#and then he came into my life (as a friend first) and slowly isolated me from everyone for a few years before declaring that we had been-

[forbiddennhoney]

i hope all my friends who i don't talk to as much as i wish i did know they're constantly in my thoughts

[mandarinmoons]

Heyy! what about Spencer with a super independent reader convinced she doesn't need friends when really she's just been hurt a lot abd Spencer wants to help her? 🥰

Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy!

A true friend - Spencer Reid

After a long day of sorting through paperwork the last thing you wanted to do was haul the mountains of boxes back to the assigned cabinets, but that was your job and you couldn’t go home before it was all done. You tried to lift one of the crates into your hands, but were instantly brought back down by the force of gravity.

You can do it

Once again you lifted the box in your hands and you made it a few steps before your arms gave in and the box landed on the floor, all of the contents sliding over the office floor. You sighed and cursed in your head as you looked at the mess in front of you, it would probably take another hour for all of this to get cleaned up. Grudgingly you knelt on the floor and began picking up the papers when you felt someone run over to you and swipe the papers from your hands. You looked up with big eyes and saw Spencer neatly putting the papers together.

“Spence it’s fine I-”

“Let me help you.”

You bit your lip and kept quiet as you slowly gathered the files around you and Spencer doing the same at seemingly five times speed. In only about 15 minutes all of the papers were sorted and Spencer helped you carry them back to the office they originally came from. You were surprised he managed to hold onto the heavy boxes due to his boney figure, but you were reminded that the previous week he had tackled an unsub to the ground with ease with only one arm, so the man seemed to be full of surprises.

After the last box was perched back onto its cabinet you looked over at Spencer and felt guilty seeing him be out of breath, “I really appreciate the help. I owe you one.”

Spencer smiled and gave a slight chuckle, “Oh no need to, it’s what friends are for.”

Friends, hearing that word sent a chill down your spine. Usually it was a word that was supposed to bring comfort and happiness, but to you it felt cold and sharp. Spencer noticed your face grow sad and frowned,

“Are you okay?” Your head snapped up and nodded “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again.”

You walked out of the room at a quick pace and were stopped in your tracks when you felt a hand on your shoulder, “You’re not fine, tell me what’s wrong.”

You looked into Spencer’s eyes and saw the concern in them. You were tired of hiding your anguish, but it felt too hard to open up about it.

“Y/N? Talk to me, please. I want to help.”

Tears pricked in your eyes and you took a shaky breath before wiping at them roughly.

“I just um… I don’t have any friends.”

Spencer’s face dropped at the information, “What do you mean you don’t have any friends?”

You sighed and mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have, “I’ve just never been good at maintaining friendships. All of my life I’ve had people come in and out of my life and it’s solely been for their own interests and not mine. My last friendship ended so badly that it just made me want to isolate myself, and it’s kind of been that way ever since.”

Spencer nodded and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. You saw the pity in his eyes and wish that you couldn’t. It made you feel weak and you hated it.

“What if I was your friend?”

You looked up at the young man and furrowed your eyebrows, “Why would you-”

“Stop right there. You’re kind, you’re a great listener, you always let me talk to you about anything without interrupting and judging me. Plus, you make great coffee.”

You chuckled, he was right. You always let Spencer come to you and talk about whatever interest he had, whether you had knowledge on the subject or not. Most people would find his chatter off putting, but you found it interesting.

“C’mon Y/N, please, I don’t want to see you hurting.”

It was hard to say no to those puppy dog eyes of his, they reminded you of your first dog and that made it all the more harder. Eventually you cracked a small smile and nodded, “Okay then, I’m all yours now.”

Spencer grinned and pulled you into a warm embrace, “We’re gonna have so much fun, you just wait.”

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

I could possibly write a part 2 for this so if anyone would like one pls let me know! xx

[cheesus-doodles]

Hi hi I wanted to request some kakucho. Poor kaku he’s so sweet but also secretly deranged. Imagine like petting his hair and then turning around and suddenly this man is dagger glaring at everyone like mine! People telling you he’s scary and you’re like kaku? No I think you’re mistaken..like you could do anything to him like put bows in his hair and he’s like :D but the moment you leave he’s like :l

awww yes I support this! Kaku needs love on this blog as well imo, hashed out an entire BFF Kakucho here by accident so hope you enjoy anon!

also mini update, going home will be out next week! cross my heart

Masterlist

‎‎‎

I would say to me Kakucho comes off as someone who needs to be given a reason in order to function in life. In canon, this purpose would be given to him by Izana, which would be to serve him as a king, but when Izana leaves the orphanage to go with Shinichiro and then to run the Black Dragons, Kakucho is once more left without a purpose.

It wouldn't seem like a big deal at first, but slowly as the months drag on, this boy would find himself simply drifting through life, pretty much detached from the ongoings around him - there's nothing for him to really focus on besides physical training now that Izana was busy without him, and Kakucho himself doesn't have any particular goals that he is chasing except to server Izana. Of course, this all changes when he meets you.

You are no doubt a very headstrong person, someone who has no qualms doing whatever you like whenever you like, and would not back down on things that you believe in. And you also treated this boy to a lunch after he helped you beat up a bunch of bullies even though you didn't need the help, because you appreciated it anyway. Kakucho isn't a very trusting person to begin with because of his difficult childhood, but you definitely managed to sway his first opinion of you with that simple act of nothing asking for more.

Very selective with how much information he shares about himself, and you were the same, though you did manage to dig out that Kakucho didn't really have anyone else to spend time with, and so you invited him to hang out with you if he was up for it, saying that he was welcome to join your friend group for study sessions. On the other side of being so stubborn, what Kakucho saw was that you were also just an average student with an average number of friends, and leading a very normal life. You were kind yet stubborn, loved your friends and loved hanging out, and when Kakucho did hesitantly take up your offer for the first time, he fell head over heel for the chance at leading a very normal life, a chance to forget the harsh past he came from.

It helps that the more time he spent with you, the more he felt that he had a new purpose, a new person to serve, especially given how stubborn you were, and there he started his slip into yandere tendencies - you were, after all, the one that gave him another chance at life, a chance to be normal. And Kakucho would cling to that with the same vigour with which he would later cling to Izana. Extremely, extremely loyal, you can always count on this boy being there for whatever you need no matter the time of day. Starts slowly with offering to run and grab coffee for you "on his way" to a study session, and then would turn up outside your house to walk you to school, which would quickly turn into Kakucho offering to do any of your house chores.

All the while he slowly increases the pressure on your friend group to leave you alone, increasingly isolating you from everyone else so that he could keep you to himself. You only needed him after all, you didn't need anyone else - and you needed to focus on him so that he could serve you wholeheartedly. Would absolutely allow you to do anything to him without complaint, and yes, that includes putting bows even though he barely keeps any hair. You wanna hold his hand, sure! You want to dance with him in public, say no more. Want him to run to the other side of town to buy you a slice of cake at the break of dawn because it always runs out? Do you even need to ask?

Once he starts actively trying to keep you and your friends apart is when he starts to dagger glare everyone else around you, but that is as much as he would do when you are present. Because a servant deals with his royalty's issues silently and out of sight. Still a sweet boy at heart, he wouldn't throw hands except when he deems it absolutely necessary - in his mind, he doesn't want to keep you from your friends, no way. He craves the normality that you lent him with your presence and your way of life, but these people aren't your friends. All they do is sabotage you, drag you down, keep you from shining.

He would find you better friends.

Pleases Kakucho greatly that when Izana finally returned to him, and he found that you were indeed compatible and could exist side by side with his king with little conflict. He could serve two royals at the same time of course, but it would be so much easier if the two of you didn't overlap and cross each other - he didn't want to have to pick sides. Would introduce you to the rest of Tenjiku the moment he thinks its safe enough because these people are much better friends than those so-called scum from your school.

No lie, the day you first introduce him as your BFF, I think Kakucho would just melt away from happiness. Izana would be extremely amused.

[lovesickry]

- let the light in.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [2.4k] ┈⋆⭒ part 3 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, smut, swearing, angst, handjob LOL .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: sorry for my little hiatus I was really trying to think about what im trying to do with this story. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ comment if you wanted be added to taglist

by all accounts Spain had been...interesting. considering the close proximity in which you came into with a certain man by which you (or at least thought) certainly disliked.

A sense of unease followed you in the coming week, a kind of distrust. With yourself? It was an odd feeling, unlikely to be exactly pinpointed so it was more or less thrust far back into your mind, his lingering, burning touch hopefully soon forgotten.

You were eager to more or less throw yourself into training, it was Monaco after all, the race every driver wanted to win. You were not an exception.

-

You saw Danny for dinner on Tuesday and it was actually very refreshing, you had taken some convincing (done by yours truly) to actually attend, by in doing so you did actually have a good time. He was Danny Ric of course you were gonna have a good time. Anyway, you were walking around Monaco much too late, talking about the season and actively trying to avoid any talk about his current teammate. He mentioned he was worried about you. 

“Why?”

“Oh just you know, sometimes I see a bit of myself in you and I know how I can get.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, he cared so much. Danny had never been your teammate but youd drifted together through one force or the other and he'd been nothing but nice to you. You understood where he was coming from, you guess you were similar, the same kind of persistent optimism, sarcasm, devotion, not knowing when to stop pushing, problems of burning out etc; 

“I’m fine”

He waits for you to continue, you do.

“I mean, I think, it's just all a lot. I've wanted to be in Formula One for as long as I can remember and now that I’m here, it's still like everyday I'm fighting to be here. And it's not all just about being a girl either, like most of it is but still. It's like there's something inside me that's almost contradicting my existence, like I'm not meant to be here. It's pushing me forward and also pulling me back. I don't know how to explain it.”

You take a deep breath and try to keep your voice steady as you continue.

“There's just so much that I want to achieve and I don't even think I believe I can do it.”

Your voice wobbles only slightly as you pause walking and look at him, suddenly breathless.

He looks at you with so much understanding you could break down into tears. He extends an arm and pulls you into a side hug as he continues down the street slowly walking. 

“I think when you first do this that's how everyone feels, like they’re lying to themselves or that they don’t deserve it, but believe me when I tell you Dylan you are so deserving, more than so many drivers and you will get there. The isolation will dissipate and your body will realign and you’ll know what to do and how to do it and you’ll truly believe in yourself and your life won't be pushing and pulling at you anymore, i know its hard and i hate to say it, but time is truly your best friend in shit like this.”

You don't know how danny seemed to always know what to say but the words he spoke resonated with you and made something click, the rest of the walk home was lighter as you reached your hotel just after midnight, saying goodbye to Danny and watching him walk off into the lit streets of Monaco, quiet, peaceful and picturesque. You were amongst the other drivers who didn't (yet) live in Monaco, but you loved every moment you visited. Yes it was a posh persons wet dream, but it was undeniably beautiful in every part and you loved the safeness as a woman too. Though you'd have to admittedly work on your french.

When Thursday rolled around and you had to go to the track, ending your period of peace, it was  gratefully uneventful, not once did you see who you had prayed you wouldn’t and that was enough to leave the paddock with a smile. Friday was less than satisfying however, achieving not even in the top 10 in either practices. Saturday and Sunday, were thankfully a different story, you had qualified well, pulling your car into P4. You were happy, the car was happy and you were focused, the chat with Danny had made you in some way looser? 

You had mixed emotions about the part of the day in which you would attend the drivers parade. On one hand you could argue that it was a bit of a break from the seriousness, a time where drivers genuinely just chat shit while people look on and occasionally get asked questions, but on the other you could also argue that its kinda pointless and stupid. Regardless all the drivers piled into the moving vehicle and settled into a chatter of conversation in their respective “groups”. Just by your luck, as you eased into a conversation with Danny and George, Lando decided to join in. You didn’t ignore the look up and down he gave you before swiftly intervening in the conversation. For some reason the minute Lando joined in you were mute, not cintrivuting to the conversation in the slightest bit, other than nudging Danny every now and again to point something/someone out. You spoke few words with Lando present and even fewer when prompted by him to speak. At a point George simply dragged you away and talked to you one of one to save the awkward silence that seemed to surround the you and Lando. You had never found George unattractive, but at the same time you werent attracted to him either, which you thought in the moment he wasnt understand, as everything he said he would lean closer, almost intimate. Not too obvious, not romantic, but obvious enough, atleast to you and the eyes that you felt bore into the back of your head from a certain McLaren driver. Waling through the paddock following the drivers parade was always an ordeal, fans were out and you signed caps and shirts and skin and took photos, before finally making it anywhere near your garage. That was a part of the fun honestly, you always thought: The fans. You hear familiar voices and try not to eavesdrop, though subconsciously straining to hear, it's muffled and you only make out. “Shes not” “Dude” “fuck” “embarassing” “gross” “come on?” “you jealous?” your spying however is put to an end when none other than George Russel and Lando Norris round the corner to where you stood or recently stood, because as soon as you heard shuffling you resumed movement so they didn’t know that you were really just standing there listening to whatever the fuck they were saying.

“Speak of the devil” Lando says with a smirk.

You don't fully register the meaning behind that line however, still relishing in the fact they didn't know of your habit to eavesdrop. 

“You're such a twat” George says, and more or less storms off.

You watch as he goes, still silent and then turn towards Lando. 

“You’re actually such a dickhead ”

Lando scoffs before continuing.

“I was the one defending your dignity, George was drooling at you, its embarrassing”

You raise your eyebrows at him

“George?”

“Oh come on you're not that naive, he's so into you it's disgusting.”

“piss off”

“No seriously Mr Russell was in a seductive mood” it's said with an air of humour and you nearly laugh. 

“George was trying to seduce me?” you let a deep breath out of your noise, nearly letting loose a laugh.

“And how exactly would he go about that huh?” you continue sarcastically.

‘Hmmm” his eyebrows straighten and his whole face looks as though it changes composition.

You move to go, sick of whatever the fuck Lando wants to play with you, you round the corner, reaching a small end of a hallway with no current people near and suddenly hes there too. Lips grazing the top of your ear. His body was against yours and radiating with heat, breath fanning your temple. 

“Like this?” his voice is too fucking low, too fucking delicious and your mind is begging for you to succumb, but you cant, you wont.

“Youre a fucking asshole” its said through your teeth and you dont make any action to move your body away from his.

He hummed in response, simply moving his breaths down your neck.

“You mean it?” a smirk paints his face

“I hate you” the words come out more breathless than you'd hoped.

He laughs into the skin of your neck, you're still not moving, unable to move. In fear giving into him. 

You close your eyes in hopes to centre yourself but it's impossible to ignore the heat that seems to surround you, your blood flows like molten lava through your veins and every breath is staggered and fractured. Opening your eyes was a mistake, Lando is looking at you with someone that could be moulded into admiration and his pupils are blown. You can't stop the way your back arches to meet him and suddenly your hands are in his curls and his mouth is on yours. It is so sweet, so filthy, so hateful. The way your mouths are moving against each other, his hands grasping at your back while you pull at his hair, you notice as you pull away the way he bites his lip, as if to not make any noise. 

Well that's rich, he doesn't get to pretend he hasn't been the one chasing after you, acting all shitty just cause you’ve been the only girl not to fall to your feet at the sight of him.

He deserved a taste of his own medicine, you moved your lips off his and his eyes widened slightly thinking you're stopping whatever this was. Not yet. You move your lips down to his necks and begin to kiss him until you reach where he tenses at, figuring that's your best shot. You find the spot just above his clavicle and he inhales sharply before biting his lip. You were getting somewhere, focusing on this singular spot had Lando more desperate than before, biting so hard on his lip you thought it might bleed and gripping your waist so tightly you thought it might bruise if he adjusted his grip anymore. 

The next idea that hit you was albeit self-indulgent but you thought would get your point across, or atleast suffice some of Lando’s infatuation with you just enough to clear your mind of him.

While one of your hands holds firmly his curls while you kiss his neck fervently, your other hand drops down further, trailing over the muscle that lay taut and hot underneath his fireproofs. His throat bobbed and he threw his head back only slightly, making an incoherent noise that made you smile against his neck, his control lost and gained so fast. Soon after your other hand left the back of his head, he dropped it onto your shoulder, still fiercely remainly quiet as you moved the other hand down his back, both hands reached under the material at the same time and his body was hotter than you had ever thought possible, retaining so much heat you are surprised there wasn't some kind of steam coming off of his skin. You pull his race suit down lower so it meets his middle thighs, his forehead still resting on your shoulder, keeled over. Pulling the material of his fireproofs up so you could actually see the muscle that was residing under there was fucking awe-inspiring, the small gap that you allowed yourself to see, breathing hard and fast, watching the muscle, the skin go out and in which each breath, you were nearly hypnotised. 

“Im not gonna fucking beg tait”

His voice is rough but fractured and static, not portraying the toughness you think he’d like it too. It's your turn to hum in response as you move your hands achingly lower to where he is painfully and unbearingly hard for anything you do. The minute your hand makes contact with the sensitive skin he gasps, you relish in the noise and you slowly move your hand around him, gathering the pre cum that coats the tip and focusing on it, slow moments make him shake and he's suddenly making small, consistent noises that only egg you on more. You hated to admit that the power in the movement was absolutely superb, enough to ignore the ache between your own legs. You twist your hand slightly causing a strangled groan to come from Lando followed by a “fuck you” though its not too aggressive. You speed it up and soon he's breathing too fast, his eyes are fluttering and he’s so close. You position your hand and fingers at just the right part of him and he's coming hard and fast and hot and heavy in your palm. Followed by a deep, long breath and then a swift laugh. Lando Norris just came in your hand in his fucking racesuit. If that wasn’t karma that while he sung the national anthem he’d have cum in his fucking pants you didnt know what was. 

“That's for the crash and all the shit in the press.” you know how it must sound, that you'd just jerked him off and now you're labelling it as payback, but to the relationship that you both held it was pretty much just that. You slip out from under him, smoothing your hair and wiping your hands on his race suit. His face has fallen and hasn't moved, though he moves his arm to steady himself. 

You don't look back as you finally walk out of the corner of that measly little hallway, grateful that nobody happened upon you two. 

“Fuck you” its quiet but loud enough to hear and its almost….whiny? 

The ache between your legs has dissipated by the time you climb into the car, eager to get anything else into your head than the one that had been resting on your shoulder that day. 

tag list:

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[genderfluid-insomniac]

sun wukong and sixed eared mihou realizing their crushes [where theyre in a "courting" type stage of their relationship] mortality? like they knew they were mortal before sure but they get a close call where their crush is Fine but it kinda puts things to perspective for them ykwim [smth like having to pull them away from a car that nearly hits them, nearly falling off a mountain ledge, just barely dodging an attack, etc]

idk im curious to see how theyd react and if theyd grow distant or clingy or try to Make them immortal

Sun Wukong + Six-Eared Macaque x fatally injured!mortal!s/o

Sun Wukong

He knows all too well about being close to someone who’s mortal and doesn’t want to go through it again but would rather become mortal with you than force you to become immortal. So when you get fatally injured during an attack against the city he freaks out and thinks that’s it, Wukong isolates himself into you or one of his friends physically goes into his hut where his brother and sisters surround him all worried and concerned for their king.

You repeatedly tell him that this was his life worked sadly, and people got injured but that doesn’t mean he’s going to lose you until he shouts out, “THATS THE THING! JUST LIKE THE OTHERS, YOU LEAVE ME AND DIE WHILE I SUFFER FROM STAYING IMMORTAL. I DON’T WANNA LOSE YOU!” He turns to face you and tears are streaming down his face, his nose is running and he’s hyperventilating, you realize all these past weeks why he’s been so protective and worried because of this. The relationship between you two was still new so at first you didn’t know how to respond and then you followed what your heart wanted to do, ignoring every awkward warning in your mind.

He needed comfort. Your lover who risked his life and gave his heart to you needed reassurance and comfort from you. You ran over to him and hugged him as tightly as you could with your injury, wiping his tears and kissing him sweetly. Some of the monkeys climbed next to you to watch you guide Sun through a breathing exercise. “In…1….2…3….4….out…2…3…4.. That’s it.”

You reassured him that you did indeed want to spend the rest of your life with him, there was no doubt in your mind. “Sun Wukong, I don’t wanna leave you one day and I love you so much. Even if it’s still early in our relationship, I would give my life in exchange for having eternity by your side.” The king is shocked and stops crying slowly, sniffling and looking right into your eyes. He could see it, you weren’t lying and it was the same devotion and strength that drew him towards you in the first place.

You helped him up and waved the crowd of monkeys to follow you to the side cavern that had holes for the sun to peek in and a waterfall flowing into a small underwater cave system and river. There long ago the Great Sage had taken the seeds from the immortal peaches and planted them in the grass there, originally it just for him but now it had grown into a place of comfort for him, holding such a strong and powerful gift. Jumping to grab a peach and having some help from one of his siblings, you took it in your hands and felt the soft fuzz.

“I want to stay with you.” You gathered his hands in yours so both of you were holding the fruit and lifted up to your mouth, taking a bite and chewing it as you relished the soft taste. Wukong smiled so lovingly at your actions and did the same, biting the opposite side of the peach and humming at the familiar but sweet taste. All the monkeys around you slowly came towards and hugged you, some let out whoops of joy, and others ran outside (if you had to guess to inform others that their royal older brother had taken a mate for life).

Six Eared Macaque

…….so…….the topic of death for him is a very difficult subject to breach in the first place and getting him to open up, reassuring him you do truly love him and aren’t going to leave or betray him took a while. Macaque is already very protective of you and there have been several close calls where you’ve been close to dying every time his anxiety spikes, the dark voices in his mind whisper how some day you’ll leave this mortal plane leaving him alone again, and death tormenting him in the worst way.

One day he goes to visit you and when you don’t answer he knocks again….and again, after two or three minutes he invites himself in and calls out your name. If not for his hearing he wouldn’t have heard you faintly whisper his name and the sound of your heart beating slowly, your body sounded wrong and badly damaged but you hadn’t been injured in a battle so what was wrong? Macaque got his answer when he stepped into your room and you brightly flushed with the covers pulled up to your chin, a trash full of used tissues by your bedside table alongside a bucket he could guess for vomiting.

“What happened? Lotus you were fine a couple of days ago-“ You held your hand out and he sat on your bed, cradling your head in his lap and giving you water before you spoke. “Meningitis.” A cough spilled from your lips and you held your head in pain, groaning and blindly reaching for pain pills. Your boyfriend used his tail to grab them and help you swallow them, rubbing comforting circles on your hand. “My brain is swelling which is causing me to be sick and my prescribed medications aren’t stopping it. It suddenly came on and if I don’t get the right help or get better then I’ll die.”

You didn’t mean to freak him out but hiding it would make it worse and you held Macaque’s hand as he tried to suppress his panic attack, trembling and murmuring pleas to anyone or anything to not take you away from him all as you could only hold his hand. Too weak to stand for longer than two minutes. With tears streaming down his face he cupped your face and took a deep breath, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and now is certainly not the “right” time but I can’t live in a world without you. I love you too much to live the rest of my immortality without you and I would rather die a second time, so….”

“Yes.” He stopped and met your gaze, you nodded and reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting tears roll down your cheeks. “Macaque from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life and if it means being immortal with you then I gladly accept. Do whatever you need to do.” He nodded and borrowed your laptop to search for myths of immortality elixirs or artifacts that would help you become immortal, the entire day your lover spent caring for you while also finding something for eternal life.

That’s when he found the ingredients to make an elixir of immortality, entrusting your care to MK and Sandy before heading off into the forest. After days of search, he finally found it, he almost got his arm chopped off but it was worth it for you, Macaque rushed back to you and peppered you full of kisses. Soon enough he came back into your room with a cup full of herbal tea with Blood-red cinnabar and gleaming gold; fickle mercury and fiery sulfur mixed in and sat you up to drink it, “Take it slow, lotus. You’re still sick.” You slowly drank the cup until it was empty and both of you waited with baited breath until you could take a deep breath, already sounding so much better according to his six ears.

[chaoticlicense]

Leaving It All Behind

Summary: During the victory celebration, you seek out Zevlor to tell him of your intention to leave behind the life you once knew.

Word Count: 1266

Tags: SFW, Zevlor, Elf Reader, AFAB Reader, Zevlor x Elf Reader, Zevlor x AFAB Reader, OC Based Reader, Non-Tav Reader, Second Person POV, Fluff, Cuteness

AO3

You find him at the edge of camp, standing barefoot where the sand meets the water. His boots have been discarded, placed neatly behind him against the rocks. Gentle waves lap against his bare feet, toes digging into the soft, wet sand. Zevlor’s head is turned to the sky when you approach, molten eyes watching the stars. There’s a small smile on his lips as he slowly turns his head from left to right, taking it all in. The celebration is still ongoing around you, tieflings and fellow druids (those who stood by the tieflings against Kagha) alike share in wine, ale and laughter. But you find yourself drawn to their leader who stands isolated from the rest. 

As you come to stand at his side, you turn your head to the sky and join him in stargazing. The two of you gaze at the night sky for a while in comfortable silence until Zevlor turns his attention to you. 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asks.

Oblivious to the way his eyes soften as he takes you in, you nod in agreement. 

“Yes, they are. You must have missed the sight of them during your time in Avernus,” you muse. “I imagine there are no stars in the Hells.”

Zevlor hums. “None at all, I’m afraid. None like the ones here, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tiefling smile a little, molten eyes studying you. 

“In truth,” he continues, “There was a time when I thought I would never see the stars again.”

Then, a warm, calloused hand grazes your own and your heart flutters. 

You hadn’t known Zevlor for long, but from the moment he led his people to the Grove, you felt an undeniable connection between the two of you. As he came to Halsin seeking protection, seeking shelter against the chaos of the world around him, you knew in some way that you were destined to help him. Much to your fellow Druids’ dismay, you were always eager to help those in need no matter the cost. A flaw, Kagha said, a weakness. She turned her back on the tieflings the moment Halsin left in search of the Nightsong, but not you. 

You defied her will by showing them kindness when no one else would. You rose early, before dawn, to hunt and gather food for them to ensure they remained full. The first time you brought venison already skinned and portioned to Zevlor, he stood before you speechless. In all your years, you had never watched someone as composed as he come close to tears. 

He had taken the meat and the pelts with endless thanks that spanned days later. 

And so you continued to support him and his people, supplying them with whatever the needed, regardless of Kagha’s cruelty towards you for it. This support led to a great deal of time spent with the older tiefling, time that brought you closer together. Close enough that you can’t help the warmth flooding through you at the slightest touch.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” Zevlor asks after a while.

“Hm?”

“I thought you’d want to partake in the festivities after a well deserved victory.”

With a shrug, you fold your arms across your chest.

“I’ve had my fill for the evening. Too much wine and I’ll end up wildshaping into an owlbear, scaring off my newfound friends,” you say with a laugh. 

Zevlor smiles at this. “That would be quite a sight.”

“For you, perhaps. But not, I think, for the rest of the camp.”

“You never know.”

Shaking your head, you hold his gaze as you share a moment of laughter.

“I have to ask,” he begins. “If you are done with the celebrations, why seek me out tonight? There are plenty of others more deserving of your attention than I.”

You’re not sure if you should be offended or flattered by his words. If not for the gentle tone of his voice, you might have wondered whether he enjoyed your company or wanted you to leave him be.  

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Zevlor?” you tease. 

The corner of his eyes wrinkle as he shakes his head and reaches a hand towards your face. He takes a strand of loose hair fallen from your updo and tucks it neatly behind your pointed ear. 

“I would never do such a thing,” he says softly. “I just wanted to know why you’d spend your evening with an old tiefling like me when there is far more merriment to be had with the others.”

“You’re hardly old, Zevlor. Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“I wouldn’t dare to guess for fear of insulting you,” he laughs.

Rolling your eyes, you bump your shoulder against his playfully. 

“Regardless, how I choose to spend my time and who I choose to spend my time with is my business. And tonight, I choose to spend my time with you. That is to say, if you’ll have me?”

Zevlor’s hand moves from your ear, fingers gently brushing against your cheek before his arm falls to his side once more. 

“I most certainly will. In fact, I have come to welcome your company these past days.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you pray to Silvanus that he doesn’t notice. 

“That is…a relief to hear, truly,” you say, a little breathless. “Then what I came to say to you will be much easier.”

His brows raise, interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I’ve decided that I want to come with you to Baldur’s Gate. I want to join you and your people and help you navigate the way forward. I know it won’t be easy but I know the path better than most. I can help you.”

“But…what about the Grove? What about your people?” 

“They were never my people. Halsin brought me to the Emerald Grove when I was just an elfling. A child, in truth. A child who became as much of an outsider as any who came across them. If it weren’t for Halsin’s kindness, I would have been cast out by Kagha and her ilk.”

Your voice spits venom as you speak her name. The elf in question never truly accepted you into the Grove the way Halsin did. She could sense something in you that she distrusted. Something that drove her to all but ignore you these past several decades. In doing so, in showing her distrust, she brought about the same feeling in the others. Few of the other Druids trusted you after that. 

“No,” you continue. “The Grove was never my home, and its people were never my people. I have wanted to leave it behind for some time but there was never a chance to do so before now. Before you. I have never felt more…wanted than I have by you, Zevlor. You and your people have shown me more kindness in the past tenday than the Druids have in the past ten years. The least I can do is repay you by helping you on your journey to the city.”

Zevlor is quiet. His eyes bore into your own as he considers your words. The flames of his irises seem to burn into you with such ferocity you think you might catch fire. Then he reaches for your hand. Fingers lace with yours as he pulls you a little closer. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Sighing, relieved, you nod. “I know. That’s why I want to.”

“Then you will be the most welcome company on the journey ahead of us.”

All written content belongs to ©chaoticlicense // you do not have permission to use any of my works // do not repost or modify/edit // all content is written for adults by an adult // any characters unless stated otherwise, belong to their rightful owners.

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Building Shrines For Him by chiyukimei

💙 Building Shrines For Him

by chiyukimei (@chiyukimei)

M, 7k, Wei Wuxian/Hua Cheng

Summary: Wei Wuxian accidentally summons Hua Cheng in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. What would happen if Hua Cheng stood for him? He halted on his steps and exasperatedly sighed; just when he was about to go back, he heard a deep voice. "Is this new? The song you played?" Wei Wuxian immediately turned towards where the voice came and inspected its owner. There stood a tall man, even taller than Wei Wuxian and mind you Wei Wuxian was pretty tall already!. He wore red embroidered robes and a delicate black sash. His hair was neatly braided and placed on his one shoulder. Kay's comments: This story is a bit of a guilty-pleasure and holds a special place in my heart. You know me, I'm usually 100 % Wangxian only, but this pairing of Wei Wuxian/Hua Cheng really intriqued me and it's so well-written. I really think that if there would have been another man in Wei Wuxian's life, it must have happened during the Sunshot Campaign like in this story, when Wei Wuxian was the most isolated and in need of a true friend who trusted him. Definitely give it a chance, even if the pairing might not be something you would usually read! Also, check out this beautiful fanart! Excerpt: Hua Cheng, “If you need anyone to trust you, then I’ll trust and tell you; you’re not gonna lose control. Even if you lose control it won’t be because of you.” Wei Wuxian’s lips had parted, he gasped. His heart beat a bit too fast like the times he used to tease Lan Zhan. He swallowed and shut his eyes again. “You don’t even know me.” The other man slowly answered, “I know you enough.” Hua Cheng didn’t need to give Wei Wuxian any spiritual energy that night. Hua Cheng was stuck together with him because he couldn’t return to his own world, Wei Wuxian knew that. Yet to think that Hua Cheng stayed with him despite being able to leave the war, use a jewelry to live his days off till he left; Wei Wuxian felt a certain warmness he didn’t dare feel since Burial Mounds – maybe even ever since his childhood. All because a man choose to stay with him.

pov wei wuxian, crossover, canon divergence, wei wuxian/hua cheng, tian guan ci fu fusion, tgcf, tian guan ci fu, sunshot campaign, post-sunshot campaign, yiling laozu wei wuxian, burial mounds settlement days, ambush at qiongqi path, jin zixuan lives, somebody lives/not everybody dies, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, pining lan wangji, developing relationship, strangers to lovers, wen remnants live, wei wuxian lives, romance, first kiss, feelings realization

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[bloodandthestars]

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝟐 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍.

biker!ais x gn reader

tags: fwb (so mdni), biker au, reader is a bit bold late in the night

a/n: if he’s ooc I’m sorry, but I needed to write this out my HEAD, just something sweet and quick for you guys while I recover and write more Geto. here are some songs used for this: smartwater (summer walker), 2 AM (che ecru), right my wrongs (bryson tiller)

wc: 2k

Once again you found yourself restless in your apartment. In the dead of night, the ceiling becomes a familiar sight. The silence doesn’t bother you— it’s the fact that sleep doesn’t come any sooner that does. You keep forgetting to grab melatonin on your run to the grocery store, thus making your nights long. Watching the city lights helped at the very least. You got yourself with a slight groan, putting some bottoms on and house shoes. There was a slow walk to the kitchen where your tea brews hot. One inhale’s able to ease you, but not by much.

You slide your worn window open with a grunt, slipping outside to the fire escape. The metal was a bit damp but doable. You sit down with your legs crossed and your back against the brick of the apartment. Your plants in the corner seem to be doing well after rain from the previous night. It left every surface dewy and shiny, from the fog on windows to the street beneath you. Skyscrapers not too far away light the night, sounds of traffic entrancing your ears. The city always felt like home, like a friend to always have in the background of your life.

That seemed to ring true with everything you had going on. You started a new job that was piling on a workload before you could get comfortable, the floor’s washer and dryer was never working, and any free time you had was spent sleeping to charge your battery up again. Was it a tad isolating? Sure. You had your friends but you weren’t exactly feeling social when you were tired. Time alone became a new thing for you when you moved into the city. It was something to learn to enjoy, you thought, not something to be afraid of.

Zzpt! A chime on your phone takes you out of the atmosphere. You look down at your bright phone, not only telling you it’s late in the night but that you’ve received a text.

‘I’m assuming you’re up, Sparrow?’

You huff, fingers already ready to type out: ‘You stalking me or something?‘

Before you can set your phone down, it chimes again. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

He was one result of that time alone. You went out to a bar, one your friend recommended as your big night out. The Amaryllis was…a strange name at the least but seemed fitting when you stepped inside. Bar had to be a total understatement. Red drenched the entire place with its lighting. There were two bars on either side, with a large space in the middle full of people. Your immediate thought was to go straight to the bar. You settled your bag down, taking a seat under you and settling there. The bartender asked what you wanted and you asked for a martini, simply the first thing that came to mind when you thought of bar drinks. As you waited, the music caused your head to bounce slowly. An RnB beat that clearly got those mingling in the mood to dance. In the middle, there were some grinding against one another, others whispering close to each other’s faces. Your eyes linger from one person to the next and eventually, they linger on him.

‘Yes I’m up.’ You clarify.

‘Good.’

‘And why’s that?’

‘I’m a bit bored.’

‘Hm, if that’s the case, I rather not be entertainment.’

You scoff at his answer of boredom. A couple of minutes pass when he finally replies honestly. ‘Fine. I can’t sleep either.’

‘Was that so hard?’

‘Like pulling teeth.’

His red eyes locked you in the moment you caught them. He had a whiskey locked in his hand, lazily drapping his arms on the bar from behind. You looked away, finding other things to look at, but your gaze seemed to trail back to him. His never left.

‘How was work?’

‘Long and tiring.’

‘So, usual?’

‘You know me so well.’

‘I have my moments.’

You bite your bottom lip as you type out your own question. ‘What has you up?’

It was right then when your eyes returned to him in that club did you both remain staring at one another. People could walk through your line of sight and yet he never wavered when they walked in his. You could feel your stomach twist, but it felt good in a way, exciting even. Knowing that there was someone there who couldn’t take their eyes off you. And when you think back to that night, you were sure he figured that out too.

‘Nothing you should know about, Sparrow.’ This message took him the longest to send, making you even more curious. Not without an eye roll, however.

‘You sure?’

‘Promise. Don’t need to worry your pretty little head.’

It’s not like you could help it. He was willing but withdrawn. Taunting but behind a wall of a fortress. He’s honest, only when he wants to be. How could that not intrigue you?

When you were in the club, you turned away to sign off on your tab. As soon as you were half way through your signature, he’s right there, asking if you were really about to leave. You weren’t really, if it wasn’t evident enough to the bartender on how you were taking your sweet time. And when you told him that, he couldn’t help but smirk, signaling to the bartender that his tab was opened where you were now. You exchanged names. Yours rolls off his tongue after you say it, as if to make sure his mind never forgets it. He gives you his: Ais.

‘You know I’d listen.’

That big night out alone, didn’t end that way.

‘I know.’

Another text. ‘But I don’t want that right now.’

‘Then what do you want?’

‘You.’ Another follows a little too quickly. ‘You talking is enough for me.’

‘Is it?’

A beat goes by, your phone pressed to the metal under you as you awaited his next text. ‘You ask too many questions.’

You’re trying to hide a shit-eating grin with you bite your bottom lip a second time. ‘I think I ask all the right questions, actually.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘Clearly I do, since it’s taking you so long to text back.’

You feel that twist in your stomach again, boldness seemingly becoming the theme of the night with you. ‘What do you want then?’

‘You know I’m not good at talking over the phone.’

‘You do just fine with me.’

‘You’re different. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to look at you when we talk.’

‘That’s what FaceTime is for.’

‘You know what I mean.’

You lean your head back against the wall, exhaling as you look up to the sky. You shouldn’t be doing this. ‘Come on then.’

It should be appalling how fast the word ‘Delivered’ disappears and turns into ‘Read at 1:48 AM’. But to you it was nothing new. If you told him to come, he’d be there. If he was in need of you, you’d find your way over. One night turned into these casual flings between you both. Not what you were expecting to find in the city— nor what you really need right now— but god, did he prove himself for no complaining.

You recognize the rumble of the engine in an instant. It echoed across the neighborhood, but you know he wouldn’t give a damn about that. Anytime you heard it you thought it could rival rumbling the earth. You quickly go to stand, peering over the fire escape in time to see him slow down in front of your complex. He twists throttle twice with his foot hard on the brake levers to come to a stop. The motorcycle’s roars fade to silence. Its matte black texture gave a muted shine under the streetlights, while any grey part looked worn of use yet always ready to go. His helmet turns in your direction to watch you. He tilts his head at you and you tilt yours back, ending the interaction with a grin and a rush back into your apartment.

“I still think you should’ve got the paint job in red.” You say as you’re already out of the front doors. A chill runs down your spine from the night air. One of his gloved hands flips his visor off his eyes. Red irises were already attached to you. He crossed his arms, making the leather of his jacket tighten with a slight crunch. “And I still think it would have been too flashy.”

“You could pull off flashy.” Your fingers run over the top of the vehicle, still warm from use. He watched your fingers, then looks back to you with a scoff. “You don’t mean that.”

You shrug, eyes catching his and smiling at him. You look back down to his motorcycle, fingertips tracing over the top of the fuel tank. Ais still watches you even then, pressing his lips together at how your digits scale his ride. You turn your head to him, catching his attention again. “Little late for a house call.”

“It’s never stopped us before.”

Your fingers stop abruptly, causing him to get hesitant. You then put your chin in your hand while resting your elbow atop the tank. “No, I guess not.”

His head tilts at you, a scarred brow raises. “What? You don’t like our visits anymore?”

You roll your eyes. “I never said that.”

You could tell by the crinkle of his eyes that there was a grin under his helmet. You bite the inside of your cheek, rolling your eyes at him again to avoid smiling at him. You stand up fully, and a warm hand pressed into the small of your back. The other hand keeps himself balanced. You could feel his thumb slowly rub the fabric of your top.

“You ready to go then?”

You give him a look, doesn’t mean he’d pull away. “I have work in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“So I can’t stay long.”

“Mhm.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I am.”

“Ais.”

The mention of his name turns his eyes up from your lips. The look in them goes lax. “I’ll bring you back early enough to change for work. I can take you.”

A scoff abruptly comes out of you. “No way, last time you did that I had to deal with being the gossip of the week from my co-workers.”

“So?”

“So?”

Ais shrugs, leaving you wondering how he could act so nonchalant. “It’s none of their business, so who cares.”

His thumb continues to stoke your lower back, making the temptation all the more palpable. You were mere inches from being pressed against his side and if he had his way, you would have been there already. You continue to look at him, contemplating your choices. Another moment under your gaze and his shoulders relax with a slight sigh. “I’ll drop you off around the corner if that helps.”

You soften just a tad. Damn him trying to be a gentleman.

He leans close, lowering his head to make sure both of your eyesight is leveled. “But you are coming with me.”

There’s a twinkle of amusement in your eyes that he catches quickly. “What makes you say that?”

“What?” He huffs. “You can only act bold over the phone, Sparrow? One, you’ll want to put your money where mouth is. And two-”

That leathered hand quickly finds itself cupping your rear, causing a metal jingle to be heard. You jump at his slight squeeze, butterflies fluttering in the deep pit of your stomach. There’s a mischievous slight in his voice. “You have your keys in your back pocket.”

Now you were planted at his side with him with his hand placement. You look up at him, body giving into his own heat. Your stomach was twisting again but it hits you then on what it really was. A feeling of now or never that seemed to always accompany his presence. A rush of adrenaline that just needed fuel to go little further. That’s exactly what he was. The gasoline to a fire you seem like you had to enjoy before it completely burned out.

And this time, your smile is stronger than your resistance to it.

[ingravinoveritas]

Hi again :) I hope this is okay - I just love reading your thoughts and commentary on different aspects of David and Michael's life. You are quite the writer and seem to bring aspects to light that I hadn't noticed or considered. Thank you for that <3 I was hoping you might write a little something about them in celebration of Bisexuality Awareness Day on September 23rd?

Hi there! Aw, thank you so much for the kind words about my writing--I truly do appreciate it. (And to all of the lovely people who have sent me some amazing questions that are currently sitting in my inbox, I promise I will answer your Asks soon! This one was time sensitive so I wanted to be sure I answered it before it was too late.)

So, yes...yesterday was Bisexuality Awareness (Visibility) Day. And I think what stands out to me in particular when I think of this day and Michael and David is the word "visible." What it means to be visible.

On the one hand, it can mean that you are not hiding. It's about being who you are and simply existing as your authentic self, even if you are not announcing or being loud about it. But "visible" can also mean being seen. The acknowledgment of your authentic self by the people in your personal life--friends, family--and by the world at large. It would seem that these two things naturally go together, but as all too many bisexual folks know, not hiding is not the same thing as being seen.

When I think about the time and place where Michael and David came of age--1980s Britain, under the tenure of Margaret Thatcher and the oppressive rule of Section 28--it seems like the last thing any LGBTQIA person would've wanted to be is visible. To be seen as anything other than straight or cis meant ridicule, persecution, isolation, and in the worst cases, institutionalization or incarceration.

And so you have Michael who, fresh out of drama school, starts taking on queer roles. To this day, Michael has repeatedly quoted Oscar Wilde ("Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth"), and in considering this, you start to see how all of those roles became a way for Michael to explore a part of himself that he couldn't openly explore in real life.

It means that even working in the arts and theater wasn't a guarantee of protection, and that for Michael and for David, being who they are was ultimately at odds with the desire to advance their careers. David became the Doctor in 2005, and while the social and cultural landscape had slowly begun to shift, the demands of portraying the lead in a beloved, family-oriented British institution meant living up to a certain image. He'd moved to London years earlier, which undoubtedly gave him the freedom to explore and discover himself...but as the Doctor, a national icon, the world opened up and somehow narrowed at the same time.

So many years have passed since then. The pulsing thrum of unending work and the pressure to establish themselves has ebbed. Michael and David have found a steady place in their professional lives, and that feeling of needing to hide has lessened. They know exactly who they are and finally, perhaps for the first time ever in their lives, do not have to be afraid to show it. To suggest. To say what is in their hearts and let the words hang in the air without hastily added qualifiers or retractions.

That takes us back to the word "visible." Even as so many things have changed over time, a strange incongruousness arises. That despite knowing who they are, Michael and David are middle-aged, and the mindset still prevails that "coming out" is only for younger people. Or for people not in straight-passing relationships, or who don't have families. That being middle-aged somehow means having everything figured out and never feeling lost or confused or struggling to accept who you are. Life tells us different. And as I mentioned above, it becomes even clearer that not hiding is not the same thing as being seen.

When I think of this day and Michael and David, I think of the courage it takes to be yourself--without apology, without compromise. I think of what it was like to form an identity in a place that leaves no room for you, that tells you in one way or another that you don't belong. I think of what it must've been like to feel alone for so long, to not know if you'd find the person who understands you so completely, and then years later to fall in love with them at exactly the wrong (or right) time. I think of knowing deep inside that something isn't a phase or a fleeting desire, and the soul-draining exhaustion of having to convince others that you are here. You exist. You belong.

The permanence of being seen. Of being visible.

Happy Bisexuality Visibility Day 2023, everyone.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Third part of Ride the Cyclone AU.

The game begins.

(Oh and check out my reblog for this post for Dolores’ bid to be brought back to life).

The previous part in case you need a recap.

Comments are always appreciated.

Warning, sensitive topics below, especially character death.

~~~~~~

A Little More of Me

A drumroll rang through the room.

A spotlight flickering before it finally settled on Dolores.

“Dolores Madrigal, you are first.” The blue suited man declared.

The woman froze, before barely managing to get out the small word, “Why?”

He sighed sarcastically. “Alas! if only you hadn’t burned off those three questions right at the top.”

“It’s just…” she glanced around momentarily, before setting her eyes on the closest person to her. “When you tie the room together, I think Isabela is going to seem like the natural choice for that slot!”

“What? You want me to go first? But you never want me to go first.” Isabela commented.

Dolores squeaked in delight. “Well, it’s like you always say, Isa; the oldest should go first.” She quickly pushed the woman towards the strange man. “Mr. Whatever, Isabela and I are going to trade places.”

“No trading places,” the man remarked, mocking her voice as he did.

Isabela burst into laughter, looking very smug as she walked over only for Desconocida to step in and block the path to Dolores. Any cruel remarks were quickly forgotten about as Isabela’s new focus was now getting away from this being.

A problem she and Luisa would counter by trapping the thing in the cart.

Dolores rolled her eyes and walked away, trying to recover some of her dignity.

“I am happy about that, actually,” Dolores said. “Fine, I’ll go first. I just want to say two things.” Then, she redirected her attention on the man. “I don’t know how it is in your culture, but in ours? Playing games where people’s lives are on the table? Super illegal!” She screeched. Taking a breath and smiling, she continued, “Second, I really love your suit. It really brings out your eyes.”

The lights faded and the rest of the contestants disappeared in the darkness, leaving only the spotlight on Dolores as she stepped up to where a door had appeared in the wall. After a nod from the man, she went for the doorknob. It flashed to life with her name and engraving.

“Dolores Victoria Estrada Madrigal,” the man introduced. “Born 31st August, Virgo; the practical nature. Favourite ride: the ferris wheel.”

Several shots from throughout Dolores’ life, flashed up on the door, like photographs.

“Dolores was born into what is the most respected family in all of Encanto, but she soon found herself left to linger in the shadows. While the rest of her family was heralded with praise, the only comments that came Dolores’ way were…”

Isabela and Luisa reappeared - the former was wearing a red braided wig and hat, while the latter had a beige ruana thrown over her clothes. They echoed the words of the townspeople.

“You seemed so nice.” Isabela offered, lazily.

“I never really met you, but you seemed friendly.” Luisa shrugged.

Dolores awkwardly approached them, as the strange man continued his narration, but they didn’t seem to notice her at all and eventually walked off.

She slowly realised they were being controlled again.

“That is with the exception of one group of people. The biggest achievement Dolores was to receive in her short life was her school career. If not for Encanto being such an isolated town, her ambitions and skills would have been properly recognised at some prestigious university. Instead she’ll be glorified by her teachers for years to come. High school president, straight A student. Dolores Madrigal, the most intelligent girl in town.”

The lights came back and the visuals faded, the other contestants regathering in a semi-circle a few paces behind Dolores.

She herself stood in the centre, smiling, she cleared her throat.

“Judges. Colleagues. Family. Friends. Ominous novelty salesman.” She looked back at the piece of paper in her hands and tore it in half. “I had a speech prepared for this very occasion, but I simply cannot read it.”

“How does she have a speech for this?” Camilo questioned, looking around at the others in confusion.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her.” Luisa snarked.

“I am just going to speak from my heart,” Dolores continued. If she heard their comments, she didn’t acknowledge them. “I’ve known all of these folks since birth— oh!”

She made a turn, wanting to address her family, only to find Desconocida stood in the way.

The doll-headed girl leaned forward curiously, black eyes borrowing into Dolores’s own.

“Most of,” she amended, pushing the girl into Luisa, who freaked out. When had she gotten out of the cart? “And I love them all! I couldn’t compete against them for a chance at life.”

There was a confused noise from Camilo. “You literally spent all day at the fair telling me you would give me to Satan for free.”

Dolores abruptly shushed him. “My time, Camilo. This is my time.” She turned back to the strange man, “Look, I’ve heard enough of Tío Bruno’s rat telenovelas to get what you want us to do here. Who’s the best?” She nodded to herself. “Sure. Grades. Behaviour. Humanitarian efforts. Extracurricular activities. Musical endeavours. Being able to tell you everything about everyone in our town - quicker and more accurately than any type of record or machinery - since the age of five!”

She took a breath.

“I am the best,” she said confidently, “By any metric of society. I get that. But if that is how worth is measured, I want no part of it! Look some of us are left wing,” she lifted her left hand. “And some of us are right wing,” she lifted the other. “But the last time I checked, it takes two wings to fly!”

She flapped her arms as an example, then held them up in the air.

“We are community! We are family! We are the world!”

After her declaration, a loud buzzer noise played.

She bowed gracefully, to some silent and nonexistent applauding audience.

“Dolores Madrigal heroically concedes,” the suited man announced.

The other three Madrigals snickered, Isabela almost collapsing to the floor in peals of laughter between Camilo and Luisa. Desconocida, who had been dragged and left at the other side of the room by Luisa, simply tilted her head in confusion.

The comment seemingly smacked Dolores back to reality. “She does what?”

“I respect you taking the moral high ground.” He said, nodding gently. “Next!”

She ran over, shaking her head. “B-but I was just trying to prove to you that I’m a good person,” she insisted.

“Duly noted. Next!”

“No, no, no!” She exclaimed, desperate. To emphasise the point, she bravely snatched the metallic cone thing. She didn’t know why, she just suddenly felt compelled to. “I am urging you to make the responsible choice here for the betterment of humanity!”

~~~~~~

12th September, 1951

“I will go with them.”

The adults turned to honestly the last person they expected in the doorway.

“Now we’re definitely not gonna be allowed to do anything fun there!” Camilo whined, flopping to the floor dramatically.

Pepa only smiled. “Oh, would you, Lolita?”

“It’s a nice offer, but don’t feel you have to, mija.” Félix said. “Bruno is already going, and I’m happy to go as well—”

“No. I will keep them out of trouble. You deserve a break.” Dolores insisted.

“What the fuck was in those chocolates?” Luisa whispered to Isabela. She glanced curiously at the box Mariano had sent for Dolores’ birthday, just in time to catch a vine trying to clumsily push one out of its container. Luisa smacked Isabela’s arm.

The vine dissipated, the chocolate going flying.

Camilo’s eyes gleamed and he chased after it, as it disappeared underneath a cabinet.

“Sobrino, don’t eat food off the floor,” Julieta chided from where she had also appeared in the room.

“Five second rule, Tía!” Camilo shrugged, his mouth half-full.

She shook her head. “What are we all gathered around in here for? I called dinner about five minutes ago and the only person who showed up was Mirabel.”

“The children want to go to the fairground,” Agustín explained, getting up. “I’ll go ask to see if she’s interested. It wouldn’t be fair to leave her here.”

“That’s not fair! Why does Mirabel get to go and I have to stay here?” Antonio asked.

“Because you aren’t tall enough for most of the rides, Toñito. There won’t be much for you to do.” Félix soothed.

“I’m basically Mirabel’s height. She’s not going to be able to ride anything either.”

“You’re too young, I’m afraid, Antonio.” Abuela reasoned, as gently but firmly as she could. “You’ll have to sit this one out. Maybe next time the fair comes by.”

As Antonio’s lip quivered, Pepa scooped him up. “Aww, don’t cry, mijo. We’ll plan something just as exciting to do here - with all your animals, who wouldn’t have been allowed in the fair anyways - that will be much better. Okay?”

The family began head towards the table, Bruno pulled Dolores aside.

“It’s very kind of you to offer to go.” He said. Then raising an eyebrow, “Especially as you told me it was ‘a waste of time’ this morning. And you’d rather do anything then have to babysit the others more than you already do. Could it be that something has changed your mind? Are you admitting you were wrong?”

“Absolutely not; I’m always right. I am just a nice person - this is what I do.”

He smirked, “Oh yes. The world needs more people like you.”

They really do.

But she’d never say it out loud.

[agaypanic]

Do you think you could do a Reese x Cynthia’s sister! Reader enemies to lovers and/or soulmate fic?

Not So Bad (Reese Wilkerson X Sanders!Reader)

Masterlist

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Summary: Being a former Krelboyne with your sister Cynthia, you knew very well of the Wilkersons. Especially Reese.

A/N: The Sanders family doesn’t go to Europe, also i feel like this sucks but idk how to make it better lol

***

When your dad first told you and your sister that you were moving out of Manhattan, you were kind of excited. Manhattan was loud and hectic, and you agreed with your dad on wanting a more quiet life.

It wasn’t so bad at first. Seeing your and Cynthia’s grade history, the school had you two tested, and you were placed in a class for smarter kids. They called it the Krelboyne class. The kids were okay, a bit awkward at times, but that didn’t stop you from making friends with them. 

Cynthia immediately took notice of a boy named Malcolm, and you all became friends. With Malcolm came his crazy family, the most notable to you being Reese. You two were in the same grade but only saw each other during lunch or when you two were waiting for your respective siblings after school so you could go home. He was violent, rude, and annoying.

You two would bicker whenever you were around each other. He’d make fun of you for being smart, and you’d make fun of him for being dumb. There was no escaping him since you and Cynthia were friends with Malcolm, and your dad didn’t allow your sister to be alone with Malcolm after he threw a brick through her window one night.

Hormones did crazy things to the Wilkerson boys, apparently.

Since you were in the grade above Cynthia and Malcolm, you started high school before them. No more hanging out with your Krelboyne friends. The only person you really knew at school now was Reese, who was a pain in your ass. But the good thing about high school was that no Krelboyne class meant you weren’t isolated from the rest of the student body. Slowly but surely, you started making more friends.

You were talking to one of them after school one day when Reese came up to you.

“You’re good at math, right?” Your friend said goodbye to you and walked away. You sighed, looking at Reese.

“Why?” You asked bluntly.

“I’m failing and-”

“Not surprised.”

“Shut up, okay! My mom saw my grades and is making me get a tutor.”

“Why not make Malcolm do it? Doesn’t he already do your homework?” You asked, walking towards the exit to get your sister, who was at the middle school. Reese followed after you, having to do the same with his brother.

“He can’t do it because he’s working on some stupid project. Look, will you help me or not?”

You stopped on the sidewalk, pretending to look off in thought. You turned to Reese, who looked annoyed but hopeful.

“Not.”

***

You ended up having to tutor Reese in math anyway. Lois knew Malcolm was too busy, and you were the next best thing. Plus, it was five bucks an hour.

That was the only upside.

“Reese, your mom is paying me to teach you how to do your homework, not do it for you.” You flopped on his bed, annoyed at his persistence.

“Well, if you were a better teacher, I wouldn’t have to ask you to do it for me.” You glared at him.

“And if you were a better student, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.” You shut your eyes, trying to block out as much of Reese’s presence as possible. The boy knew how to push your buttons. He was so frustrating. You felt lucky to be in higher-level classes, so you only had to deal with him after school. “God, you’re such a pain in the ass.”

He scoffed. You felt the bed dip beside you.

“Oh yeah, and you’re an angel, Y/n.” He laid down parallel to you, but his head was by your feet. You two lay in a moment of silence.

“Reese, we have to focus.” You finally said, sitting up just enough to look at his face. He snored softly in response. You almost rolled your eyes; of course, he would fall asleep when you had work to do. But you stopped yourself. He seemed more pleasant when he wasn’t conscious. You let out a breath, slowly lying back down. “Five minutes.”

An hour had passed when one of you finally woke up. It was Reese, who stretched all his limbs before slowly sitting up. When he saw you sleeping, he smirked. Ideas ran through his head of all the ways he could wake you up. But then he paused his thoughts. You looked peaceful, and for some reason, he didn’t want to disturb that. So he decided to let you wake on your own.

***

“Cynthia, Reese and I are not together.” You said on the walk home from the Wilkerson’s, grimacing at the mere thought. Your sister and Malcolm had seen you sleeping on Reese’s bed, and she wouldn’t shut up about it when you two left.

“Well, he has to like you or something. There’s no way he wouldn’t try to pull something on you while you were asleep if he didn’t.”

“You’re just a hopeless romantic.” You shook your head at her insistence. You and Reese could barely be considered friends, let alone a couple. “We were both tired, that’s it. He probably was having an off day or something, so he didn’t decide to do anything.”

Cynthia dropped the topic, sensing you wouldn’t budge anytime soon. It wasn’t until before you were going to go to bed that you barged into your sister’s room.

“Do you actually think he could like me?” You asked, toying with the hem of your pajamas. She smirked.

“I thought you insisted that he doesn’t.” She sat on her bed, patting a spot next to her, signaling for you to sit. “What changed your mind?” You rolled your eyes, sitting down.

“I didn’t change my mind, I’m just… more open to possibilities.” You tried to act nonchalant but then sighed, putting your head in your hands. “There was, like, this moment before I fell asleep. I was so annoyed with him, and then I looked at him, and he just looked so peaceful. It was so weird.”

Little did you know, Reese was having the same conversation with Malcolm.

***

Things didn’t really change between you and Reese. They were a bit weirder, not that either of you said anything about it. You two were nicer to each other, but not too much.

Cynthia had decided that in order to make new friends, she had to throw a party. Knowing how hard it was to make friends with peers that you weren’t really peers with, you and your dad encouraged the idea. She was so excited. She made hundreds of invites, giving them to kids around school and leaving some at the library.

“Hey, I heard you’re having a party tomorrow.” Reese suddenly brought up on your walk to your siblings’ school. 

“Cynthia is.” You clarified.

“Do you have any say on the guest list?”

“Trying to get invited, Wilkerson?” You asked. You were slightly confused about why he would want to come to a party at your house.

“I was just curious, God. Always asking questions.” He responded. He rolled his eyes but kept a slight smile on his lips. “You know, Malcolm’s been trying to talk your sister out of throwing her little party.”

“What?” You stopped walking. “Why?” Reese just shrugged. You shook your head, continuing your pace. “I swear, if she says that she doesn’t wanna have this party anymore, I’ll be pissed. It’s all she’s been talking about.”

“If you want, I can beat some sense into him so he can shut up about the party.”

“No thanks, Reese.” You let out a small laugh. Of course, he would resort to violence, even when it came to his brother.

“Thought I’d offer.”

***

Luckily, Cynthia didn’t let Malcolm’s persistence affect her. The party was in full swing, full of people from middle and high school. Your sister seemed to be having a really good time, mingling with all the different groups.

There was a knock on the door. It was a miracle you could hear it over all the music and talking. You opened the door to see Malcolm and Reese. You glared down at the younger Wilkerson.

“What are you doing here, Malcolm?” He recoiled a bit at your reaction. He was used to seeing this kind of behavior towards Reese; he didn’t like it being towards him.

“Is Cynthia here?”

“She lives here.” You deadpanned. You refused to believe he actually had an IQ of 165. “Are you here to apologize?”

“Yeah.”

You opened the door a bit more to let him into the house.

“Go find her then.” He immediately followed your instruction, zooming into the house to find your sister. You looked up at Reese, who seemed amused. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re not like that with me anymore.” You rolled your eyes, but your mood was better than when you spoke to Malcolm.

“Don’t push your luck.” You joked.

“Can I come in?” You were somewhat surprised at the politeness. Reese usually didn’t care about invitations. You nodded, shutting the door behind him when he entered the house. “Can I have a tour?” He surprised you again. You expected him to start walking around on his own.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

You led him through the house, being sure to pass by the kitchen for some snacks. You don’t know why, but you decided to show him upstairs as well, the last stop of your little tour being your bedroom.

“I’ve never realized that you’ve never been here before.” You commented from your place on your bed, watching him look around your room. He nodded.

“Me neither.” He sat near you, carefully eating a cracker so crumbs wouldn’t get on your blanket. Another surprise. “Nice posters and stuff.”

“Thanks.” You took a cracker from his plate. He didn’t say anything about it; instead, he just looked at you and placed the plate between you. “You know, you don’t have to stay up here with me. You can go back down to the party if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good.” He ate another piece of food. “You’re cool to hang with.”

You raised your brows. You didn’t expect Reese to become so tolerant of you. You lay down on your bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You muttered, playing with your fingers. After finishing his food, Reese laid down as well. “Are we, like, friends now or something?” Reese was quiet, trying to figure out how to respond. He turned his head to you, and you did the same.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips and back. He was hoping you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The boy was anything but subtle. Taking a leap of faith, Reese moved his head closer to yours.

“I was thinking ‘or something.’” Before he could say anything else, you moved closer, putting your lips against his. To get out of the awkward position you two were in, Reese turned to lay more on his side, cradling the back of your neck. You looked up at him with a nervous smile when you two broke apart. 

“‘Or something’ works.”

[ystrike1]

Danzai no Bishou - By Unazuki Kou (9/10)

"You are only a doll that moves according to my will. Yeild to me."

Here we follow an unwanted princess who slowly realizes that that everyone does want her, in the worst possible way. She was born a bad omen, and in a way the silly superstitious curse over her came true. She is surrounded by obsession, and it seems like her death is inevitable.

Leila is...no one. A princess who was born a twin. Her birth was followed by a bad omen which made her invisible. No one acknowledged her, ever, except her twin sister.

Her twin, Marika, became the real and only princess. Marika is cruel, yet kind. Marika cares for Leila, when no one else will. Leila lives in a private palace, full of sisterly love and bedtime stories. Until...she falls in love with an enslaved prince.

His beauty resembles the gods she reads about in her stories. Marika asks her mad father for a favor. She wants to play with the man Leila has feelings for. She plans to break him totally. Marika convinces her senile father to give Prince Khalifa to her. She makes him her horse, and she carves scars in him to make him uglier. Marika wants to be Leila's God. Khalifa is stealing that from her. Marika imprisons the poor man, who doesn't know why he's being punished.

Leila sneaks out with food and books. They become friends, and Khalifa falls in love with Leila. He doesn't know if she's real or a twin or a ghost, but he wants her warmth.

He professes his love and begs for hers, but Leila believes she is a symbol of bad fortune. She tells her beloved sister Marika about her doomed love, and how she wishes she could love like a regular princess.

Then, Marika's revenge is complete. She tucks Leila into bed, where she cries. Marika knows everything. Leila has never once hid anything from her. Her sole provider and friend.

Marika lies.

She tells Khalifa Leila doesn't exist. She was a farce. An act to break him in his prison.

He vows revenge.

The future is not bright for the twins. Their senile father is a cruel ruler who believes silly superstitions and bad omens. He lets famine rage, and a prince rises from the ash to save the land. He beheads the senile king, and he finally takes his revenge.

Leila. Sweet, stupid Leila pretends to be Marika to save Marika from death. She really adores her sister. The true princess. It is only fitting that the fake, cursed twin should die instead.

He doesn't know.

He thinks she is Marika, so he curses her. He starves her. He says he will let his soldiers use her as a slave when he's done punishing her.

Leila doesn't break.

She protects Marika.

The true princess who ruined her first love out of jealousy.

Marika returns. She has successfully destroyed the new king. Leila was real, and she is so lovely and sunny and beautiful. To love her is to go mad. Marika knows the king will fall if Leila dies. She didn’t want Leila to die, but what an opportunity! With the new king gone the true princess will be free to rise and rule.

A maid named Amina tells Leila the truth. Marika isolated her and turned her into a doll. Marika has always been freakishly obsessed with her. Marika doesn't care if she takes power again. Not really. All that matters is being Leila's God. Marika has orchestrated her entire life, and she is intent on orchestrating her death.

Leila loves Khalifa. All of Marika's plans can't beat love. Khalifa dreamed of freedom with her in the past. She loves to dream of it, even though she still loves Marika. Khalifa tries to save her from the curse he inflicted by accident. He didn’t know it would kill. He tries his best for her, and that wins her heart.

This hasn't ended yet, and who knows what the ending will be. Even if Leila dies Marika and Khalifa will remain obsessed with her. She has always been their God. They were merely playing with the light that controls them. Like moths beside a flame.

[stiffyck]

Stiff stiff stiff stiff hi. Ok. Coming off of anon for this one bc the brainrot is too much ANYWAYS I was sending tcd asks like last week??? Idk ANYWAYS I JUST FINISHED WATCHING SECRET LIFE THE OTHER DAY AND I HAVE SOOOOOO SOOO MANY THOUGHTS. So many thoughts about TCD Scar and Secret life Scar. And also some of the things Martyn was saying about Scar lore-wise. I’m actually gonna put a few quotes from Martyn here about it:

“That [the end of secret life] was probably the beginning of a really horrible sort of descent into madness for Scar”

“Can you just imagine how distraught and how upset Scar is at just whacking that success button over and over and every time: ‘Win Secret Life’ ‘Win Secret Life’ ‘Win Secret Life’ just over and over and over again”

“Wanting it to either end for himself or for a new game to begin, like he is so deep in that loneliness and being left in a wasteland that he would rather either die or go into another death game — he doesn’t want to be alone”

Ok end of quotes here. I am just thinking SOOOO HARD ABOUT THIS OUGSHSH. I’ve been rotating this in my head for like 3 days now. First of all, like the whole secret keepers/watchers CONSTANTLY giving Scar tasks that end up isolating him from the rest of the server in a way (kind of like they know that loneliness hits Scar much harder than the others and they’re doing it on purpose to break him early on in the game), and then Scar building up those big deep slate walls around most of his base to physically keep people out (and even if it doesn’t keep people out physically, it’s still more or less reflects his mental state and how he’s treating everyone around him), and the whole sneaking around everyone and flitting between groups without committing himself because he knows (EVEN THOUGH HE TALKS ABOUT WANTING FRIENDS) that his best bet is to take advantage of having connections without actually getting attached to anyone (kind of like maybe he’s learned somewhere before that isolation is the best route for survival). GOD HES JUST LIVING RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN AAUGGHH. Also Scar just eventually accepting that he’s going to be isolated no matter what, and giving into what the tasks want him to be. BUT ABOVE ALL OF THAT. Him being surprised that he even won in the first place????

“How’d the guy with no friends win?”

And just being legitimately shocked that he actually came out on top and managed to survive everything. It’s like, even though he knew that not having any true connections gave him the best opportunity for survival he was STILL surprised to have made it out alive in the end. And back to what Martyn said about him being stuck there alone, just losing himself to madness because there’s nobody left but himself. it’s just like being back where he started again, utterly alone with no way out and nobody left to help him, and that he would rather be dead or living through another death game than be completely alone again. ok I’m done lol I am so sorry for going on that enormous ramble in your inbox HRJSKF :’)

HELLO YES YES THIS IS EXCELLENT. YES.

This reminds me of an au I made relating to my immortal scar hc where Scar gets stuck in 3rd life and everyone forgets him. Only the winner, Grian, remembers him and he remembers that Scar is supposed to be another hermit-

But this. Right.

Scar is the only one who didn't die at the end. So I can imagine him slowly going mad and maybe he's secretly hoping that maybe... maybe someone will come back for him. Someone will come save him, right?

But why would they. He was the villain after all. Even if not of his own volition- he was still a villain and he deserves this.

But imagine if the others forgot about him. If he just got erased from their memories basically.

Man.

Anyway yea Martyns lore for Scar is insane rigkrkgkfkg I love this sm thank you for that ramble I home my own ramble makes sense. Very random but i should be sleeping anyway

[dreamtydraw]

i gotta know more about your mc and baxter (i am never free from this man somebody help me). do they date in step 3, or just crush on each other? and the angst, pls gimme some angst >:D

oh, and do you have any headcanons about them together? :3

*slap my knee* WELL HONEY you have a BIG storm coming-

I’m a multi-shipper so Cerise has a storyline where they date and one where they were just really good friends and in both cases: Baxter was someone extremely important to Cerise.

Important context to understand: Cerise was nonverbal for almost half of her life. She has an important communication problem that actively ruin her personal life as she struggle to talk to people and so not isolate herself. Regardless of the nature their relathionship take, Baxter is extremly important to her as he's the first person she managed to befriend by herself. He came off strong and she took her chance to try talking with someone else and it ended up feeling easy around him.

They are vastly different and this is one of the main reasons they work together: They get to experience, learn and witness a new way of living life. Cerise gets to build her confidence slowly, they have an agreable moment and the dating is all new and attracting to her. She feels a lot and is in the company of someone who appreciates her and makes her come out of her shell.

You can imagine how such an impactful relationship can turn from the loveliest encounter of your summer to the most emotionally damaging event of your life.

Also worth mentioning is that in my playthrough Baxter closed the door in Cerise's face while she was bawling her eyes out on his porch... Yeah it didn't went well....

The reason why this breakup impacted Cerise so much is how some little details spiral in an endless train of negative thoughts: "If I was worth it, he would have tried" and "I am not even capable to move on from something so insignificant for him" "I feel stupid for having felt confident" "I should have known that I was not made to be around people, I can't even talk to someone properly" "I'm too much"

Cerise's self-confidence got shattered, having walked right back of all the effort she managed to make and her mutism coming back into her daily life. It only took one conversation to ruin an entire process of self grow.

The reunion was a painful one and here is where I call my phase the: Baxter pain and regret.

Just imagine for a second, you are so miserable because of your own choices, you left someone who loved you by convincing yourself they'll move on and 5 years later when you meet them again they are a shell. You hurted them so much that to this days your presence haunted them, the person you loves because of their positivity, their smile and bright kindness are now dull, sad and scared. The regret of it all and the pain of wanting to ask why, to wanting to help but also desperetly not wanting to furter implicate yourself while they still look at you with hope. How much would it hurt you to be given a chance even after all you destroyed ? After all the joy you denied for both of you and with all the regrets of have spent so much time in your selfish perception of the world. It would sting and that something that can never dissapear, even if she's back, even if you try again, even if you make progress, you simply can't make up for what you caused and it hunt you at night. You always been loved, you always loved them, and like a fool you reciprocate those feelings by doing the opposite of what love is suppose to be.

NOW THAT ANGST HAVE PASSED- Here is some cute dating headcanon I have of these two :D

Oh and one last sad stuff :

Cerise cut and dyed her hair because Baxter used to say he liked her long orange hair and the compliment felt so bittersweet that she couldn't stand seeing herself in the mirror...

ANYWHOOZIE

-Cerise likes jewelry and likes to make colorful jewelry so she wanted to make bracelets for Baxter. One colorful green to keep as a souvenir and one black and white.

-Still on jewelry, they traded. In exchange for a bracelet, he gave her some rings of his (that she kept wearing for the 5 years )

-They kissed in the car watching the firework because Cerise doesn't like loud noises

-Cerise doesn’t like sudden louse noise but had fun listening to Baxter’s music during some car rides.

-Because she can’t drive she asked him to pick her up or give her a ride to some stores just to have some time with him.

-They met at the cypres during the "soirée" moment and this fun fact always makes them laugh, life sure like them together.

-Fear of the ocean vs Fear of height, both are here to help the other fight against their fear with a little help

-Cerise gave Baxter a glass shot as a souvenir and he only once drank in it alone but was too scared to break it so he kept it hidden.

-I have this hc that once they get married ( because yes they will ) Baxter has a picture of her somewhere in his office and if someone asks "Are you married ?" he just pull up the pic of his very colorfull and and cheerful wife so people look at him confuse

you married a rainbow ?!

-Everyone had their moment of "don't ever hurt her again" with Baxter but the worst one was Liz who profaned murder hunt if he did.

-Still, Baxter got accepted nicely back into the family.

-Cerise's services as a photographer got added to Baxter's wedding contact of people he can recommend and they at least worked on some weddings together.

-Neither of them are morning people, but they spend a lot of their nights hanging out and simply talking until late.

-Some dinner nights they take a detour to dance a bit on the side near the beach

-Travel around the world travel around the world! Cerise has some nice vacation places she wants to do with Baxter and they sometimes need some calm time.

-They just love each other, 5 years are nothing compared to the rest they spent together

THANKS YOU FOR READING THIS FAR

[midnxght-sweet-time]

Beta Riddle fic??????? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Im on my knees pls tell us more 👉👈

Yes Im working on a Beta Riddle fic-

I swear I have scour the whole entirety of social media and have only found TWO fics of Beta Riddle and about five fanarts at best. IM DESPERATELY CRAVING FOR SOME BETA RIDDLE EVEN IF HIS NOT CANON- I WANT HIM AS LIKE A SIDE CHARAC OR SMTHG T^T

On that note, i have decided the best way is to just feed myself. Dont get me wrong I love the strawberry ant boi we have now but like-

The concept of Riddle? Being spoiled and bratty???

Can no one see how unhinge he couldve been? How even more satisfying it will be to defeat him when he OB?

Sadly my fic wont include any OB (unless I think of an idea to shove it in) but I'll give a brief— I always wondered how we would have to sympathize with Riddle even if he is a spoiled brat. Cuz keep in mind the whole goal of Twst is to litterally tame all these rowdy hormonial teens with i s s u e s.

Beta Riddle out of all them— if we replace him with canon Riddle into the canon universe, seems like the most well off dorm leader compare to the rest. Until when you realize, sometimes even the most brattiest person, the one who has been given alot since childhood can be neglected.

Aksjaksjaksk ALLOW ME TO BRAINROT RANT— I see Beta Riddle as touch starved- (as he should be lmao cuz twst is a 'non otome game' right ?) He was given everything as a child. He had a choice to not study, he got all the most expensive luxuries, all the toys, got a tart for his birthday, etc etc. What every child dream off- hell I wont be surprise beta Riddle's mom lets him eat ice cream before dinner.

But the one thing Riddle has never been given all throughout his life, was genuine care.

Cheesy ik- but heres what I hced/imagined:

Ever since young, beta Riddle is just as isolated as canon Riddle. Only the reason his so isolated is because his homeschooled by a hired teacher. His mother is always away busy with work so she never had much time for him. She spoils him with toys and gifts he wants to keep him happy but never bothered making time to give him what he needs. I imagined beta Riddle as a child used to be as hardworking at canon Riddle but overtime when he realized his efforts were only glossed over by his mom, he slowly starts to despise studying. Its like Leona's case where, he knows his mom wont even celebrate with him no matter how many A's he filled up his exams.

Might as well stop trying and seek attention elsewhere which is why when he came to NRC, the first time he ever get a chance to be in a crowd or what was considered public. He probs took the role as dorm leader of Heartslabyul because the old leader was a sticker for rules which is why it was so easy to grab that position when you can just cheat. Besides.. it doesnt seem the dorm members care much for these rules. Just break them all and call it a day.

Yes he has a chance to be with Trey and Chen'ya but they feel more like servants to him then friends. Especially Trey. But what can they do? They cant tell if Riddle cares for them enough to listen to them. And besides, Chen'ya probably gets a kick in making Riddle mad and flustered while Trey is just the 'I dont get paid enough for this shit—' babysitter. We already know Trey didnt bother stepping up to Riddle and smack some sense into him til he OB, tf is my baker boi gonna do with this bratty boi? Just let the man bake his tarts and be a malewife. All that problem solving goes to the one darling Riddle falls for and is desperately seeking their attention even if it were an act of defiance or looks of disgust >;3

This fic will take me a couple of weeks or more to complete cuz I only have the planning on board but how I will execute this writing will be slightly difficult.

[silent-sanctum]

And I'm Here - Jotaro x Reader

Word count: 1.5k+

When the universe ends and time stands still for a moment, what happens then?

cw: Stone Ocean ending spoilers

The blinding light was the first guest to greet him when he woke.

The gentle lull of the waves, accompanied by the comforting cool of the ocean surrounding his ankles, was the next.

He wasn’t sure if it was from whiplash from the void of the dark to the tranquil scene of the light, but a couple seconds was needed for his mind to come back and for the last moments of his life to flash before his eyes.

The chaos of accelerated time. His team in a flustered mess around him. The priest responsible for all of this. The world of his stopped time. The knives directed at his daughter. His scream of terror. His desperation.

His death.

It was too sudden for his body to register the pain, though he felt it resonate in his soul. His failure to keep fighting the second it happened. A phantom whisper of his wounds continued to linger- the cut on his throat and the vertical scar that ran down the right of his face.

Reminders of his shortcomings of how he should have done something better. A few seconds more and he could have ended it then.

But-

He clenched his fist, his head hung low in shame and his teeth gritted in anger. You should’ve been better. So much for proving yourself.

What now? What should he do while the world continued crumble? Where would he even go from here?

Past the shade of his visor, nothing but the vastness and of the ocean awaited him here. No signs of his daughter nor her friends in sight. A punishment deserving of his neglect and wrong decisions. Figured. I don’t deserve to find my closure when I chose this for myself.

Just like that, his hands fell slack and welcomed the numbness growing from within.

Absent-minded with no purpose, he kept his head low and walked. And walked… And walked. He greeted the isolation and the quiet swoosh of the water like an old friend taunting at him for his mistakes.

He didn’t know how far he went but with one more step forward, he heard it.

“Love?”

His breath hitched, his body paralyzed in complete shock, but deep down in him, his chest caved in on itself. His hands turned to fists and he quivered. That voice. That sweet voice. There was no chance of it being- it couldn’t…

The water waded and the voice drew near. “Love please look at me.” Oh god. Please not like this. It was. He could recognize that voice from anywhere. And he couldn’t bear to look. Not after everything he’d done.

And just then, someone stood behind him. A comforting aura with an air of warmth that he didn’t deserve to feel. He wanted to run. Run like he did when he was much younger. To flee and spare the trouble. But when it came to this.. he couldn’t. So he stood there, unmoving.

“I know everything hurts…,” a shaky exhale. “Everything’s falling apart but I need you to face me so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

Fractures continued to crack in his solitary heart, every syllable of those words desperate and filled with familiarity. He didn’t want to- but… he never won when it came to moments like this.

He turned ever so slowly, his head still hung low with the brim of his hat aiding in his cover and his body rigid with uncertainty.

He didn’t say anything. Nor did the person. And he waited. For a yell, a slap to the face, words of blame, anything.

He didn’t know what hurt more. The anger that never came but should have, or the complete gentleness of a smaller pair of hands grasping his, thumb circling the warmth of his skin as a meek gesture of comfort.

What did he do to deserve this?

“Does it still hurt?” A hand came to cup his cheek and he flinched. Please leave. But it didn’t. He felt its soft palm caress his face, and with no more will to fight back, gently tilted his head to look.

And there you were.

In all the beauty that made you who you were. One that captivated the likes of him beyond his comprehension. His heart throbbed at the sight of your tearful eyes, the slight tint to your cheeks, and the quiver of your lips. He looked away, unable to hold your gaze.

Never in his life has been this hard in suppressing back his emotions, not when his source of happiness stood before a broken man who failed his family and the universe. He could feel them swelling in his eyes as your fingers traced his scar with featherlight ease.

I can’t- “What are you doing?” He jerked his head away from your touch, doing his best to keep his voice stable as one last attempt in putting up a brave façade. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you should?” Your voice was even despite the subtle wobble in your speech with not a trace of malice in it.  “I wouldn’t know where else to go other than here. With you.”

Why? “Why is the world so cruel?” He mumbled under his breath, one that you caught just as you always did then. “Why does it allow me to have this only to rip it away from me at the last second?”

You didn’t say anything. He hated being vulnerable like this but when nothing else exists for him to divert himself into, what else was there to do? He turned his head away, sparing you the sight of him starting to break.

“I shouldn’t- Why… Why am I feeling like this…”

“Because you’ve loved.” He glanced at you, breath stilling at the gentleness of your voice. “You loved and cared for everyone you held dear and did what you could to show that. And you’re hurt because it feels like the world doesn’t return that to you.”

“Am I right?”  

As much as he wanted to deny, he knew it was true. Without realizing, his lips tightened trying to stop them from trembling but he couldn’t prevent the single tear that shed from his scarred eye. His breaths started to shake but still… he tried to keep himself together.

Your hand returned to cup his cheek, once again nudging him to look at you. You’ve gazed at him with shining eyes and an understanding smile, your cheeks stained with fresh tears. “You’re hurting because you blame yourself for not being enough for them. For us.”

His breath hitched as he took one second to return your gaze, only to shut them before any more tears start to drop. You were always perceptive. Always knew him deep down despite the many walls he put up to hide it.

He couldn’t say anything but overlap his hands on yours that rested on his cheek, nuzzling your palm as a silent response, allowing another tear to fall.

You stood on your toes and gently directed him to lean down for you to press a soft kiss on his lips. At your touch, he trembled and reciprocated. As if it’s second nature, his hands came to hold your waist, keeping you close to him as if you’d disappear once he lets go.

With hesitancy you pulled back, leaning your forehead against his. For a brief moment, you both stood in silence, relishing in each other’s presence, allowing all his unspoken grief and regrets out through his uneven breaths.

Through your own tears, you let out a watery giggle as you thumbed the tears away from his eyes. “I know it’s hard to believe after what you’ve been through, but do know that there were people who were grateful for your existence. Our friends who went with us in our journeys, your family who never stopped caring for you, your daughter who looked up to you and waited for you all her life…”

You stifled a sob of your own. “Your wife who continued to love her husband unconditionally even after death.”

Right then and there, the walls that held firm for years shattered and he broke into tears.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face on your shoulders, his body shaking from the force of his strangled sobs. You huffed and encircled your arms around him. “You’ve done more than enough love.”

You held him for as long as he needed. In the dawn of a new life, he whispered a quiet confession. “I… I want to go home.”

“And we will,” you said in return, caressing his cheeks. “All you have to do is close your eyes and when you wake, we’ll be there waiting for you.”

He shook his head. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.” You hushed him with another kiss, keeping your forehead against his. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You both fell to your knees as the universe began to crumble, ready to start anew. And you whispered one last sentence…

“You’ve done well love. You may rest now.”