#actually i do have thoughts and they are filled with salt and memories from the final GoT season : ))

[klngfili]

they really said sauron is for the straights and the straights only 😬😬✌️

[theostrophywife]

written in the stars.

pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: until i found you by stephen sanchez feat. em beihold. author's note: boyfriend theo is the best theo. if you're wondering, then yes writing this hurt me as much as it hurts reading it but like in the best way possible.

Theodore Nott has always had an affinity for the stars. 

When he was younger, Theo's mother used to take him to the rooftop of Nott Manor and point out the constellations to him. The stars told stories, his mum had said. Theo listened with rapt attention as she recounted the tales of Aquila, Heracles, and Orion as they glittered against the backdrop of the English countryside.

The two of them would make an entire evening out of it. Laying on his back atop a nest of blankets and pillows, little Theo watched as the stars climbed higher and higher, filling the horizon with hope and light. Stargazing had been their special secret. The one thing that wasn’t tainted by his abusive father. Theo guarded the memory of those nights in his heart like a priceless treasure.

After his mother’s passing, Theo continued their tradition of stargazing. Even if she was no longer alive, all he had to do was look up at the sky to feel her with him. For that reason, the stars were special to him and he’d never shared its meaning with anyone. 

Until tonight. 

“Watch your step, cara mia.” Theo said as he guided you by the small of your back. 

The dark cloth covering your eyes prohibited you from seeing, but you trusted your boyfriend to keep you from falling. Though you weren’t a fan of surprises, Theo was impossible to resist. All he had to do was flash those pretty watercolor eyes at you and you were an absolute goner. 

For you, Theo had always been the exception. 

He guided you up a staircase, keeping a firm grip on your waist as the two of you ascended. Wherever you were going, it was pretty high up. You smiled as Theo took hold of your waist, knowing that you weren't the biggest fan of heights. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. When you reached the top, Theo unfastened his tie from behind your head. 

“You can open your eyes now, sweetheart.” 

You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. The wind whistled through the stone arches of the Astronomy Tower, framing the starkissed night with its marble pillars. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the nest of blankets and pillows arranged in the middle of the wooden floor. 

“Did you do all of this for me, babe?” 

Theo smiled. “I thought you might like to go stargazing with me,” he said, his voice soft. “Do you like it, my love?” 

“I love it, Teddy.” You beamed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his nose. “But not nearly as much as I love you.” 

Theo grinned before pulling you in for a proper kiss. His lips were soft against yours and he tasted like peppermint. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your knees buckled slightly. Theo never failed to make you feel like a lovestruck school girl. It never stopped feeling like this despite how many times you kissed this boy.

As if reading your thoughts, Theo smiled against your lips. “Come on, Y/N. I want to show you my favorite constellations.” 

The two of you laid down beneath the stars, making yourself comfortable amidst the blankets and pillows. Wordlessly, Theo pulled you into his arms and you nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of sea salt spray and sun kissed skin. 

“Tell me the story of the stars, Teddy.” 

He smiled, brushing your hair back. “That one right there is Ursa Major. Otherwise known as the Big Dipper, but if you look at the entire constellation, it actually forms a bear.” 

“I remember learning about that when I was little,” you said, gazing up at the sky. “Didn’t it have something to do with Zeus?”

Theo nodded. “In Greek mythology, the Olympian God Zeus fell in love with Callisto and got her pregnant. After she gave birth to the child, Hera was so mad she turned Callisto into a bear.” 

“That hardly seems fair,” you responded with a frown. 

“Zeus was a bit of a wanker,” Theo said in agreement. “Hera was even worse. She cursed Callisto to wander the forest for years in bear form until she was hunted by her own son Arcas. Just as he raised his spear to strike her down, Zeus stepped in and sent them up to the heavens. Callisto as Ursa Major and Arcas as Bootes.” 

“The Greek gods were truly a piece of work,” you replied. “But at least we got those constellations out of them."

You squinted, pointing at the cluster of stars hovering in the east. “What’s that one?” 

“That’s the constellation of Leo,” explained Theo. “Named after the Nemean lion that Heracles defeated during the first of his twelve labours.” 

“Didn’t he make a cloak out of the lion’s pelt?” 

“Smart girl,” Theo said proudly. “The cloak made Heracles invincible and more fearsome than he already was. The Nemean lion’s heart is made up of the star Regulus, which is associated with the arrival of spring.” 

“The Little King. I read that it burns hotter than the sun.” 

Theo couldn’t help but smile. Before he met you, he never thought he’d find someone to share such a special and intimate thing with. He was worried that no one else would understand his love for the stars, but as he watched you peer curiously up at the sky, your nose scrunched in careful concentration, Theo felt all of his doubts fade away. 

“Regulus is unique because it can be seen in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres.” 

The blue star glittered brightly above your heads, as if it was showing off for the occasion. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed. 

Theo stared at you, at the childlike wonder shimmering in your eyes, and he felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. The gravity of what he felt for you hit him all at once. 

“Yeah,” Theo said softly, still looking at you. “Beautiful.” 

You grinned, intertwining your fingers and kissing his knuckles. “How do you know so much about the stars, Teddy?” 

“My mum taught me.” Theo answered, drawing circles on your hip. “When I was little, she used to take me to the rooftop of the manor and tell me the story behind each star. She was fascinated by them. Before she met my father, she wanted to teach astronomy at the Stati Magia.”

“The Italian School of Witchcraft?” 

Theo nodded. “My mother attended the Stati Magia, just like her mother and her mother before her. A tradition that I unintentionally broke, as nonna Lucia loves to remind me. Sometimes I think the old bat wishes that I was born a strega instead.” 

You giggled. “You would’ve been a very pretty witch.” Theo chuckled as you propped your head up in one hand. “Did your mum end up becoming a professor?”

“No,” Theo said sadly. “After I was born, my father said that her place was at the manor. He refused to move to Florence, even though he knew it was my mother’s dream.” 

You stroked his hair, nodding emphatically. Theo rarely talked about his mother. You knew that her passing was a painful subject for him, so you never pushed him to talk about it unless he wanted to.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, my love,” you said. “But at least she was able to pass down her love of the stars to you. In a way, she lived her dream by teaching you.” 

A soft smile tugged at your boyfriend’s lips. “I suppose she did.” 

You laid back down, but this time you cradled Theo against you. He rested his head against your chest, listening to the calming sound of your heartbeat. Talking about his mother will always be hard, but you helped ease the pain. 

“What about those stars?” You asked, pointing to the north. “What did your mother tell you about them?” 

“Perseus and Andromeda,” Theo answered. “Those are actually her favorites.”

“The chained maiden.” 

Theo stirred, inclining his gaze to the horizon. “Andromeda was the Princess of Aethiopia, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia. She was said to be very beautiful. Her mother bragged that Andromeda was fairer than the Nereids, which angered Poseidon. As punishment, the Sea God sent the creature Cetus to ravage that coast of their kingdom.” 

You nodded, recalling the story. “King Cepheus chained her to a rock and offered her as a sacrifice to appease the sea monster.” 

“Luckily for Andromeda, the hero Perseus found her before Cetus could attack again. Perseus fell in love with Andromeda and defeated the monster so he could free the princess. They ended up marrying and became king and queen of Mycenae. When they died, the goddess Athena placed them side by side in the heavens so that they would never be parted, not even by death.” 

“A love written in the stars,” you said with awe and wonder. “I can see why it’s your mother’s favorite.”

“When I was a boy, she told me that she hoped I’d experience a love like theirs, minus the sea monster of course.” You chuckled. Theo knit his brows together like he did when he was deep in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “It’s sad to think that she never found her Perseus.” 

You brushed his hair back, running your fingers through his curls gently. “She might not have found her Perseus, but she did have her Theo.”

Theo turned over and looked at you. The intensity in his gaze made you shiver. He was so ingrained in your heart that it felt inaccurate to continue calling it yours.

“After she died, I never thought I’d share her stories with anyone again, but I’m glad I shared them with you.” 

“Thank you for trusting me, Theo.” You said as you placed a kiss on his temple. “It means the world to me that you not only shared your mother’s stories, but her memory as well. I would’ve loved to meet her.”

The tender smile on Theo’s face was heartbreaking. Then softly, he whispered. “She would’ve loved you, Y/N.”

Your heart cracked open, his words spilling like sunlight over every crevice, warming you from the inside out.

Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, but you forced yourself to give Theo a watery smile. “Because I’m a nerd who memorized obscure mythological facts?”

Your boyfriend smiled. “No,” he said gently, caressing your cheek. “Because you made her wish come true. You are my love written in the stars, cara mia.” 

The moonlight kissed Theo’s tan skin, the silver beams caressing his face like a lover as if the moon and the stars craved to commit his beauty to memory as badly as you did. Gods, he was breathtaking. 

This was the Teddy you knew and loved. Your Teddy.

Those watercolor eyes shimmered with emotion. “Sometimes I think the gods made you just for me, like our souls are linked in a way that neither logic nor magic can explain. Whatever it is, I think I’ve loved you since before the heavens and the earth existed and I’m fairly certain that I’d still love you even after the last star falls out of the sky.”

“You’re the love of my life, Theodore Nott.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as this boy—this beautiful boy ensnared your mind, body, and soul. “I’d find you in any universe and in any galaxy. Maybe someday we’ll be immortalized in the stars too.” 

Theo held your face in his hands. His expression was open and vulnerable, like he wasn’t afraid to lay himself bare before you. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“We’re two halves of a whole,” Theo said. “I loved you yesterday. I love you today and I’ll love you tomorrow. You’re it for me, Y/N. You and no one else.” 

“You and no one else, Teddy.” 

Under the constellations of the star crossed lovers, Theo kissed you so gently that it made your heart ache. As Andromeda and Perseus kept watch over the horizon, Theodore Nott knew one thing for certain.

Someday the stars would tell your story too.

[kcrossvine-art]

haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D

As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!

We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.

A large daikon

½ lbs fatty bacon

Shallots

Garlic

Chicken eggs

Salt

Pepper

Arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.

AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.

Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)

Daikon and bacon r very tasty together

They end up having the same texture almost

Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy

Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling

Ketchup pairs well

(but i prefer medium hot sauce)

Dark coffee pairs well

The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish

. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.

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"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.

Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.

It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.

What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 large daikon, chopped

½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped

2 shallots

3 cloves of garlic

3 Eggs

Salt

Pepper

Some arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

Method:

Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.

Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.

Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.

Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.

Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.

Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.

Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.

Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.

Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.

Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.

Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.

Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.

Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!

[peeweekey]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

pairing: sam x reader

wc: 1.1k

tags: CHEEEEESY cheesy cheesy puppy love, mutual pining, sam is PATHETICALLY down bad, pre-relationship, abigail and sebastian mentioned, friends to lovers

synopsis: if it were up to sam, he'd spend every second of everyday at your side.

a/n: in all of my other sam fics, its reader embarrassingly in love with him...he gets a taste of his own medicine here lol!

With vanilla ice cream melting and dripping down your fingertips, coarse sand underneath you and the salty ocean waves lapping at your feet; you are a child again, sitting with your grandpa at the docks, watching as he reeled in a ‘big one’. Filling his bucket with loads and loads of fish.

Those days are far gone now, but the memory remains, as clear as the day you remember it. The feeling is nostalgic, sleepy in the way your senses are dulled by syrupy thick contentment. Beaches at sunset have that effect on you, you suppose. 

“This is fun,” Sam says, tone lacking its boisterous loudness, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of crashing waves. “I had a lot of fun today, farmer.”

Your eyes flicker to him, his green gaze dead-set on the peachy golden sky, the taste of sea salt mingling with sweet ice cream heavy in your tongue. The sea breeze is cold, whipping against your face and running through your hair.

“I did too,” you agree. “Y’know, I don’t get a lot of off time with the farm and stuff. This is a nice change of pace.”

He smiles, that sunshine smile you’ve come to associate with Sam. “I caught you at just the right time then, huh?” 

You shrug, your own smile mirroring his. “Auspicious.” He did.

The sun is setting, the day is coming to a close yet Sam wishes it wouldn’t, silently pleading with any higher being to somehow stretch time. He is barely a religious person, but the weight of his want is enough to transcend his own beliefs. Every second with you barely feels like enough; like sand slipping through his fingers.

One thing’s for certain, Sam isn’t going to just let it end here.

“We should hang out like this again,” Sam says, a little hurriedly, captured all in one breath. Shy and tentative, like a bashful child with a school crush. “Uh, I mean, do you? Wanna? Hang out with me?”

You can barely suppress a delighted chuckle from slipping past your lips, your chest warming with fond affection. “I’d be more than happy to. Yoba knows I need a break or two or I’ll actually explode,” you huff while Sam hums in agreement. “We can even invite Abigail and Sebastian… so can demo that new song for me, I see you all working very hard when I visit sometimes.”

He should be happy to hear that; that you’d be more than happy to spend your precious off time with him out of all people. You and him, him and you, Sam and the farmer. Your name connected to his with ‘and’, it makes him giddy, causes his cheeks pinken and pinken. 

Just the two of you, though. Sure, he loves his friends, Abby and Seb have been with him since day one. But it feels out of place—

(Sam, Sebastian, Abigail and the farmer doesn’t have that ring to it…)

“Yeah, I—I dunno, it’s just…”

The unfiltered truth is stupid, at least to him. Vincent is far too young for some of the things Sam longs to say. There’s a reason Abby and Seb hang out under his nose, he won’t blame them, they have their own secrets he isn’t privy to—too serious, too dull for him.

(And now with you, he thinks you might just be the one he can share his own secrets with. Because even he has his own serious, dull thoughts. Thoughts that he doesn’t want brushed away with a snarky remark or a sarcastic laugh.)

“I kinda like that it’s just the two of us?” 

His voice sounds unsteady, squeaky. Trailing off at the end, lost in the sound of water crashing at your feet. Phrasing his statement into a question that you could deny, that you could easily brush off—because if you did, he would too. 

(It would be a bummer if you did though, but Sam is cool with that, chill with any decision you make. Really, he totally is.)

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his, your ice cream is dripping down, down, down your knuckles. Once your skin meets his, you don’t pull away, you press closer and closer to his side. Leaning your head against his sunburnt shoulder—but he barely registers the sting—and your arm against his own. It’s a pleasant weight, having you against him—grounding and tethering him to you.

“I do too. Like it, I mean. I think I get to see so many other sides to you, Sam. Without the others and all that.”

Sam feels his breath hitch, his cheeks flush even pinker even with the sunburns. “Woah, phew, I mean—awesome… When, when do you think we can meet next?”

You tilt your head, running calculations through your mind. You’re very busy on that farm, he knows; but Sam can’t help but keep his hopes up, you’re fun company. Maybe the best he’s had yet.

“I know I won’t have enough time until my melons are ready for harvesting—and don’t you dare try making a joke about that,” you smile, wide and cheeky. Right as Sam readies an innuendo at the tip of his tongue; it makes his blood pump faster and his breathing stutters at the thought of you knowing him so well. 

“So how about this?” you propose slowly. “We spend one day every month doing all the stuff we wanna do, together. just you and me—fun right? I’ll even sleep a little earlier the night before.”

Sam bites into his ice cream—chocolate and your treat, at your insistence—though he isn’t quite sure if the immediate smile on his lips is due to its sweetness, or yours.

He leans closer into you, resting his head on top of yours, strands of your hair tickling his lips. Lowering his voice into a whisper so only you can hear.

(The secret is that you make Sam want. Want, want, want like he’ll never get sick of it. He hoards these stolen moments with you so greedily yet wants more.)

“…two days, two days each month.”

He feels your body shake with the strength of your laughter, warmth swirls all throughout his body, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. Sam finds that he likes the feeling, the buzz of it—it’s addicting.

“Yeah, alright then,” you reply, mirth dripping from each and every word. “two days. We have a deal. Better?”

“Yeah,” he turns back to face the water, the ocean spray misting his face. “Yeah, a lot better. That does sound fun.”

Anything sounds fun when it involves you.

[miabebe]

The Legend of The Sea |Epilogue |

"You're crying? You must be turning human, the MerFolk don't cry."

"Of course we do. Why do you think the Sea is nothing but salt?"

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol × reader

Genre: Heavy Angst, Romance, Implied smut

Word Count: 4K

A/n: It's finally here! I felt the angst level in the original fic was too high I wanted to give some closure but also maintain the bittersweet nature of their story so I tried my best, I hope its a satisfactory to you guys!

Read the fic here first!

3 months later.

Seungcheol stared at his reflection in the water.

Dark hair toussled messily in the wind, dark circles stark under his eyes. He hadn't slept in days....he couldn't.

Every time he closed his eyes he would go back to that night in his room.

You taking a step back and then another.

Your hair fluttering in the wind of the sea.

Your eyes, when you looked at him for the last time.

He just couldn't get it out of his head. The scene would play over and over and over in his head, as nightfall would turn to daybreak, forcing him out of the confines of his room, forcing him into court, forcing him into his role as King.

That was the unfortunate thing about being one - Seungcheol didn't have the time or the luxury to wallow in his own sorrows. He had a kingdom to look after and people to protect. That meant everyday, he had to be a leader, he had to be the bravest man in the nation. It was only in the darkness of his room, standing before the window, taking in your lingering scent and the echoes of your words that he was his true self - a broken, broken man.

If there was any place that could offer him even a sliver of solitude, it was here, at the seacave. Seungcheol didn't know why he found himself here so often. Even though it was the waters that so cruelly took you from him, perhaps being close to the ocean made him feel close to you. Or perhaps because sometimes, the sea would take pity and wash up little somethings from your life onto the shore - your favourite sea weed, or the rare sea flowers you loved to talk about or those pretty pearls in the oysters.

Over the days, Seungcheol had been collecting those little tidbits, filling the cave with signs and memories of you. He had moved your favourite dresses, your favourite books, everything precious to you that was left in his possession out here. This was his haven, his sanctuary - his last reminder of you. His castle and the men in his court were unfortunately not gracious enough to entertain Seungcheol's misery - they needed him to leave you behind, needed him to find a queen, a political alliance that could strengthen the kingdom. Yet another reason Seungcheol often found himself in the presence of the ocean - even though it was taunting, it was where you belonged and where he freely belonged to you.

Today too the ocean is mocking him not so subtly, as Seungcheol's eyes fell on a little something that washed up on the shore, something he was actually quite familiar with - your seashell necklace.

Many months ago, right here, around the time day blended into night, you met him, speaking urgently. You rambled about some mission, something you had to do, something he had to help you with. Handing him this very necklace, you told him one day you'll come to Land like a blank slate and asked him to return it to you when you felt most lost - you said that it would remind you of what you needed to do when the time came. Seungcheol did not understand at all. It didn't matter though, all he had to do was just help you however he could. Your mission was his mission.

Bending down, he picked up the necklace, wondering how exactly it aided you. He had been noticing changes in you for a while by the time he returned it to you. You were asking more questions about the ocean, you were more quiet, lost in thoughts, lost in a battle with yourself. Seungcheol knew he had to let you figure things out, that's what you told him and that's what he did. By the time he came from war, the way you held onto him when he finally recovered told him something had drastically changed. Before he could even attempt to fathom what it was things had escalated - his father died, you were jailed for an assassination attempt and Seungcheol was forced to become king to free you.

Maybe if he hadn't let you go, you'd still be there, not beside him but at least he'd have the knowledge and the surety that you were okay. But Seungcheol couldn't bind you like that, he couldn't strip you of the one thing you valued the most about being in the ocean - your freedom. He had to let you go, but he didn't think you'd have gone this far away from him.

"She always manages to find a way doesn't she?"

Seungcheol stumbled back at the sound of a voice, completely taken aback. Before him was a woman who was definitely old but didn't seem it - she had a staff in one hand, and had donned clothes that made her look like she was in the waters though she was clearly floating above it. It was an apparition......this was magic - that meant she was a woman of the sea.

"The Sea Witch." She corrected his thought, pointing. "And the owner of that."

Seungcheol glanced at the necklace in his hand. "This is Y/n's."

The old lady let out a laugh, shaking her head. "I told you, she's a smart one that one. Always a step ahead, even of me." As she floated closer to him, Seungcheol did not take a worried step back. "Your lovely Y/n, she was an apprentice in my practice, all members of the Royal family are bound to work under me to understand sea magic-"

"Royal family?" Seungcheol blinked hard and fast. "Y/n.... she's....royalty?"

"Strange isn't it? Neither did you know you were in love with the youngest princess of the Sea, neither did she know she was in love with the only Prince of the land. Things would have been so different had you both known....."

"I don't understand." Seungcheol rubbed his head. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know why Y/n came to land King Choi?"

"I figured it was to kill my father-"

"The king." She corrected. "Y/n's mission was to kill the king. Did you ever wonder why?"

"I pondered about it day and night. The only explanation I could think of was...." Seungcheol recalled that fateful day. "It has something to do with my father setting sail."

"Indeed." She confirmed, making Seungcheol's heart sink in his chest. He knew that was a bad idea, he had voted against it. And with each word of the story that the Sea witch proceeded to tell him, it only made it worse.

"So...." He tried to process everything that had happened. It all made sense and also didn't at the same time. "Y/n had to kill my father or me to get back her kingdom. How did you or anyone think she could have done that without her memories? How could you expect that-"

"Was she not nearly successful King Choi?" The Sea Witch smiled knowingly. "Did you think the Hwangs would set her up to a mission that she could easily fulfill? Their plan was to tie her ancient sea magic, to ensure that she would fail in all ways possible, but your woman..... she's a warrior. She's one of the finest battle strategist the sea has ever seen and she had cleverly planned everything in her favour. That necklace...." She chuckled looking at his hands. "That is one of my most prized possessions, something she knew I would help her in exchange for and so she planted it with you and used it when the time came. She always finds a way King Choi, you see how its reached you again? How she sent me to you?"

Seungcheol stared at the seashell pendant. He had just thought of it as a pretty reminder of where you were from. He didn't know it was your secret weapon. That there was so much to this.

"And what do you want in exchange for it?" The Sea Witch stepped ahead, mistaking his wandering into the past as hesitance. "What is it that you want?"

Seungcheol let out a sad chuckle. There was only one thing he ever wanted.

"You can't give it to me." He held out his hand, returning the necklace to its rightful owner. "You can't bring her back."

"But I can."

The crashing waves were not louder than the racing of Seungcheol's heart against his chest.

"Only the dead can't be brought back King Choi. The living just need to be moved around."

The living.

"That's not possible." Seungcheol shook his head. "I know how Sea magic works, she's told me before, you just told me! I saw the sea foam myself....." He wrapped his hand around shell, its sharp edge bleeding him over a wound that never healed. "How is it possible?"

"Because of that." She pointed at the crimson of his hand dripping into the golden sand. "The Sea works in mysterious ways King Choi; magic works in mysterious ways too. When Y/n fell into the Sea that day, so did the dagger, with your blood on it. Blood for blood. I believe the sea magic was satisfied."

Seungcheol felt a ragged breath leave him. "She's.... alive?"

"Barely."

The Sea Witch waved her staff in the air, making the waters rise like a screen, the evening light behind it projecting an image. It was you, sitting down somewhere on the floor, hugging your legs, softly rocking back and forth. Your arms looked a lot thinner than usual, cheeks sunken in, eyes tired and fluttered shut.

"The Sea might have spared her but the Hwangs didn't. The mission was to kill the king. Your father died a natural death and if it had ended at that, there was nothing to argue but unfatefully, before the completion of 100 days, there was another king." Seungcheol felt his insides turn. "She failed to kill you and so she wasn't deemed worthy of the crown. When Hwangs took over, their first order was to imprison her to avoid any rebellion from her side against the new kingdom."

The Sea Witch tilted her head at him, smiling sadly. "Strange isn't it? What you did to save her was what ended up being her downfall. Fate too works in mysterious ways." 

Seungcheol swore if fate appeared before him right now, he would crush it with his bare hands.

"I'll get her back." Never before did he feel the kind of determination coursing through his veins. The image of you slowly disappeared as the sea witch lowered her staff looking amused. "I'll save her no matter what it takes."

"Y/n doesn't need your saving King Choi. She went to prison willingly." Seungcheol’s lips parted in shock. "Taking into consideration that you became King only the night before a 100 days completed, the Council of the Sea offered her one more chance to go to Land and kill you. She refused. She said she would prove her worth for the throne in the Sea itself. Sure she's benevolent, loves her people and is loyal to her kingdom, but the fact is that she was simply not trained for administration - she was no match for the Hwangs and so the Council declined her claim to the throne."

You refused to kill him. Again. Even if meant saving yourself and everything you cared about. Seungcheol was determined to do whatever it took to get you back. Unite heaven and earth if it came to it. Bring hell from underground, whatever it took.

"Then I'll get her throne back. If that's what it takes to free, I'll do it. Even if it means war. I have been working on science that would allow us to breath in water - we'll set sail, we'll fight, we'll free her, I can do it."

The Sea Witch stared at him, at his pacing agitated self, his mind going mad with just one goal.

"Do you know how magic really came to the sea King Choi?"

Seungcheol blinked, taken aback by the irrelevant question but didn't show it. "The Kangs escaped into it with the spectre of magic....." His eyes focused on the staff in her hand, words faltering as he recognised it from the faint drawings in his old books.

"Escaped?" She laughed without humour. "That's hardly the word King Choi - it was an act of love." Seungcheol frowned in confusion as she continued. "Though both families were neck deep in war, of all the people in the world, the Prince of the Choi kingdom was deeply in love with the Kang Princess. It was his love that brought the spectre of magic to the Kangs, allowing them to hide from battle. It was his love that stopped the war, separated both worlds and ensured peace and it was her love that ensured her people survived. Its her love that still keeps them alive even after so many years."

Seungcheol felt like something stabbed him in his chest as he looked at the Sea witch, grip tight over her staff, looking older than time and in her eyes he recognised the look he always saw in his own - a pining, a fruitless longing for the ones they loved. It was her, she was the Kang Princess. "Their love saved the world, you cannot allow yours to end it King Choi. You cannot declare war between two worlds over a mere desire."

Every bit of hope that had risen in Seungcheol crumbled miserably. "Is there nothing I can do? How am I supposed to just sit still knowing she's not alright?"

"Forget her Seungcheol."

" I can't-"

"Listen to me," She urged urgently. "If you don't bring war to Sea, the Hwangs will eventually bring it to Land. There's a reason the people of the Sea do not want them on the throne - they don't care for anything before power. The only strength the Sea had over Land was magic, but now with people here slowly discovering it, with people like you letting your inquisitiveness take over, the Hwangs feel threatened. So I have a solution if you're willing to listen."

Seungcheol nodded.

"Relinquish your knowledge of the Sea and as King, give me permission to take the same away from your people. I will make a deal with the Hwangs - your memories in exchange for Y/n's freedom."

Seungcheol looked at her with hope. "Do you think that would work?"

"Do you think you can do it? Forgetting about the sea would mean, forgetting about her too. You won't remember anything about her, it will be like she never even existed." She looked af him sadly. "But she will be free and she will be home."

Not having even a memory of you? All Seungcheol ever knew was his love for you, if he forgot that, what would he be but a shell of a man? But if it meant you'd be free, that you'd be safe, what else could possibly matter to him?

Seungcheol didn't remember much of what happened after he nodded. He rememebered thick black smoke rising above the forest right from the castle, prompting him to immediately get on his horse and ride towards the fire. It was his library. He watched the guards pour buckets of water to douse the flames but unfortunately it only stopped after every single inch was reduced to ashes. As Seungcheol walked in the aftermath, he racked his brains to remember what exactly was in here and if it truly was valuable or not. Considering he could barely recollect what was here, he figured it must not have been too important and sent orders for the place to be cleaned and the room to be redone. After all, the new queen would need a space of her own.

8 years later

It all began again the day you woke up on the beach.

The air was cool, the sand was hot; the seagulls were flying across the blue sky, the sound of the waves was like a beautiful melody – it was like a perfectly painted picture. It felt serene and pleasant and like home, like nothing could make this moment feel better.

Then you heard the laughter. A familiar, beautiful laughter and so this time, you didn’t hide.

Adjusting your red dress, you pulled yourself up to your feet, leaning against the big boulder and there you saw them, Seungcheol laughing at Kkuma as the little ball of fluff rolled about in the sand. The tightness that did not leave your chest the last eight years slowly began to unravel. There was so much happiness in his laughter, so much life in the way he chased his dog in the sand. It was like he had none of the pain that you were carrying for almost a decade.

Of course, he didn’t. The Sea Witch told you what happened, that he had given up all his memories of the Sea to save you. That he had given up all his memories of you. You knew that meant he didn’t pine for you the way you did for him all these years, but you didn’t think you’d see him so carefree. Something about the way your existence didn’t seem to even affect him sent a strange sadness rippling through you. Maybe coming here was a mistake. What if he had moved on? What if he got married and had a family? What if you returning made no difference to him? You could understand Seungcheol not remembering you but the thought of you not mattering to him anymore? You don’t think you could handle that; you should have never come here.

You took a step back and then another, pulling yourself away from there, pulling yourself away from him when you felt yourself knock into something that let out a small cry. You turned around to see a small boy rubbing his head vigorously, looking at you full of accusation. He looked young, like he was five or six, dressed in the finest of clothes, his hair windswept to the side. You got on your knees, meeting him at eye level to apologise when you felt yourself being knocked over into the sand by a familiar ball of white. Kkuma barked excitedly, covering your in wet licks, making you laugh, the pain in your heart slightly ebbing. Maybe not everyone had forgotten you.

“Kkuma never plays with strangers.” The young boy narrowed his eyes at you. “Who are you?”

You looked at him at a loss of words, when a shadow fell over you making you look up to see a silhouette against the sun. It's only when he crouched beside you that you could see all his features clearly - he's gotten a little old over the years but he still looks like Seungcheol. Your Seungcheol.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The beach is off limits.” He stated and you looked at him pointedly. Somehow, he understood the question in your eyes. “I’m not supposed to be here either but…. Something about the Sea keeps pulling me to it and I am the King so…”

You politely bowed, as one would to a King.

“I’ve not seen you around. Are you from out of town?”

You nodded. You didn't know what else to say to him. How could you explain the events of the last 8 years? Before you were taken away to prison the one thing you managed to do was get a hold of the Sea Witch's shell necklace and guided it to reach him with the little magic you knew. You knew it would bring her to him like it did to you, that it would offer him and explanation and a closure but the result of that ended up so much different than you had expected - you'd lost him in ways you didn't imagine.

After you were released from prison there was only one thing to do - get the Hwangs out of power. So you spent years assembling an army, figuring out the best way to crumble this empire when you received news that your sister was not in fact missing but hidden away by the Hwangs in an attempt to take over the throne. After you had successfully plotted and managed to break her free, even though the Sea Council deemed she was the best fit for the throne, the Hwangs did not surrender. Days and nights you battled, the sea was plagued with storms and horrifying events until finally one day, the hwangs fell from power, returning peace to the waters. It was only after you put your sister on the throne, made sure that the Sea was in safe hands that the Sea witch confided in you - once you gained the ability to breath on Land, you'd always have it - you could go back to Seungcheol.

And here you were, with him right before you, with nothing stopping the two of you from being together yet in his eyes, you were nothing but a mere stranger. You wondered if this was how he felt when he found you so many years ago, when you didn't look at him with an ounce of recognition. It must've hurt, like the way it was hurting now but it did not stop him from looking after you, guiding you, making you fall in love with him all over again.

"So you don't have a place to stay?"

You shook your head.

"Can you not speak?" The little boy quipped, earning a glare from the older man. It made you smile as you nodded. Things had not changed on Land.

Seungcheol eyes though wandered over you like he was trying to see through you, figure you out. They stopped at the shell necklace resting on your neck, one last gift from the sea witch before you left the ocean for good. On it engraved were the words,

"Till death do us part." Seungcheol read and you nodded, echoing his words. "Till death do us part."

He met your eyes and you wondered if be could see how much you longed for him, how much you missed him. His lips parted like he wanted to say something but was interrupted by the little boy standing in between, holding the pendant in his hand.

"Is this from the sea?" You nodded, making his eyes shine in excitement. "My father loves the sea, he thinks there's life under it! He keeps researching and studying about it everyday. Do you know? Have you seen life under the sea-"

Seungcheol pulled the child away from you, mumbling, asking him to play with kkuma who just refused to leave your side. You nearly smiled thinking about how Seungcheol somehow gravitated back to the waters but couldn't bring yourself to when the boy's words ring in your head.

"Father?" You looked at Seungcheol hoping he couldn't see how broken your heart was. Of course he'd moved on.

"I adopted him when he was really young. He was found abandoned at the steps of a church. He needed a parent and the kingdom needed an heir, so....." Seungcheol wasn't quite sure why he was explaining so much to you, a stranger. Something about the questions in your eyes just compelled him to.

"And the Queen?" Your fingers played with the sand, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"I don't have one." Seungcheol confessed. "I could just not bring myself to have one, I don't know why....."

His words trailed odd as he looked at you and that little smile dancing on your lips. God you were so beautiful, why did you make his heart clench like that? He cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"If you don't have a place to stay, you may stay in the Palace till you can arrange for you accommodation. I shall personally look after the necessities, is that okay?"

You nodded slowly as Seungcheol stood up, but this time when he held his hand to help you, you took it, with an unsaid promise to yourself and him, never to let go again.

You were going to make this man fall in love with you all over again. Just like he did.

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

[oyster-sauce-tart]

A Creator's Offer

The person who looks exactly like you, named Creator, has an offer for you.

Characters: Reader/Original, Creator 

Disclaimers: 2nd person pov, GN!Reader, one line about suicide but that’s it, a bit dialogue-centric, vague hints to Reader’s past life

1.9k words 

Notes: FFFFFINALLLYYYY DONNE,,,,, one more chapter and we can start getting the reader into Teyvat hehehehehehe

< PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

Prologue, 2

the Realm of Inbetween

You stared at your look-alike with dumbfounded eyes. They stared at you with such awe… such admiration… and said ‘My Original’… just what did that mean… 

This mysterious look-alike stared at you for a couple of seconds and came to a realization. They immediately pulled away and took a step back. 

“Apologies,” they let out a short laugh, “it’s been a while since I interacted physically with someone so you’ll have to excuse me, I nearly forgot that context isn’t something you have as of now.” 

“Wow way to rub salt in the wound,” you scoffed with a playful roll of your eyes. You were taking this in a surprisingly calm stride so far, so might as well keep the shovel digging. 

“Apologies, Original,” and there it was again, that name…, “so first off I should introduce who I am…” 

You waited expectantly as this person collected their thoughts. 

“To put it simply, I’m you!” 

“Eh?” You didn’t expect that answer?! 

“A version of you at least…” They continued, “I am a ‘you’ in which I am a god, one of a familiar game you play… you know…the one with elements…?” 

Your eyes widened, catching onto your other you’s hint. It was easy to catch on, of course, you literally didn’t play any other game. “Wait, wait, wait… so you’re like a… Genshin Impact me…?” 

They nodded. 

“The multiverse is a vast place. For every choice one makes, another universe is created, and when you decided those years back to download Genshin Impact for the first time…” 

“…I became a creator of your universe.” you finished for them with a thoughtful look on your face. 

“I’m very happy you caught on quickly,” they took your hands again and patted them, “in that universe, I am the Creator but given that you created me, I see you as the Original Creator. Hence the nickname.”

Ah, so that explains it… An ‘Original’ Creator to the actual Creator, it’s kinda smart actually! So that means you’re in some kind of SAGAU right? But… 

“You said ‘that universe’ as in your world isn’t where we are right now,” you softly took yourself away from Creator’s grip to slowly spin around taking in your current setting, “so where exactly are we right now?” 

“Well after a particular war that left more than a bad taste in my mouth,” Creator huffed with irritation at their memory of the event, “I used the last of my creation power that was left to create this place to get away from the chaos. I call it the ‘Realm of Inbetween’ because as I soon discovered, this place is an ‘inbetween’ of all the universes that surrounded you, the Original.” 

Your face became an expression of curiosity and interest, “really?” 

Creator nodded, sensing your excitement, and motioned you over to them closer as they sat on the floor. You followed and did the same. 

Both of you looked into the rippling surface of the realm’s platform, the watery reflections gazed back with the starry and dark purple film. Creator’s reflection smiled back to themselves, while yours reflected your own confusion of what exactly Creator was doing. 

Creator reached their hand out into both of yours reflections and the surface started rippling until the reflection started to change and shift, showing Chinese-esque buildings with different people walking around, some holding and making lanterns. Beautiful music drifted in the air filling and adding to the wonderful scenery. 

The sounds, the sights… you recognized it all…! 

“Lantern Rite?” You were amazed, Lantern Rite was already beautiful in the game (if you had enough space at least) but to see it in such a realistic-looking and detailed experience…! 

Creator hummed, “From here I watch the events of Teyvat, in real-time or past—the Lantern Rite here happened quite some time ago—along with that, it’s not just Teyvat I can watch, I’ve been watching your universe as well.” 

Creator tapped on the surface again, and the image started to ripple and change again. 

When the water stilled, the image of you (obviously from the past, given that you’re technically dead right now) from your life showed up. As you looked at the surface, you felt a frown form on your face. 

Amidst the shock from suddenly being ‘alive’ after death and the news of this alternative you… 

You almost forgot how much your life… sucked. 

Based upon your own recollection of your old life, this was just a few moments before your death. God, you could feel this awful dreadful feeling creeping in but it wasn’t because of your death. 

It was what happened prior. 

You could recall the memory very clearly since it was the earliest event before your death. They weren’t very good memories. 

Watching the water start to show the old you about to enter the old university you were at, your face scrunched up as your hand swiped at the water's surface. The memory immediately left, the surface going back to its starry reflection. 

Creator looked at your disgruntled expression. Given that they had been watching you for years, they had come to understand your feelings albeit after a few years of observing you and your past. One and the same you both may be but Creator took quite a while to understand you before now. 

Same personalities, different experiences… 

Creator suddenly lifted themselves off the watery platform into a crisscross sitting position

“I always thought of us both as very interesting enigmas.” Creator pulled a strand of hair behind their ears as you started to lift yourself into the same position your other self was. Creator smiled as you did so. Good, you were distracted from the previous development just now. 

“In the many what-if’s and the infinite universes I’ve seen in this Realm, we seem to be the most similar yet so different.” Creator stared at their hands as well as yours, “I’m just one of the many multiverses of ‘you’s in this universe, yet I can’t help but feel connected to you on a stronger scale than others. Your actions are very similar to that my own; our traits and personality seem almost exact. However, our individual experiences that have molded us are completely different from each other. Our existence interests me greatly; we’ve lived completely different lives yet we’ve become the same exact person.” 

“Is that why you brought me here?” You had uttered those words before you could even think about them, “you saw I was gonna die and you wanted to preserve my existence just in case you disappeared if I did?” 

Creator rested their chin on one of their hands and hummed, “well… not exactly… there are many other worlds that connect like ours however the original’s death doesn’t seem to affect the other…” 

Creator closed their eyes with a pause to think about their next words. You waited for their continued response, wondering what they were gonna say.  

“Because of how close we are to each other,” Creator started, “we share many sentiments with each other. Our likes, our dislikes, preferences… our thoughts.” 

Gauging your reaction, in which your shoulders suddenly stiffened, Creator had guessed that you had started to pick on what they wanted to say. 

“When I looked into your world, I could hear my thoughts and your thoughts overlap into one…” 

And in a strange course of action, both of you uttered the next words in unison. 

“Why is my life like this? Why can’t I live in a better way? Why was I born into such a horrible life?” 

Although your voice was much more sorrowful while Creator’s relayed the words like a textbook, it was very obvious you were both familiar with these sets of words. You were the one who constantly thought about it every day after all before your death. 

You looked down amidst this thought. Your life really wasn’t the greatest. If anything, when that truck hit you, you were elated to realize your suffering was at its end. Just even thinking about your old life, unrelated to Genshin Impact, made your entire body churn with contempt and spite. 

These thoughts unknowingly welded a grimace on your face, which you didn’t notice in entirety at first until Creator had patted your head. 

As you shifted your head to look at Creator, they smiled. “Such thoughts had brought us to this situation!” 

“Obviously your world didn’t treat you the greatest…even your end was about as minuscule as a hilichurl’s death. I’m gonna be honest, your life truly is pitiful” Creator’s face showed a look of awe and amazement at the mere thought of your original life, “really, I’m surprised you didn’t kill yourself yet! It’s just truly, pathetically-” 

“Get to the point already.” 

You glared at your other version with annoyance in your eyes. Creator paused and awkwardly smiled, seeming to have realized at that moment how offending their words were. “Haha… anyways…”–They didn’t seem entirely apologetic about it though– “what I’m trying to say is that I want to give you another chance.” 

Your eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. You… didn’t really think this was gonna be their leadup… 

“I want to strike a deal with you, Original,” they explained, “Your consciousness and body no longer exist in your world, however, mine still does. Given how close we are, we have the ability to merge our timelines, or rather, merge ourselves into one person within my world. 

Your world was utterly miserable to you was it not? But in my world, I am quite literally a god that is worshiped by even the other gods of that world themselves. 

So why don’t you become one with me? 

Let us become one and the same even further, in a world where you will leave your boorish and pathetic life behind and enter a world where you will be adored and loved every day. 

Knowing my life, it will be no easy road but no doubt, if you accept this, you will get the exciting and adoring life that you had always prayed for in the past.” 

As they finished their speech, they held out a hand to you, similar to how one would shake hands to accept a contract after signing. You stare at it as you begin to process their words. 

A life in which you would always be adored… a life where it would be infinitely better than your past. 

A life where you can finally feel and be more than what you were born into. 

A life that was literally a world that you loved dearly with all your heart. 

You had lived pathetically.

You had died pathetically. 

… 

You’ve made up your mind. 

You take a deep breath in and then out and immediately reached out to Creator’s hands. 

“Well given that you took me out of my original body just before my body died,” you smiled widely with glee and took Creator’s hands with a firm grip, “looks like I wouldn’t have a choice other than ‘yes’, right?” 

Creator looked at you with surprise for a moment and then broke down into a mischievous look. The very same one you had on, in fact. 

“Obvious, was it?” they laughed, “although, it wasn’t like you were gonna say no, right?” 

“We’ve only just met and you already know me so well!” You responded playfully. 

“Well of course I do, dearest Original…” 

With your hand in theirs, Creator took their other hand to wrap around yours and shook it once. 

“I am you after all.” 

Ty for reading <3 

As always, I am unable to respond to replies so please show your support for my writing with reblogs, asks, or even dms! 

Feel free to read my carrd to keep track of requests or masterlists! 

[soleilnomoon]

i would love to place an order for Meringue Cookies, Dark Chocolate, Jelly Beans, Candy Necklace, & Blan Manje, with Caramel & Honey. Side menu # 1 for Boa or Nami. either is fine! with a g/n reader! These stories are a blast to read!

anon i am so so sry this took forever 😭💕💕💕 but i finally finished and i'm actually happy with it; also ty for requesting, i love boa hancock sfm i wish more ppl wrote for her.

4.3k words, gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst angst angst bc that's how i vibe & smut, and if you squint real hard there's some fluff somehow i think. hancock is a brat as usual and reader ain't shit, but they go great together <3 feat. cute things like oral (f receiving), fingering, a lil bondage, hair pulling, some pussy slapping, more stuff that idr anymore ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა (if u see grammar/spelling errors no u didn't ;_;)

tagging lil’ kaia bc she asked so nicely ❤︎ @cvvor

“our love would be death” — anaïs  nin

sea salt sifts through the wind, warm and fine enough that most don’t notice its intrusion. it lands on your nose and lips, coats your tongue when you exhale through your mouth; no matter how many times you try to wash away the taste, it still lingers. a persistent annoyance that refuses to leave you alone. it’s a bitter, yet familiar taste — one that fills your heart with memories you’ve long wanted to keep buried. you’re no stranger to heartache, but this is different.

you find that you can never sleep through the entire night without dreaming of your ex — of how you begged them to stay, of how you told them you couldn’t live without them. pathetic, you tell yourself one morning after another restless night — you know you need to find a way to move on, but there’s no way you can, not when you carved so many pieces of yourself to give away without much thought.

what you’re left with is a battered heart that can barely function on its own; it flops pitifully in your chest, rattling against your rib cage weakly. every day it gets harder to breathe, harder to face the truth that you’re all alone — again.

boa hancock doesn’t know why she even fucking bothers, but she can’t seem to stay away from you. it’s a privilege, in her opinion, for you to be graced with her presence, let alone be allowed to touch her intimately. so, when she finds you staring wistfully out of the window, sighing to yourself again she snaps.

“y/n, look at me,” she commands loudly, voice piercing through your body like a thick arrow that keeps you frozen in place. you know better than to disobey her, even though you want to; you know you’re being unreasonable, but the heart always wants what it can’t have, right?

not that she cares about any of that. in her mind, your ex is an ex for a reason. she grabs your face with her hand, squeezing tightly, delicate brows furrowed together as irritation drips down her spine. she could easily kill you and you know it. “i’m the most beautiful woman in the world,” she boasts, although there’s something melancholic about the way she says it.

you narrow your eyes at her, mouth moving before you can think better of it. “and what of it?” it’s not often that you challenge her like that, but today you’ve had enough of her games, of constantly catering to her whims and desires, of her veneer that she insists on keeping even when she’s alone with you.  

it dawns on her then what the actual problem is. “you’re still in love with them.” anger seeps through her pores, and she knows if she doesn’t walk away soon, she might say or do something she’ll possibly regret.

you flinch, eyes widening — she’s not entirely wrong, but she’s not right either. you’re just stuck in limbo, unable to move on because you refuse to do so; after seeing them so happy with someone else, you can’t fathom finding any sort of happiness yourself. so, you cling onto the past, even when it threatens to destroy your present life.

for some reason, this pisses you off — that hancock is so much more perceptive than people give her credit for; that she’s not afraid to tell you the truth, despite how your friends sugarcoat everything for you. the rage that’s bubbled deep inside of you for months finally pushes out; you can barely think or see properly, and you forget yourself when you practically shout back at her.

“and you’re just jealous because for once, you’re not the focus of my attention.” you’re not sure why you say it, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like shit.

there’s rarely a moment where hancock finds herself in absolute shock, but your venomous words cut into her bruised ego with vigor. it's a harsh reality that she refuses to accept, so she lashes out at you again.

“you’re pathetic.” her tone is cold, and she steels her face enough that she almost looks bored with you. hancock releases her hold on you and swivels on her heels to walk away. you don’t bother calling after her, but she pauses in her gait to look over her shoulder at you. “i’m done playing with you, get out of my sight.”

the dismissal is the first slap of many and her insistence on blatantly keeping her back turned while she ignores you is another. something in you breaks, but you know you’ve angered the pirate empress enough for one day. you don’t hesitate before scrambling to your feet and leaving her alone. after you close the door, you hear a shriek that’s accompanied by what sounds like a large vase shattering. you don’t bother checking on her, because you know you’re not wanted in her presence right now.

you should’ve seen this coming. one doesn’t simply think about another lover while in the presence of boa hancock; it’s absurd and theatrical, but it’s an unspoken rule that you keep breaking over and over. in the back of your mind, you know you should go make things right with her, but you just don’t know how.

hancock’s frustration continues to build throughout the day. she doesn’t know why someone — you, a commoner who should be groveling at her feet daily — can be so insolent without remorse. she’s smashed several expensive sculptures, shredded her mattress and bed sheets with large scissors, and cursed out every staff member in kuja palace. her anger only intensifies when she hears someone whisper your name, so she locks herself in her bedroom, refusing meals or assistance from anyone.

you’ve always thought that the pirate empress was annoying, self-centered, and unnecessarily mean without reason. you’ve told her this on several occasions, stunning her into silence — a feat that most cannot achieve. hancock would normally sentence someone to death for those sorts of callous remarks, but for some reason she spares you. maybe it’s because despite her incomparable, unrivaled beauty, you don’t helplessly pine after her.

and she absolutely hates that about you.

hancock’s not someone who’s used to being treated like a regular person, and yet that’s what you do to her. you barely hold any reverence for her, give her the minimal amount of respect owed as a citizen of amazon lily, and you don’t flinch when she threatens you publicly. most are afraid to be associated with you, out of fear for incurring the snake princess’ wrath — not that you care, you’ve known that your personality can’t be tolerated by most because you tend to happily go against the grain.

you’ve always found her beauty to be intense and intoxicating — imposing like the sun, forcing a heat to surge through you that has yet to dissipate. you hate that your attraction to her impedes your daily life, especially when you’re plagued by dueling thoughts of her and your ex. you’re barred from entering the palace, and you’re thankful for it as you don’t know how you’d be able to face hancock after all that you’ve said. you know that you should apologize profusely, but a woman like hancock requires something extravagant and elaborate — something that’ll prove that your adoration and loyalty is genuine and not forced.

the first few days are relatively easy; you work tirelessly to keep your mind and body busy, and you’re so exhausted by the end of the day that you sleep without dreaming. when a week passes, you start to notice that certain things are off; you didn’t make it a habit of frequenting the palace that often, but you were there enough that the staff didn’t give you a hard time when you showed up unannounced. you tell yourself that distance is good — it means you’ll be able to finally focus on the things that are important to you.

but, when you sit and think about it, you’re not quite sure if that’s entirely true.

after the second week, you start getting antsy. your friends keep pestering you, asking why your mood keeps shifting day to day — you’re intolerable and grouchy, snap at minor things and make mistakes all day. your heart, as tired and as worn out as it is, still skips a beat when you think about hancock despite what you try to tell yourself when you’re alone. somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that the only reason why you’re thinking about her, is because you miss fucking her.

the lie is tough to digest, but you keep repeating it and sooner or later you’ll believe it, right?

soon, everything reminds you of her.

on a warm night, a small festival is held, and you wander around listless and slightly tipsy. memories of the first time you met boa hancock — outside of all the fanfare that her royal title awards her — plague you relentlessly. you remember the warmth from that night, similar to this one; you remember how highly oppressive and unbearable the humidity was; and you also remember that you were on your third drink when you unceremoniously bumped into the pirate empress.

at first, her sisters demanded you apologize, but you were annoyed and had just been dumped so you chose audacity instead.

hancock’s irritation was evident, despite her not saying much — and it wasn’t until your rambling struck a nerve that she fired back. it was the first time he’d let her walls down, and her sisters watched in shock as both of you went back and forth over nothing. hancock called you all sorts of terrible names, and you sneered and laughed in her face. the fact that you weren’t cowering in fear or salivating over her beauty set her skin on fire in a way she didn’t understand.

you remember her dismissing the other gorgon sisters, insisting that she’d be able to handle you on her own. and she did, in a way. if anyone were to ask her about that time, hancock would easily admit that she regrets meeting you that night — but it would be a lie. the only thing she regrets is allowing you to infiltrate her heart, to settle without permission, to make her feel less than when she knew she was anything but.

her brattiness is unappealing on the surface and you normally wouldn’t be attracted to a woman who boldly wears such an ugly personality with pride. somehow, hancock has made the trait endearing to you, in a strange way; she’s so unapologetic with her behavior, that you find it rather comical. why people take her seriously is beyond you.

but, despite all of that, you do miss her.

you miss seeing the way her nose would scrunch and wrinkle when she was disgusted with something insignificant and minute; you miss kissing her in the middle of arguments and watching her easily melt underneath your touch; but you mostly miss hearing her complain about your lack of etiquette, about how odd she finds your views on the world, and about how you see her more clearly than anyone else on the island.

that sort of vulnerability terrifies her, and it’s why she’s been so miserable without you.

her sisters pay you a visit one morning and implore you to talk some sense into hancock. they tell you about how her temper tantrums have gotten uncontrollable (even for them) and how she barely eats or bothers leaving the palace these days. that bit surprises you, as hancock thrives off the validation from the populace. at first you mean to refuse them, but when you take note of how marigold anxiously fidgets with the gold bracelet around her wrist and the way sandersonia has dark circles under her eyes, you give in.

after taking a long, long soak in the bath, hancock pads back to her room naked, deciding to keep the windows open so she can air dry properly. you find her shortly after, out of breath from running over to the palace; she didn’t lock her door — and why should she? she’s the empress, after all — so you enter her room with ease. because she’s been so out of it lately, she’s been sluggish in her reactions to certain things; especially since she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

with the door shut and locked behind you, hancock’s mind clears a bit; she blinks slowly, her dark eyes honed on you, taking in your thick thighs and toned body. as usual, hancock’s face only features an impassive expression, and she keeps her tone flat when she addresses you.

“why the hell are you in my bedroom?” she grabs the silk robe that’s draped over her mattress and puts it on in a rush.

before you can answer her or move closer, she picks up a large pillow and chucks it at you in the hopes that you’ll get the hint and leave her alone. you sidestep the attack, lips pressed together as you hold back a laugh; she can’t honestly think that a pillow will stop you, can she? hancock keeps throwing things, anything within her reach that isn’t nailed down to the floor or wall. you try to reason with her, try to make your way closer, but stop when you see the way her lips quiver.

she keeps fumbling with tying her robe properly, keeps looking down at her trembling fingers — the same ones that have tugged on your hair more times than you can count — but still she won’t say anything else to you.

after a minute, hancock manages to compose herself once again, her lips pressed tightly together as she fights the urge to berate herself for looking weak in front of you — as if you care about any of that. your silence compels her to swiftly make her way towards you, long legs shimmering in the sunlight, captivating you so much that you forget you’re supposed to be angry with her.

“look at you,” she stands tall, her pride giving her the confidence she needs to verbally tear you apart. “you’ve come begging for my forgiveness, right?” she doesn’t wait for you to respond and simply flips her hair over her shoulder before continuing. it’s all she can do to keep her composure around you; she knows if she gives you even a fraction of an inch, you’ll take a whole damn mile. “i should have you gutted for entering the palace without permission. you should know your damn place.” while her words are harsh, her delivery doesn’t quite match the expression on her face. maybe it’s because you haven’t taken your eyes off of her since you entered her room; or, maybe it’s because she’s standing much closer than necessary but can’t physically move herself away.

did you cast a spell on her without her knowledge?

while her eyes do narrow at that possibility, she highly doubts that you could, as there’s no one on amazon lily that doesn’t succumb to her treacherous beauty. but you continue to defy her expectations and you never know when to quit. which is why she just wants to grab you by the neck and toss you out the window; maybe if she actually kills you this time, she’ll be done with you forever.

except, she could never bring herself to harm you — not really. so she continues with her rant, reminding you that you’re beneath her, that you should be happy someone like her gave you any attention at all, but the more she talks, the more you want her to just shut the hell up.

“you’re right,” you say, cutting her off without remorse or any regards for your own safety, “and i deserve all of that,” and possibly more, but you don’t add that bit in. it becomes a little difficult to focus, what with hancock watching you with a different kind of intensity than you’re used to. “i… should’ve just explained myself properly before. but, more importantly,” you decide to take a risk and gently grab her by the hips.

silence wraps around her, blending into her thoughts, warping her perception of everything that’s happening. your hand is warm — much too warm, hot almost; she can feel the heat through the flimsy fabric as she presses her body closer to yours. whatever it is you want to tell her doesn’t matter — maybe she’ll pester you about it all later, but right now all she wants is you.

so, you give in and allow yourself to be more selfish than usual.

when your lips brush against hers, she completely comes alive — the longing you both felt for weeks, the irritation and unsaid words, they all prompt her to wrap her arms around your neck. it’s something short of a loving embrace, but you know better. your kiss goes from slow and tender to something much more fevered and enthusiastic; her lips are soft and supple, wholly inviting and terribly mesmerizing. you back her against the wall as she threads her fingers through your hair, tugging on it roughly, her patience practically nonexistent from all her wanting. you laugh at her in between kisses, breath warm against her skin — a feat that simultaneously annoys and arouses her — and remind her to play nice.

when she tugs on your hair again, you bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but run your tongue along the miniature wound to soothe the sting. she inhales sharply, the pain not noticeable, but the way you suck on her lip makes her head spin while also leaving her breathless.

 a woman like hancock doesn’t beg, but when you grab her ass roughly — aggressive, yet completely undoing — she lets out a whimper so pathetic she’s almost ashamed of herself.

she should slap you, but all she does is roll her hips forward once you spread her legs and run your fingers against her folds. in a fit of desperation, to excuse her reactions, she tells herself that it’s because she hasn’t been touched in so long — but deep down she knows the truth; she knows it’s because there’s no one else she’d rather have here with her, and that is a terrifying revelation. still, she’s very receptive to your touch, her back arching as soon as you spread her with your fingers.

her arousal drips down slowly, and while you’d love to take your time with her, you also know that if you don’t hurry up you might actually lose your mind. you trail kisses down the length of her neck, and hancock presses her lips together to keep from making any more embarrassing noises. it’s ridiculous the way her body can easily be commanded by you without much effort; she wants to hate you for leading her down this path, but she can’t ever bring herself to do so.

love makes people incredibly foolish and tender indeed.

“that won’t do,” you remark lightly, gliding your fingers back and forth, barely grazing her clit. her breathing stops momentarily when you open her robe completely and drop to your knees in front of her. “why are you holding back?” you don’t ask her because you actually want the answer; you ask because you know it’ll annoy her greatly.

you tease her entrance with your fingers and a shiver fires through her entire body; with her lips parted, you strain your ears a bit, but you hear through her all of her light panting, her softly saying please, please, please. she’s trying so hard to hold it together, and you commend her for her efforts by inching your fingers inside of her slowly. hancock’s façade finally shatters, and you hear her moan audibly as you plunge your fingers in and out of her pussy. you love the way she clenches around your fingers — warm and tight, soft in a way that just doesn’t make sense to you — and the way she moves her hips once your tongue playfully swirls around her clit.

you drape her long, shapely leg over your shoulder and scissor your fingers inside of her pussy; you hum against her skin, thoroughly enjoying the way her chest heaves and how she can’t seem to stop moaning your name.

if only she was always this compliant.

a heat passes through your body as her nails rake against your scalp, and if you weren’t so hellbent keeping her steady, she’d probably fall over by now. you eat her pussy with vigor, swapping your fingers for your tongue; you thrust it inside without remorse, and she quickly becomes a whimpering mess as she chants “yes, yes, yes.” you mean to tell her to keep it down, but a part of you also enjoys it when she lets go and gives into her desires. you don’t want to get caught, but the thrill of it incites you to lap at her pussy — greedy and eager, as if it’s the most savory meal you’ve ever had. her wetness drips down your chin, glistening along your lips but you don’t stop.

she watches you in a trance, unsure if she’ll ever be able to let you go after this. possessive by nature, hancock never thought she’d find herself in this sort of position, but there she is, completely under your spell. every swipe of your tongue brings her closer and closer to the edge — a dangerous dance that she does without thinking. she brings her free hand to cup and knead one of her breasts — hefty and round, moaning repeatedly, voice already straining as she shamelessly rides your face.

you love it, though and when you suck on her clit roughly, lightning wraps around her veins, time slowing down around her, causing her vision to blur. she’s so wound up, that the orgasm takes her completely by surprise — her hips buck wildly and you hold her firmly as you work your fingers back into her pussy. you pull away just to give her a haughty look — one that she catches by accident through her tear-stained lashes — voice low and husky as you continue teasing her. “you’re doing so good,” you lick her clit hard enough to have her eyes roll back, “do you trust me?”

it's not fair of you to ask her genuine questions right now, but you need to know.

hancock swallows hard, unable to think properly, but answers without hesitation: “y-yes.”

her voice is sweet, much more demure than you’re used to; your heart suddenly feels much too big for your chest, the beats growing louder and thunderous; a dangerous combination when coupled with your cowardice. but you know better than to cower away, so you muster the courage to quietly respond with, “good, i’m glad.”

you’re not sure why you ask her that, but you keep thinking about it when you have her naked on her bed with her hands bound above her. thanks to you, her normally blemish-free skin is littered with bite marks and dark red bruises — small and harmless, but you do feel a sliver of remorse when you realize she’ll have to cover herself up for a bit when she’s outside of the palace. you tell her she’s a masterpiece worthy of exhibition, and she tells you that you’re insolent for stating the obvious.

she’s so beautiful and vulnerable in this position — flushed cheeks, tears in her eyes, legs shaking as they’re spread wide for you; her pussy is swollen after you slapped it a few times when she gave you lip a few minutes ago. out of habit, hancock wants to run her mouth again when you hover over her, but her words never come out. she looks up at you, silently wondering why you keep coming back to her. the melancholy that accompanies those thoughts is heavy enough to make her want to cry, so she ignores it. she wraps her legs around you as you rock your hips against hers, cunt still dripping — eager and inviting.

fucking hancock is like being trapped in a feverish dream, one where you fall over and over, unable to predict if you’ll survive in the end. it’s an unending maelstrom — powerful and unpredictable, wild, and all-consuming. sweat pools at your temples, but you don’t slow down until you wrench another orgasm out of her. her voice grows hoarse, and she claws at your chest; you lick the tears off her cheeks and kiss her in a way that deludes her into thinking that she’s your one and only.

when you finally cum, it’s with her name on your lips. your hips stutter and your breath is uneven — for you, your pleasure comes mostly from watching her unravel underneath you. hancock never lets you stay over, but she’s surprisingly soft with you afterwards, even letting you run your fingers through her silky, ink-black hair.

the intimacy scares both of you, but you can’t stop yourself from touching her like that. and even though you’re both sticky and sweaty, skin burning in a way that doesn’t make sense, you still stay close to one another.

she opens her mouth several times, the compulsion to curse you out for driving her mad grows weaker as time passes. she watches you fall asleep and she admires your features without restraint. she refuses to tell you that you’re much more attractive than she’d like you to be; she’d rather you be hideous with a shitty personality, but that’s not the case, is it? she’s hopelessly enamored with you, and you with her.

nothing will ever be perfect between the two of you, but you don’t need perfection or superficiality — not with her; you like dealing with the true, raw version of herself. there will be a moment — not now, but in the near future — where you’ll be brave enough to finish your confession; but for now, you keep it to yourself, tucked safely away in your heart, and enjoy the way your limbs are tangled with hers.

[pedge-page]

Feelin a little ⚡️sadistic⚡️today and decided to write an alternate future ending for the Cravings series. This is not part of their canon story, but this one would hypothetically take place after Insatiable as a more realistic turnout. This isn’t a continuation because frankly I don’t have a satisfying, or even full ending to this. Its just a thought.

If you liked the ending of Insatiable and want to remain happy with it, DO NOT READ THIS. This is for masochistic peeps who want some heartbreak. 

Warnings: only brief mentions of smut but otherwise, this just a downward spiral of worse case scenarios. Some warnings are spoilers so the only one I’m going to list here is drug use and toxic behavior.— I also did very little research here on actual repercussions of drug charges, rehab, or anything really, so please take all of it with less than a grain of salt and focus on the feels

Again DONT READ IF YOU LOVED THE ENDING TO INSATIABLE. this will ruin everything :)

- - - -

You stare at the empty apartment that had become your home for the last two years. That had been filled with so much love, so much laughter and joy. So much insatiable sex and warmth. It’s incredible how much more spacious the floor really is when all the furniture had been removed, how bright the walls really are without any hanging and photos. Despite its small size, it worked just perfectly for you and the man you love. Two years. Memories you could never swipe away despite the cold vacancy of the apartment now, even with the promise of a boundless and full future ahead.

Your hand gently caresses over the hefty bump that has made its own home in you for some months. You sooth your baby’s little kicks, smiling, a tear welling in your eye but you dare not shed it. 

You were ready to start the next phase of your life. The one with a home to call your own, a front porch to rock your baby on, a full kitchen to make a true Thanksgiving feast, a bedroom suite, and then extra rooms for a growing family.

You were ready to start your life.

A life without Frankie Morales. 

 - 

You should have known then. With the signs so blatantly evident, like quick temper, aggressive nature in his love making, obsessiveness over you, the jealousy. The way he took too much pride in constantly leaving marks on you. Subtle threats to other men who misinterpreted your kind smile and words as an invite. Forcing you to stay in bed, to take his cock deep into your battered cunt even when you were exhausted. You both thought your orgasms was your way of wanting more, even if the rest of your body protested. but he filled your ears with such sweet praise, touched you with a fervent love that made your heart flutter, adored you like no one else.

From the day you told him you loved him, you should have stopped then, seeing how far he had gone just without you. It wasn’t healthy to rely on someone like that. To say sober. Frankie’s dependence on you was…corrupt. It had been from the beginning.

You ignored it. 

Then Frankie and the boys, including Tom which you were surprised by, were called down for a less than legit mission. Tom didn’t come home, and Frankie, the one you knew, didn’t quite come home the same. He didn’t talk to you about it, ever. None of the guys did. You just held him for hours the night he got back, his hair whiter, eyes more sunken in than ever. After some time, things went back to normal. Until you realized, they were never normal to begin with.

The first evident sign that life wasn’t a hallmark movie anymore was when you had been stuck in traffic during a storm, and then had to pull off for hours until it passed; you couldn’t get a signal out to your boyfriend that you were safe, but going to be home late.

3 hours passed by the time you walked into the apartment. Warm Frankie, gentle Frankie, happy Frankie… wasn’t home.

Instead it was feral Frankie, desperate Frankie, curled in a corner, pale and shaking Frankie who only cracked a timid smile when you had walked in, drenched in rain, but alive and concerned for him. He immediately bear hugged you tight, the jitters passing as he inhaled your wet scent. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise. I’m so sorry I’m so late,” you soothed.

He didn’t let you leave his sight the entire night. And even into the morning, when you had to get up for work again, he held you against his body in bed, refusing to let you part, distracting you with sex over and over again until half the day had passed. He texted your boss saying you were out sick from the rain last night. No biggie.

He was only calm when you were around. Only satisfied when you were with him. 

The guys never told you, but he was irritable when it was just him with them. He didn’t like talking as much. Didn’t laugh the way he used to. It’s like the real Frankie only came out when you were there. 

And when you had to take a week for a work trip, he begged you to cancel it. Clawed at his own skin as the day of your flight crept up. Visibly anxious enough that you weren’t sure he’d be okay. “Just stay home, Querida. Please.” 

But he’s a grown man. It’s just a little trip, and he’s one phone call away.

So when the week went by, and he missed a few of your calls towards the end, you came home, worried about what you might find. But you were delighted to see Frankie was, in fact, in high spirits, healthy, and seemingly unaffected by your absence. “Mi Hermosa,” he whispered against your lips, bringing you in his embrace and rocking you gently. You made love sweetly that night, and you started to wonder what it is you were so afraid of.

It took you a few weeks before you noticed the slight powdery trail of cocaine on the handle of his gun safe. And guessing the combination as your birthday, discovering bags full of the stuff, some stored and some half opened, and re-opened, half depleted.

You couldn’t even call Frankie, who was away—you didn’t really know where. He would just up and leave sometimes now. Your heart dropped at the idea of exactly where he’s been bouncing off to. You realized he was more static for your the frequent trips you were taking due to your career taking off. that the two of you were spending less time together, but you weren’t really aware of exactly what he was doing during that time. He clearly was never high when he was around you, and was adept at hiding his problem when you were home.

You called the boys. Santi came running over, swearing repeatedly in Spanish at the sight of the stash. Benny and Will came over too, clearing it all out while you sobbed into Pope’s arms. How could you be so stupid to think it was all going so well?

It then all happened so fast: you weren’t even there when they confronted Frankie, didn’t know it went over badly, that he wasn’t gentle at all, still blown high as fuck, and fists went flying, bloody knuckles and broken noses later. Then getting an immediate court date, not able to come up to see you for a second. You were there in the room, only seeing the wrecked look all over his body, the way he couldn’t even bring his eyes to you. 

He plead guilty to his drug charges, lost his license indefinitely, and was only spared from a prison sentence with the promise of extensive treatment at a rehab center for at least a year, and a large bond, that you and the guys poured a shit ton of your life savings in to. Then Frankie was being husked away to his hospital-like prison, with no visitations until the first year of intense treatment passed.

It was all coming at such a bad time too, having just thrown out the 3 positive pregnancy tests in the dumpster behind the apartment building just this morning. 

None of you told Frankie about the baby before he left. You asked them not to. As far as today went, including Frankie in your life, in your baby’s life, wasn’t an option at the moment. You would deal with that when he was out, when he was Frankie again.

-

Now a few months since the incident, 7 months pregnant, you packed the apartment quietly minus your little sniffles. Pictures of the of you at the fair, in a museum, on vacation in Miami, were packed in a cardboard box and sealed away until you could find your home again. His furniture and belongings went into storage for the time being while your parents found a little house that could accommodate you and baby Morales. With one last look, you close the apartment door, breathing heavily. You hope to see Frankie again the moment he was allowed visitors. To see him smile again just for you. To come to a new home and see his baby boy growing, and filling the time he missed with an infinity of love, devotion, and health.

So when you gave birth all by yourself, and fended two jobs while nurturing your baby all by yourself, and strapped the infant in the car as you drove 4 hours to the rehab center to see your boyfriend all by yourself, it didn’t feel—good, to be told Frankie specifically requested not to have any visitors today. And even when you tried to argue with the receptionist about the situation, to give him your name specifically, she came back with the same answer, and said the patient has a right to refuse visitation, even after it is permitted. 

Santi stays with you for a few days after, given what an absolute exhausted wreck you had become after braving the whole year and only running on sheer hope this whole time. The guys rotated shifts, fed you and the baby, cleaned, let you sleep your depression away until you were ready to move on. 

Frankie denied their visitation too.

Another year goes by, and still no Frankie. He had gone completely off the grid for everyone. All the doctors reported was that he was responding well, fully taking charge and utilizing the time that he needed to get clean. You learned that he had found a place to live in the area and regularly returned for treatment. But he never once contacted any of you to where he lived.

Good. You were doing much better too.

And when the third year goes by, celebrating your son’s second birthday, you don’t feel such guilt when you stumble upon a new man and invite him in to your life. And how much he takes to loving a son who isn’t his own. And when you feel a sense of excitement after a long time without it, when the new love of your life gets on his knees to propose, asking you to continue to fill his life with a home to share. And when you’re pregnant with another baby, your little Francisco being so excited to be a big brother, in the new house that had never breathed the same air as the man who left you behind all that time ago.

It does become a problem when you answer the knocks on your front door, swinging it open to a very frail, very thin, and very remorseful looking Francisco Morales standing there, looking at the swell in your stomach, wedding ring on your finger, and carbon copy of himself as a child standing at your hip.

- - - -

sorryyyyy

[darling-i-read-it]

The Mistress

Harry Gardner x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: smut (blowjob), cheating, sex in a public bathroom literally while his family is in the other room (who am i) 

Author’s Note: Hi love! Sorry this took so long! I feel like I went with the slightly creepy route straight into a bj lmao so I hope you like it. I don’t know how I feel lmaoo

Requested by anon, Happy to hear you're doing well, hun! I'm so excited to see your upcoming pieces because these most recent two are absolute gems 💗(I'm a big GTA and RE fan what can I saw I was overjoyed to see them 🤭)

Don't mind me with another Harry request (my sincere apologies, I'm obsessed 😌) I had this potentially spicy plot in mind - Harry x fem!reader. When he sees her being flirty with someone but cannot let his jealousy show since his wife is like RIGHT there. But still makes sure to let her know how much she upset him later on 😉 Take your time with this sweetie and if you don't feel like writing it that's totally ok too! 🤗 Thank you for gracing this site with your lovely works and making my day with them as well. Take care and have a wonderful day/night ~ Addie ❤

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Harry’s love for his wife was obligatory. The love he had for her was necessary, to keep their family going. He had created a space where he could comfortably do his job and be seen as successful. He had the wife, the house, and the kid. He had the room to grow and the means to do it. 

But you…you were not a want. You were a need. You were alluring in his worst times, gorgeous in his best. He could watch you move for hours and wonder what it was about you that entranced him. He could picture you from the bed as you slipped your clothes on and the memory filled his entire eyesight. He could see nothing else but you when you were there. 

You were like one of the people he wrote about. You were unreal. He couldn’t live without you now. 

“You’re starring,” your voice broke him from his thoughts. Sometimes he forgot you were actually there. You sat on the side of the bed, arms moving with grace down to your feet. You put your socks on, side eyeing him. “Everything alright?” 

“Uh huh.” He was in a shitty motel with sheets that he knew hadn’t been washed in far too long. 

“H?” You sat up straight. He grabbed your hand, shaking his head. 

“I’m fine,” he promised. You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. 

“You have to get back.” The time schedule he was on was brutal. Sometimes he wondered if the life he had was even worth all this. Couldn’t he just live here with you forever? The misery of his demonic child and his never ending wife seemed like a hell he had trapped himself in. When had he wanted that? “Henry.” 

“I’m here. I swear. I just don’t want to leave you.” Your face read the emotions he was feeling. You didn’t want to leave either but someone had to. If this thing was to be sustainable, you had to go. 

“I never thought I’d be here you know,” you muttered. Even your voice sounded melodic. “In bed with a married man. Jesus. What would my mother say?” He felt a pang of guilt but not for the person who he should’ve. He had put you in this position. You could’ve been living a life with a free man, someone to show you off to the world. Instead you were in shitty hotels by the ocean, the salt coming in through broken window frames. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You shook your head. 

“It’s alright. We’re in this boat together, hm?” He grabbed your hand and held it. The hand that had just been all over him, the hand that had felt every inch of his body. You must have been thinking about it too because you kissed him gently. A goodbye kiss. He wanted to curse, to beg you to stay. He didn’t. 

“I need to write you into a story,” he said against your lips. 

“Oh yeah? The girl who never got what she wanted?” 

“The girl who could get whatever she desired.” 

“That sounds better than my thing.” You smiled gently. “I’ll see you later?” He nodded, a promise he was sure to keep. He hoped he wouldn’t see you around town before that, for the sake of his life. For the sake of yours! You stood up. “I’m excited to read what you write me into. Hopefully a better situation than this.” 

You thought about the character of you and envied her. You would be her one day, you hoped. 

-

She was like fire if it never spread. Her silence was dangerous, the presence of her was terrifying. Electrifying was an understatement. She was the lightning that made electricity. She was the origin, the start, the very being that could bring down trees with a touch. She was-

“What’re you writing?” Doris’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. His initial reaction scared him a bit and he tried to be more caring. 

“Nothing. Nothing, I don’t think anyway.” He shut his computer. 

“Are we still going out to dinner?” 

“Yes. Yeah, sorry, time got away from me.” He got up from the chair. Doris was standing beside Alma who had her coat and shoes on already. She was giving Harry a look of disinterest, similar to her mothers. But Doris at least tried to cover it with a feign emotion, one he couldn’t grasp. “Coming.” 

They piled into the car and were quickly arriving at a small diner. The small diners in Provincetown were stereotypical and uninteresting. There was little local color and little locals. He saw you the second he walked in, like you had attracted his eyes like a magnet. You were sitting at the counter, a milkshake between your hands. Your hair fell in front of your eyes a bit as a smile played on your face. His eyes followed to the waiter you were speaking to. A man about your age, sharing your smile. The jealousy in him was surprising. He didn’t own you. 

But he wanted to. 

You hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe he could convince Doris to leave and go somewhere else. 

“Right here. You’re the newer family right? Big house on the water?” Their waitress said, gesturing to the table. Doris had been speaking and he hadn’t even noticed. 

“Yes ma’am,” Harry responded. 

“We don’t get lots of visitors here, except for the writers.”

“My husbands the writer,” Doris explained. At the mention of the topic, you turned your head ever so slightly. Your eyes locked for just a moment, zero panic in your face. It was like you didn’t even know him. You turned your head back to the waiter behind the counter. 

“What kinds of things do you write?” the waitress asked. 

“Screenplays.” “Anything I’ve seen?” 

“Not yet,” Doris promised. You were too distracting. He couldn’t stay here with you. His phone buzzed and he knew it was you. He checked it obsessively, turning it towards him so that Doris and Alma couldn’t see. 

I’m sorry, you texted. He didn’t answer. 

“Can I get you started with some waters?” 

His eyes flickered to you. Smiling at the waiter, a gentle comradery. It made him sick. 

“Yes please,” Doris said. She watched him and his discomfort but couldn’t find the source of it. The waitress left, leaving them alone, without a buffer between him and you. He opened up his phone again, staring at the message. You should leave. Why weren’t you leaving? “Everything okay?” 

He couldn’t hear what you were saying but he could see your hand brushing the waiters. Closer to your age, likely not married. Attainable. You could have something attainable. He glanced at Doris and nodded curtly. 

“I just need to go to the bathroom.” He got up, loudly. She scoffed, nodding. 

“Okay.” He pushed past you. Your eyes followed him as he turned the corner. You looked back at the waiter. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the little girls room.” You slid off the stool with a small smile and left your milkshake. You turned the corner and knocked on the men's bathroom door. It opened quickly. It was the type of bathroom that was private, without stalls. Just two rooms. 

Harry grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. He shut the door and locked it behind you. 

“I didn’t know you would be here,” you argued. He was standing so close to you, practically pining you to the door. 

“Who was that?” 

“Who was who?” 

“Don’t act coy,” he spat. You had never seen him so angry, jealousy practically dripping from his eyes. 

“The waiter? He’s a friend.” 

“That all?” “Harry, we can't do this right now. Your family is outside. Come on, we’ll talk later.” You made no movement. He starred, at you, at your features, the ones he could always find comfort in. He grabbed your wrist. “Harry?”

“Get on your knees.” 

You raised an eyebrow but the look in his eyes was too alluring to argue. He was usually gentle and guiding through sex, always careful with you even when he was rougher. You didn’t mind the demanding tone in his voice. You slinked down the door, onto your knees. You looked up at him. 

He was gazing down at you, his hand cupping your chin. You waited to see what he would do. Was he being so daring because his family was out there? Had you crossed a line neither of you had dared to verbalize? 

You put your hands on his waistband. He nodded, ushering you along. You undid his belt and fought with his jeans to pull them down. It didn’t take long for him to get hard at the adrenaline of the moment and you sitting before him. You pumped with your hand, staring up at him still. 

You wanted to tell him the waiter meant nothing. But actions spoke louder than words. You wrapped your lips around him, eyes locked, a glaze over his. He was staring at you like you were a meal. As you moved up and down, bobbing your head back and forth, he grabbed a fist full of your hair. He started to guide you more forcefully, a jealousy lacing his touch. 

You came up for air as minimally as you could. He lasted too long. His family was going to miss him. They would see your lone milkshake and wonder which of you would leave first. There weren’t enough people in this diner to not connect the dots. 

His precum was drooling down your chin. He wanted to fuck you. He knew he didn’t have time. Instead he let you make him cum, swallowing everything you could, making an erotic gagging noise as you did so. His moans came out muffled but clear, head tilted back in pleasure. 

You wiped your mouth, leaning your head against the door. 

“Feel better?” you asked. He scoffed. He helped you up, catching you as you stumbled. He kissed you, tasting himself among your lips. He could stay here with you forever and starve happily. “You go out first,” you muttered. “I’ve gotta wash up.” 

He nodded. He stared at you for a moment longer, brushing your hair out of your face. You locked eyes and the intimacy filled up the bathroom. You wanted to kiss him again but knew you had no time. You would have to let him go, just this once. 

“Thanks,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Anytime H.” You slithered away from him. “Pull your pants up and go back to your family.”

[seiberries]

august with isagi yoichi : short fic

isagi yoichi x fem!reader (hurt, bittersweet end)

warnings: none but it’s 3am and i’m listening to folklore + isagi is aged up for convenience sake / listen to: august - taylor swift

salt air, and the rust on your door i never needed anything more whispers of "are you sure?" "never have i ever before"

it was a windy day, your families had decided to go to the beach. two kids of six years, he was your best friend. isagi yoichi had been with you since diapers. even your baby cribs matched, a result from a sale your parents couldn’t help themselves from.

you shivered as your feet touched the cool sea, your senses reacting to the foreign feeling. the yellow sundress you sported felt like it would blow away from the salt air’s breaths. you were scared inside, it was your first time moving into a water form this large. it seemed like it was gonna eat you whole.

isagi reached out his hand to you as bravely walked towards your fear. you took the hand he gave you, feeling reassured at the contact.

“are you sure? we could always go back!” the boy smiled.

“i’m sure, chi!” you had never done this before, but your knight in swimming trunks made it feel possible. you played together all day, enjoying the special time the universe gifted.

but i can see us lost in the memory august slipped away into a moment in time 'cause it was never mine

twenty years passed since that magical day, two young adults, twenty-six years of age. you worked an office job as a promising young executive, and he was an internationally known football player. you followed the paths you knew you were both destined for, the roads that called you. things were how you’d always imagined them to be,

except that your roads went two completely different directions.

you didn’t accept that until six years ago. the year you turned twenty was when you broke up with isagi.

and i can see us twisted in bedsheets august sipped away like a bottle of wine ‘cause you were never mine

six years ago, you woke up to an empty bed, again. it had been like this every single day for the last year. what started as once in awhile became all the time, and your loneliness had turned into an even bigger feeling of neglect. despite just having woken up, you felt tired once more. a painful silence filled the room you occupied.

he has to go to practice; a sentence that became a default in your mind whenever your tears started to form. you told yourself you’d never make choose between you and his dream. he’d gone on and on about it since he knew how to talk, he really loved football. you distinctly remember him teaching you terms in his room whenever you’d come over, his eyes shined brighter than the stars. you’d be evil to take that away from him.

you just wished he’d be there in the morning. you wish he’d actually read your texts instead of just skimming through them. you wish he’d take you out on a date, just once a month or two. you deemed yourself selfish but... you wish he was more of a boyfriend than just the title.

it was then you thought, you never had isagi in the first place. a tear rolled down your cheek, followed by another, and another- until you sobbed into your twisted bedsheets that you both used to lay in together.

the striker belonged to his dreams, and his dreams belonged to him. where were you supposed to fit? the dam inside you burst. you couldn’t do this anymore. not one bit.

you broke up with him when he arrived back to your apartment later at night. it lead up to fight of “whys” and “hows”, he was so stubborn your blood boiled. you knew him to be calm and rational but, it all went out the window when it came to his career. he couldn’t understand you, therefore you couldn’t him. the air was tense and stuffy, your chest felt incredibly clogged.

isagi’s hand that once held yours into the sea had let go, leaving you to drown with no way to breathe. it ended as you walked away from your shared home.

your back beneath the sun wishin' i could write my name on it will you call when you're back at school? i remember thinkin' i had you

forward again to six years later, you sat in front of your office desk typing a report. suddenly, you recalled that day, twenty years ago. didn’t it happen at around this time?

images started flashing, your mind acting as a projector. it was as if you were having a movie screening, for your eyes and heart only.

you noticed how the sun shined the way it did back then through the glass window panels of the building, exactly like that. it made you smile a bit as a plunge of nostalgia hit you, almost offensively. the memory you spent with a boy you once knew played like an old film.

but i can see us lost in the memory august slipped away into a moment in time 'cause it was never mine

what was he doing now, you pondered. visiting a far away memory, you could remember it all- the little details and the specifics.

you cherish that golden occurrence. it’s enough for this lifetime, that you got the opportunity to love him. the universe was kind enough.

and i can see us twisted in bedsheets august sipped away like a bottle of wine ‘cause you were never mine

twenty years ago, in the month of august, isagi yoichi’s heart belonged to you.

never mine, do you remember?

isagi was yours in that moment. he definitely was.

[hotluncheddie]

How do you feel about a vampire Eddie chubby Steve combo? I have a story idea where Steve and Eddie are connected by bat bites, but with Eddie presumed dead he’s alone Upside Down when he wakes up as a vampire. So he’s trapped there, living but not too happily on monster blood, and every once in a while Steve has monster-filled nightmares that he wakes up from with hunger pains so bad he ends up clearing out his fridge. But like, he always sleeps really well after that because of the food coma? So he just kind of adjusts to it, and by the time Eddie is eventually rescued Steve has put on a decent amount of weight and wears it well, carries himself with confidence… and as a plus, a bigger body means increased blood volume. Eddie is *so smitten,* he just wants to wrap Steve up in soft blankets and feed him cookies and iron rich foods and nom on him forever.

i feel very VERY good about that actually, i love that idea.

this came to mind, it’s maybe not what u were thinking but hehe :3c

it could start as like a physical thing. a prickle at the back of his neck one day, then a tingling in his scars. maybe he finds he’s a lot more thirsty that he ever noticed, so he drinks more water, soda, whatever he can find. then he notices his nightmares are changing, becoming more dreamlike. he’s still in the nightmare of the upside down but he feels a lot more powerful now, his hands strong and nails like claws, able to rip apart demo bats like he never could in waking.

and then it starts to creep up on him, the hunger. he wakes up with it, even after imagining draining bat after bat of sticky black blood. the image sours his appetite at first but then that animal ache always seems to come back tenfold, until he’s not phased at all by the brutality of his dreams. he more phased my the brutality of his appetite. he’s so hungry. he orders bigger portions, finishes people’s half eaten plates, makes more stops to the grocery store because if he has a craving for something he just can’t get it out of his head.

sometimes he comes back to himself in his car, fog clearing, fast food wrappers littered around himself and only the vague notion that he had planned to wait to eat until he got home. but then he’d smelled the greasy aroma and had just had enough time to park before he was ripping into the food, eating by the fistful until he was full and satiated. then he’d sit in his car, panting slightly, licking salt from his fingers and pressing them into his firm gut, feeling the slight pull on his scars. the pleasure pain sending a jolt through his crotch, looking down at the tent in his jeans, cock jumping as he notices how much closer his stomach sits to the steering wheel. sometimes his heavy breathing seems to mix with the sound of another’s, occasionally he swears he hears a faint growl, almost a purr coming from within the car. but he’s always alone, just him and his growing body.

then that could culminate in his emptying the fridge in a haze one night, shirtless and in boxers, that show off the growing swell of his ass, dig into the plush of his inner thighs. his head buried in the fridge. and his fullness takes on a feeling that’s similar to his dreams, a similar quality and sense. he feels powerful and crazed. until the fullness finally hits, leaving him tender and slow. making his way back up to his room at a snails pace, one hand on his engorged stomach, eyelids already drooping. that night it’s the best sleep he’s had in months, heavy and full. no dreams at all. only waking with the ghost of a feeling, of claws scratching lightly over the sensitive swell of his stomach, the memory of that sweet, deep purr in his head.

and then he connects that to eddie somehow? and also starts waking up and eating like that regularly lol.

but eddie would absolute devour steve once he got back. feeding him and feeding off of him. but always so so good for him too, worshiping him. i would love to read more of ur thoughts for this omg

[domain-of-sentience]

ch 39 ramblings (+ HoS analysis)

wow this was the greatest arc of all time huh

(due to length, this post will mainly be a HoS analysis but ill start off with summarizing my feelings about the chapter/arc as a whole)

Summary

in my prior posts i've already mentioned how these chapters had it all: good premise, good cast and character development, actual stakes, immersive and gut-wrenching scenes, the list goes on. lately i've seen people express concerns over Sa and how she compares to the likes of other antagonists like otto but honestly...

i care more about the chess pieces than the ones controlling them

i fucking love seeing characters struggle in the face of adversity. in some of the previous arcs, it felt like the protagonists would always find a way to be one step ahead. but whenever the salt snow cast tried to do the same, they'd end up spraining that metaphorical foot or be pushed many steps back... or just die onscreen 🙈 even if there wasn't true death, there were still lasting consequences

the spectacle was off the charts too. so many scenes were rendered with love and care that sprinkled additional life to these characters, many of whom had lofty dreams that were to end in a whimper than a bang.

and don't get me started on the elden ring ass boss fight and that tense platforming sequence. despite knowing that things were going to be ok somehow, i was able to suspend that thought and immerse myself in what truly felt like despair and isolation

Senti Thoughts (Unceasing)

she had plenty of memorable moments overall. at first i thought the writers were going Too hard on her haughty side, so much so that people were picking on her over it and even the fucking narrator had to jump in

(then i found out this was vita, sorry vita but you're on my list now)

i mean this is the same herrscher who made so many reasonable deductions in the previous chapter. the second time she met kevin she immediately surrendered knowing that she couldn't win. if this Sa was the quantum counterpart to the cocoon of finality then hos would certainly be more cautious, right?

but i think she was fairly confident in two things: the relative power level of Sa and her own natural adaptability to situations, such as the way she cleverly hid herself from Sa's omniscience:

this wasn't Finality that she was contending with, but a fellow rival in the domain of consciousness

Comparison to Vita

she and vita are alike in many ways: their clairvoyance, their eyes, their bird imagery, their selfishness, their love for freedom, their disdain for boredom, their interest in companionship, their struggles with free will, and even this weird tidbit:

i think the only remarkable difference they had was senti's activeness to vita's passiveness

tho, despite their similarities they don't have interesting interactions outside of the mindspace (WHICH BTW always fills me with nostalgia whenever they play that hos bgm)

Freedom, Mind and Body

freedom is one of the core themes of this arc (like, they really beat you in the head over it), but it's an extremely consistent trait for senti's character.

she is not a materialistic person; she would rather simulate the taste of tea in her mind than to experience it for herself. despite being a free spirit, she still has a Restraint that manifests as a mental shackle: an influence from memories that do not belong to her, which still affects her to this day. so who can blame her for always chasing freedom?

but the most interesting thing is this:

it would explain why she could taste the moonrock a long while ago when she didn't know it was rock salt. although, i guess it's largely unnecessary since she can just influence people's consciousness to look however she wants. but y'know, chekhov's gun and all....

also, the 72 transformations is another journey to the west reference!

The Status Quo

did you know senti is a character who hates stagnancy, but is stagnant herself?

she admitted to being stir-crazy in times of relative peace after the great eruption, she was seen pacing around in the country of iron sand while she couldn't do anything else, she'd rather beat up the problem head-on than to brew up a solution. indeed, she is a very active herrscher who likes to mire herself in chaos for the fun of it

ironically she gives away so much Therapy Guidance but she never addresses her own underlying issues, such as her wish for people to genuinely care about her. you can't fight that problem away, so she'd rather ignore it.

she couldn't even give that new body a real chance because it would unravel everything about her. she can't leave her comfort zone at all. even her fighting tactics haven't changed a bit (thanks mhy)

to use an analogy: she is like water. water is versatile and can easily turn into vapor or ice, just as how senti is adaptable and can literally change her physical state. but no matter what form water takes on, it is still molecular water in the end, just as how senti will always be senti

but what happens if water undergoes a chemical reaction and irreversibly changes?

even pseudo-death freaked her out. can you imagine what would happen if her authority diminished completely, or if she was restrained in a corporeal body, or if she was locked up with fuhua in a room forever-

Sentihua Crumbs

you can leave this post now if this isn't your thing

hmmmmmmm

hmmmmmmmmmmm also senti isn't beating the absent father allegations

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

the funny thing is that this arc was so fucking good that i want to go into the next one with ZERO expectations. like i'm not really sure if they can keep this momentum up and so far all of fuhua's appearances since the end of the taixuan arc were.... lackluster at best

but here's to hoping that fuhua and senti have genuinely meaningful interactions that can at least hold a candle to what the seeles got

[vanillaxoshi]

Ok so I honestly always thought that since in age bracket au, Cahaya’s the youngest (for like an actual here) how would his brothers pamper him or how he would interact with them cuz your dealing with a 5 year old, they are quite troublesome

Cahaya with Petir:

“It’s just you and me today huh?!” mumbled Petir as he moved the channels on to glancing his youngest brother who was busy scribbling his book

It was Sunday and apparently all his siblings were busy, making him to stay with his brother atleast for next to 2-3 hours until Tanah and Air returns from shopping (Air was bribed with ice cream)

“Yeah Haya has to babysit an old man” snickered Cahaya

“Who are you calling an old man you little brat!!”

“Abang of course” Cahaya turned to his brother with an eye-roll, “Also- what does brat mean?”

“💢” Petir tries to hold his anger back

After sometime~

Petir looks near his leg as he felt someone pulling them, trying to get his attention

“Abang Haya is hungry” Cahaya whined at his brother with a small face who almost smiled

“*Sighs* Ok I will make something for you”

“Yayyy” UwU

While eating~

“Is it good?” Petir sits next to Cahaya who was eating his fried rice with a gusto

“It’s ok-ok, Haya thinks Abang should have added little less salt and more chillies as-“

Cahaya gets interrupted when a hand slamming makes him flinch and get his attention. He looks at his eldest brother smiling forcefully with a terrifying aura behind him, “How about we just eat what we have here 💢💢”

“O-Ok”

‘It’s really good though’ Cahaya chuckles mentally

After sometime~

“Abang does Abang know how to do this question?”

Cahaya shows Petir his chemistry book. Petir takes the book from his brother’s hand and reads that question, he was confused. He was good with science but that was till high school, he didn’t opt science as his subject even in college. Main question is that how can his brother understand this subject which is filled with exceptions, this subject literally give headache to many students and- is he really five year old??

“I don’t know”

“Abang didn’t study about it?”

“I did but I don’t remember”

“Tch Tch Tch Abang have weak memory power”

“That’s it! 💢💢💢”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh”

“Come back here!!!!! 💢💢💢”

Later~

“We’re back!!” exclaimed Tanah and Air

“What the- did a tornado hit this house??” Tanah was surprised seeing the whole house as a mess, he moves near Air who standing behind sofa and taking picture of his brothers who were hugging and sleeping

Cahaya with Angin:-

“Ahhhhhhhh Abang slow down!!!!!!” Cahaya shouted hugging his brother more tightly as he was sitting in front of him. He was really scared and had started crying while Angin was trying his best to control his over speeding motorcycle. He just thought to have a ride and scare his brother, he never knew he would actually lose control of bike and pray to god for his and his brother’s life-

Basically breaks weren’t working, he was riding his bike with an enough speed to have fun and scare Cahaya a bit but it became worst when he over speeded even when his brother told him not too and they ended up in this situation

After sometime~

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was??” Tanah was furious, he was scolding Angin when Api, Petir, him and some more officers managed to stop the bike without making any of them injured

Angin looked down, letting his younger brother scold him as he was guilty. He felt even more guilty when he saw Cahaya shivering in Petir’s arm, not letting him go and sobbing silently.

Api eventually calms Tanah down, who hugs his brother mumbling how glad he is that they are safe or how much he was scared

Few days later~

Cahaya has been avoiding Angin, he’s just scared of him. He runs away whenever his brother approaches him, making him sad

Cahaya finds himself eating his brother’s cookies in kitchen as he was starving

“I am sorry sunshine” Cahaya was startled when he heard voice. He widens his eyes and looks behind to find his brother standing there. He was sure that he had seen him go out then when did he-?

“Please Haya, I am really sorry!” Angin crouches near Cahaya, holding his hands when he saw the kid trying to escape

“Please don’t hate me! I swear I will never do it again! Please forgive me!”

“Abang, Haya don’t hate Abang! Please don’t cry!” replied Cahaya with teary eyes

“Nonono- don’t cry Haya please- Look look Abang isn’t crying any more!!” saying so Angin lifts Cahaya up and pats his back as he calms down

“Abang Haya was scared that day! Abang drove fast! Haya doesn’t like it”

“I am sorry Haya! I will never ever drive that fast again!!”

(Cahaya always avoided two-wheelers after that day)

Cahaya with Tanah:-

“And this is the reason why Xenon forms compounds with Fluorine”

“Ohhhh Xenon is a different n-nob-uh”

“Noble gas!”

“Yeah! Xenon is a different noble gas!!”

“It’s not different Haya it just behaves uniquely! Like how you do” saying so Tanah pulls his brother’s cheeks who laughs in glee

(-Cahaya asked his doubt from Tanah believing him to be smarter than his older brother 😂)

“Is there something else you wanna learn?”

“Haya want to study Algebra!!”

“You like maths?” Tanah chuckles as he opens Air’s maths textbook

“No! It’s hard” saying so Cahaya pouts, “But Haya needs it to study science!!”

“That makes sense my smart brother” (We all can see now who’s pampering him -_-)

“Haya will become smart like Abang!!”

“Of course you would” ^_^

“Haya loves Abang!!” Cahaya shouts that and laughs cheekily

“Aww Abang loves you too!!”

This one is with Trio Ori, I mean just imagine the gap- 😂 I will write with other three next time- whenever I get some idea

Also I tried my best to make Cahaya speak like a five year old, I just did those additions on the basis of what my mom told me, like how I was….

And Angin’s bike riding incident was what happened between me and my second eldest cousin sister, that traumatized me as well, just after that incident I never sat with her in any vehicle ever again 💀

These are all adorable moments and Angin! How dare you traumatize the child! >:(

Though i really appreciate your effort asking your mom on how five year olds speak

I think you forgot Age bracket Cahaya doesnt really speak at five, because hes technically a non verbal autistic! Tho he does get to speak at around 6 or 7 he still uses non verbal actions/doesnt speak often

Like smacking or poking his brothers to get their attention and dragging them to something, he'd perhaps point at things they want to see or stim whenever hes experiencing big emotions

He'd use writing, like a board or notebook to make them understand what hes saying more, a little example is that moment with Tanah, he'd perhaps jump up and down(or just stay still and listen) at learning the Xenon noble gas or tilt his head to indicate his confusion

He wont particularly make eye contact either, more so he'd avoid it

The motorcycle problem would be scary for any child 😅 Angin. Your brothers are staring deeply at you

He'll also seem like he doesnt want to interact with his brothers bc hed be off on his own in the house but rest assure he loves his brothers there and would cling to them if he ever really needs them there (Cahaya and Petir with that little moment)

If you want more things with autism, you could add in Sensory problems(loud noises, touches/cloth textures or temperature thats not too extreme but feels extreme, bright lights or smells and texture of food which would make him picky tbh)

Either than that, Cahaya's little interactions with his eldest brothers are adorable, Petir really wont try holding back huh and Tanah being the only one with no issues

[scribble-dee-doo]

HAHAAAAA LOOK WHAT I FINISHED FOR DOCTORDONNA WEEK. kind of. i had a whole idea and when i sat down to write it the words didn't want to word so instead there is a SCRIPT! Or a really advanced outline! I want to actually write the fic and fill in the gaps, lol, but until the week is over please accept this placeholder. For now, please enjoy:

DoctorDonna Week 2023, Day 1:

FIRE/GLOW

@doctordonnaweek

1,711 words, full of ALL CAPS as my heart led me and SPOILERS FOR THE DOCTOR WHO 60TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIALS STARTING IN THE FIRST SENTENCE

THE DOCTOR collapses after the events of The Giggle (bi-regeneration sickness, mumble mumble), people are very worried, Doctor-Donna snuggles and the beginning of discussing the rest of their lives together.

INT: WILF’S spare bedroom, night. THE DOCTOR is lying in the full-sized bed under a hideous quilt that may have come from the bottom of TARDIS storage or Sylvia’s linen closet. His SHOES – obviously borrowed from somebody – , COAT, and OTHER ASSORTED are draped over an armoir. He’s wearing his undershirt and is resting uneasily, sweating with a subtle golden sheen to his skin. DONNA enters, juggling a thermometer, cup of tea, and crazy space gadget.

DONNA, to a figure outside of the door

“No, I’ve got him. Really, go stay with Rose. Are you sure I shouldn’t -”

SHAUN, just a shadow in the hall behind the cracked door

“Absolutely. She’s putting on a brave face, but she’s tough. I’ll put on the telly and we can have a cuddle.”

DONNA smiles. She loves this man so.

“Yeah?”

SHAUN

“Yeah, you know she’s worried about him too.”

DONNA leans back out of the door and kisses SHAUN, slowly. It’s a moment of relief, savoring a return to normal with new appreciation for things she already loved more than she thought she could stand. They bump foreheads and smile, looking into each others’ eyes.

DONNA

“I love you.”

SHAUN

“I love you too. Now take care of your spaceman and give us a shout if you need anything.”

DONNA laughs and pecks him on the lips one more time before shutting the door.

~AUTH NOTE: DONNA GETTING SETTLED IN, SHOWING HOW BADLY OFF THE DOCTOR IS~

She runs her hand over the DOCTOR’S forehead the way she’s learned to do as a mother, but forgets about the psychic contact points. When her fingertips brush them, both she and the DOCTOR jolt. The DOCTOR resettles, facing DONNA. DONNA sits back with an expression of focus and then realization.

DONNA, as though recalling a long-buried memory

“Tannins.”

DONNA looks down at her cup of tea. She puts it on the bedside table and starts rearranging, finding another pillow or two and stacking them at the head of the bed before attempting to wrangle THE DOCTOR into sitting more upright. He’s floppy and uncooperative and she scolds him as she’s trying to get her arm behind his shoulders. She presses him forward and he falls so that he’s folded in half, nose on his knees. DONNA pauses in rearranging the pillows, looking at him.

DONNA

“How are you that bendy at your age?”

It occurs to her that, rather than folding comfortably, he may have torn something from being unable to support himself. She rushes to get the pillows in place and resettles him more gently. He exhales a little rush of gold but doesn’t otherwise react.

DONNA, while picking up the tea like a surgical instrument

“Okay, let’s give this a try.”

DONNA gingerly wafts the teacup under THE DOCTOR’S nose like smelling salts. When he doesn’t react, she wafts it more aggressively. She studies him closely after every pass. On the third pass, she accidentally bumps it against his chin and splashes a little.

DONNA

“Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry.”

She dabs the spill off his chin. THE DOCTOR gasps a big breath, opening his eyes wide, and DONNA startles badly.

DONNA

“SHIT!”

THE DOCTOR, bleary

“Issat tea?”

DONNA, looking down at the tea she forgot she was holding

“Yes! Yes it is, here, have a sip. Is it okay with milk?”

THE DOCTOR, being force-fed tea a little too quickly

*affirmative hum*

DONNA, pulling back

“Is that enough?”

THE DOCTOR is still swallowing his last sip, so he makes grabby hands for the mug. DONNA hands it over and sits back in her seat, wringing her hands.

THE DOCTOR, in between sips

“What, no honey?”

DONNA

“No, it’s late. Trying to calm down, aren’t we?”

THE DOCTOR finishes the mug in a long swallow and clumsily wipes his mouth with his shirtsleeve. DONNA looks disgusted but unsurprised.

THE DOCTOR

“So you made black tea?”

DONNA looks at him with her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

DONNA

“It’s got you up, hasn’t it?”

THE DOCTOR

“Yeah, fair enough. Oooh –”

THE DOCTOR winces, falling back onto his pillows. DONNA sits forward in alarm and takes the teacup.

DONNA

“What? What is it?”

THE DOCTOR makes a face and then belches up a plume of regeneration energy. DONNA jerks backwards, trying to avoid it. It follows her, curling slowly like water but definitely in her direction. She swats at it like a fly and it clings to her fingertips.

AUTH NOTE: SOMEHOW THEY GET TO THE PART THAT I ACTUALLY WANTED TO WRITE

DONNA looks down, smiling tightly, reluctant or not ready to talk about the difficult subject of THE DOCTOR leaving her without her memories for fifteen years. He looks at her, endlessly old and endlessly regretful.

THE DOCTOR

“I’m sorry.”

DONNA, shaking her head as if to brush it off and still smiling

“No.”

THE DOCTOR

“No, really, I’m so -”

DONNA leans forward jerkily. She’s restraining huge, complicated emotions behind a smile that’s wavering a little bit. She raises her hands, controls them, and folds them firmly and decisively together on the bedspread. THE DOCTOR watches her. She takes a deep, shaky breath and sighs it out.

DONNA

“I keep thinking -”

She bites down on the rest of her sentence, looking away and sniffing. Her body language and expression are tight. She’s barely holding tears at bay. THE DOCTOR is also tearing up.

DONNA

“No.”

DONNA stands up and flips the covers off THE DOCTOR. He’s confused, but moves with her as she focuses hard on pushing him over on the bed, pulling up the covers, and pushing the pillows onto the floor. She toes off her shoes and climbs into the bed. She arranges them to her satisfaction, so that she has his head tucked under her chin and he can’t see her face. Under the thin blanket, they’re obviously tangled together like best friends at a sleepover. THE DOCTOR noses closer, hungry for contact.

DONNA, slowly

“I thought I was broken...for fifteen years.”

THE DOCTOR’s expression crumbles, pained. DONNA is staring at the SONIC SCREWDRIVER in the pile of stuff on the dresser, steadier now.

DONNA

“Mum was being nicer, and Grandad just – he looked at me in this way I didn’t understand. He’s always been so encouraging, we’ve always shared so much, and suddenly... I kept going. I met Shaun. There was,” she starts to tear up again, “so much good, he’s so good, and then we had Rose and we were so happy, I was so happy, but there was always this great...big...hole right through the middle of it. It felt...like I was missing someone so important, and I couldn’t tell if it was me or my best friend or – or both.”

She finally closes her eyes and lets the tears fall. Then her expression relaxes. There’s some relief in saying it. She squeezes THE DOCTOR closer and kisses him on the top of the head. He sniffles.

DONNA

“I’m not really angry about that yet, we’ve been so busy, but I will be. I’m gonna hold this over your head forever, I’m going to squeeze you for every-every drop of guilt shopping and chocolates I can get.”

They both chuckle wetly and sniffle. DONNA sobers.

DONNA

“I keep thinking, what if it was Rose or Shaun? What if I finally had someone I loved and...and I had to make that kind of choice? I don’t have all the memories but I can remember feeling how lonely you’ve been, how much you’ve been hurt. I don’t know what I would have done, if I was hurting that way.”

She pauses. Her expression firms.

DONNA

“But I would have come back. Even if I had to leave them, I would have come back. I would have kept trying to help.”

THE DOCTOR

“You’ve always been stronger than me.”

DONNA pulls back and they look at each other. THE DOCTOR’S expression is dull, defeated, DONNA’S angry. After a moment, DONNA sighs. Closing her eyes, she presses their foreheads together. THE DOCTOR softens, still all pain underneath, but DONNA is calmer.

DONNA

“No more excuses for you. I’m putting you in feelings boot camp. You’re gonna wake up and do two hundred happy push-ups tomorrow. It’s a big job, but I’m going to whip you into shape. You’re gonna be miserable. I’m going to make you the biggest emotional bodybuilder in this town.”

THE DOCTOR, smiling

“You promise?”

DONNA

“Yeah, I do. There’s no escape for you now.”

She tweaks his nose. He wrinkles it and grins his big old grin.

DONNA

“Glad we got that settled. Now! Sleep time.”

THE DOCTOR

“But-”

DONNA shushes him and budges them both down the bed so that they’re lying comfortably. THE DOCTOR protests, citing Time Lord sleeping habits that DONNA shoots down with a snort, but he lets her bully him around.

THE DOCTOR

“But Shaun -”

DONNA

“You wanna keep trying to tell me things about my own husband or do you wanna enjoy this while it lasts?”

THE DOCTOR settles in. They both relax, still tangled together but less likely to wake up with cricks in their necks and hands fallen asleep.

THE DOCTOR

“Alright, don’t blame me if you get weird in the morning.”

DONNA

“You have no idea how much weird I can handle. Normal life has weird you can’t even imagine.”

THE DOCTOR

“I look forward to learning about it.”

DONNA

“I know you don’t snore, but I remember that camping trip in the Diamond Mountains. No wiggling.”

THE DOCTOR

“And I remember the kicking.”

DONNA

“Shush. Sleep time.”

<THE END>

CODA: THE DOCTOR sits on WILF’S couch, sick with bi-regeneration/”my 11th-dimensional self got too close to the not-things from the end of the universe” flu, doped on Gallifreyan cold medication and an accidental ginger-ale someone who didn’t know about Gallifreyan biology gave them. They’re swaddled like a recalcitrant cat at the vet because they keep falling over when they try to get up. DONNA is filming them acting like they just got out of wisdom tooth surgery and choking on laughter.

[mayonnaisetoffees]

Taking the Fall

(read on ao3)

Based on this incorrect quotes based on this malcolm in the middle scene.

Eddie fucked up. Eddie is man enough to admit when he fucks up and he fucked up.

“Who wants to make fifty bucks?” Eddie asked, skidding into the living room. He grabbed onto the doorframe on his way in to stop him from sliding too far and ending up falling. Again.

His housemates gaped at him. Eddie caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window and... yeah. He hadn’t looked this crazed since Vecna. Robin and Chrissy were sprawled on the couch, Nancy in the chair, and Jonathan was lying flat on his back on the floor. There wasn’t exactly anywhere to hide in the room if none of them agreed.

“How?” Nancy asked.

“I need someone to take the fall,” Eddie said quickly.

“Oh my god...” Steve’s voice came down the hall from the bathroom.

“What did you do?” Jonathan sat up, absolutely delighted, the dick.

“I can’t tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked.”

“Oh my God!” Steve yelled. Eddie was so dead.

“Make it a hundred.” Robin said, trying to hold back her laughter.

“Deal!” Eddie lunged across to the couch to shake her hand.

“Cash up front, Munson.”

Eddie ran to his lunchbox in the kitchen, scrambling to get the bills to fling back at her before Steve made it to the living room. His voice was getting higher, louder, and closer by the second.

In Eddie’s defence, he hadn’t started it. That award, surprisingly or perhaps not, went to Miss Cunningham. It had started simple enough, she had switched out the sugar and the salt. Since Eddie and Nancy were the only ones who drank coffee with sugar in the morning (Steve and Jonathan took it black, and Robin described herself as naturally caffeinated), they had fallen victim to it first, and swiftly vowed vengeance. Chrissy had recruited Robin to her side, and it was off.

So far, neither Steve nor Jonathan had taken part or been the victim. Eddie suspected on Jonathan’s side it was the memory of having a prank war when your sister had actual superpowers. In Steve’s case, Eddie thought it was probably fear of having either team turn on him.

The rules were simple: There were no rul-

No, the rules actually were simple:

People caught in the crossfire were unfortunate, but no targeting anyone not involved.

No recruiting the kids. (Again: actual superpowers. Plus Max had a wicked sense of humour, Will knew how to cut to the core of someone, Mike had once won a prank war against Nancy but neither of them will ever speak of what happened, Dustin had Suzie, and the Sinclairs had so much blackmail material already)

No fucking with anything actually important. (No messing with engines or gas tanks, no touching anyone’s instruments, no harming any records or cassettes - not that anyone would do the last one since Vecna).

No using anyone’s trauma against them.

The most recent prank had been Chrissy and Robin filling the bedroom Nancy, Eddie, and Steve slept in with cups of kool-aid. Literally filling it. Eddie didn’t even know they had that many solo cups, nevermind how they managed to fill the room without any of them waking up. Credit where credit’s due. It had been an absolute nightmare because they couldn’t spill a single one without risking dyeing the entire carpet red.

Which was how Eddie had gotten the idea for his most recent prank. It was flawless. Everyone mostly had their own products in the shower. A mixture of personal preferences, specific needs, and what they were used to. The only two who regularly shared shampoo and conditioner were Robin and Chrissy, who had bonded their first grocery trip over using the same kind.

The issue had come about twenty minutes ago.

“Eddie, can you add my conditioner to the grocery list? I forgot I’m out. I’m gonna use Robin’s again, but I still need to get mine.” Steve had called over his shoulder as he went into the bathroom. Eddie had hummed his agreement and thought nothing of it.

That was until he had heard the water stop, and a faint, what the hell? from the bathroom and remembered. Luckily, Eddie had had about a minute head start while Steve waited for the steam to clear enough for him to get his glasses and verify what Eddie already knew.

Steve stormed into the living room. All eyes were instantly on him as Robin hastily shoved the money into her pocket. There was absolute silence in the room for a solid ten seconds as they all stared at Steve as his eyes cut to each of them in turn.

“Why the hell,” Steve started, almost over-enunciating in his anger, “is my hair fucking blue?”

“I did it!” Robin, to her credit, yelled instantly. “I turned your hair blue! I... uh... thought it was time for a change, you know? And you’re always saying what a great colour blue is, but I thought, you know, Steve is never gonna do this for himself so I’ll do it for him! So I- I mean, what I did was, I put hair dye in your stuff. Do you not like it or-”

“Rob,” Steve cut her off, “I used your conditioner. Why the hell would you put hair dye in your conditioner?” And... shit. Eddie hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, this was falling down around his ears already.

“Baby...” Eddie started in his sweetest voice, and Steve turned to glare at him, face unimpressed. Eddie broke immediately. “I totally forgot until you were already done with your shower, I swear. It was meant for those two menaces. And, to be fair, it probably wouldn’t have been as bright if you just washed your conditioner off normally rather than hanging around for fifteen minutes or whatever.”

“Oh I’m sorry, are we arguing that this is my fault?!”

“Well, not entirely, just the brightness-”

“Dude,” Jonathan broke in, “quit while you’re not even ahead, man.”

That seemed to be the final straw for Nancy, who started laughing so hard Eddie was worried she was going to hurt herself. Steve whipped around to glare at her too, slightly blue water droplets flying out from his still damp hair. That was it for the rest of them, cracking into howls of laughter.

A few minutes later, they were still laughing, tears streaming down their faces, and clutching at their stomachs. Steve, the only one not laughing, had stormed out to finish drying his hair. Eddie actually thought this might be how he would die. He had his arms around himself, trying to stop the painful stitch, and yet could not stop laughing. Steve eventually came back in, hair dry but flat and unstyled. He unceremoniously pulled Jonathan upright and out of the room.

“Come on, Byers. Let’s see what prank wars with El and Will taught you.”