#(and also because he wants to be Nightmare's favourite and this is his evidence)

[somegrumpynerd]

When you find out years later that you accidentally named one of your henchmen

Image ID: A multi-panel comic featuring au sanses. Panel 1: In Killer's original universe. A dark figure stands in the foreground while Killer is sitting back in the snow, covered in blood. Killer says "wh-what are you?" Panel 2: The dark figure is Nightmare but only his smile is visible. He says "I am Nightmare, guardian of all negativity in the multiverse ...and I have a proposition for you, Sans." Panel 3: Nightmare's hand is outstreched, he says "Come with me willingly and I'll take you out of this desolate and barren universe and let you loose on many others." Panel 4: Killer is looking back at Nightmare warily, a thought bubble shows he is thinking "other universes...?". He says "...in exchange for what? What do you want with me?" Panel 5: Nightmare's tentacles are reaching out towards Killer. He says "I feed off the fear and misery and hatred in this world, stirring these up will keep me powerful enough to fight against the guardian of positivity. In short," Panel 6: Nightmare is looming over Killer now, his tentacles surrounding him. He says "I just need you to be a good little killer." The word killer is in red text. Panel 7: Killer is grasping Nightmare's hand, having accepted his offer. Panel 8: Now in a different au, Nightmare stands beside Killer as he taunts Dream, who is out of frame. He says "You're outnumbered now Dream, I have a killer with me this time." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 9: Dream is lying on the ground looking hurt and ruffed up. Killer is standing in the background, looking ready to continue beating Dream up. Nightmare says from out of frame "You should know better than to turn your back on a killer by now." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 10: Nightmare is standing by Killer again, looking smug. He says to Dream, who is not shown "You'll need more than that pathetic bow next time you meet with my killer here." The word killer is in red text again. Killer is looking towards Nightmare, pleased with this. Panel 11: We are now in Nightmare's castle, present day. It is revealed to be Killer telling these events to Dust, who looks bored. Killer says "-and the name stuck, so that's why I'm called Killer now." Dust says very quietly "did I ask" Panel 12: Nightmare is standing in the corner behind them, he looks very surprised and concerned after hearing all this. Text with an arrow pointing to him reads "Didn't realise he had done this." Killer from out of frame says "he doesn't really call me his killer anymore tho" with a frowny face. Dust, also out of frame, says "that's nice now shut up" End ID.

[rynwritesreid]

Okay, so i request a lot of smut but i’m gonna surprise you and request the most tooth rotting fluff you can write. Pregnant!reader x totally in love, acts of service!spencer. Do your thing 😉

A/N: I love all requests, but requests from my mutuals especially iluvreid, are my favourite. But sorry this took a long time, I am slowly getting through requests:)

Summary: it’s basically the request, but I’ve added in a little more detail about the pregnancy and yes I do believe Spencer Reid is a girl dad!

Content: pregnant!reader. I don’t think I have used pronouns in this, but Fem!reader just to be sure. Acts of service/loving!Spencer. Fluff. Mentions of morning sickness. Mentions of food. Heavy talk about pregnancy. Talk of Spencer been scared to be a dad, but reader reassures him.

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

Spencer Reid had had both nightmares and dreams about becoming a dad. He did truly want to be one, but he also didn’t want to become like his dad or make his child suffer like he did while witnessing his mother’s mental health crisis.

 

But you had assured him that he would make an amazing father, and that all the stuff he was worrying about showed him that.

 

So, the day you showed him a positive pregnancy test, with a huge smile on your face, he knew he would have to put some of his fears aside because he had to take care of you.

 

*


For the first few weeks, Spencer would always wake up before you. He would get some water and put into the fridge, making sure it was chilled for you. He would get some ginger biscuits out from the cupboard and start making you a cup of tea.

 

Once he had heard you wake up and shuffle your way to the bathroom he would come in shortly after you to make sure you were okay. His heart swelled with love and pride as he watched you, his hand resting protectively on your back as you leaned over the sink. The worry etched on his face softened as you turned to him with a tired smile, grateful for his silent support.

 

“Are you feeling okay today?” Spencer asked, concern evident in his voice.

 

“I don’t feel as sick today, just a little queasy and exhausted, that’s all.” You grinned, reaching out to hold his hand. "Thank you for taking care of me, Spencer. I appreciate it more than words can say."

 

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always take care of you, Y/N. You and our little one mean everything to me." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back to let you finish up in the bathroom.

 

*

 

You and Spencer had discussed if you wanted to find out the gender of your baby when it came to the 22-week scan, and you both agreed you did. You didn’t care what gender the baby was going to be, but you believed Spencer would be the most amazing girl dad.

 

As you both sat in the waiting room, Spencer held your hand tightly, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. The anticipation of finding out whether you were having a boy, or a girl was palpable in the air.

 

When your name was called, you both walked hand in hand to the examination room. The sonographer greeted you warmly and began the scan. You watched the screen anxiously, feeling your heart race with excitement.

 

Suddenly, the sonographer smiled and pointed to the screen. "Congratulations," she said, "It's a girl."

 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Spencer, whose face broke into a wide grin. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before turning his attention back to the screen, his eyes filled with wonder and love.

 

"We're having a daughter," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

 

“You’re going to make the most amazing dad, Spencer. You already make the most perfect husband.”

 

Spencer Reid's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he reached out to caress your cheek, overwhelmed with emotion. The reality of becoming a father to a little girl filled him with a mixture of joy and trepidation, but seeing the love and trust in your eyes gave him the strength he needed to embrace this new chapter of his life.

*

 

You had popped around six months, and Spencer couldn’t get enough. He loved putting his hand on the bump and feeling the baby kick. He loved talking to you about baby names, and being able to talk to the baby knowing it would recognise his voice soon enough.

 

He also loved been able to take care of you. Anytime you needed anything, he would offer to get it for you. Even before you had gotten pregnant, he was an act of services person, but now his acts of kindness and care had intensified. Spencer had become even more attentive and thoughtful, always ensuring you were comfortable and taken care of.

 

 Spencer didn’t mind running out at odd hours to fetch your favourite ice cream flavour to giving you foot massages after a long day, Spencer made sure you were always comfortable and well taken care of. He had even offered to sleep in the spare bedroom, so you could have as much bed space as you wanted.

 

As your due date approached, Spencer's excitement and nerves reached new heights. He had meticulously prepared the nursery, painting the walls in a soft shade of lavender, and assembling the crib with precision. Every night, he would sit in the rocking chair, reading aloud to your growing belly with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

 

“Do you think she’s going to be more of a Beethoven or a Mozart fan?” you teased, watching Spencer's face light up with a mixture of amusement and adoration.

 

“Oh, I think she’s going to be a Vivaldi fan. But I also know she’s probably going to be the only one who can beat me at chess.” Spencer smiled at the thought, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. The idea of sharing his passions and interests with his daughter filled him with an indescribable sense of joy.

 

“She’s going to be smart person ever. Probably even smarter than you, so of course she’ll be able to beat you at chess.”

 

Spencer chuckled at your playful banter, his heart overflowing with love for both you and the little girl growing inside you. He couldn't wait to meet her, to hold her in his arms and show her the world through his gentle, intelligent eyes.

 

“I think we should call her, Astrid Luna Reid.” You watched as Spencer's eyes widened with surprise before a soft smile spread across his face. "Astrid Luna Reid," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of wonder and warmth. "It's perfect. Our little star, our moonlight."

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[hotluncheddie]

omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

-

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

[finniestoncrane]

What’s this? I haven’t fallen into your inbox yet?

Time to change that.

Any scarecrows your pick, what’s their dirtiest fantasies

Dirtiest Fantasies

Scarecrow Headcanons my beloved for you anything u-u (and also i wanted to be yucky disgusting about the boys anyway lol) 🎃🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: humiliation and degradation, abuse of authority, teacher/pupil vibes, blood play, knife play, fear play, some cnc, somnophilia OH GOD SO MANY GOOD THINGS

golden age

he feels it's probably not a great thing for him to admit to

given his chosen career path...

but it's just a kink, so let him live omg

so what if he wants you to pretend to be one of his students

a struggling little soul who needs some extra tutoring

and maybe you tell him you'll do anything for him

anything to pass his class

"please professor crane, i want to make you proud"

"you're my favourite professor, i admire you so much"

"i actually... have a little bit of a crush on you haha"

"maybe we could come to an... arrangement?"

the feeling of control, of having you under his thumb

of you needing to please him

that's what's getting him off for sure, all the power play

he might even have you bend over his desk for some spanking

arkham

this jonathan would prefer to have you in a state of agreement

preferably coerced or (agreed to beforehand or not...)

he wants to feel in control, but also needed by you

so his fantasy involves you being lulled into a gentle sleep

and then subjected to his fear toxin, inducing a nightmare

while he watches from the corner of the room

palming his cock as you squirm and whimper in the bed

tears falling in complete terror before he lays down on top of you

you'd do anything to feel some comfort in that moment

even if it's coming in the form of nightmare vision crane

so you'll be likely to let him do what he wants

anything to bring you out of the horrible dream you're stuck in

having you beg him to save you, clinging to him

to look at your face contort in terror and pain

while he empties himself inside of you? perfect

btaa

more fear play, but with a very physical and very lucid twist

he needs you to be fully conscious and completely aware

the fear isn't coming from any drugs or toxin

no no no, he wants to create the fear in you

so you'll definitely be tied up, only a safeword in your arsenal

as he dangles a rather literal sword of damocles above you

vulnerable body exposed to the potential danger

the teasing, the threat, your pulse beating fast as he measures it

maybe it drops a little, maybe it punctures the skin just a tiny bit

and maybe, just to make sure everything is nice and clean

he licks it away, hiding the evidence, like a good criminal

maybe he'll get you to lick the blade clean yourself

because you'd do anything for him right?

mostly out of adoration and devotion... obviously

but also because you know what he's capable of

[zqmbiescorpse]

GLADIATOR, PART 2

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: yay johanna is in this part, sorry if any parts seem messed up? i don't know if copying it from ao3 affected it.

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: trauma, mild violence - a lot lighter than the previous part, also mentions of forced prostitution

word count: 3.01k

(part 3) (masterlist)

You woke with a start, having been thrashing around in your sleep, evident in the many luxurious duvets and plumped pillows scattered around everywhere, that same nightmare fresh in your mind as you processed your surroundings. Every single night you relived the terror of the events that occurred during the games; your victory and merciless killing of the District 1 tribute whose name you hadn't even known. That was bordering on three years ago, of course, his name was engraved into your everyday thoughts now.

Lonnie Velasco. Funnily enough, his name was the only one you could remember out of all the 23 other tributes. His name was the only one you wanted to forget. Without fail, you'd see his face each time you closed your eyes, the memory of his golden curls slicked back with a grim, homemade gel consisting of sweat, blood, and grease - his perfectly kept tanned skin splattered with patches of crimson. Worst of all, it was the fear-stricken look in his eyes, silently begging you to let him live while he tried to breathe; the pressure of your hands squeezing his bruised neck, purples, greys and blues flourishing beneath your fingertips, the life draining from the blonde who was really just a boy.

After countless interviews celebrating your 'honourable' victory, every moment you had unfortunately shared with Lonnie in that arena was seared into your mind, constantly hanging over your head, the guilt clinging to your entire being, its nails digging into your flesh solidifying its position there.

Returning home to District 5, you and your family soon moved into a new, very expensive house provided by the Capitol as a reward for winning the games. It was much larger than anything you had lived in before; an appropriate accommodation for a family of six, but, a lot of the time you wished you could have the spacious building to yourself. You were happy they were happy, delighted that the elongated torture you had endured brought a little positivity into your life.

Yet, here you were, back in a Capitol apartment years later, being reaped for a second time. The third Quarter Quell. You couldn't exactly describe how you felt hearing your name get read out from that stupid slip of paper. Your stomach dropped in an instant, twisting and threatening to throw up any food you had consumed earlier in the day, your knees suddenly feeling weak, shaky, the lower half of your body easily mistaken for a wobbling jelly struggling to support the upper half.

There was no hope for a volunteer as you and an elderly woman were the two female victors of District 5, understandably she acknowledged the fact that her name wasn't called and moved on. Still, it wasn't fair that you had to plunge back into the nightmare, tearing open all gradually healing mental wounds wide open, re-exposed to the trauma of the games you had been working on overcoming. On top of that, you were also, very clearly, unsuitable for combat, your dominant hand having three out of five fingers made it almost impossible to grip anything, let alone a weapon. Not to mention you were half blind.

Crashing waves of anger, misery and hopelessness washed over you, not stopping anytime soon - causing your muscles to tense, teeth grinding against each other in order to stop yourself from lashing out in front of everyone, not wanting peacekeepers to view your perfectly natural, valid human emotions as acts of defiance.

That was days ago, time passed and so did your intense negativity, allowing yourself to take a calmer approach to the situation in front of you. You wanted to make it out alive, meaning you had to prepare yourself the best you could, mentally, more death and tragedy were coming, finding their way toward you, its dirty filthy ways of eternally fucking a person over crawling into the fresh, open flesh representative of your trauma. Then, you were provided with a shining beacon of hope.

That morning, Haymitch had caught up to you somehow, discreetly pulling you aside, out of sight without a single soul noticing your absence. At first, you hadn't thought it was weird, knowing Haymitch for a good while now made you close friends, leading you to believe that he had plans about something. You figured the girl from District 12, Katniss, who had won the Games alongside Peeta the year prior, was involved because of rumours circulating about rebellious acts committed in their games.

Although you were correct about her, you weren't expecting Haymitch to come out with this ridiculous plan to ensure the survival of Peeta and Katniss. Supposedly, he wanted you and, about, eight other tributes to secretly work together to get as many survivors as possible out of the arena, and the two victors of District 12 to District 13. The entire concept made your brain short circuit and you weren't sure if you fully understood what was going to happen, or why it was, yet, you leaped at the opportunity to aid in the rebellion, flattered to be so trusted by Haymitch. He was glad, feeling more secure that you were in on it too.

You let out a sigh, the breath wavering as you stared up at the ceiling of the unnecessarily huge apartment. Chances of getting back to sleep were slim, extremely slim, especially after being coated in an uncomfortable sweat from an incredibly vivid dream and the thought of Haymitch’s plan wouldn't leave you be.

Most of the other tributes, you found, suffered the same fate of constant night terrors, even combined it would be a miracle if between you a full ten hours was achieved. Restless, you'd heard that the others would venture down into the training rooms at night, though, not a single person laid a finger on anything dangerous. It was more of a social thing, they would go down there to clear their minds or maybe talk, depending on whether anybody else was down there with them.

Besides, the rooms had to have been left open for a reason - you speculated it was for the audience, to show strong friendships between past victors, making the upcoming games more exhilarating, entertaining, and possibly sad? Did the people of the Capitol have it in them to feel sad, to sympathise? You weren't sure.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made sure your sleepwear looked somewhat presentable in case of finding company tonight, shuffling quietly through the apartments to avoid waking anyone who might've been resting. Surprisingly, the corridors and elevators were well-lit at this time, each bright shine leading you closer to your destination.

Eventually, you approached the set of heavy, double doors (metal you were sure) indicative of the training room and social areas. You brushed your shoulder up against it, jolts shooting down your body at the cold surface, slowly cracking the right door open, producing a limited amount of noise.

Squinting at the fully illuminated room, it took a second for your eye to adjust to the space. However, it didn't take long to spot the spikey, red-headed woman sitting not too far away from where you were standing; seemingly busy, not yet noticing you, her fingers running carefully along the edge of an axe, resting in her lap.

You'd known Johanna since the 73rd Hunger Games, the pair of you mentoring for your respected district tributes (7 and 5), thus giving you the opportunity to meet in person. Unbeknownst to you, she had watched your games as closely as you had watched hers the previous year, logical due to your similar age range - her older by just over a year. Because you and Johanna were the youngest mentors for that year, you remembered trying to make conversation, and a friend, so your time back in the Capitol was manageable.

"Can't sleep?"

Ripped away from your mindless daydreaming, you were met with an alerted Johanna, her entire attention fixated on you, a wide grin apparent on her face like she found humour in her own dumb question.

"No…I can't," You managed, the inner workings of your brain coming to a halt the second her eyes were on you. Normally, your mind works at a fast pace, and speaking to people was never an issue. Until it was. Until it was Johanna you were speaking with. "How are you feeling?" You offered, asking an unintentionally dumb question in return.

"How am I feeling?" She echoed, fired up and amused, but in an angry sense. "Pissed off, for starters."

"Sorry, I don't know why I asked that," You trailed off, feeling a bit awkward but really, your short-tempered friend wasn't all that bothered by it, she wasn't mad at you per se.

A sigh.

Watching as Johanna looked back down to the weapon, you didn't know if that was your sign to leave, frustrated at yourself for being so stupid and messing up a conversation before it even had a chance to get going. Tentatively, you turned toward the metal doors, about to walk away.

"It's fine." Shaking the hair out of her face, she lifted her head to gaze at you, catching how quickly you quipped back around to face her. "I'd rather have you for company than anyone else" Johanna cracked up, adding a swift, "Not like there's anyone decent about anyway," to the end of the sentence, retracting the affection immediately after it was given out.

"Well, thank you. It's been a while, kinda sucks this is the way I get to see you again" You paid a short amount of attention to what she had just said, possibly flustered and not wanting it to affect you.

"Kinda sucks?" Johanna laughed, that uniquely menacing laugh that you adored, "This is a load of shit, Y/N and I can't believe they're putting us through it again."

Her tone shifted, the irritation seeping from her words. You noticed her hand around the axe start to tremble furiously, chuckling still while gritting her teeth. You took it upon yourself to join Johanna, sitting down beside her and waiting for her to calm down. She did, the tense atmosphere becoming a comfortable silence.

Sympathy; it was all you could feel. A huge part of your admiration for Johanna came from the fire that burned so dangerously within her, her adamant refusal to sell herself away to the capital as a prostitute, to be used once more by those disgusting, thieving mutts. She lost her family because of it, because she wanted to have some of her life back after losing so much of herself in that damned arena.

You knew that, deep down, a part of Johanna resented you because you escaped the threat of it. The injuries that permanently mangled your body, from the brutality of that final brawl, made you unfit for it, undesirable to the citizens of the profound Capitol. Prosthetics and whatnot had been offered to 'fix you up', but you couldn't let them do that to you. If it weren't for the sheer entertainment your suffering brought for the Capitol, your family would also be dead because you defied them.

Pride was the last word you felt regarding your wounds; they didn't make you feel like the warrior you had been made out to be, they were just a constant reminder of the trauma you have endured - haunting any possible peaceful moments, taking over your life. For crying out loud, you couldn't even try to see the world how you used to before your games, literally and metaphorically (since you lost an eye and have to deal with wonky depth perception, on top of everything else.)

Her breath was in sync with yours, the inhaling and exhaling being the only noise in the room. From the corner of your eye, you could see her looking at you, observing you, while a smug yet warmish smile crept onto her lips. Sheepishly, you averted your focus from a random spot on the training room floor to glance at Johanna. She tilted her head and raised her dark eyebrows at you, expecting you to say something.

"I don't think I'm making it out of there alive this time," You said, honestly. You sensed it wasn't what the pretty redhead wanted you to say, however, you didn't miss the way her eyes softened slightly at your comment.

"We've all done it once, we're all capable." Johanna renounced, sharply intaking a breath, disturbed at what she had implied. "You'll be fine," she added, reaching out to pat your shoulder in support, trying to reassure you. You appreciated it deeply, a light flutter in your stomach.

Unexpectedly, her arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, pulling you forward slightly, forcing you into an embrace, your arms mirroring the position of hers, your hand brushing against her back. It was silent for a moment. You could hear your own quickened heartbeat and you were sure she could hear it too. There was so little space between you that the sound of her opening her mouth to say something was impossible to miss; her breath tickling your earlobe as she leaned in even closer now.

"Are you in on it too, Y/N?"

All the tension built up in your cramped muscles loosened, providing a sensation that made you feel like you were deflating. The hug was merely a cover to disguise her question, so anybody watching wouldn't have heard what she was asking you, instead assuming that you and Johanna were sharing this moment of melancholy, in each other's arms. To be honest, you mistook it for the same thing. Working yourself up like that, hoping for something different than what you got. She was playing with you.

"Yes…I am," You responded, sensing she'd pull away at any second. She didn't.

Johanna let you stay there for a while. It comforted you both. You had no idea how she would be feeling exactly, but you knew it made you feel safe and appreciated, and hoped that it made her feel similarly positive, taking your mind away from the games for a brief instance of relaxation. Being pretty much cuddled into Johanna, she was all you could think about, as she often was. Occasionally, you would wonder if you made your feelings for her obvious, and of course wanted to know if there was any chance she felt the same, no matter the complications it would bring.

"We should get back," the redhead whispered, the soft, smoothness of her words enveloping your ear, cushioning it, steadily releasing you from her grasp.

"You're right, I'm starting to feel sleepy, for a change. I don't know what you did Johanna, but you've helped loads. Thank you." The gratitude slipped from your lips while a small hint of blush appeared on your cheeks.

Again, Johanna laughed, retrieving the axe she had set aside, standing up and waiting for you to follow, which you did with great haste. The pair of you sauntered toward the large metallic doors, remaining close to one another with each step, brushing shoulders every now and then.

You grabbed the handle, the metal as chilled as it was earlier. Getting the door for Johanna, opening it wide for her to pass through, she had stopped right in front of it, clutching the training axe, an unreadable, maybe frustrated, expression present.

"And what are you gonna do with that? Bring it back to bed with you?" You joked, finding yourself funny.

"No, silly," She chuckled back, for a second seemingly genuinely amused by you, then to your surprise, the District 7 tribute pivoted sharply and hurled the axe across the training room, the weapon wedging itself into a padded area on the wall. With a new sense of pride in her step, Johanna walked on ahead, exiting.

"Hurry up Y/N!" She called out, nearly halfway down the hallway.

You had been standing frozen in place, still holding the door wide open, processing what had just happened (and figuring out if you were attracted to it). Remains of a dumbfounded look lingered on your face as you caught up to the fiery woman.

Eventually, you and her arrived at your apartment, stood outside your room. She didn't have to come all that way with you, in fact, getting off the elevator two floors earlier was quite an inconvenience, but, there she was, right in front of you.

"I appreciate you walking me here," You mumbled, the words barely audible - wanting to show your gratitude, though, you ended up making yourself visibly flustered.

Johanna hummed, lifting her line of sight to lock eyes with you. She had no issue holding eye contact, her gaze intense while she stared you down, a certain something glimmering inside the organs. On the other hand, you struggled, not bearing the same confidence she had. Everything began to feel quite tense, gulping at the sensation of blood rushing to your ears and your cheeks, listening while your heart gradually picked up pace, quickening, slamming recklessly against your rib cage.

She looked like it was taking every bit of her strength to hold back, to not give in to the urges suffocating her senses. You looked desperate. Both of you refused to let the moment end, craving something from one another, neither willing to do anything about it.

Your mouth twitched, about to speak. Nothing aside from a small stutter came out, Johanna's eyes widened for a split second, like she was begging you to talk.

"Goodnight, Johanna." You uttered, offering a smile because you knew that the pair of you were hoping for much more.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

Disappointment flashed over her and you felt just as gloomy. Those minutes between you loomed over your mind while you settled back into bed, different outcomes and things you could've said and done occupying your thoughts. At Least the drama of romance kept the nightmares away for the rest of the night, you slept better than ever, drifting off thinking of Johanna.

Rejection held you back. Fear held her back.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

And There Was Only One Bed… - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word Count - 3.5k

Content Warning - Swearing, alcohol mention, unprotected sex, oral sex, vaginal sex

Synopsis - The reader and Daniel Ricciardo are forced to share a hotel room after mix up, or so it seems…

Author’s Note - Well, I intended to write something short and sweet and then this happened… It’s been a while since I last posted, had been in a bit of a writing funk again, but now I’m back on my bullshit for however long this lasts. The whole ‘and there was only one bed’ trope has always been one of my favourites so I felt that I had to pay homage to it in some way, after all, it’s a classic! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

And please enjoy the alternate title I gave this one - ‘No Hetero’ I scrapped it for something more on the nose, but this was the working title and is what the document is still called.

“Why do we have to share a room again?” Daniel asks as he throws his suitcase onto the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Because none of the guys wanted to, apparently the powers of saying ‘no homo’ before doing something gay doesn’t cover sharing a bed with a work colleague.” You respond, your frustration evident in your voice despite the chuckle you forced out at the end of your utterance.

You’d worked with McLaren for a few years now, and as soon as he joined the team immediately clicked with one Daniel Ricciardo. You had the same sense of humour, the same crazy work ethic and had somehow discovered you also had the same taste in crappy 80s movies. He trusted you, more than most, and so you ended up spending a lot of time together both in the paddock and out of it. But sharing a room was something you’d never done before, nevermind sharing a bed.

“Don’t they know it’s only gay if your feet touch? They should just wear socks, simple.” Daniel responds, throwing himself onto the white sheets in the same manner as he had his suitcase.

“Are you gonna wear socks in bed? The thought of your be-socked feet brushing up against my own makes me want to dry heave, however, the possibility of your bare feet doing the same also makes me want to barf.” You laugh, before taking a seat beside Daniel on the bed, and kicking his suitcase off onto the floor with a loud bang.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my feet, I have nice feet!” He exclaims, feigning being hurt as he playfully jabs you in the shoulder.

“Feet just gross me out in general, people who wear sandals in public places should be thrown into a volcano or something.” You say, shoving his shoulder back in retaliation.

“So what’s the alternative? Socks and sandals? Nah mate fuck that.” He laughs.

“So you don’t dig my crocs and socks look?” You exclaim, sitting up in faux shock.

“It’s not one of your best.” He laughs, and you chuckle along as you fall back into the fluffy pillows. “Can’t believe they cocked up the whole hotel thing. You’d think by now they’d know how many rooms to book.”

“Yeah, you’d think. Still, it means I get to bug you all weekend by walking around barefoot. Might clean between my toes with your toothbrush too while you’re not looking.” He teases, offering you a cheeky wink.

“Daniel Ricciardo don’t you even fucking dare go anywhere near my toothbrush! Is it too late to switch bedroom buddies?” You exclaim, and Daniel looks at you, a look of hurt on his face, before the two of you collapse into fits of laughter.

“You could always go knock on Lando’s door if you’re that desperate to be rid of me.”

“Oh, yeah, as if sharing a bed with him would be any less of a nightmare. I bet he’s a real duvet hog.” You laugh.

“He is, believe me.” Daniel responds, smirking at you.

“Oh, had a few cozy nights with Mr. Norris have we?” You giggle.

“A couple. And believe me he is a cuddler, much like myself.” “If I wake up and you’re wrapped around me like some kind of Aussie boa constrictor I will not hesitate to kick you.” You respond, raising your eyebrows at him.

“As long as our bare feet don’t touch it’s still covered under no hetero rules, right?”

“Not sure there’s such a thing as no hetero, but sure, I guess.” You respond.

“Then I’m gonna spoon you so hard your eyes pop out of your fucking head.”

“Your mind terrifies me.” You respond, chuckling at him.

“But you still love me.” Daniel responds, reaching across the bed to pull you into a tight hug. You fight to set yourself free but eventually give in, allowing him to envelop you in a bone-crushing hug.

“For some unknown fucking reason, yeah, I do.” You wheeze, and he lets go of you.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He says, before flopping his arms out onto the bed to assume a full starfish position.

The two of you return to your hotel room a few hours later. The sun has long since set and the moonlight blazes in through the glass of the balcony windows. You slip off your heels by the door and steady yourself against the wall.

The evening’s celebrations had ended with everyone heading to some random club and getting very drunk, and the two of you were no exception. You made sure to limit yourself, knowing that it was likely you’d have to carry Daniel back to the room after having a few too many and look after him if the vomit fairy came to bless him in the night.

However, unlike most of your hotel stays together, you wouldn’t be dropping him off and disappearing, leaving a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the bedside table for the following morning. Instead, you were to be climbing beneath the sheets with him, and waking up beside him as the sun streams in through the curtains.

Another thing that had surprised you was how restrained he too had been in his alcohol consumption. He had matched you drink for drink, and so, while both of you were slightly tipsy, your inhibitions lowered considerably, neither of you were blackout drunk.

“You want me to look away while you change? I promise I wont sneak a peek.” He says as he discards his own shoes beside yours.

“As long as you promise not to look.” You say, rifling through your suitcase to find your night dress and make-up remover.

“I swear on my life I won’t look.” He says, before throwing himself face down on the bed.

You unfasten the back of your high-necked dress and reach the zip, which you attempt to pull down but to no avail.

“Fuck” You mutter under your breath as you repeatedly tug at the zipper, willing it to obey you.

“You alright there?” Daniel asks, his voice slightly muffled by the sheets.

“I can’t believe I’m about to ask you this, but, can you help me with my zipper? The fucking thing is stuck.” You say, sighing slightly.

“I’m always happy to help a friend in need. Can I look now?” He says into the sheets.

“Yeah, you won’t be able to do it with your face in the duvet, will ya?” You chuckle as you take a seat on the bed in front of him.

Daniel sits up and shuffles across the bed towards you on his knees, placing one hand on your shoulder to hold the material in its place while the other fights with the zipper. He gives it a rough tug and the metal teeth finally begin to part, exposing the soft skin of your back and the clasp of your bra strap.

“He was a tough bastard, I’ll give him that. Though I am yet to meet a zipper on a woman’s dress that I haven’t been able to defeat.” Daniel responds, his hand still firmly planted on your shoulder.

“Ha ha, I get it, you’ve shagged a load of girls.” You say sarcastically, turning your head to face him, not realising just how close his own head was to the back of yours until your cheeks graze one another.

“Bet you’re glad we’re sharing a room now, or you’d have been stuck in that dress all night.” He says, his voice low.

“Eh, I would have gone to ask Lando.” You say, turning your body to sit facing him on the bed. Daniel’s hand falls from your shoulder to rest gently on your waist.

“Not me?” He asks, his thumb beginning to rub soft circles on your hip over the material of your dress.

“Nah, I feel like you’d probably make some stupid joke about how many girls you’d fucked.” You say, chuckling slightly at your own remark.

“Touché” He replies as he begins to move his hand further down, settling at the point where the slit in your dress ends above your exposed thigh.

“Considering you started the job, it only makes sense that you finish it.” You say, grabbing Daniel’s hands in your own and guiding them to the neckline of the dress. They settle against the material and he begins to pull the dress down off of your shoulders, exposing your chest.

“I did promise that I wouldn’t look at you while you changed.” He says, yet his eyes refuse to leave your body, taking in every inch of your skin.

“Yeah, well, promises are made to be broken, right?” You say, raising your eyebrows at him.

You take his hands in your again and guide them around your chest, settling them against the clasp of your bra. His fingers make quick work of the metal, and you shrug yourself out of the Lacey garment before throwing it onto the floor.

Daniel’s eyes meet with yours, and he gulps loudly. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting something like this to happen between the two of you. You offer him a small smile, and nod to give him permission, and his hands immediately make contact with the soft skin of your breasts.

You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands seek to explore every inch of your skin. His hands reach around your back, pulling you even closer as he dips below the draping fabric of your dress to grab your ass.

“Would you like me to help you get undressed too?” You ask him, pulling away to allow your hands to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

“By all means” he responds, and you begin to fumble with the buttons, separating them one by one to gradually expose his toned chest.

His shirt quickly joins your bra in the pile of clothing on the floor, and you rake your nails down his torso, reaching the waistband of his dress pants. He groans as your hand dips beneath the fabric, caressing his already hardening cock beneath his underwear.

You pull away, standing up from the bed to allow the material of your dress to cascade to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Daniel looks you up and down, his cock twitching at the very sight of you.

“Your turn” You say, and Daniel stands from his position on the bed. You wrap your arms around his bare shoulders and press soft kisses to his jawline. He removes his dress pants and underwear allowing his cock to spring free.

“Maybe we should have shared a room before now?” He whispers in your ear, and you chuckle.

“Yeah, maybe.” You respond, his eyes making contact with yours before pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was messy as Daniel sought to explore every area of your mouth with his tongue. He tasted sweet, like the cocktails the two of you had been sipping together that evening - just the way you had always imagined him to taste.

Despite trying to deny it, you had often thought to yourself what kissing Daniel would be like. Sometimes your mind would wander at the most random of moments to thoughts of the two of you intertwined in a moment of passion and lust. You had kept it under wraps, of course. You assumed it was just the effect that he had on women, that most of the other ladies in the paddock had also thought the same as you. However, right now, in this very moment, you were the one to be able to experience the real thing. And it was even better than you could have possibly imagined.

Daniel pulls away for air, and the two of you are left panting as your eyes meet once again, a million thoughts and feelings clouding your mind as you wonder what exactly should happen next. However, Daniel takes charge, grabbing you by your hips and throwing you down onto the soft sheets of the bed.

You can’t help but giggle as he kneels down before you on the floor, his grip on your hips becoming firmer as he pulls you in towards his face. He sits there for a moment, his head between your legs, his hands travelling up and down the sides of your body, making every single spot light up at his touch.

“You know I’ve thought about doing this every day since we met.” He says into you, his nose brushing gently against your clit making you squirm on the bed. His hot breath on your cunt only making you wetter, and more desperate for him to touch you where you so desperately needed him to.

“I wanted to have you. To taste you for myself since the day I first laid eyes on you. If you’d given me the chance I would have eaten you out right on the fucking conference room table for everyone to watch.” He says in a low voice, his lips edging ever closer to your dripping folds.

“Then why didn’t you? I’m sure we could have put on quite the show.” You respond, your back arching up off of the bed as you involuntarily buck your hips into his face.

“I had to make sure this was something you wanted too. And I didn’t want you to think I was just some sleazy driver who fucks his way through the team. But then-“ He says, pausing as he slides a finger across your folds, toying with your hole before gently sliding his finger inside. You moan at the sudden contact, the sensation of his thick finger filling you up driving you crazy.

“What?” You manage to say in a breathy voice as you fight to keep control of yourself, despite the sensation of a second finger sliding inside of you sending you into delirium.

“I couldn’t gauge how you felt about me, so I had to take matters into my own hands” Daniel says, as his thumb moves up to rub your clit gently. Your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sheets below you for dear life as your body floods with electricity.

“Y-you changed the bookings.” You manage to utter between breathy moans and whines.

“Aren’t you glad I did, babygirl?” He asks, and you nod, unable to even form words due to the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Say the word, babygirl. Don’t you want me to use my mouth on that pretty cunt of yours?” He asks, and you can practically feel his smirk against your bare flesh.

“God, fuck, Daniel yes.” You moan, easily loud enough for those in the neighbouring rooms to hear, but you didn’t care. In that moment, all you wanted was for Daniel to claim your cunt with his tongue.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He says, before removing his thumb from your clit, providing the pressure instead with his tongue while continuing to curl his fingers inside of you.

You instinctively find yourself squeezing your thighs together around his head, seeking to push him deeper and further into you. He grips your soft flesh with his spare hand hard enough to leave a bruise on your thigh as he tries to keep your legs open, allowing him easier access to lick and suck at your clit.

Your hands find his hair, and grip onto his soft curls as you feel yourself edging closer and closer to your climax. The sensation of his fingers inside you, and his tongue on your clit quickly brings you to your undoing, your back arching up off of the bed as you cum on his fingers.

Daniel removes his fingers from your cunt and sucks them both clean, before returning to his position and cleaning you up with his tongue.

“You’re fucking delicious” He says against you, the vibrations of his words against your flesh making you moan in response.

You sit up on the bed, leaning down towards his kneeling position on the floor before you. You run your hand across his cheek, along his jawline and stop below his chin, before pulling his head up to meet yours in a lust-filled kiss.

“I don’t know if I wanna taste you more, of if I want you to fuck me more?” You say as you pull away, your breathing still heavy, breaths short.

“You can suck me off whenever you want, but right now I’m gonna fuck you on our bed.” Daniel responds, standing from his knelt position to tower over you.

You lie back on the sheets and cant help but smirk at Daniel as you raise your finger to beckon him towards you. He follows your every movement, his body hovering above you, his face inches from yours and his cock gently grazing your tender folds.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he enters you with a groan, his body tensing as he does so. Despite having already noted his size, and having earlier been stretched by his fingers, the sensation of him inside you, filling you up pulls a deep moan from within you.

“Fuck, Daniel” You say, your voice barely above a whisper as it is all you could possibly muster.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” He says, looking down at you. The tip of his nose brushes your own and you cant help but let out a euphoric laugh at his words.

Looking up at him in that moment, his face sweaty and flushed red, his pupils blown and curly dark hair plastered to his forehead, you’re sure you’ve never seen such a beautiful sight in all your years of living.

“And you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. Even if you are rather devious” You say, eliciting a cheeky smile from Daniel.

As he begins to thrust into you, your grip on his shoulder blades becomes more intense as the sensation within you builds and builds. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and you find yourselves moving together in perfect harmony, your hips rising from the soft sheets as he pushes deeper into your cunt.

You’re certain that no one has ever fucked you like this before. The feeling of euphoria building within you as he fills you up again and again with his cock is something other men would have only dreamed of giving you. In that moment, all you could think of was Daniel - he was all that mattered. The entire world could disappear and you wouldn’t give a fuck, because what was happening in your hotel room was the only thing on your mind. Your brain took his name like a mantra, repeating it over and over again, its volume building as you edged closer to your second orgasm of the night.

As you feel your orgasm building you realise that your internal mantra was being vocalised by yourself, his name dripping off of your tongue with his every movement. His eyes made contact with yours as you looked up at him, moans and grunts leaking from his open mouth, and becoming more and more vocal as he reaches his own undoing.

“Mmm, fuck!” He moans, before cumming inside you. The sensation of Daniel filling you up with his seed causing you to achieve your own end.

Your repetition of his name trails off to barely a whisper, your voice hoarse from moaning and yelling his name as he fucked you.

Daniel collapses on top of you, his arms no longer strong enough to bear his own weight as his orgasm rushes through his body. He pulls out of you and wraps his arms around you, pressing every inch your hot clammy skin to his own.

“You did say you were gonna spoon me till my eyes popped out of my head.” You say, holding his hands that sit across your chest with your own.

“And our feet didn’t touch. No hetero?” He asks, and you giggle turning to look up at him with a smile on your face.

“I really, really don’t think no hetero is a thing.” You laugh as you caress his hand with your thumb.

Daniel reaches past you to grab the sheets from the opposite side of the bed, before wrapping them around the two of you as you both fall asleep together in your shared bed.

[yesssireeee]

Taixu IS an orv fan song (very rough sorry everyone)

(taixu by Lasah and Sasakure.UK)

Ok so like TAIXU HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD AND NOT A GOOD ONE A PAINFUL ONE IT'S SO PAINFUL BUT AT THE SAME TIME I'M OBSESSED???? LIKE IF I THINK OF IT AS AN ORV REFERENCE - WHICH BTW IT TOTALLY IS - I MEAN IF YOU KNOW THE LORE YOU CAN'T TELL ME IT'S A WALKING ORB REFERENCE LIKE THIS FR COULD BE A FAN SONG-

AND MY EVIDENCE FOR THIS IS FIRST OF ALL THE WHITE CROW GOING "You need to wind the world, until the end" LIKE ISN'T THIS BASICALLY OLDEST DREAM (KDJ) HE CHOSE TO STAY IN THE SUBWAY BECAUSE HE NEEDS TO MAKE SURE HIS WORLD GETS "The end" AND HE'S THE ONE WHO HAVE YJH THE ABILITY TO WELL UNWIND THE WORLD RIGHT?? HE TAKES IT AS HIS RESPONSIBILITY BECAUSE HE WANTS TO SEE THE EPILOGUE FOR HIS FAVOURITE NOVEL - WHAT SAVED HIM - BUT HE CAN'T SEE HIMSELF IN IT-

SECONDLY, THE WHOLE "The first end came so suddenly you couldn't say goodbye to me.

The tenth end came with agony, I thought that we were meant to be.

The hundredth end was simply just an apathetic day for me.

The thousandth end was ecstasy, the people begged for me to bleed."

LIKE IF THIS DOESN'T SCREAM YJH LITERALLY WHAT DOES???? IT TOTALLY REPRESENTS HIS REGRESSION DEPRESSION THAT WAS MENTIONED SO DEEPLY IN THE NOVEL LIKE THIS IS LITERALLY HIM- AND THE WHOLE "couldn't say goodbye" IS LIKE HOW HE sSACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SEE KDJ BUT DOESN'T GET TO SEE HIM UNTIL MANY REGRESSIONS LATER WHEN HE HAS FORGOTTEN WHO KDJ IS AND WHY HE EVEN STARTED HIS JOURNEY (Thouvht ig that's kdj's fault) ALSO HOW HE BECOMES APATHETIC TOWARDS DEATH AND KILLING HIS COMPANIONS FOR THE GREATER GOOD LIKE??? AND ALSO THE WAY IT WAS ECSTASY BECAUSE PEOPPE BEGGED FOR THEM TO BLEED I CAN ABSOLUTELY SEE THAT APPLIES TO YJH ESPECIALLY DURING THE 1863 ARC WHERE HE SACRIFICES HIMSELF- ALSO HOW HE CLAIMS TO HAVE GROWN APATHETIC TO KILLING HIS COMPANIONS WE KNOW YJH ISN'T COMPLETELY AND HE STILL SUFFERS-

OK THEN THERE IS "Remember when I used to be you?" LIKE???? THIS IS LITERALLY 49% 51% KDJ THIS IS SO 49% 51% KDJ LIKE THIS LITERALLY IS ABOUT - HOW KDJ WATCHES THE (Almost) OTHER HALF OF HIM LIVE OUT WHAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE HIS LIFE HAPPILY WITH HIS COMPANIONS- THIS IS LITERALLY OD WATCHING THE OTHER KDJ AND LONGING FOR BEING WITH HIS COMPANIONS AGAIN?????

THEN THERE IS "Unwind the world and your nightmare's gone" SO LIKE OBVIOUSLY THIS FITS YJH???? LIKE IS THERE EVEN A QUESTIONS ABOUT IT?? IT BASICALLY REPRESENTS HOW WHEN THE WORLD GETS TOO BAD HE RESETS TO "SAVE IT" AND SAVE HIS COMPANIONS AND REACH THE END (Tho he has already reached that end but that little ungrateful mf--) I LITERALLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THEY LITERALLY AREN'T TALKING ABOUT KDJ

THEN THERE IS "No, I can't leave the world by itself it needs me until the end" SCREAMS LITERALLY WITH BOLD LETTERS ON A BILLBOARD ON *MUTIPLE* BILLBOARDS OD AND KDJ- LIKE THE WHOLE "THE END" THING IS LITERALLY A KDJ REFERENCE AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND BECAUSE HIS "◼️◼️" IS PRETTY MUCH "The end" OR COULD ALSO BE "Eternity" PLUS LIKE THE WHOLE KDJ SUFFERING ALONE JUST TO SEE THE ENDING FOR HIS FAVOURITE NOVEK THAT'S LITERALLY A QUOTE RIGHT OF THE NOVEL AND YOU. CAN'T. CHANGE. MY. MIND.

"Remember when we used to be 2" OKOK LISTEN TO ME THIS IS SO OBVIOUSLY 49 51 KDJ OBVIOUSLY SO SO OBVIOUSLY I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT BUT WHY CAN I KINDA SEE THIS BEING YJH AND SP TOO??? LIKE SP THINKING ABOUT HOW YJH ISN'T "Him" AND HOW HE WILL NEVER BE THE YJH THAT IS KDJ'S COMPANION BUT THAT'S KINDA A STRETCH IK BUT LIKE OBVIOUSLY THIS IS 49 51 I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT

THEN THERE IS THE BLACK CROW THAT COMES ALONG "you're not chosen to wind the world, wait for the end" I'M GOING TO GET INTO THIS A LOT MORE LATER WHEN I COMPARE THE LAST LINES BUT DOESN'T THIS KINDS SCREAM YJH TO KDJ?? OR JUST KIMCOM IN GENERAL I COULD TOTALLY SEE THIS BEING HSY OR JHW YK MINUS THE IDIOT BC OF COURSE THEY WOULD SAY IDIOT BUT LIKE THIS BEING KIMCOM TRYING TO GET TO KDJ TRYING TO CONVINCE HIM THAT HE IS NEEDED FOR THE EPILOGUE

THEN THERE IS "The hundreds the and millions are depending on what I believe."

THIS COULD VERY EASILY BE HSY OR YJH- LIKE HSY OBVIOUSLY CHOOSING THE WRITE THE NOVEL AND PRETTY MUCH CHOOSING HIGHSCHOOL KDJ OVER IDK YK *THE WORLD⁉️⁉️* LIKE SHE REALLY BE LIKE PRIORITIES IG AND THEN VERY OBVIOUSLY YJH BECAUSE HE'S THE PROTAGONIST THE "Hero" AND HIS CHOICES AFFECT ALL OF THOSE LIVES BECAUSE HE'S THE STRONGEST THEY DEPEND ON HIM AND WHAT HE BELIEVES WHICH IS WHY SYS HATES HIM SO MUCH FOR HIS CHOICES BUT CAN'T STOP RESPECTING HIM- THERE IS ALSO WHEN YJH DECIDED TO RESET THE HAPPY ENDING THAT KDJ WORKED SO HARD TO GET FOR HIM BUT THREW IT ALL AWAY FROM KDJ HIMSELF

"I buried him so deeply with the words that always haunted me.

His eyes reminded someone who I used to long and grieve."

THIS IS LITERALLY YJH. LIKE HOW HE SUFFERS THROUGH SO MUCH JUST FOR KDJ JUST TO FORGET WHO HE IS AND HOW MUCH HE MEANS TO HIM- HIM TRYING SO HARD TO GET TO KDJ AND FINALLY GETTING TO HIM AND NOT BEING ABLE TO REALIZE WHAT HE FINALLY GOT BECAUSE HE HAD HAD FORGOTTEN WHAT HIS GOAL WHAT AND WHO IT ALL WAS FOR AND JUST WENT THROUGH THE ENDLESS CYCLE OF REGRESSION AND REGRESSION- TO FINALLY GET TO "The end of the scenarios"

THEN THERE IS "so tell me what's the "end of the world'

The crows were both myself.

Or...

was..

it you?"

AND THIS IS WHERE THE WHOLE THEORY COMES TOGETHER AND I THINK THE WHITE CROW IS SP AND THE BLACK CROW IS YJH OR KIMCOM IG BUT SINCE THE WHITE CROW IS SP I'M GOING TO SAY THE BLACK CROW IS YJH- THIS IS BECAUSE THE WHITE CROW IS THE WHITE CROW IS TRYING TO KDJ (Not actually kdj but yk) TO STAY AND BELIEVE THE WORLD IS UP TO THEM RIGHT?? AND WELL I GUESS I FEEL THE WHITE CROW IS TALKING TO OD SPECIFICALLY AND DOESN'T THAT MAKE PERFECR SENSE FOR SP?? TECHNICALLY WHAT HE WANTS IS KDJ TO BE WITH HIM AND TECHNICALLY HIM BEING IN THE SUBWAY AS OD IS IN HIS FAVOR AND HE WANTS HIM TO STAY THAT WAY YK WITH HIM AND MAKING HIM BELIEVE THAT HE NEEDS TO STAY THERE TO SEE THE END THAT HE LONGS FOR-

AND THE BLACK CROW I'VE ALREADY EXPLAINED THIS BREIFLY BUT YJH (And Kimcom obviously) ARE TRYING TO GET KDJ OUT OF THAT SUBWAY FOR HIM TO BE PART OF THE STORY- THEY NEED HIM TO STOP BELIEVING THAT HE ISN'T NEEDED IN THE STORY AND THAT HE HAS TO BE THERE TO SEE THE END AND SAVE THE WORLD (Or his companions bc I wouldn't say the world per se is his priority) SO TELLING HIM THAT HE WASN'T MEANT TO WIND THE WORLD AND THAT HE SHOULD "Wait for the end" WOULD BE LIKE TELLING HIM THAT HE NEEDS TO SEE THROUGH THE END WITH THE REST OF THEM AND LIVE THROUGH THE REST OF THEIR LIVES TOGETHER

AND THEN THERE IS "both the crows were myself.

Or...

Was...

It you"

THIS FITS MY THEORY SO SO SO WELL BECAUSE THE "The crows were me" COULD BE LIKE OD HALLUCINATING AND IMAGINING HIS COMPANIONS (More specifically yjh) DUE TO HIS LONELINESS- I MEAN HE IS CALLED THE OLDEST DREAM BECAUSE OF A "DREAM" SO IT COULD BE OD TRYING TO CONVICE HIMSELF IT WAS ALL HALLUCINATIONS OR THAT HE WAS IMAGINING IT BUT THEN THE "Or was it you" IS SO PERFECT FOR THR CROWS BEING YJH AND SP I DON'T THINK I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO EXPLAIN WHY- I also just want to mention as a quick addition to why so and yjh as the crows was so good bc I compared the *white* crow to sp who is known for his white coat and the black crow to yjh who is obviously known for his *black* coat which is

So to sum this up TAIXU IS LITERALLY AN ORV FAN SONG AND THE WHITE CROW IS SP THE BLACK CROW IS YJH AND IT CYCLES KDJ AND YJH POV THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SONG.

If you're as insane about this goobers please say something 🙏🙏🙏

[the-remarkable-redway-simp]

1000 words of simping over Redway? I am all ears. (Please spend some of those words on his hair? Pretty Please?)

First off: anon, ILY

Secondly: I DM'd the author to find out their preferred method of citation and they said APA so, behold, my masterpiece:

Simping for Redway: an essay of slightly less than 1000 words

E.M. Anderson, the writer of THE REMARKABLE RETIREMENT OF EDNA FISHER alleges that Redway, the villain of said novel, is not meant to be simped for. I dispute that and allege that while it may not have been the author's intention, the text supports that he is simpable. In this essay I will provide cited sources from the text of the book that will prove he is indeed simpable.

(Goes without saying, now, but SPOILERS FOR THE REMARKABLE RETIREMENT OF EDNA FISHER BELOW, PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

First, anon asked for me to go on about his hair, so I will. I’ll dedicate this paragraph to appearance in general, actually, since E.M. also stubbornly insists they didn’t intend for him to be attractive. However, I would contend that anyone who is described as having “reddish hair, shot through with silver… pulled into a short ponytail.” (Anderson, p. 294) is, objectively speaking, at least a little bit attractive. Now, I have to admit I have a liking for red hair, to the point where I spent an inadvisable amount of money on dyeing my hair red between the years of 2015 and 2017, to the point where my nickname those years was, in fact, Red. Because apparently the most defining aspect of my personality was my hair. Now the most defining aspect of my personality might be my simping for Redway, to the point where I’m spending my Sunday night writing an essay about simping for Redway. Maybe I should’ve just dyed my hair again, might’ve been a smarter choice, but anyway, to carry on: while I will admit that having a weakness for red hair prejudices me toward simping for him, which is why I will carry on with further evidence of why Redway is lowkey hot. In the very first scene he’s seen in, he is described as having “blue eyes that were unfairly piercing” (Anderson, p. 37). The author even goes as far as to say “humans weren’t supposed to have such eyes” (Anderson, p. 37). It is therefore my contention that it is entirely understandable that Redway is objectively good-looking.

However, lest I be accused of being shallow, I will move into my real reason for simping: this man is incredibly secretly soft. I would allege that E.M. Anderson is incapable of writing a character who isn’t, on some level, incredibly secretly soft, but since I don’t have time for a rundown of every character in every published and unpublished work they’ve written, I’ll focus on Redway. For example, he raised his favourite dragon, Copernicus, from an egg, and no matter how cranky he gets he has a soft spot for that dragon, even allowing him to lay with “his massive head in Red's lap” (Anderson, p. 143). What’s cuter and more simpable than someone who loves animals? I, for one, am a cat person, and dragons in this book are basically massive cats. Who hasn’t had their cat lay on their lap and refuse to move regardless of what you want, truly.

Now, you may be asking, what else is so cute about this guy besides the dragon thing? Maybe you hate animals and feel like he’d be more simpable if he did too (in which case, are you okay?). Well, he’s also an anxious babygirl who needs snuggles to sleep; after a nightmare, while sharing a bed with another character (Shira, who is honestly worthy of her own essay), he “curled around her athletic form, burying his face in her curls” (Anderson, p. 140). I mean, come on, he’s so sad and anxious! And that’s not even going into the deep spoiler territory of why he’s so anxious, although I will say that ties back into how he loves dragons, and honestly if E.M. didn’t intend for people to simp for him they really shouldn’t have given him such a sad backstory, so that’s on them, really.

He's also useful! How many men do you know who help with chores, but Red can not only carve “rooms and hallways into (the mountain) by magic” (Anderson, p. 40), he also peels potatoes with magic. He might be a villain, but hey, at least he doesn’t do the whole weaponized incompetence thing to make women do all the work for him. 

There is a lot more I could say, but I already spoiler-warning-ed once, and anything more I can say would go into ruining-the-ending territory, which I don’t feel comfortable doing until the book is out for at least a year because that ending really hits you right in the feels if you don’t see it coming. 

To conclude, I allege based on both appearance and pathetic anxiety levels, Redway is objectively simpable and that should be accepted by more people.

Works Cited

Anderson, E.M. (2023). The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher. Hansen House. Kindle Edition.

[timeturner-jay]

Timeturner-jay, thank you for your kind and detailed comments on An Unadmitted Defeat !!! The reason I haven't replied directly to your message is because I want to keep it in my inbox forever!!! Journey to the West and Lotus Lantern hold a special place in my heart and I love these wild and fun and volatile and lively characters that amplify things we're so familiar with - familial disputes, friendship, betrayal - into a cosmic, mythological scale. It's been a while since I could work on any of my fics, but this one is on extended hiatus. Though it really is another one of the many retellings of Lotus Lantern, one that focuses on Sun Wukong and Chen Xiang's relationship and training time. The core of the story is there, and the next part is up to Chen Xiang to save his mother :) I really wonder if Light Chaser studios or another animation crew is going to pick up something Lotus Lantern related soon. Thanks again, I'm so glad you could read this work and find joy and inspiration. I'll always be into JTTW and LL.

Awww, I'm really happy that my comments mean that much to you! :D You deserve them though - your writing is so heartfelt and lovely, and I haven't stopped thinking about it!

Fun fact, I'm re-reading chapter 9 of An Un-Admitted Defeat right now because I miss Sun Wukong and Chen Xiang's Sifu-Túdì relationship so much. :') That chapter was my favourite - Wukong just cares so much about this kid! And he teaches him so much more than just fighting. He teaches him how to read and write, how to listen to nature and recognise its creatures from sound alone, how to give aura to others and how to use it to create wards, how to play Go... And he also makes sure that this kid gets to have a proper childhood. 😭 He shows him how to do the perfect cannonball into the pond, he shares sweets with him, ropes him into a cricket fight, lets him play and make friends with the monkeys - and if he can present a lesson or a training exercise as a game instead, he does. He sees this kid who is so jaded and hurt and determined and traumatised and far far too filled with hatred for his young age, and he helps him be a child again and watches over him and soothes his nightmares, and I'm just so emotional over it. 😭 There's nothing he wouldn't do for that boy.

He'd even throw away his hard-won peace and fight Heaven all over again just to keep him safe, evidently. :')

I just care about them so much. The way you write them and their relationship is everything to me!

Hey guys! Go read An Un-Admitted Defeat please, it's really good and it owns my whole heart and I'll never be over the cliffhanger it left off on! 🙏

[jolieblack]

Jolie's thoughts on

The Illustrious Client (Sherlock & Co. Podcast)

(Here’s me gushing about the whole show in general, in case you don’t know it yet.)

OK so I've been an avid listener of true crime podcasts for years, and I just love how this one makes fun of all their usual trappings like the tacky advertising, and how it raises that forever unanswered question how far exactly you can go in using other people's worst nightmares for entertainment.

I wouldn't have expected this case to be the one to kick off Sherlock and John's collaboration, but boy those themes are still relevant today, and as haunting as they ever were.

Also, what a genius way of getting them the capital to start their company. Mariana going from "I‘m calling the police on you creeps" to practically being part of the family in less than 24 hours is so lovable, too. She is a true Mrs Hudson for the 21st century.

And did we just see Sherlock swallow all his pride and professional principles just so John can earn enough money to stay and solve crimes with him? In their very first case together? It doesn’t get any sweeter, or more telling.

More stuff I loved in this episode:

"He solves complex cases because he‘s a complex person." - If this isn’t Sherlock Holmes in a nutshell, I don’t know what is. Well done, Mr Emory.

"Unless you plan to challenge him to a duel - "

"Who played who in the what?" - Thank you, I relate so hard.

"The vice grip closes on the baron." - "Well, the vice grip can’t use his thumb for two weeks." (Can I just mention that Sherlock letting himself get beaten up without batting an eyelid in order to gather useful evidence about the bad guy is like all my favourite whump / H/C fanfic scenarios come to life? Thank you Mr Emery, you make me a very happy fangirl indeed.)

"Your socks are pathetic."

Sherlock telling John he's being childish for NOT wanting to play the hot/cold game.

And a special shoutout to Harry Attwell (or the editing team, who knows), for delaying for that one special extra second after John says "So he's going to kill again?" - " - - - Boiling." That's the difference between predictable theatrics and actually brilliant audio drama.

Can't wait to share my thoughts on the next episode!

[hebimoonlightwrites]

hi hebi !!! hope you’re doing good on your exams 🩷🩷

how are you doing ?? 🥰

soo can i request an argument scenario with Yohei ?? with angst/comfort plsss ? 🥹

i’ll leave the context up to your creativity ! ❤️

oh and if you don’t feel comfortable to make this scenario don’t push yourself ! just tell me 🫶

Writer's corner: Hey, sweetheart! Of course you can request about it! Thank you for your kindness. Please, let me know if there's anything you want me to change or fix! Enjoy~♥

mc's pronouns: GN! THEY/THEM

Words: 1084

Warnings: angst/comfort!

⭐"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞"⭐

"TSUBAKI-SAN!!"

Yohei yelled in the middle of the night, suddenly sitting on the bed and opening his eyes widely after the umpteenth nightmare of the week. His golden eyes got lost and the darkness of the room was interrupted by a single line of light coming from outside. He let his hand running through his sweaty hair, as some slight sobs and heavy breaths let his throat, his heart pounding just like during a marathon. And he couldn't do anything else, but lighting up another cigarette while trying to calm himself down, looking outside the balcony. 

The following day Yohei looked even more lost in his own thoughts. It seemed that he was completely in another world, while everyone around him was having their own conversations and lives. Mc, who was also his partner, was sitting at the Bar 4/7's counter, drinking their favourite cocktail while smiling at Yohei, who was working as a bartender. Even if smiling, though, mc had already understood that there was something strange in Yohei's behaviour. He looked different, completely lost in his own thoughts, even if occasionally he gave them a soft and cute smile while preparing cocktails to other customers. Well.. He wasn't happy and it was evident. Even his movements looked quite mechanical, like if he wasn't thinking while moving but doing it instinctively. The Bar was quite full of customers and even Naoakira, Ryu and Shiki looked very busy to serve them all. Even if crowdy, though, everyone seemed to enjoy the drinks and the bar's atmosphere. Mc, however, couldn't stop to look with a worried expression at the love of their life. "Maybe it's because the bar is full?..", they thought to themselves, their eyes getting lost in thoughts. 

Those thoughts, however, soon got interrupted by a sudden noise. Mc turned around only to see Yohei arguing with Naoakira. Yohei had just pushed him and slammed the front door, exiting the bar in an aggressive and furious way. Naoakira looked very sad but even exhausted and nostalgic. Mc immediately stood up and got closer to the bar's owner, while his eyes were sparkling and slightly teary. "Naoakira! What's happened? Are you okay?". The man sighed but didn't answer mc, he simply turned around and spoke to the customers, saying that everything was fine and that there wasn't anything to be worried about. In the meantime, though, Mc's eyes were still following Yohei, who was walking outside the bar. They soon walked out, following him as well. Their worried expression still present on their face as they finally managed to stop him, by grabbing his jacket's sleeve: "Y-Yohei!... L-Love.. what happened?"

Yohei's eyes were teary and his expression was quite angry as well. He instinctively pinned mc against the wall, his golden eyes sparkling due to tears, his lips curled in a painful expression. He looked very angry and nervous: "Don't bother me, mc!! Stop pissing me off!! Leave me alone!!". At those words, mc let out a soft gasp in surprise before seeing him slowly loosening the grip on their body and moving away from them. Yohei started walking away but mc ran towards him, grabbing his jacket's sleeve again: "Yohei! I.. I simply want to help you feel better! I'm your partner, after all! I care about you! Just tell me what happened, god damn it!!". In response the man turned around and grabbed their wrists, pulling them closer to him. His golden eyes were still piercing and sparkling, some silent tears were falling down his cheeks as he spoke in a low voice that sounded almost as a whisper: "I don't need your useless help.. Just leave me alone.. Just get lost!!"

At those words mc's eyes opened wide while Yohei's grip on their wrists got loosen completely and he started walking away again, his hair following the wind outside. "Y-Yohei...".. that's what mc could only whisper to themselves, letting some tears falling down their cheeks, bringing their hands to their chest. Was it only them or... it was starting to rain?

Some days passed and Yohei was still in his apartment, thinking about all those nightmares and all those bad words he had said to mc.. He had been such a bastard to them..! His hands ran through his hair as he also stood up from the sofa and looked at the mirror, seeing his sleepless pale face.. his beard growing and being more visible. He scratched his face softly before mumbling to himself: "Damn... I'm such a bastard piece of shit..-!". After that he decided he had to do something.. he had to see mc again and to apologize for mistreating them, even if they only wanted to comfort and help him. While preparing the bathtub to have a bath, his golden eyes got lost in another thought, the image of mc crying with their big puppy confused eyes in front of him.. it made his heart crack. He had to apologize. "They maybe don't want to see me again, but.. I have to say sorry.", he mumbled and then decided to have a bath and to get dressed. His beard shaved and his clothes full of perfume.. his hair fixed and soft at the touch. He was about to leave the apartment. His hand was almost touching the entrance door handle when suddenly the doorbell rang. He looked surprised but he softly and slowly opened the door.

"Mc..? What are you doing here..?", Yohei's voice sounded almost shaky. His eyes  betrayed his usual cold and cool temper. Mc smiled, holding a bunch of roses and a bottle of whiskey, while they entered the apartment with an unusual shy attitude. They felt shy indeed, since they were sure Yohei was still angry at them. Their heart, even if cracked because of those words he had told them, was still beating for him... for the genuine and true love they had for him. They took small steps, feeling an awkward tension in the air: "I'm sorry for bothering, Yohei... Were you about... to hang out?", their voice sounded as a whisper. Suddenly, though, as a response, mc felt Yohei's arms wrapped around their figure, the man pulling them closer in an hug which managed to make their heart skip a beat. His voice sounded genuinely relieved as he kissed their forehead:

"I... I thought you hated me... I.. Mc, I'm sorry.. I would never be able to live without you.. please... don't leave me.. don't leave me alone.. ever, my love..."

©hebimoonlightwrites_tumblr Please, do not copy my contents nor repost it without my permission.

[whattheskyknows]

Kaito for the character meme

First impression - Now that I think about it I'm not sure what my initial thoughts of Kaito were. I think I've always liked him but I don't remember him standing out (also it's been like 4 almost 5 years since I first played so a lot of my initial memories of the game are very hazy)

Impression now - He is one of my favourites because I just find him interesting. I do think he is VERY flawed but he's just one of those characters who I just clicked with and really like

Favourite moment - I liked it when Shuichi and Maki were training and he's just laid on the grass like gUyS lOoK aT tHe StArS

Idea for a story - *stares excitedly at my google doc for the next chapter of 13 Students Remain*

Unpopular opinion - Oh boy. Oh. Boy. I think Kaito's character writing is a bit of a mess. The game made him a somewhat biased. I didn't like how his friendship with Ryoma was handled. Ryoma was clearly struggling and Kaito basically turned his back on him. Meanwhile he saw Shuichi struggling and was like bro you are now my sidekick. I found it a little strange how he would turn his back on the person he literally admitted to looking up to but was more than eager to help a stranger. His standards are also very weird. He finds out Maki is an assassin and is like wow another sidekick. Meanwhile (gonna use Kokichi as an example) Kokichi tells a couple of lies and distasteful jokes and he's like bro that's so fucked up how could you bro /j (This is in reference to chapter 1-3 Kokichi, chapter 4-5 Kokichi is an absolute nightmare and I don't really blame Kaito for hating him during those chapters.) It always felt like plot convenience with how Kaito decided to treat people.

Also??? Him defending Gonta so hard during the end of the fourth trial felt a little strange? I get that believing in people is literally his entire character but??? During every other trial he was like okay I'm gonna believe in the evidence but during that trial he was like Shuichi Bro You Are Wrong. ?????????? If Kaito got his own way then everyone would be dead. I'm pretty sure he also purposefully voted wrong out of spite too. I just think it's not very in character for him to jeopardise the group's safety because he was pissed off at Kokichi. Honestly chapter 4 in my opinion has the weakest character writing all around, it felt like a large majority of the characters felt incredibly out of character. Idk. Him turning his back on Shuichi just??? I don't think it's talked about enough how Kaito literally drops people at a moment's notice if they don't act how he wants them to act anymore. I think the game could've tried to make Kaito a little more consistent. He's allowed to be flawed but at least make the flaws make sense.

I guess what I'm saying that my unpopular opinion of Kaito is that his character is a mess but I do think that comes down to the character writing.

Favourite relationship - I like oumota because it has a lot of potential and because Kaito and Kokichi are literally opposites and I enjoy that sort of trope ahaha. I think I prefer their relationship more in an AU setting since it's very hard to write them being romantically involved in game. (Although the fics that have managed to pull this off are *chef's kiss*)

Favourite headcanon - Kaito actually takes his training very seriously (why does the game make Kaito hype up his training then make him literally not take it seriously bruuuuuuh)

Thanks for the ask!

[lenyul]

To Sir, With Love Episode 6: The psychological horror of family lunches returns

Cai Xiaotong tells Song that Dong’s relative is just pretending. He decides to confront Ma about this by dragging the pretender into an association meeting. This might be an intentional parallel to the first episode. Or maybe there are only so many ways (1 (one)) to drag someone into a meeting. But in the end it’s very he said, he said, she accused, he counter-accused, so it’s all just going in circles.

Well, if you can’t prove other things, try to charge them with tax evasion or other white collar crimes. Like sure, it would be nice to prove that he paid someone to pretend to be a relative, or that he is ordering the murder of people he thinks aren’t corrupt enough. But we only have evidence for embezzlement, so you get what you get and you don’t get upset.

It’s nice of Jia to confirm that these are the corpse mushrooms. Fun fact, after I watched this episode, I ate mushrooms in every meal for 3 days straight. It wasn’t intentional - and largely beyond my control - but the fact that I can still eat them really shows how much I love mushrooms. Unlike Li, who is currently having the worst time of her life. This scene is probably my favourite one so far in the series, I have a huge soft spot for the incredibly dramatic group meals gone horribly wrong. Li’s day keeps getting worse, as  she gets nightmares where Dong haunts her.

But not all is bad in Li’s life! Sure, her son definitely has to get married, and he definitely doesn’t want to. But she looked for an auspicious time, and found one a month and a half away! Surely things can’t fall apart in six weeks!

Chan is on her own here. Her husband says he’ll throw her out without evidence next time something happens. Her son won’t share the secret that could ruin his brother and put himself in a better position. Even Nuan says they should just learn to take the L. It makes sense that she would try to find someone who’s on her side, but she is still providing information that will help Ma kill Tian.

Jia kills the mushrooms with “fermented water”, which I’m sure doesn’t have any other effects, as she would mention them here (wink wink, nudge nudge). It’s a shame she didn’t do this sooner, because now Bua and Yang have some mushrooms and are eager to find out more about them. They only have good intentions, really, they want to find out why Li got sick from eating a tiny bite of the mushroom, when others are perfectly fine. But after literally no one they ask recognises the mushroom, they start to have suspicions that it might be connected to everything else that’s going on.

Tian and Yingpin are informed of the auspicious date, and they immediately oppose it. “Wow, the kids both think the date for the wedding is too soon. This means they are made for each other, and should get married on the next possible auspicious date” is the type of advanced logic that only parents who don’t care about their children’s feelings can pull off. They have a mini-after-meeting with Yang. Nangnoi really shines here, she tells Yang the wedding is the next day, and suggests a pretend-marriage (which I appreciate as someone who watched We Are Gamily at least 4 times, and has been waiting for this suggestion since episode 2). But this gets shot down by Tian, who knows that they would just be pressured for children. Yang promises to interrupt the wedding, and Tian thinks the hets are adorable, which he is very right about.

To prevent Yingpin from being trapped in a loveless marriage, Tian looks for the deed of her house. He almost manages to sneak it out of Li’s room when he gets caught. He then gets reminded that ripping up the deed - while it would be very dramatic, and he would look cool doing it - won’t have any actual legal effect.

The problem with accusing someone of fraud is that you might face some backlash in the form of them putting out a hit on you through your crush. We’ve all been there.

Next time, things get a lot more murdery, but also a lot gayer. It's very much a win-win situation.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar for Our Sins

Chapter 4 // Masterlist

Demon! Billy Russo x Female reader

WARNINGS: Memories of past attempted assault on a minor, talking about the Castle tragedy, nightmares, Billy's sad thoughts right at the beginning, a touch of body insecurity, there's also fluff too, and jokes.

Happy Monday!

Heed my warnings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur Walsh is standing over him.

Billy can barely see through the blurry haze of pain and blood. He tries to move, but he can't. His limbs are heavy and feels weighed down by something. Arthur raises a foot. Billy can see the underside as clear as the first time it happened. The mud and specks of Arthur's and his blood mixed together on the sole- the evidence of their disagreement.

The foot comes down on his shoulder next. Billy hears a loud crunch amongst the ringing in his ear. He's unable to make a sound.

Why bother with screaming anyway? No one is coming to save him. No one ever comes to save him.

And when Arthur smiles down at him, tells him that this is what he deserves- Billy is inclined to believe it.

He wakes up slowly, blinking to clear the haze in his mind. The memories of that night come back to him, as if it had only happened yesterday, and not a hundred years ago. The bathroom of the stadium he'd snuck in, to play inside. He just wanted to wash his face after playing with his friends. Was that so wrong?

The next thing he knows, Arthur is touching his thigh, and everything feels wrong, wrong, wrong-

Billy closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to push away the memories he'd wished he could forget.

The craziest thing was that when the police had asked him how old he was, he couldn't tell them for sure. The last birthday he'd celebrated was when he was eight. So he was around ten at the time? Maybe eleven?

He sucks in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and let's the memory out with a sigh.

And then he feels it.

Your little hand, crawling its way over his abdomen, to pull yourself closer to his body.

He looks down at you, sound asleep in the crook of his arm. Peaceful and bewitching.

The corner of his mouth curls up involuntarily, watching the way your hair falls all around your face. He raises a hand to push it back, his thumb running along your cheek.

"I don't know where the butterflies went." You grumble inexplicably, deep in the throes of sleep.

Billy lets out a sigh of amusement and catches several strands of hair between his fingers, appreciating the texture, knowing that if he pressed his nose to the strand, it would smell like your favourite shampoo and hair product.

Your hand covers his, and he blinks in surprise. You guide his hand back to the place it was on your cheek, to cup your soft skin in his roughened palm.

And he stays like that until he knows you're close to waking so he tries to extract his body from yours. He manages to slip away from you, and sits up in bed only to feel an arm wrapped around his torso, pulling him back.

He wants to laugh, but the sound will wake you.

A sound of displeasure leaves you before you're climbing onto him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and holding onto him tightly.

Billy laughs, raising his hands to wrap them around you, entertained by your antics.

He wants to open his mouth to protest your clinging, because you'll need your morning brew soon- but maybe you wouldn't mind waiting a bit if it meant you could hold onto him like a koala for a few moments more.

You'd spent the few days after you were carried out of your workplace on the shoulder of a six foot demon, sleeping and relaxing around, rebuilding your sanity after a rough last day at work.

But now, you were all charged up and aching to go somewhere.

When you revealed this to Billy over breakfast, biting into the slice of a perfectly made waffle while you watched him whisk eggs, he smiles.

"I know just the place, mistress."

"Oh? Where?"

"Finish your breakfast and I'll take you."

Which was done admittedly quite quickly under the exciting circumstances.

He tugs you into the centre of your small living room and you can't help but take note of his leashed excitement. He's resisting a large grin and you can see the intensity in the subtle fire of his eyes. It's infectious, and you can't help grinning up at him. Some hair falls into your face and he brushes it away without a word.

"Close your eyes, mistress."

Your grin tapers down into a smile and you close your eyes.

Billy wants to kiss you. The way you close your eyes so easily, trusting his every word briefly disorients him. No one has ever trusted him as much as you have, and he takes a moment to cup your soft cheek in his hand and fight the urge to press his mouth to yours till he forgets how to breathe and becomes your air.

These are the hands of a murderer, Billy thinks to himself, and somehow here he stands, touching the most gorgeous thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

An image of Maria's face pops into his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reopening them and reaching down to take your hands in his.

You wonder what's taking him so long and you figure he might just be getting things ready. Your mind swims with possibilities, maybe he's fabricating a car so that he can take you on a long drive, or some plane tickets to a warm destination with beautiful beaches. You feel his hand trace over your shoulders, down your arms to grip your hands in his. You run your thumbs over his rough knuckles in reassurance, but tilt your head in confusion when he begins pulling you forward.

You take an unsure step, and then another. You don't understand why you needed to close your eyes to be tugged around your own apartment.

"Billy?" You say in confusion.

"Just a few more steps, mistress, come."

You keep taking small steps.

It's the floor that gives you your first hint, changing from your cool hardwood to soft, warm sand and you gasp in surprise. Your eyes shoot open, unable to resist any longer.

Your mouth falls open in shock.

The sound of waves moving rhythmically, building to a crashing crescendo and fizzling out. The heat of the sun on your skin, almost scorching in that way it does when it's just a bit too intense. The feel of the ocean breeze, as it glides over the cerulean water to meet you on the sand, pushing your hair in one direction as it passes.

"Where- how? You can-"

He laughs, and you're distracted by the sound of his joy, looking up at him to see the delight on his face.

He pulls you closer, until you're crushed against his chest, his arms encircling you and even his tail wrapping around your upper thigh like it does, until the only thing you can feel is him, and the sand beneath your feet.

"Surprise, mistress." He murmurs into your ear and a giggle erupts from you, reaching your arms out to squeeze him tightly too.

"Okay, " he says pulling back to look at you, "I'm gonna check in, I'll be right back." He guides you to a cozy chaise, shaded by a large umbrella and helps you climb in, watching as you settle against the abundant pillows and smile when he hands you a pair of sunglasses and dons a pair himself.

His beauty stuns you, remembering the very first time you saw him, and you miss when he says that he'll be right back.

You look at the beach for a long time, aching to take a swim but knowing that the water will be frigid at first. You think about your almost death, and the way things could have ended badly for you, all the years you'd spent before that, struggling with so much loss, and the realisation that you'd never really made any type of connections with anyone after your parents died. And the first tentative friend you'd made had tried to kill you.

Suddenly, Billy's horned head pops under the umbrella, holding two decorated drinks in hand.

"I sensed distress." He says, scanning the area for any cause of concern before re-centering on you.

"I'm the cause of my own distress." You say with a sigh, followed by a faux enthusiastic smile.

He gives you a look of sympathy, extending one of the fruity drinks in his hand to you.

"Want to talk? Or be distracted?" He asks.

You take a deep breath, watching him settle himself beside you, and you instinctively lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder with your eyes fixed in the horizon.

"I lost my parents at an early age. I was raised by a really nice foster family, and then I lost them too." You swallow, trying to keep yourself in check.

"I mourned my family twice. I shut everyone out... twice. It took a long time to open myself up again, and then she tried to sacrifice me to a demon." You look up at him with an amused smile, to find him listening intently.

"I guess. I need to know what you did." You say, and you watch the muscle in his jaw tic.

"I need to see the worst parts of you."

A long moment passes, and you think he's going to remain silent. You lift your glass to take a sip of the fruity drink.

"If you know what I did, you'd hate me."

A small chuckle leaves your throat and he finally looks down at you, his nose just barely touching yours.

"I couldn't hate you, because, one, you saved my life, and two, you've spent a long time in hell paying for your mistakes. You're still paying for them."

A smile on his lips and you're drawn in to him like a bee is to a flower.

"I grew up an orphan too. But a hundred years ago it wasn't easy. No one looked out for us. No one cared. I was lucky to have one meal a day, and then I met Rawlins. He gave me food, shelter, warmth, protection. And all I had to do was shoot where he pointed."

You move closer to him in encouragement.

"One day he pointed at my best friend's family, and I was too far gone to say no. I killed them, the Castles, a little boy, his sister, and his mother. I'd lost sight of what I wanted to protect and I became the worst version of myself."

"Frank Castle found me, and gave me exactly what I deserved, a violent death, begging for mercy when I didn't give any to his family."

By now, you can see it in his face, his own self hatred. His mouth twitches with displeasure.

"I hate the person I became. And I'd spend eternity trying to pay for it if I have to."

A long moment of contemplative silence before you sigh, and he finally turns to look at you as if he'd just remembered that you were there beside him.

You lean up, placing a soft kiss to his cheek, and then another in absent thought.

"I'm sure you've been through way worse that you're telling me, and I want you to know that I still trust you. Because you're not that person anymore, because you looked at me once and decided I was worth saving, and I think you are too."

"Am I?" He asks, and the desperation in his voice presses into your throat, threatening tears.

"Yes." You say evenly, kissing your way up the side of his face until your nose is pressed to his hairline. Then you lean up further and press a kiss to his horn and he lets out a low groan.

"Did I hurt you?" You ask, crooking a finger under his chin to tilt his face up so that his eyes meet yours.

"Sensitive there, mistress."

Your brain scrambles like egg on a hot plate.

"Painful sensitive?" You ask, leaning up to brush your lips to them once more, "Ticklish sensitive?" You smile against the ridged surface when you hear him stutter out another groan, "Or excited sensitive?" You say with an open-mouthed kiss.

"The last one." He says, and you smile above him.

You let out a hum of acknowledgement at the back of your throat and lower yourself into the space beside him, "How interesting." You murmur, continuing to sip your drink and stare out at the sea.

You don't see the slow smile that spreads across his face.

Billy advises that the best time for a swim is late evening when the water is warmest, so you decide to wait until the sun is hanging low in the sky. He'd managed to bring across some of your clothes and you'd had a swimsuit you'd bought a while ago but never worn. You look at yourself in the mirror for long moments, and pick apart your flaws from top to bottom. You know there are much more attractive women out there in smaller suits that would catch eyes a lot quicker.

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

What was the point of being insecure? When you'd almost died a few months ago. It didn't matter how many rolls your body had, or the odd scars in strange places. It just didn't matter. This was the skin you had, and the only one you were going to get. May as well wear it with pride.

So that's what you did.

You walked out to him in your sundress to find him reclined in the same spot you left him. He's wearing knee length white swim trunks with green palm leaves patterned all over them. He looks like he belongs here, shirtless and sipping from a short glass with a small pink umbrella poking out the top. His shades fixed on his face, his horns poking out from his messy hair and his tail flicking gently in the evening breeze. You know you're the only one that can see his horns and tail, and to everyone else, Billy is just a breathtakingly handsome man on vacation.

With you.

"Can I ask-"

"-No you cannot."

"You don't even know-"

"-My tail."

"Okay, so maybe you do know-"

"-I make holes in the back of my pants, yes."

A short pause.

"Breezy." You say trying to resist laughing, but failing miserably.

He places his drink down and gets to his feet menacingly, stepping into your personal space. When you try to step back, his large hands grip your waist, tail wrapping around your bare thigh under your skirt. You breath stops when you feel the edge of his tail graze the warming spot between your thighs.

"Something funny, mistress?" He says, you can't see his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"N-no Billy, I was just curious about-" your mouth falls open when he pulls your body closer into his. Your chest grazing precariously against his.

"Shall we go for a swim?"

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly in response.

A smile and he tugs his sunglasses off, turning and walking to the water's edge. He turns to look back at you expectantly.

A soft sigh and you're pulling your sundress over your head and tossing it onto your shared chaise, turning to face him.

You're unsure of the expression on his face, the way his smile falls, but his eyes follow your every move. You maintain your smile though, barely sparing him a glance as you walk past him and into the clear waters.

The sunset catches on the sea, casting a shimmering reflection of the sky. The hues of amber and vermillion with washed out streaks of violet fill the sky, and you lean easily against him when he comes up behind you.

His hands on your hips, lips to your ear.

"Beautiful." He whispers, and you smile, covering his hands with yours.

You stay there, swaying in the warm water, watching the sun set in front of you.

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4��� 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

 ***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

 ***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.