luck to the both of you.”

You are left confused, but Fu Xuan would glare at you if you pushed it further. “He'll tell you one day,” she said.

After the chaotic meal, you all parted ways. A sea of stars reflect the fishes worming under the translucent skin of the river bank, a mirror. Thoughts race in your head, thinking of everything that happened. You rub your pinky.

The red string of fate, a myth that weaves couples together. But you never needed it anyways. Not a red one, at least.

“Blade,” you begin, turning around.

“You were protecting me all along, weren't you?”

Blade looks at you, lending his ears.

“That time when you dragged me away from the orange-haired lady who was about to collide into me, same with the girl with the fiery tail that could've killed me.

When we were climbing that hill with Yanqing, I swear you had your hand behind me. It was to catch my fall, wasn't it?

And that time where you were injured—the mara, it's called—it felt like you were holding yourself back.”

Blade smirks. “You've been watching me?”

You smile. “You're like my guardian angel.”

In those few words, Blade witnesses the last flash of memories.

He remembered. And Blade knew then, that Yingxing was trying to move on. Traces of him were left—Yingxing's intense desires—but ultimately, everything was Blade's choice.

The past would stop haunting him. He is Blade, just as you are you. Not photographed to a fleeting memory, but living in a present time. Left with a body to fill with new memories, he now looks to the future.

A dull ache tugs in his chest, a pain so suffocating. His arms wrap around you.

Watching you laugh, cry, be angry, to keep you safe so that you can grow old, and he will love every second of you. Until you draw that last breath, and then preserved in his mind, so you may live on forever this way—immortal in his memories, until the mara grants him finality.

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

This site is closed for an indefinite period. Go away.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Does anyone know where the person managing the website went? They haven't offered me a duel yet :( ↳ User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1' replied: Good riddance! ↳ User 'Spice-and-Rice-is-Life!xox' replied: Feixiao, if you don't stop adding coriander to my broth, you will end up in the next meal I cook!!! User 'v1ral_m4ster_of_lif3-stre@ms': Oooh, a haunted website!! Let's make a video about this at Fyxestroll Garden, stat! @UserHuohuo @UserSushang @UserHanya @UserXueyi @UserYukong @UserLingsha @UserFugue @UserSunday @GalacticBaseballer111 @UserDanHeng ↳ UserDanHeng#1003 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserLingsha#1004 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserYukong#1005 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserHanya#1007 replied: Why am I here...? (also asking on Xueyi's behalf) ↳ UserFugue#1008 replied: Haha, why not~ ↳ User 'GalacticBaseballer111' replied: Thanks for the invite! Still dead tho^^ ↳ UserSunday#1009 replied: ...? User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle Blaaade, let's plaaaay huhu (╯︵╰,) ↳ User 'My_life_is_for_wielding_swords' replied: General Jing Yuan invited you to play starchess with us, wanna join? Invite March 7th too, we need to keep up her training! Guest_User#1001 left a review: WORST HITMAN EVEEEEER!!! YOU THREATENED ME AND TOOK MY PARTNEEER!!! User 'celstialjademylove10': Wait, that guy really was an assassin??? [Deleted by commenter] ↳ UserFuXuan#1010 replied: Qingque, slacking off are we? ↳ User 'celstialjademylove10' replied: ohshizzles [Deleted by commenter] Mod 'Let'sSetOurHeartsAblaze!': Farewell Blade, until we meet again~ Kafka (and me- and SW here😎) gives you two her regards! Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme': welp the story ends here ig. gg guys lets meet in the next story🤫

“Yingxing, do you know the myth of Yue Lao?”

“An old man who sits under the moon, tying the red string of fate for couples who are meant to find each other,” A melodic laugh, intertwining their pinky with his, wrapped in string. “But... even if Yue Lao did not destine for us to be together, as different as we are... a mortal and... a long-lived.” The knot tightened. A sad but knowing look. They continue,

“I believe it is much more powerful that we have loved each other of our own will, without the gods, deities, or aeons. A freedom and choice, entirely derived from our hearts. We love each other for who we are, not because it was meant to be. A love as natural as the carps along the river flow.”

“And with all the autonomy we had, untouched by divine power, I am so happy that you came back to me every time. As if tied by our very own red string—or, perhaps, our blue string.”

“Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart.”

... ౨ৎ

footnotes

Yue Lao - god of marriage and love in Chinese mythology, who appears to people as a old man under the moon. Carries the "red string of fate" to tie the destinies of couples who are meant to be together.

“Dripping water can penetrate the stone.” - proverb about how perseverance can help overcome obstacles.

Chang'e and Huo Yi - in Chinese mythology, Chang'e drank the immortality elixir, taken from her husband, the legendary archer Hou Yi. As a result, Chang'e was separated from her mortal lover, residing on the moon for eternity with her Jade Rabbit.

“Fate is predestined, but when the heart is moved, it’s unforgettable.” - proverb about how true connections that last beyond a fated meeting are what make the encounter unforgettable.

“He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey. He who blames himself is halfway there. He who blames no one has arrived.” - proverb about accepting the situation and moving past.

a/n: what if i wrote a time-skip epilogue so everyone can cry. what then. since blade is an older character, he has a lot of development. i tried my best to incorporate most of his story ^^ i teared up thinking abt the high cloud quintet, they were such a cute family before tragedy striked :( they were raising jing yuan, but jing yuan being the only one to have made it out made me even sadder :(( ALSO i apologise to any skott fans huhu. husband!skott but you're having an affair w blade forbidden love WATCH ME IM IM IMGON DO ITT!!!!1! im out of words now. i will now attempt to type the alphabet with my eyes closed. abcdefhjidkl,mnpqweribcxyd (i suck) thanks for reading!!🎀

[juliettejwnewinesa]

hii can u pls do a baku version for this one ?? but i feel he'd be like a victorian man seeing one for the first time 😭 like he would be giggling fluffy and shit at first but then he turns very veryyy serious the moment he realizes that he can get that anytime he can😇😇😇

https://www.tumblr.com/juliettejwnewinesa/785730379440095232/can-u-please-do-a-fic-with-sieun-x-a-reader-who?source=share

Title: Enlightenment Humin x fem!reader | NSFW | ~3.6k | boob worship, obsession, possessive Humin, oral (f!receiving), soft to unhinged progression, fluff-turned-feral

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

Humin was… strange.

Not in a bad way. Not in the way most people assumed. He just felt everything a little too deeply — thought too long, stared too hard, got shy for reasons no one else seemed to understand.

Which is why it made perfect sense to you that the first time he saw your boobs — like, really saw them — he turned into some kind of Victorian gentleman getting flashbanged by a single tit.

“…Oh my god.”

You blinked. “What?”

His jaw dropped a little further. He was sitting upright at the edge of your bed, pupils blown wide, a visible blush spreading up his neck like a slow, creeping fever.

“You—" His voice cracked. "You have those??”

You stifled a laugh, sliding your bra off the rest of the way and tossing it aside. “Yeah, I have those.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Just… staring.

Then: “I think I’m gonna faint.”

You crawled over to him, bare and smug, and gently took his hand to place it over one breast. “Then faint on these, Humin. They’re yours.”

And it was like something snapped in him.

“…Mine?” he whispered, blinking at you like you’d just handed him a loaded weapon.

You nodded innocently. “All yours.”

That was all it took.

At first, it was kind of adorable.

He couldn’t stop touching them. Not in a gross or grabby way — in a reverent, curious, dazed way. Like he was a scientist discovering something sacred. He would cup them gently, thumb brushing soft circles over your nipples like he was learning a language no one had ever taught him.

He giggled the first time they bounced.

Like, full-on covered-his-mouth giggled.

Then blushed even harder when your nipple stiffened under his palm and you let out a soft noise.

“S-Sorry—did that—was that okay?” he stammered.

“More than okay,” you breathed, leaning into his touch.

And Humin, cheeks glowing and eyes wide, whispered:

“…I love them so much.”

The worship only got worse from there.

He couldn’t not look. If you wore a tank top, his eyes would drift. If you changed in front of him, he’d pretend not to notice but go quiet for ten minutes after. He became obsessed.

And when you finally pulled him into bed for something more serious — something filthy — you realized just how far gone he really was.

You were lying back, completely bare, Humin kneeling over you with shaky hands, looking like he was about to commit a crime and get away with it.

“Can I…” he murmured, fingers hovering over your chest. “Can I taste?”

Your stomach flipped. “Please.”

He groaned.

Then leaned down, and kissed the swell of your breast like he was kissing a religious relic.

You expected him to get shy again — maybe even giggle. But the moment his lips closed around your nipple, something changed.

He moaned.

Loud.

Like the realization hit — that he could do this, anytime, whenever he wanted. That he didn’t just get to look at you like this — he could touch, taste, devour.

His hand slid under your back to pull you closer, mouth latching tighter as he sucked, tongue flicking desperately over your nipple like he was trying to imprint the shape on his memory.

You gasped, hips shifting, and he groaned into your skin, switching to the other side with a ravenous kind of hunger.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbled between kisses. “So fucking soft—God, I can’t—”

He squeezed them together with both hands, face buried between them, nose brushing your sternum, moaning like he was drunk off the feel of you.

“You don’t get it,” he said, breathless. “You don’t get it. You’re perfect. You’re insane. I think I’m losing my mind.”

You whimpered, thighs squeezing together.

“Humin—”

“I could live here,” he whispered. “Right here, forever. In your arms. On your chest. I’d never need anything else.”

And then his hand slid down, finally, between your legs, and you gasped at the sudden heat of his palm.

“All this for me?” he murmured, mouth still on your nipple. “I make you this wet?”

You nodded, shaking.

He moaned again — high and unfiltered.

“I want to eat you out while I hold them. Is that—can I do that?”

You barely choked out a yes before he moved, spreading your legs open, dragging you to the edge of the bed.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He laid flat, face buried between your thighs, arms up so his hands could still grope your chest as he devoured you — slow, then fast, then slow again, tongue curling and dragging, nose bumping your clit just enough to make you cry out.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured, muffled. “I’m obsessed with you. I’m so obsessed with you.”

And when you came, gasping, legs trembling around his head, he just moaned like you were feeding him something divine — licking and kissing and whimpering against your skin.

After, when he crawled back up and laid over you, still breathless and flushed, he buried his face in your chest again and sighed like he’d just come home.

“You’re mine,” he said, quiet but possessive. “Right?”

You smiled, fingers carding through his messy hair. “Always.”

He exhaled like you’d just saved his life. Again.

And just like that — he was calm again.

Until the next time he got a glimpse of cleavage.

Then it was Victorian Man all over again. (or a hongdae guy)

[digitalsymbiote]

Cockpit Exposure

There’s a terrible screeching of metal as your cockpit is rent open, exposed by a glancing blow from your opponents weapon. Suddenly your senses are muddled, two sources of data now vying for the attention of your shared mind. Your external cameras shift and refocus, as light streams in through the semi-transparent visor of your flight helmet.

Your partner is screaming in the back of your mind, and the terrible phantom pain in your chest tells you exactly why. It’s a huge strain on your mind to try and decipher between the information coming from your metal body, and the information coming from your flesh one. Your cockpit was designed to mimic a sensory deprivation chamber for this exact reason, most full-immersion frames are. The sensory deprivation of the pilot makes it easier to settle into the skin of the mech, fewer external distractions to remind you of your flesh body nestled under all that metal.

All of that is gone out the window now though, as the sounds and sights of combat assault your organic form through your breached cockpit. Distantly you recognize that you’re hyperventilating, and the safety systems are struggling to compensate. You guess this is because your partner’s panic is bleeding through the neural bridge. She did just get a huge chunk torn out of her front, after all.

With a monumental effort, you wrench control back from your panicking IMP, and you feel her systems settle down a bit as you enforce some order on things. The cold air and biting wind howling in your cockpit are doing all they can to distract you, but you’ve got a fight to finish and you’ll be damned if you end up gutted in your own cockpit.

Metal strains as your synthetic body stands and pulls the giant sword from the sheath on its back. You fire the boosters in your legs, feeling the g-forces slam your body back into the pilot’s seat as you charge your opponent. Blade strikes blade, and your damaged servos strain against theirs. A shot of fuel into your boosters breaks the stalemate and you pull back, circling around the opposing mech. You have to be extra careful to protect your cockpit now, one more hit to your chest and you’ll be pulp on your enemy’s blade.

Something shifts inside you, and you feel your IMP having off-loaded some of its processing into your wetware. She’s moving the limbs on your flesh body inside the cockpit, rooting around for something, piloting you the way you’re piloting her.

The lights on the front of your chassis flicker red in glee as you realize what she’s searching for. You send a mental acknowledgment over your shared link and hunch over, preparing for another bout. You’ll get your partner her opening.

According to regulation, mechs are required to have certain items stocked in their cockpits in case of emergency. Rations, a medical kit, an emergency radio, and most importantly: A flare gun. The standard flare gun had always seemed a bit superfluous to you, what difference is a meager flare going to make in spotting a 10-story tall Mech? But you’d convinced both your CO and your IMP to let you keep a few High-Explosive rounds for the thing stored alongside it, for a rainy day like today.

So the next time you clash with your opponent, blade grinding against blade, you feel your organic body move again. Your IMP makes use of the gaping hole in your chest, and manages to plant a high explosive round directly into the emergency hatch on your enemy’s chest, blowing it clean off, and disorienting their pilot in much the same way they had done to you only moments ago. You, however, will not squander this opportunity.

You drop your weapon, slam a hand through the breached hole in your opponents chest, and pulp the bleeding heart within it. The massive weapon of war you’ve been fighting slumps to the ground, the trauma of losing it’s organic half rippling through its systems. You grab the mech’s head and pull, metal screeching and cables snapping as you tear it free from the rest of the metal corpse. You find the glint of the enemy data core and crush it between two of your massive fingers, putting the enemy IMP out of its misery.

And suddenly it’s quiet again.

The faint sensation of wind upon skin echoes over the link, and you realize your IMP has removed your flight helmet. She’s half out of the pilot’s seat, and you can sense wonder radiating through the link as she looks out at the carnage through organic eyes. You decide to let her, regulation be damned.

You’re looking out at it through her eyes often enough, it’s only fair to return the favor.

[rassicas]

Weapon info from the Art of Splatoon 3, pages 97-109

There's more concept art for weapons in the book not shown in this post, but these are all the weapons that included descriptions. Translations under the cut:

Page 97 Splattershot Nova With long range, rapid-fire capabilities A new weapon by the manufacturer that developed the Splattershot and Splattershot Pro. This manufacturer is well known for its intense internal rivalry and competition, as multiple development projects are underway at the same time. This is also the source of the many weapon variants produced by this manufacturer. Page 100 Big Swig Roller Lightweight, mobile, and easy to handle Development was underway for a roller that could spread ink over a wide area, but it was difficult to strike a balance between weight and maneuverability. One day, the head developer's child was seen playing enthusiastically with straws and toys from a fast food restaurant, and the design was drastically changed. Lightweight materials and elastic straws were used to achieve both the desired weight and the wide spread. Page 101 Snipewriter 5H Capable of firing up to five times in rapid succession

This weapon gets loaded with hardened ink lead that can be fired off in rapid succession. In the construction of other pen-shaped weapons, the mechanisms for ink compression and firing take up much of the space, but this weapon lacks an ink compressor, allowing it to be equipped with a mechanism for rapid fire.

Page 104 Tri-Stringer Frozen ink that explodes at the point of impact This new kind of weapon was developed by a manufacturer that specializes in fishing equipment. The weapon is packed with unique tech, including strings with the strength and pliability of fishing line, and an ink freezing mechanism that's the same as what's used to rapidly freeze fish. Despite this weapon being full of intricate mechanisms, it's built to withstand the harsh environment of the Splatlands. Splatana Wiper A katana-inspired weapon

The speed of this Splatana's slashes is thanks to its lightweight frame and a durable, flexible shaft. It's popular among the youth who want to look stylish in both battle and fashion with a dashing slash. By swapping out the sponge, it can also be used as a cleaning tool.

Page 105 Angle Shooter Touching the line of ink is dangerous

A new Angle Shooter needs to be shaken several times before use, as the ink needs to get properly soaked into the marker's core. Accidents occasionally happen when it's shaken up too much, the ink splashes out and causes the marker to go everywhere. Many don't like the sound of the line being drawn. Page 106 Tacticooler Take a sip and feel refreshed and powered up

This special weapon was developed by a drink manufacturer that is also an official Turf War sponsor. The drinks that are deployed logo-side outward. This energy-giving drink is available all over the world, but the ones sold in the Splatlands are said to use different ingredients.

Page 109 Wave Breaker Damages opponents and tracks their location

A high-tech device that sends and receives active sonar, and shares that information to all players at once. It was developed by repurposing technology used to locate buried treasure in the Splatlands. The sphere contains a cooling mechanism to ensure the stability of the precision instruments, and is cool to the touch. Getting caught by the sonar will make one's head ring.

[justyn1]

The Spycrab. Why does it exist?

What is a Spycrab?

A Spycrab is an iconic animation bug for the Spy from Team Fortress 2. This bug was introduced since the game’s launch in 2007 and still exists today!

This post will cover on what causes this bug happen, how to fix it, and why it SHOULDN’T be fixed.

Debugging the Spycrab

First we need to know how do you become a Spycrab in TF2. To become a Spycrab the player have to pull out the disguise kit, crouch, look up, then start moving in any direction.

This give us a clue on what’s going on. The issue is related to looking around while crouching with the Spy’s disguise kit. We can take a look at how Valve setup the Spy’s animations since they provided the model sources in the Source SDK. Let’s take a look at spy_movement.qci since that’s where they handle all of the animations related to moving around. From this point I will refer the disguise kit as PDA since that’s what it called in the sources. Looking at the entry for Crouch_PDA and Crouch_Walk_PDA everything seems to be written correctly. Theres nothing wrong with the code itself

Line 15: $sequence Crouch_PDA PDA_crouch_idle loop alignto a_reference addlayer PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle activity ACT_MP_CROUCH_PDA 1

Line 424: $MPCrouchWalkWithWeapon Crouch_Walk_PDA 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 PDA_crouch_walkN PDA_crouch_walkCenter PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle ACT_MP_CROUCHWALK_PDA $infoNode$  

This means that the issue is coming from one of the animations itself. Lets load up the PDA crouch animations in SFM and compare with the normal stand up animations.

Everything looks fine however there’s something odd with the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation. It’s in a different pose entirely! To summarize what a aim matrix do, the animator put the character in various poses mimicking that the character is looking around. The game will take those poses and blend between them depending on what direction the player is looking. Generally you don’t want to stray way from the idle pose too much since it can cause potential problems when blending between various poses at once.

With closer inspection, it seems the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation is actually an early version of the spy’s knife aim matrix animation. Here’s both aim matrices side by side.

The Fix

Now knowing that the bug is created by accidentally exporting another aim matrix animation for the wrong weapon. The fix is actually very simple! Without touching the animation files itself. We can go into the spy_movement.qci and replace any mention of pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle with pda_aimmatrix_idle and that’s it! Compiling spy_animations.qc and loading up TF2 we will see the Spycrab no longer works.

But should this bug really be fixed?

This is the part where I tell you that the Spycrab bug should never be fixed in TF2. Even though this bug was stemmed from a mistake and it’s pretty simple to fix. This bug should never be fixed purely because it’s very important for the game’s history and community. After this bug was discovered and popularized back in 2008. It spawns plenty of memes within the community and in-game references from community cosmetics and unusuals, an official rare taunt for the disguise kit, warpaints, and a poster from the map Carnival of Carnage a Halloween reskin of Doomsday.

Hopefully this post provide some interesting insight on how this iconic bug was created and the process of debugging animations in Source Engine!

[spirkme915]

i know we talk a lot about that scene in patterns of force, but can we please talk about spock's sweater for a minute here? i mean, look...

it looks so soft and comfy! it's fit meant for a brisk morning stroll, picking up a cup of responsibly sourced tea at the local lesbian coffee shop, then perusing the racks of the new arrivals at the corner thrift store.

and speaking of thrifting...

it has holes 😭 did they replicate the holes? is it a cast off from the enterprise lost & found? is it actually spock's? and he wears it so often that it's worn down? and did he pick the shirt underneath to match jim's?

jim, honey. you probably shouldn't be pointing a loaded weapon directly at spock. that sweater doesn't need any more holes.

just look at him. look. giving baby giraffe energy.

he looks so frumpy and warm.

criminally precious.

[sunrisecaminus]

can I ask for sweet aftercare from Megatron to his femme conjux? Maybe like cuddles and praises from him plsss

Message - This is adorable! Of course you can ask for such a beautiful thing!

Megatron x Conjunx Reader NSFW

Summary - Cybertronian Reader comes back from a mission and Megatron takes care of you after everything you went through~

Warning - NSFW

Everything was so, hot. Your servos clenching the birth. You couldn't see anymore, as you were blinded by pleasure. Everything around you was nothing, do you even remember where you were? The feeling of being slammed inside your valve, over and over again, has to be the best thing you have felt in a long time. The friction of the spike going in and out of you was making your frame weaker by the minute, the rough servos grabbing at your hips pull you closure to your conjunx.

This all started from Megatron feeling nothing but rage. Desks were being throne, soldiers were running like cowards, Starscream betraying the crew and leaving the ship before he gets beaten again. The only person that could really save the Decepticon ship, was you. His conjunx has been gone for three days. You had a really hard yet important mission and it could save everyone from energon losses, but Megatron gets in mood swings when you leave. He has nobody to talk to on an equal level and doesn't trust anyone else with his emotions except for you, so when you leave, he goes in crying fits of anger when something small happens. Everything was over in his mind, the last energon mine was finally harvested down to the last food sources. Starscream was trying to calm him down by stating that they could go the next mine like they planned, but Megatron knew it was a smaller mine and it could decrease their soldier counts by the week.

Throwing everything around him, Megatron could sense someone behind him and he points his canon at the person. Seeing your face the second he aimed the weapon, his eyes grew in shock from seeing you here and lowered his arm down. "Y/n…" He sees the soft smile growing on you as your servos gently slide up on his chassis, feeling all his dents and cuts that Knockout hasn't got to yet. "I'm back, you alright dear?" The feeling of your gentle love was all he wanted, his own servo grabbing yours and pressing his other servo behind your back. Everything stopped for him; Time, blood, and atoms at that moment froze. You were here earlier than he anticipated and it gave him nothing but pure joy that no one else could give. "…Yes of course, now that your here." You giggle from his romantic tone, leaning your helm on him.

Soldiers slowly came in to see you too leaning on each other, so they get back to work. Cleaning out the ship, they were able to finally get back to their screens to do their duties and not have to fear about their liege killing them for no reason. Megatron hates that his affection is being seen, so he takes you over to one of the ships balconies. He doesn't want to show how much of a romantic nerd he is, but what he will never tell you was the balcony was specifically positioned on this side of the ship to always be pointing to where Cybertron lies. It was one of the most geeky things he could ever do and if anyone found this out, he would murder them on the spot. "Y'know, it was pretty rough out there. It can be a thrill to go back in action, but…sometimes I miss being held by you when I go back to stasis." Megatron looks back at you with his colorful optics, loading in the information he just heard from you. No one has ever really "missed" him. After the relationship was created, Megs has had to learn a lot from you and Soundwave. It has been millions of years since he ever got into a relationship with someone and has forgotten about the good things that can come with it. He leans against the railing and lets his servo being supported up onto your hip. "Well, you can come back early no matter if you get something or not. You always can see me no matter where I am. No one usually gets the privilege to even be in my quarters." You knew he was always a cocky one, his ego was massive; Becoming his conjunx made you be able to share some of that ego with him. "Awe, you are too sweet." Staying still with him in the peace and quiet, you try to let go of the stress that has been leaning on your soldiers from the mission you went on. You don't want to tell him how the Autobots found you.

It was a horrible mission. You did find a massive energon mine, but the Autobots got to you a few minutes later after you reported it to Soundwave. Optimus and Ratchet was a scary duo to mess with, and fighting even one was hard enough. They only thought of you as an elite soldier, never even thinking you were Megatron's Conjunx. If they knew, they probably would've tried to capture you. Being able to fend off for a while, they retreated to go get more of their allies later. You don't know when they would attack again, but you had to go back in two days to defend the mine once more. You didn't want to fight them again alone, the stress has been building the closure you got to the Decepticon ship. You didn't want to stress your Conjunx out more than he already was, so you didn't tell him. Speaking of which, as you were looking at the stars, you feel his hand sliding down to your aft and staying there. Blush started to grow onto your face plate and looked over at him. He had the most…evil smirk you had ever seen.

Aaaaaaand that it how you got to this point, in Megatron's room, being rammed like no one could hear you. It was like you were dreaming, but this was real. You were chosen by the lord himself, and you must respect his wishes for him to treat you like a queen. You never had an argument before and it should stay that way in your mind. His servo grabs one of your servos, motioning to you that he was ready to release. Closing your eyes, you lean into his spike and let his full shaft inside you. Feeling him fill you was something no one else in the universe could feel. You were his, and no one else's. After laying there limp for a few minutes to catch your breath, you feel yourself being carried off somewhere. You were still blinded by pleasure and couldn't see that well. All you could feel was your body being picked up bridal style and the lighting changing to a dim light, showing that you were being put in a different room. Megatron gently put your body down on some nice towels on the floor, and turning on the hot water in the bath. The water noises were nice to hear, as your body is picked up again and slowly put inside the tub. This was when Megatron could see your battle marks clearly. He knew something was wrong ever since he saw you come back…but he knew you weren't wanting to make him even more mad at the time. He isn't an idiot, something happened to you on that mission and he wanted you to understand that you are now home. Megs wanted you to stop worrying about everything, washing your body off from not only his juices, but the dirt wedged in your plating you couldn't get.

After he massaged your body with a towel, he takes your clean frame back in the birth and laid you down on the bed. You whine from not feeling his presence and tried to see with your hands where he was. A few seconds went by and you feel his weight being pressed against the bed as his body lays behind yours, spooning your frame and putting his arms around you. "I ordered Soundwave to replace you for the mines. You are stuck with me for two weeks." Your eyes widened, did Soundwave tell him? Of course he did, everything he knows that should not be a secret he tells his liege. If it had to do with you in great risk of being beaten, no shit was he going to go to Megatron to see if they could do something about it. The feeling of the work being lifted from you was amazing, peaceful, and even scary. Tears formed from your optics as you clench on his arms a bit. "…I'm sorry. I wish I was stronger."

You hear nothing for a while until his servos slid to your face, wiping your tears the best he could from behind you. "You are able to do things 95% of my Soldiers can't do. You are one of the only soldiers that seemed to give me bad news without cowering in the shadows or on the intercoms. You fought off a Leader and his little pet Medic by yourself. Being damaged is part of the job, nothing you could have done to look perfect and clean afterwards." He massages your stomach plating and puts a bit of pressure on it. You feel him smiling a bit behind you as he leans into your helm. "I am very proud of you~" You didn't know what to say, such lovely things being told to you by the Leader of the Decepticons, no, lovely things being told to you by your own conjunx. It was something that really wasn't uttered to you before, but you will never forget this night if it was going to be the last. You smile with nothing but love, closing your optics and slowly you were going into stasis mode. "…I love you, Megs."

[decadentbearmusic]

My last patrol was 14 months ago. The last time I held a rifle was 6 months ago. I don't know if I'm MIA, KIA, or still on active duty in my old unit. I guess it doesn't really matter either way; the postal censors don't even check the status of draftees before they write the letters home.

"Miss you Ma, sure is cold, keep fighting the good fight." Yeah fucking right.

I got out before the big offensive to take Linea Kennet. They had to triple the number of MPs just to get enough bodies to the front. My whole unit got lost in the mix, stationed at some staging area for a week while command tried to get everyone in position for the push. With so many suits going through, it was easy to slip away from the barracks and bullshit my way past the MPs. They were mostly going after the scared ones, soldiers trying to sneak around and lost warmies.

"Orders from SGT. whoever, reporting to Station wherever," was enough to make them look past me to the next poor fuck.

It didn't take me more than a day to find a ghost unit. They were "stationed" at a tunnel junction, guarding nothing, just like every other unit. Had a mess hall, barracks, loading dock, even a command tent with a captain. No idea if the guy was really a captain or not, but he had the uniform and a clipboard. I think they might have even been doing real work, routing supplies through the tunnels. But not a single guy there had any orders. Half the unit were fixers, and the faces changed every day.

I spent a week there learning the game, figuring out how to move around the backline without getting stopped by MPs. A lot of the guys there would give you rations or stims for nothing, they had sources that could get as much as they wanted. Some of the vets had been there for years, but I wasn't going to stick around that close to the surface.

Packed some gear and headed deeper, following the freshest route I could get. The cracks in the transport routes and the unauthorized mole tunnels get patched constantly by the maintenance crews. Moles dig new ones as soon as the old ones freeze. Let me tell you, you don't want to be in one when it gets flooded. You could be frozen in there for weeks before your suit gives out. Turns out my route wasn't really good for shit, and I ended up hiking down there for two weeks, looking for passages behind loose panels and tunnels where the signs didn't match up with the official maps. I had been out of rations for two days when I stumbled into the enclave.

I held onto the rifle for a while. Didn't feel whole without it. But there's no one to shoot down here, and if some CO or MP comes down here, not having my service weapon isn't going to stop a court martial. Not that they'd get this far before a rebel guard took them out. I traded the rifle for some tools and a better bunk.

I haven't seen Jove since I skipped my unit. It's kind of fucked up, but I miss the Eye, even though all it ever did was watch us get torn to shreds on the ice.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Pressure reader finding a gun and now can and will defend themself from monster or execute other people for doing something dumb

I'm sorry but I saw this and decided to run with how finding a gun might actually go for a Prisoner!Reader /lh

..................

"Wow...guess somebody forgot to pick this up. Or maybe Sebastian got tired of me dying to those monsters all the time.."

Staring down at the weapon that was just laying on the floor, you looked around to see if any cameras were currently watching you. Of course, there was a singular one with a red light in the corner above the next door, aimed directly at your position.

They were always watching.

From the comfort and safety of their headquarters, they watched you get maimed by the creatures here over and over again. Whether it's a Wall Dweller sneaking up on you or Pandemonium ramming into the locker you're hiding in nonstop....they've seen it all.

So at this point, you didn't care that they could see your clear interest in the object on the ground.

One you were forbidden to take.

But to hell with them and their rules.

After all you've suffered through down here, you deserved to have some kind of self-defense tool that wasn't just a light source you had to conserve.

Why shouldn't you be allowed to protect yourself? They were going to kill all the creatures who escaped containment, anyways, so if you could kill them now, why not?

Unfortunately, HQ begged to differ, as the moment you crouched down to pick up the pistol, a familiar voice came onto the intercom:

"Do not touch the weapon. Leave it alone and it will be collected by authorized personnel later."

"...figures." You glared at the camera, standing up. "Why don't you tell your "authorized personnel" to put down those sea monsters instead?! I think I'm allowed to defend myself if-"

*pop*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Back here again, are we?"

"Yeah..I guess.." Grumbling, you rubbed your neck as you looked up at the familiar trio of glowing blue eyes and angler lure. Even now, you still had a killer headache from the PDG detonation.

Then again, that was your own fault.

You didn't need to read the same document twice.

"I don't recommend defying them again. At least..not until you find a way to scramble their connection." Sebastian advised, sighing as he shook his head. "You gotta remember you have no rights down here. Neither of us do. It sucks but, we gotta deal with it."

"The IDS has gone haywire..but they're worried about me shooting through a glass window.." You huffed. "What if it wasn't even loaded?"

"Well I'm not sure if you know this, but prisoners and guns don't exactly go together. Just use what you've learned in the past to avoid the threats. It doesn't matter to them how "badly" you think you needed a firearm. You'll never get your hands on one, and I'm certainly not gonna sell any to you. Period."

"....I guess that pistol would've been useless if it didn't any rounds..."

"Anyway, here's what your overseer had to say on the matter. It's..kinda funny." Sebastian showed you another file, documenting your time and cause of death, along with a comment.

"The EXR-P stumbled across a small firearm that was left behind during the lockdown and defied direct orders to drop it, thinking they were an exception to the rule. This cannot happen again."

"Okay, that's bullshit. They're making it sound like I was an entitled asshole." You pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I can see why. Backtalking them is funny and all until your head pops. If you want them to take you seriously, you'll have to reach that crystal."

"Fine. I'll be a good little expendable and just focus on that." Putting a ferryman token on the table, you looked up at Sebastian. "Tell the guy downstairs I wanna continue where I was."

"Alright. Better not waste it." He swiped the coin, fading back into the darkness.

In the blink of an eye, you returned to the Blacksite, in the same room that you died in. It was clear of any blood that was left behind after your PDG went off, and of course..the pistol wasn't anywhere to be found.

It would have been useless anyways.

On the bright side, you did find a blacklight and some batteries in the drawers that you didn't check before, and you realized it's wiser to just use them to protect yourself.

'Okay. Let's just play it safe and keep going.'

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Whole World Waited

Batsis! reader

Part 1

An eerie silence filled the bar as everyone watched the TV. Everyone in the bar (in the world) had just watched (Y/n) Wayne kill the Joker... then his goon.

Now, the room was filled with her soft weeping. She collapsed before her younger brother, her words illegible. It was clear that fear was still running through her veins, the way she clung to his legs.

Her younger Brother, Damian, was still bound to his chair. He was very brave, trying to coax his older sister with gentle words to untie him. But it wasn't working; she was too busy crying and clinging to him.

Suddenly, there was commotion off screen. " Oh no," someone whispered. The girl stood up, her stance of eerie calmness returning. They watched as she grabbed her brother's chair, dragging him into a closet off to the side while he begged her. She took the other chair and wedged it close.

The commotion becomes louder. They're approaching.

Everyone in that bar was praying for her. Even those who had long since stopped believing.

Picking her axe again, she pulled it out the goon's head before thinking better. Dropping it, she picks up his shotgun instead.

At that moment, no one would question how tactically she checked and loaded the weapon. Nor would they later.

The door swings open.

She fires.

The screen went black.

-

Damian would later be found in that closet unharmed, aside from a few minor rope burns.

(Y/n) Wayne would be found unconscious on the bottom floor with several gunshot wounds.

Between the path from (y/n) and Damian, there were 12 dead bodies.

-

"Breaking News on the kidnapping of (Y/n) and Damian Wayne." A female anchor said. The Gotham News logo flashed across the screen before revealing her.

"Hello, I am Summer Glesson, and tonight I bring major news. Earlier today, the Joker kidnapped (Y/n) and Damian Wayne and broadcasted their torture for the entire world to see. Though, it took a turn when the crime Prince of Gotham injected young (Y/n) Wayne with a new strain of the fear toxin. However, SHE. WAS. NOT. CRIPPLED. BY. FEAR.

"Live on air, we watch as (Y/n) Wayne killed the Joker to protect her brother." A photo of (Y/n) and Damian appeared on the screen." After killing the Joker, she proceeded to get into a shoot-out with his goons. Not including the Joker, a total of 13 dead bodies were found."

She turned to face another camera. "Both Waynes' children were rescued by Nightwing and Redhood and taken to Gotham General Hospital to treat their injuries. Damian Wayne was found with minor rope burns, while (Y/n) Wayne was found with 21 gunshot wounds she is currently in surgery. And our sources say it's touch and go. "

The final image was a still of Damian screaming in the back of an ambulance.

_

Someone asked for part 2, and more of this idea came to me.

Part 3

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

The agent and the witch

Summary: All Marcus did was touch a bronze cat figurine after a new shipment of stolen art came in. He never thought a simple touch would make him travel back in time to meet his witchy soulmate.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. witch reader

Wordcount: 5.9k

Rating: M

Warnings: timetravel-magic-soulmate AU, confusion, fluff, a masquerade ball, my take on how magic works, some.... kissing, falling in love, more time travel

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus had the headache of headaches. His eyes were still closed and he groaned, loudly, before he slowly blinked his eyes open. The room he was in was dark and he turned his head, finding a single candle burning on the bedside table. 

Frowning, he tried to remember where he was and what happened. 

He went to work this morning.

They got a new shipment of artefacts from the middle of the 19th century that the lab was checking for their realness. 

Marcus remembered flirting with the cute new lab techie Kristin who was way too young for him, but hey he was just a man and some flirting should be allowed. 

He remembered her showing him a bronze figurine of a cat that she thought was adorable. Marcus remembered picking the figurine up and then. 

Nothing. 

“You’re awake. Good,” he jumped, his hands flying to where his weapon should be normally, sitting himself up to find a woman sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. 

He didn’t have his weapon on him. He remembered leaving it in his office. Shit. 

He blinked his eyes, not used to the darkness as the woman got up from the chair and walked towards him. She was wearing a long dark purple gown that reminded him of those princess movies his little sister had watched back when they were little. There was a small smile on her lips and she had beautiful green eyes. 

“Now you can tell me, where you stole my figurine?” she flicked her fingers towards him and held up the bronze cat with the other while Marcus headache seemed to work on making his head explode. He closed his eyes, only now noticing that he could not move anymore. Slightly panicking he tried to will his arms to move but it was like his body did not respond. 

“Fear not, I put your body on a sleeping spell, but your mind is still awake. Clearly. I might take the spell back once you start explaining,” the woman said and Marcus looked at her. 

“Spell?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

“Yes.”

He wanted to ask more questions but, the woman only raised her eyebrow as she waited for him to talk. 

“I… haven’t stolen anything. A whole load of stolen artefacts have been shipped to HQ this morning and the lab had been checking them to validate if they were real or not.”

The woman tilted her head. 

“Listen, I have no idea what happened after I touched the figurine but if you let me call my boss I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Your… boss?” the woman asked.

“Yes… I’m an FBI Agent and I work in art thefts.”

“FBI?” she asked, looking at him like he grew a second head, and Markus sighed. Nothing made sense. Not him waking up with this strange lady, not her telling him he was under a spell, nothing. 

“Federal bureau Intelligence?” he helped. The woman still looked at him as if he had grown a second head. 

He sighed. 

„My badge is in my suit jacket,“ he said, the woman still not reacting. It gave him some time to really look at her and at the room he was in. 

There was no real light source. No lamp on the ceiling, not even a lamp on the bedside table. There was a what looked like a Gaslamp next to the door the woman was standing. It was dark outside, which made the whole set up felt like straight out of a horror movie. The furniture was made out of what looked like heavy wood. 

But it was the woman that fascinated him most. 

Her hair was styled back in a sleep bun but some curls had fallen out of her hairdo. The dress she was wearing looked expensive. He was no expert in fabrics but it looked like it was silk.

And definitely not out of this century. 

Which left him to ask his next question:

„What…. What year is it?“ He asked and finally the woman took a step closer, the bronze cat still in her hands as she looked down at him with eyes full of interest. 

„It’s 1824,“ she said and Marcus lips parted in surprise. 

„Why?“ She asked.

Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle. A chuckle that turned into a full laugh the woman was less than appreciate of. 

„I’m so sorry. This must have been the best prank ever. Is my sister behind this?“ He asked.

„I have no clue what you are saying. Why did you want to know which year it was?“ She asked him, now standing right next to the bed, the heavy fabric of her dress swishing against the bed he was still lying on, unable to move. 

„Because it’s 2024,“ he said, still laughing. But the longer he laughed the more her face changed into one of concern, his laughter slowly dying.

He gulped. 

„This isn’t a prank, isn't it?“ He finally asked. 

The woman sighed. 

„I’m afraid not, Mr….“

„Pike. My name is Marcus Pike,“ he said and for the first time the hint of a smile came to the woman’s lips.

„Mr. Pike. I think you being here is a spell gone massively wrong. This never happened before. I used the same spell for everything, how could it have gone so wrong?“ She asked herself and Marcus cleared his throat, her eyes snapping back to look at him. 

„Spell? Like… magic?“ He asked, still more than confused. 

„Yes,“ she nodded.

„So you’re a….“

„I’m a witch. Yes.“

When Marcus woke up the next morning, reaching for his phone and not finding it, for a small moment, he forgot that he… time traveled?

But once consciousness took over he sat himself up with a start looking around. 

He seemed to be in the same room he was in yesterday, but now the sun shone through the big windows. The walls were painted in a deep rich red, the furniture equally held in dark colours like he remembered from the night before. 

He took a deep breath, sighing when he exhaled. Rubbing his hand over his eyes he swung his legs out of the bed, noticing he was still wearing his suit from the day before. Well… The day before 200 years in the future.

He still could not wrap his mind around having time traveled. And there still was a part of him that thought this was all just a big joke. 

Stretching his muscles he slowly walked towards the window, lips parting in awe when he took in the busy street in front of the house. 

People were dressed similar to the woman he met yesterday. The women wearing long gowns, the men dressed in posh suits and each one wearing a hat. There were carriages pulled by horses driving on the street.

When he further looked around there was a lack of all things that were normal to him. 

No cars, no street vendors, no street lamps, no skyscrapers.

He startles when there was a knock on the door behind him, the door opening shortly after and in walked the woman, the… witch he met yesterday. 

„Good Morning Mr. Pike,“ she said with a small smile, carrying various items in her arms she set down on his bed. 

„Good Morning Mrs…“ he said and she huffed a laugh.

„I am not married,“ she said as she turned back towards him with a small smile. She told him her name.

„But I am only called Peach around here. There’s a big peach tree garden behind this house that I open for the city free of charge,“ she explained and Marcus found himself smiling at her. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Peach seemed to blink herself out of her trance.

„I unfortunately have not figured out yet, what went wrong with my spell. So I am afraid you will be stuck here until I can figure out a way to send you back, Mr. Pike,“ she said, walking over to his bed. 

„Please call me Marcus,“ he said and she hummed.

„Well, Marcus. You might be a man from the future, but we can’t let people know that. So I grabbed some old clothing from my brother who is currently out of state,“ she explained. 

Marcus stepped next to her, looking over the clothing she had spread over the bed. 

„I think you and him have the same stature, so the clothes should fit,“ she said and Marcus nodded. 

„I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, some of which I will not be able to answer, but I’ll try. If you like you can join me for breakfast on the patio once you dressed?“ Peach asked and he agreed.

„I am a little overwhelmed if I am honest. I hope a cup of coffee can fix that,“ he hummed.

„Oh you’re in luck. We received a bag of coffee beans just last week. I will ask the cook to prepare some. Personally I am not too keen on it. It’s too bitter for me,“ she smiled and Marcus could not look away from her captivating smile. 

„Anyway. I will leave you be. Once you dressed just come down the stairs and go to your right. You should see the sitting room with the patio right outside right away,“ she nodded with a warm smile and Marcus mirrored her. 

„Thank you,“ he said just before she exited his room. 

„You are in this situation because of me, Marcus. It’s the least I can do.“

A week went buy and Marcus was slowly getting used to his new normal in the year 1824. If he was honest with himself he quite enjoyed not having to get into work every morning at the crack of dawn to work for 12 hours only to get some shitty take out on his way home and pass out in front of the TV. 

Instead he could sleep in and just dream into the day. 

Only yesterday Peach had took him on a walk around the capitol. He was fascinated how different yet familiar everything looked. And it was interesting how quickly he got used to the lack of noise in this century. 

There were no cars, no planes. Yes there was some screaming now and then, but nothing compared to the hum of the city he had gotten used without even noticing it before. 

The air was fresher and the people were kinder. 

He had started strolling though the neighbourhood twice a day after Peach had walked around with him the first two days. But he quickly learned that she was a busy woman. 

She was a valued member of the community and even though there were people, mostly men, around who did not take well to a unmarried woman being in charge of an estate, let alone a family business, her success spoke for herself. 

She was also fascinating, intelligent, had a killer sense of humour and one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. More than once he caught himself watching her as she read through her spell book, searching for something that would get Marcus back home. 

And she was doing all that while also planing a giant masquerade ball for Halloween which would happen in the next week.

He knew by now that once she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and slightly aggressively brushing over her cat’s Lucius fur meant that she was getting frustrated. He learned to get her her favourite tea from the kitchen would calm her down and give him one of those small smiles and a squeeze of his hand as thanks that he was sure by now she knew made him blush. 

Of course, only he could accidentally travel back in time by touching a bronze cat, only to fall for the witch who put the spell on said bronze cat. 

„I have a theory,“ she said, exactly a week after Marcus had appeared in her house. 

It was night, Marcus sitting in an armchair opposite the fire place, her second cat Lucky in his lap, purring affectionately as he brushed over her head. He was reading a book, a glass of scotch waiting on the little table next to him. 

Peach was sitting in the armchair next to him, new spell book and another much older looking book in her lap. She was cuddled under a thick fur blanket, Lucius squeezed next to the books in her lap, the black cat only rarely leaving her side.

She was wearing his reading glasses, something she was almost giddy about once he told her what they were as he found them in his suit pocket, the dark thick frames sitting on the tip of her nose. 

„You have?“ He asked and she turned her head to look at him. She was pursing her lips and he found himself wanting to close the distance between them to kiss her plush lips. He took a deep breath, willing these thoughts away. 

„Yes,“ she nodded, sucking her bottom lip in. 

„Are you gonna… tell me about it?“ He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She loved and hated when Marcus looked at her like that. 

Marcus Pike plopped into her life exactly a week ago, and it was like a switch had flipped inside her head she did not know had existed before. 

And when he looked at her like that, his big brown eyes giving her his full attention, more than once she found herself forgetting whatever she was about to say. 

How could it be that no man from her time had held her under his spell as much as Marcus Pike from two hundred years in the future did?

It was like something clicked into place ever since he got here, and she found herself getting less interested in finding a away to send him back into his time. Which was not fair to him, but if she only thought about not seeing him ever again the sadness that took over her made it almost difficult for her to breathe. 

And as he looked at her now, sitting in the armchair next to her, Lucky, her cat that had never let anyone but her touch her until Marcus arrived as she sat in his lap, she again found herself forgetting the words she was about to say. 

She blinked at him, trying shake herself out of his spell, suddenly nervous about the theory she was about to tell him. 

„There is a…. Story about a witch who used the same spell I did on the same figurine. It brought her back the figurine and a man, she wrote was from sixty years in the future.“

„When did that happen?“ Marcus asked, leaning in closer. 

„About a hundred years ago. This spell book is from the mother of one witch from my coven,“ she explained. Marcus nodded. 

„Did she find out why it happened?“ He asked. 

Rubbing her tongue over her teeth, she took a deep breath. 

„Can you show me your left elbow?“ She asked. He frowned.

„Please?“ She added with pleading eyes and he looked at her for a moment more before he nodded. She watched him as he carefully set his book down and pulled the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing up and over his elbow. 

He breath stuttered when she saw the purple scar right above his elbow, the one she got after burning herself when she was just fifteen years old and experimenting with some potions. 

„Marcus…“ she whispered. He was looking at his elbow too, frowning. 

„I… didn’t have this before. What does this mean?“

Instead of answering him she to pulled at the sleeve of the dress she was wearing, showing him the matching scar. 

„It is said in these books, that witches that were born during a full moon on St. Hallows eve have the blessing of soulmates,“ she explained quietly. Looking up at him she found Marcus watching her, listening. 

„It is said that they have the power, knowingly or not, to summon their soulmate. Their one true mate.The universe will chose and find a way to bring them to the witch before her thirtieth birthday,“ she whispered. 

Peach saw Marcus process the words.

„The soulmates share every scar on each others body,“ she continued and Marcus gulped.

„Could you…“ he started before he cleared his throat. 

„I have a scar on my right hip from when I was shot…“ he began and her eyes widened.

„You were shot?“ She asked alarmed.

„Comes with the line of work,“ he shrugged. 

„Did it hurt?“

„Like hell,“ he chuckled and she released a shuddering breath. 

They looked at each others hands for a while. 

„I also have a scar on my leg ankle. Had to get surgery when I was little,“ he said after a while. Taking a deep breath she nodded, before she pulled her left leg up and pulled her dress up. She felt her cheeks warming as she pulled at her stockings. She had never undressed in front of a man like this and she was thankful when she noticed Marcus adverting his eyes. 

She stared at her ankle for a moment, her fingertips brushing over the scar she did not have a week ago. 

„Marcus,“ she whispered in awe and he turned his head to follow her sight. She jumped when she felt his hand on her ankle, his fingers brushing over the scar. 

When she looked up she found Marcus already looking at her and tears filled her eyes. His expression changed to concern as the first tears rolled down her cheek. 

„I did this,“ she whispered. 

„I pulled you from your time, your life, your family. It’s my fault you’re here. I’m so sorry, Marcus,“ she sobbed and she didn’t realise he had gotten up to hug her until she felt the warmth of his chest against her cheek. 

He soothed her, rubbing his hand over her back. 

„Peach,“ he whispered and she shakily breathed out. 

„You may have pulled me from my time, but you did not pull me away from my life,“ he said, chin resting on top of her head. Hesitantly she put her arms around him, her heartbeat slowing down. 

„My life only consisted of work. The only thing I might miss is my sister and her children. But apart from that? There is nothing for me there,“ he explained. 

„That sounds like you already made plans to stay,“ she whispered. 

„Is there even a way to go back?“ He asked. She pulled away from him so she could look at him. 

„There is. I would have to do it before my birthday. It’s a potion you take on the morning of St. Hallows eve that bring you back once the full moon has risen,“ she explained and he nodded. 

„So we have time,“ he said and she frowned. 

„Time for what?“

The smile he gave her made her knees weak.

„To get to know each other. To… to make a decision.“

„You really thinking about staying?“ She asked.

„I have been thinking about it for the last two days already,“ he smiled sheepishly and she found herself smiling at him. 

„I have also been thinking about kissing you,“ he added and her eyes widened. 

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded. Peach sucked her bottom lip in. 

„I have been thinking about many things. But kissing is the most innocent one,“ he said with a mischievous smile and her lips parted. 

She felt hot all of the sudden. 

„Marcus…. I have never…. I am not…..“

„Hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to be honest.“

„I do want to do something though,“ she whispered. 

„What do you want to do?“ He asked and she tilted her head up, looking into his eyes. 

„Kiss you,“ she whispered so quiet he wouldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t been already leaning in, lips so close to hers, he could feel her warmth. 

He smiled at her. 

„Now?“ He whispered. She nodded. 

„Now,“ she repeated. 

Marcus brushed his nose over hers, breathing her in before he slowly closed the distance between them and kissed her softly.

„What is it like in your time?“ Peach asked a couple days later. Both Marcus and her were lying under one of the Peach trees, enjoying the sunny day. She was lying with her head on Marcus’ chest, his arm wrapped securely around her, keeping her close. 

Since they had kissed for the first time, many have followed. 

She couldn’t go long without having him close, the planning of the Masquerade ball having been done with a great input of Marcus due to the fact that she just couldn’t bring herself to part from him. 

People had began to talk. Of course they did. 

Even though she was a great help and valued member of the community, there were still people whispering behind her back, calling her a mad spinster. 

Well, technically she was one. Is one. 

She had never been with a man, having been happy with her life as it was. But ever since Marcus came into her life, she began to ask herself if maybe there was a way to be even happier. 

Which brought her to her question about his time and how it was. 

She couldn’t imagine what the future was like.

But the letter she had received from her brother was concerning. He had been traveling for a while, and reported of the rise of the witch trials and the burning of witches. 

He was concerned for her and frankly, she were starting to be too.

She had noticed the whispers too, her coven spreading awareness, asking everyone to be even more cautious. 

„What do you want to know?“ Marcus asked, grabbing her hand, his fingers beginning to play with her fingers. 

Peach hummed, trying to think what exactly she wanted to know. 

„You said you worked as an… Agent?“ She asked, feeling him nod. 

„Yes. I am an FBI Agent. They are sort of a police, if I had to describe it. There are different sorts of police formed for different crimes. I work in art theft. Which means if a important piece of art, such as a painting or let’s say a bronze cat figurine get stolen, I get called to find out what happened,“ he explained. 

„Is this a dangerous kind of work?“

„Not really.“

„You did get shot though,“ she said, turning her head so she could look at him. He hummed, his finger wrapping around hers, holding her hand. 

„That was a…. Very unique situation that will never happen again,“ he said. Peach kept looking at him before she slowly nodded. 

„Where do you live?“

„At the moment in a small apartment that I pay way too much for,“ he chuckled, making her frown. 

„Rent is very expensive, but I do have my eyes on a house not to far from here actually. I looked at it a month ago and put in an offer.“

„I hope you get it,“ she said and he smiled at her. 

„Why do you ask?“

„I… might have not told you everything about the soulmate situation,“ she said and Marcus raised one of his eyebrows in question. 

„The summoned soulmate can go home, like I said. But the only time they can go home is before the thirtieth birthday of the witch who summoned them ends. If they stay beyond that day there is no going back,“ she explained. 

„The potion I brew this morning, while you were reading in the study can send you back into your time,“ she continued and Marcus squeezed her hand. 

„However the soulmates witch can also chose to go with them if she takes the potion too,“ Peach said quietly, and Marcus stilled beneath her before he sat himself up, pulling her with him. She was looking at him as he took her other hand. 

„You would go with me? Leave all of this?“ He asked, brows furrowed. 

„Would you stay here? Leave your whole life in the future that sounds like it has so many advantages compared to this time?“ She asked. 

„I would stay if it meant I could stay with you,“ he said sincerely and she found herself leaning in to kiss him softly. 

„And I would go with you if it meant I could stay with you,“ she mumbled against his lips. 

„But you don’t know what you would be getting into. I know both sides. I know what I would give up by staying here with you. Yes there are certain things, like indoor pluming I would miss, but I would have you. I could… I could grow old with you. Here. In this beautiful place. We could get married. Have children if you want them. You could teach me witchy things,“ he grinned and she giggled before her face got serious. 

„I might be in danger if I stay here. Witch trials are on the rise and my brother wrote about having heard of witch burnings on his travels. I don’t know if we could have all you dreamed of, if we stayed here,“ she mumbled. Marcus hand came to touch her cheek, his eyes focused on hers, his face serious. 

„I read about the witch trials once. I don’t think I would have a way to protect you,“ he sighed and she smiled sadly. 

„So tell me everything you could think of from your time. So I am as prepared as I could be if you would accept me to join you,“ she said.

He kissed her instead, pulling her close against his chest. 

„I would be honoured to have you with me, sweetheart,“ he whispered against her lips, before he began to tell her about his future. 

It was the night before St. Hallows eve.

Her brother had returned home earlier that day and once he had met Marcus, it seemed like he knew she was about to leave. Peach had a long talk with him after lunch, walking with him through the gardens, explaining everything. 

It would hurt her to leave her brother behind, but he told her he would be happy letting her go into a future where she could live with her soulmate, instead of having to be scared to lose her to the witch trials and their fanatics. 

It also meant he had to stop his travels, and finally settle down to take over the family business. But as he told her with a shy smile about a girl he met on his travels who was supposed to visit with her family in the following weeks, Peach felt better about leaving. 

After dinner her brother, Marcus and Peach took a nightcap, checking if everything was ready for the big ball the next day. Peach had made some costumes for the both of them, giving it to them before saying good night, retiring to her chambers. 

As she sat in the middle of her bed for what would probably the last night in her home, her century, she tried to think about what to take with her. She knew from Marcus that not everything he had on him made it to the past, to her. She could only hope that her spell book that she would put in her pocket would make it with her. 

She also had instructed her brother that, if possible, the should store some of her trinkets and things at a secure space at the local bank. She didn’t know if it would wait for two hundred years for her, but she wanted to try. 

She was about to blow out her candle to go to sleep when there was a knock on her door.

Knowing there was only one person who would seek her out so late, she called for them to enter, smiling when Marcus walked in, closing the door behind him. 

„What brings you to this side of the house on this late hour, dear sir?“ She asked teasingly. He slowly walked over to her, stopping in front of her bed. 

„I missed you,“ he just said and her heart stopped, before it beat twice the speed again. He was dressed in a long white night gown, something he was not used to, as he told her, telling her that he usually slept naked, making her flush with warmth. 

Nibbling on her bottom lip she looked up at him.

„Would you like to spend the night with me, Marcus?“ She asked. He exhaled audibly, his eyes closing. 

„That was not my intention. But I have to admit I would love to,“ he said warmly. 

„What was your intention then?“ She asked.

„A good night kiss,“ he said and she could his cheek blushing slightly. 

„I already gave you three,“ she teased and he chuckled, before he pulled back the covers of her bed, slipping under neath them. He turned to her, his face almost touching her. 

His arm came to carefully rest on her hip over the blanket. 

„I will never have enough of you, sweet love,“ he whispered and she smiled, butterflies in her belly as she closed the distance between them, kissing him softly. 

The kisses quickly turned passionate, tongues playing with each other, hands exploring each others body. It was when Marcus leg slipped between her legs and she instinctly moved her hips, her breath stuttering against his lips that he stopped. Painting for air as he rested his forehead against hers.

„We should stop,“ he whispered.

„What if I don’t want to stop?“ She whispered back and he groaned. She could feel his manhood hard against her belly and she had read just enough to know what to do to make him feel good. 

Slowly she let her hand slip underneath the blanket, her finger finding his hard length, giving it a small squeeze. He moaned her name and she had never felt so powerful.

„While I want nothing more than to fuck your little pussy,“ she gasped at hearing those words, „I would prefer we wait until we are in my time. I don’t think I could stop myself from coming inside of you and while I love the idea of babies, we should wait at least a little to work on them,“ he said and she parted her lips in a small O. 

„There are ways in the future that prevent pregnancies?“ she asked, fascinated. 

„Several,“ he nodded, before kissing her again. 

„There are however certain other ways to explore each other without going the full way,“ he continued, slowly kissing down her neck. 

„Oh?“ She asked. 

„Would you like to let me show you?“ He kissed down to her collarbone, pulling at her nightgown, looking up at her with dark eyes. 

„Yes please,“ she gasped, her eyes slipping close as his lips kissed down her body. 

The masquerade ball was in full swing once Marcus and Peach entered the hall. Him dressed completely in black, the beautiful black velvet cloak she had let made for him, fitting him perfectly. His face was hidden behind a simple black mask. Yet she knew it would be him anywhere. 

She was wearing a deep green silk dress, with a mask that matched Marcus’.

After they…. Explored each others bodies until the early morning hours, they had woken up in each others arms, spending the whole morning in bed with Marcus wishing her a happy birthday in all ways he could think of.The both had drank the potion before having breakfast, sealing their decision with a kiss before they left her chambers to help with the last preparation for the ball. 

Yet when the time came, Marcus seemed to be easily distracted from the dress she was wearing. His fingers seemingly finding their way underneath it and inside of her, making her sing his name while the whole house was already filled with guests, leaving her being late to her own ball. 

Now they were dancing.

They were laughing and she couldn’t remember ever being that happy. 

It was a quarter to midnight when they made their way outside, drinking the second part of the potion she had made, sealing it yet again with a kiss. 

Her bother was waiting with them, away from all the guests. 

They said their goodbyes, her crying a little at the thought of never seeing him again. 

„Be happy,“ he whispered, before he kissed her forehead.

Marcus and him also said their goodbyes, her brother whispering something to Marcus to which he nodded, before Marcus joined her back, taking her hand. 

„Do you know what happens next?“ Her brother asked, to which she shook her head. 

She looked at Marcus as the church bell began to ring and he kissed her with a smile. 

And then. 

They were gone.

One year later

„Careful,“ Marcus stopped Peach as she was carrying another huge pumpkin. He rushed over to her while she rolled her eyes affectionately. He took the pumpkin from her, carrying it to the house. When he came back he pulled her against him, or as much as the belly between them let him, kissing her nose. 

„You are not allowed to carry anything heavy, doctors orders,“ he reminded her and she sighed, dramatic. Looking down she felt her black cat, Lucius the second, slip by her legs before he walked outside to where Marcus had left the door open. 

„It wasn’t that heavy,“ she pouted and he sighed, kissing her pout away. 

„When is the coven coming?“ He asked. 

„In about twenty minutes,“ she mumbled, jumping in the next moment when the dishwasher began to sing its little melody to inform them it was finished. 

She still was getting used to the future.

Both Marcus and her had been more than surprised when she did not only find her trinkets and things she had asked her brother to put in the back safe, but a significant amount of money and estates in her name. 

Which is why they were now living on a small farm close to Marcus’ sister who, much to Marcus’s surprise, was a witch too. 

„So we have enough time for some…“ he kissed down her neck making her sigh. 

„You know twenty minutes is nothing enough, my love,“ she hummed making him sigh. 

„Later?“ He asked. 

„Later,“ she nodded, kissing him. They enjoyed each others embrace when they both felt a kick from her stomach, both chuckling. Marcus hand slipped onto her belly, another kick following. She put her hand on top of his, the ring he had put on her finger only last week at a small ceremony in their garden, sparkling in the light. 

Even though the future came with an overwhelming amount of new things they learned that contraceptives weren’t as reliable as Marcus thought.

Their little one was due in four months.

„I love you,“ she said and the smile he gave her was almost blinding. 

„I love you more,“ he hummed. 

„In every century?“ She asked and he chuckled. 

„In each and every one you find me,“ he smiled against her lips as he leaned down to kiss her. 

[sitepathos]

What if on the night of our death Alfred really did come back. Like perhaps a feeling or an urge to return before his vacation was up feeling that something was happening something bad. And he discovers us missing from the manor and found out the others got a ransom call but brushed it off. Would it change the current events , if so what happens ?

Look, if you were to say Alfred has the Meta Gene, I’d believe it. Honestly, that would explain how he’s strong enough to carry all of Wayne Manor and the Batfamily on his back. Batman is called the Greatest Detective in the World, but Alfred is the true holder of the title. He can tell something’s wrong with you just by seeing how you walk and trust me, nothing escapes his gaze.

Anyway, let’s just say he decided to come home the night you’re kidnapped. And oh boy, does shit get real.

In this scenario, he gets back sometime after the Bats left the cave, which was just after the phone call. The moment he walks through that door, he knows something is wrong right away. You’ve heard of Spider Senses, well, this is Alfred Senses and when something is wrong in his house, he knows it instantly, be it something breaking, a mess, or something concerning a family member.

And as he’s able to track all of the Bats on the Batcomputer in the Cave, he knows something has a happened to you and he can feel a few years being shaved off his life. While he’s pulling up your location on the computer, he sees the house recently received a call from an unknown number and when he listens to the recording (I’m positive Bruce records every call made to and from the landlines), his heart stops altogether.

And when he sees the number came from a burner phone, meaning there’s no way of tracking it, he loses it, beating himself up for leaving when he knew the family wouldn’t give you the proper attention and care. Luckily for him, your phone is still active and broadcasting your location, giving him a sliver of hope.

The signal is coming from My Alibi, meaning you’re probably surrounded by thugs. And with the Bats busy looking for Joker, that means he’s on his own.

When I say this man has an arsenal of firearms that would make Jason jealous, it’s no exaggeration. He puts on a bulletproof vest, loads up with his trusty shotgun, multiple pistols, and a dozen different kind of grenades, and drives off in his car like a bat out of hell (pun intended). I mean, this man would make John Wick afraid for his life.

When he gets there, he’s ready to wage war on everyone in that building and raze it to the ground. He storms in there, ready to shoot at the first person to look at him funny, but is greeted by a total massacre; everyone in the building is dead.

He finally locates the source of the slaughter: a figure in black armor cornering three men in the back of the bar. He watches in awe as the figure kills the man he’s holding by the neck before swiftly killing the other two, leaving only him and this creature.

When it turns, he raises his shotgun, ready to fill it full of lead—

“Alfred,” it says in a familiar voice. That’s when the armor disappears, revealing you, staring at him in total shock. “Why are you here?”

“Master Y/N,” he whispers, quickly lowering his weapon for fear of it accidentally going off and hurting you.

The entire time, he feared for your life, afraid that by the time he reached you, he’d find you dead and he would have to go through another funeral for one of his grandchildren. But, here you are, alive and unharmed.

It doesn’t matter that you just slaughtered all the bar’s patrons, everyone in here was common scum and the world is better off without them.

He takes a step towards you, wanting nothing more than to take you in his arms and never let go, to bring you back to the manor and put this awful night behind both of you.

That’s when you turn sprout a pair of wings and burst through the ceiling, flying away from him as fast as you can, you face horrified that the man you love and respect more than anyone else in the world has just seen you murder over a dozen people in a single evening.

[calliesmemes]

DARKNESS HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

UNSETTLING SENTENCE STARTERS FROM VARIOUS SOURCES THAT WILL SEND SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE AND LEAVE AN OMINOUS FEELING LINGERING IN THE ROOM.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   I’m deep inside your mind. There is no escape for you. ”

“   You save everyone, but who saves you? ”

“   The power inside of me — it’s terrifying. ”

“   Power belongs to those who take it. ”

“   You’ll be the ruin of me, won’t you? ”

“   You weren’t meant to save the world — you were meant to destroy it. ”

“   You didn’t break me; you built me. All you did was make me ruthless. ”

“   You have no power over me. ”

“   I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me. ”

“   All the greatest loves end in violence. ”

“   I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes. ”

“   In theory the prophecy could still come true. ”

“   One day, your empathy is going to get you killed. ”

“   We are masters of our own destiny. ”

“   Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive. ”

“   The horror that you have seen is not who you are. ”

“   A little too much anger, too often or at the wrong time, can destroy more than you would ever imagine. ”

“   Your scars are not your shame; they are your story. ”

“   I will never turn my back on people who need me. ”

“   Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age? ”

“   Your mind is a weapon. Keep it loaded. ”

“   Are you hearing those voices again? ”

“   It scares me sometimes. The emptiness I see in your eyes. ”

“   You may not be interested in the war, but the war is interested in you. ”

“   Haven’t you taken enough from me? ”

“   You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you have committed. ”

“   It is okay to be angry. It is never okay to be cruel. ”

“   I hope that what you did to me haunts you. ”

“   The price of freedom is high. It always has been. ”

“   When you talk, I can hear the revolution. ”

“   Do not pretend that you are some meek, pathetic little girl when I can see that vicious mind working behind your eyes. ”

“   Your new life will cost you your old one. ”

“   Watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can. ”

“   Some people are in your life to test you ”

“   Fear makes men more dangerous than magic ever could. ”

“   At what point do you think i'll become the wound itself and not simply the bearer? ”

“   We are made of all those who have built and broken us. ”

“   All power demands sacrifice and pain. ”

“   Some things buried deep need to stay that way. ”

“   You and I are going to change the world. ”

“   I wonder which will get you killed faster — your loyalty, or your stubbornness? ”

“   Something’s made your eyes go cold. ”

“   If I am not a weapon, then what am I? ”

“   Your chains are broken, but are you truly free? ”

“   You were alone before they left you. ”

“   You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature. ”

“   It’s awful not to be loved. It’s the worst thing in the world … it makes you mean, and violent, and cruel ”

“   We can simultaneously be both human and monster. ”

“   I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. ”

“   You laugh like a little girl and think like a martyr. ”

“   Grief taught me inhumane things. ”

“   You will always be a monster. There is no turning back from it. ”

“   I know there’s a villain, and I’m worried it’s me. ”

“   I can’t stand the bitter thing that I’ve become. ”

“   People will never bleed enough to fulfill your vision of justice. ”

“   What if I told you the truth about what happened that night? ”

“   Part of me died in order to survive. ”

“   We are cursed with a tendency for violence. ”

“   I speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ”

“   I see no use quarrelling with fate. ”

“   Nobody smart plays fair. ”

“   Fine, make me your villain. ”

“   They should be terrified of me. ”

“   I gave you devotion, blood, and my life. ”

“   How disappointing, when people succumb to what is expected of them. ”

“   Perhaps that was why I had to endure pain — because true transformation can only happen in the crucible of suffering. ”

“   Morality, too, is a question of time. ”

“   Memories destroy us. ”

“   My entire life, I’ve been fighting a war. ”

“   Fair is foul, and foul is fair. ”

“   Are you becoming what you’ve always hated? ”

“   I have found it takes a lot of strength to endure myself. ”

“   Loving any of us is a death sentence, isn’t it? ”

“   You long to be bandaged before you have been cut. ”

“   I feel so lost among these entirely strange people. ”

“   Remembering is like an open wound. ”

“   The wounded recognize the wounded. ”

“   I am alone and am suffocating because I cannot give voice to my emotions. ”

“   I’ve lived through entire tragedies in silence. ”

“   The more you love, the more you suffer. ”

“   The crowd that applauds a ruler’s coronation is the same crowd that will applaud a tyrant’s beheading. People like a show. ”

“   You are a better knife than you are a person. ”

“   Life goes more smoothly without a heart. ”

“   People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar. ”

“   I’m nostalgic for the anger I once had. ”

“   The pain I didn’t tell you about has built a home inside of me. ”

“   My greatest regret was how much I believed in my own future. ”

“   All I ever do is grieve. ”

“   Do not mock a pain you haven’t endured. ”

“   I control the shadows. They do not control me. ”

“   Turn the pain into power. ”

“   Sometimes, we survive by forgetting. ”

“   I am now the most miserable man living. ”

“   To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me. ”

“   In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony. ”

“   I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me. ”

“   Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives. ”

“   Maybe everything that you thought was breaking you was actually leading you towards yourself. ”

“   Sometimes, not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world. ”